The Princess Trials (The Princess Trials #1)(51)

A large hand grabs my shoulder and shakes me awake.

It’s dark, and Berta looks refreshed with a smear of chocolate around her thin lips. Every muscle in my body aches, and I feel like I’ve lost even more water just by lying in the shade and breathing.

“What?” I groan.

Her pale eyes sparkle. “I’ve found the Mirage!”

“What?”

“Come on.” She hoists me up by the arm.

My head hits the low wall, and a groan slips from my lips. I glance around the empty shelter. “Where’s—”

“Pixel is safe.”

I’m half asleep, half-desiccated, and my surroundings spin, but somewhere underneath the tiredness and confusion is a suspicion that Berta abandoned us while I was sleeping but has changed her mind. I don’t have the strength to dwell on it because she’s dragging me out of the shelter into the night.

A steel-blue haze makes up the cloudless sky, and a burst of amber light glows from a distant hill, turning its surroundings mauve. I want to say it’s the sun on the horizon, but it spouts like an explosion of lava. The air is significantly cooler, and I don’t feel like the effort of walking would dry me into a husk.

I trail behind Berta, who marches down the slope, at the bottom of which is another hill.

“What’s going on?” I croak.

“One of the other Guardian girls must have abandoned her solar bike,” she says. “By the time I found it, the sun charged it to thirty percent, which was enough to get me to the Mirage.”

“What’s out there?” I ask.

“It’s a barracks with water, a shower, and comfortable beds.” She glances at me over her shoulder and flashes a grin.

That’s when I notice that she’s no longer covered in grime and wears a jumpsuit that fits. It’s also khaki with larger side pockets than the one she complained about in the morning.

“Is that where you spent the night?” I ask.

She stops dead and casts me a venomous glare. “You’re an ungrateful little twit.”

My dry throat convulses. “What—”

Berta points a thick finger between my eyes. “I could have sat on those comfortable seats and finished all those yummy supplies, but I returned for you.”

Something she says doesn’t sit right with me, but I push that aside for now. Gemini’s out there in the dark, and I won’t be able to survive much longer without Berta’s help. “Thank you.”

“That’s more like it.” She marches ahead and pulls something from the side-pocket of her jumpsuit.

The crack of a plastic seal breaking suggests that it’s a drink, and I pick up my pace.

“Is that water?”

She takes several long drags before holding out a bottle a third-full. “Want some?”

“Please.” I take the bottle and take several small sips. It’s lukewarm, but each tiny mouthful seeps into the dry membranes of my mouth, slides down my parched throat, and fills me with a vitality I thought was lost forever. I hum my appreciation at the refreshing drink.

Berta frowns with the kind of glare that suggests I’m selfish, but she drained the last of my water earlier and thanked me with a hard shove. I leave her a mouthful and offer up the bottle, but she shakes her head and pulls another out from another side pocket.

I slip the rest of the water into my own pocket in case Berta hasn’t thought to give any to Gemini.

The walk down the slope feels longer than the mad scramble up when the cassowary had been running toward us. Maybe that’s because the hill had risen so gently over the long walk that I hadn’t even noticed it, not even in my fatigued state. My foot slips over loose rocks, but I right myself before falling onto my behind. Berta snorts at my inelegance.

Our surroundings become brighter with light glowing from behind the distant hills, but there’s no sign of the sun.

“Where are we going?” I ask.

She points further down the slope. “The solar bike is down there. I would have come sooner, but it took all night to charge the battery.”

I’m so grateful for the water sloshing in my pocket that all I can do is nod.

As we walk down the slope, hot droplets fall from the sky. One slides down my face and onto my lips, and I catch it with my tongue. Its sour taste makes me spit.

“Acid rain.” Berta sprints ahead.

I jog behind her with my head down and my mouth clamped shut. Everyone has heard of acid rain. Before the disasters struck, it was only mildly acidic and didn’t kill people right away. In Modern History, they taught us about concentrated sulfur dioxide raining from the sky, but I never knew that such a thing would be possible today in Phangloria.

The drops quicken into a torrent, and it feels like raining season in Rugosa, except no one is dancing with their arms spread and their heads tilted to the sky. Puddles form in the depressions of rock and splash drops of acid onto my boots. Nothing is sizzling yet, but my skin itches.

By the time I reach the solar bike, Berta stands in a hooded cape with an unprotected Gemini on her back. I stagger forward, not believing her selfishness, and rage escapes me in a scream.

Berta stares at me as though I’ve lost my mind, and I shake my head. I should direct my anger at those who put us in this situation and be grateful Berta left the shelter to rescue us.