"What do you mean?" Naomi asked, blindsided by Malcolm's words.
"He owed them money and staged the whole thing in the hopes that my father would pay. Thankfully, it backfired on his ass."
Naomi's heart dropped.
"Quinn wouldn't do that. You're lying just because you hate him."
"You want to know WHY I hate him, Naomi?" Malcolm's face was such a startling shade of red, Naomi didn't answer. She didn't need to as Malcolm picked up with his tirade.
"He ruined my life! Before I was kidnapped, my dad looked at me like I was the whole world. He believed in me. That I could do good in the world. He was even going to let me be an aide."
"An aide?"
"Ever since I was a kid, the work I was most excited to do as a future king was disaster relief. Going to areas of Tyrra that have undergone trauma, truly helping people. Making an actual difference instead of sitting on a stiff throne in stuffy council meetings. My dad agreed and I was all set to go on my first aide trip that summer when...well, after Quinn, it all changed. The way my father looked at me changed."
Naomi didn't want to trust his words but it all made sense. It explained why Malcolm was always surrounded by guards and why his dad never let him fight. As Malcolm finished confessing all this, his eyes grew glassy.
"How can I ever forgive him for that?" he asked her, his tone heartbreaking. Or maybe, it was just the sound of Naomi's own heart crumbling inside her chest.
"Maybe you can forgive him, but I know who Quinn Hunter really is. One day you will too." Malcolm got up to walk away but paused at Naomi's stricken face.
"Just...go, Malcolm," Naomi said bitterly, so he wouldn't wound her further.
He did, heading to his room. Naomi couldn't do the same. She couldn't pretend she hadn't heard all of that. That it hadn't shaken her up and made her second-guess everything. If Malcolm spoke the truth, Quinn truly had ruined his life, destroyed his dreams. Not only that, but Quinn had also lied to Naomi. And worst of all, his kind heart seemed more sinister than she'd originally imagined.
Her mind a cloud of confusion, Naomi went to the one place she'd find comfort and time to think.
Her magnolia tree.
She found Quinn sitting underneath it, absorbed in a book.
"Hey," he said, grinning up at her. She didn't return it.
"What are you doing here?" he asked. He reached out to pull her into a hug but Naomi moved away.
"You lied to me."
"What?"
"About your past. You lied."
Quinn glared down at his feet.
"Been talking to Malcolm, have you?"
"Yes. He helped me see a whole different side of you."
"Look. Whatever he told you is his version or idea of what happened. It doesn't make it true."
"But somewhere between both your stories, between both your versions, lies the truth. And somewhere in that truth...Quinn, did you owe those guys money? Did you use Malcolm to...?" Naomi couldn't bear to finish and say it out loud. Because then he'd have to answer, and she'd know the truth for real.
"I didn't. I'm not..." Quinn fumbled.
This time, when he went to hold onto her, she let him. Wanting to feel his closeness even though it was killing her. It was killing her to know he wasn't the man she thought he was, but he looked at her desperately, begging.
"I made one mistake. One mistake. Does that mean people get to lord it over me for the rest of my life? Does that mean I don't get to change? I've changed, Naomi. I swear."
His words felt so promising, so real. Before she let herself fall for them, she envisioned Malcolm's pained face.
"How can I believe you?" she asked, tearing away, unable to bear the intimacy of his touch any longer.
"How can I know anything you say is true when you lied to me in the first place?"
"Don't you see why?" Quinn waved between them. "I lied because I knew things would change. I knew you'd look at me the way you are right now."
"I have to go." Naomi backed away, her heart breaking.
"Naomi..." He started toward her, but she held up her hand.
"Good luck at the trial tomorrow," she said.
Then she ran back to the safety of her room. Back to where Lark saw her weeping. She crawled onto her roommate's bed, her arms wrapped around herself, and told her everything. Lark didn't give her an infamous I Told You So. It would have been too cruel because the words were already repeating in Naomi's mind.
Over and over again.
* * *
Finally.
Finally, the last trial, the last day of this horrible, dreadful competition was here. The third trial was to be the most difficult one—not to mention the most mysterious. Unlike the previous trials, the teams wouldn't be performing in front of one another. Supposedly the trial was so challenging and secretive, the teams weren't allowed to see what the others' tasks would be. It would take place in Legacy's outdoor stadium with the students able to attend. The teams were forced to wait in the large locker room until their turn came.
Oliver and Olivia were the first two to go on. As they met their fate, Malcolm and Naomi sat on one of the locker room's wooden benches, stonily silent. Soraya and Quinn were also quiet, as Quinn paced the room, and Soraya fiddled with her hair. Since they'd been stuck here, Naomi had refused to look at Quinn. It would hurt too much and—even worse—distract her.
After listening to tortuous minutes of gasps, screams, and a whole slew of other disturbing sounds coming from outside, the noises eventually stilled. A few more excruciating moments, and then cheers burst forth from the audience. Roaring applause. Whatever had happened, Oliver and Olivia had done something right.
It certainly didn't appear that way, however, when they stumbled back into the locker room. They were filthy and soaking wet. Their eyes held a frantic look—as if they'd seen the depths of hell.
"Holy crap, what happened to you?" Soraya rushed forward with towels for the shivering twins. Through chattering teeth, Oliver spoke up.
"One word. Under water. Grimy, dirty water."
That was more than one word, but Naomi didn't correct him. She wanted to hear whatever information she could. Yet Oliver was too wrapped up to be coherent.
"You think with all the pollution going on these days, that they would think better than to sink us into a parasite-filled cesspool," he rambled. "But no. No one cares about the environment, even though today's oceans and water life are being poisoned."
"Oliver—" Malcolm started.
"You know Jade Lake has been pumped full of toxins? There's bacteria-infested seaweed down there. And some type of algae people are too scared to go near. It's got some creepy fluorescent tint going on. In fact—"
"We get it, Oliver. Save an animal, hug a tree. What about the competition?" Malcolm insisted.
"Yeah, fill us in on the whole parasite thing," Naomi added.
Yet, before Oliver could reveal something that actually mattered, Mr. Fortley was knocking on the door.
"Naomi, Prince Malcolm, you're up next."
Full of dread, Naomi slowly walked outside to the stadium, a shaking Malcolm by her side. The green field was empty, although the stands were bustling with hyped-up spectators. Frank and Teddy had set up their mini reflecto-monitors to cover the crowd and the stadium. In the stadium's front row, the judges waited for them.
"Naomi, Malcolm—are you prepared for your final challenge?" Judge Sherwood asked.
His eyes were kind, but his words felt threatening. If there was a dirty cesspool in Naomi's future, no number of benevolent smiles from the elf would cheer her up.
"Um, yes, Judge Sherwood," Malcolm said, his voice quaking slightly.
"Well, this trial is exceptionally special. You two must help each other accomplish tasks against a formidable adversary," Judge Wren said.
"Like what?" Naomi asked, flinching at the idea of more flesh-eating parasites.
"Have either of you heard of The Digger?"
Blanching, she and Malcolm both nodded. The Digger was a mythological being, a reptile-like, onyx creature that supposedly plagued the Underworld. With four legs, six heads, and rows of fangs, it was said to torture those sentenced to unkind fates. The Digger could burrow through any surface and turn others into stone. However, Naomi doubted they could summon such a folkloric creature on such short notice. There had to be another reason for bringing it up.
"Well, The Digger's wrath is known to be placated by only a few things. One of which we've planted within this trial. It's your job to find the one thing that can mollify it."
Then, Judge Kingsley waved her hand. A giant cage rose up from beneath the stadium floor. A perfect imitation of The Digger prowled behind the steel bars. It had to be a simulation but it was quite life-like, snapping its jaws at the sight of them.
"While our little replica here can't do any permanent damage, we hope it'll spur you on to find the item in question," Judge Sherwood said as the air within the stadium shimmered. The illusion within the ring expanded until a thick forest surrounded Naomi and Malcolm. Most likely, the forest would adjust and expand accordingly as they made their way through.
"So, we're going to be chased by that thing until we find this mysterious object?" Naomi asked.
"If it makes you feel any better, we're giving you a head start," Judge Wren poorly tried to assure her.
"You have thirty minutes," Judge Caldwell added more abruptly.
And with that, a loud bell rang, signaling the countdown.
*** So, can they outrun The Digger? And what are your thoughts on Quinn and Naomi's situation?