Page 12

C HAPTER 12

The plane hits the ocean with a life-altering crash.

For the space of a heartbeat, there is only shouting, fire, and water.

I frantically scrabble at my seat belt, my hands fumbling against metal. It won’t unlatch. I’m stuck. I forget everything I know about anything and tug vainly on the strap until Theo reaches across my lap and unlatches the seat belt with a flick of his wrist.

The frigid water is up to our shins. The side of the plane is on fire. Where the wing used to be, there’s nothing.

“ Theo, now! ” Winston snaps from behind us. “This could explode at any moment.” He throws an arm around Theo’s torso, but Theo jerks free from his guard’s grasp.

“I’m with her,” he growls. And then to me, “Do not let go of my hand.”

My teeth chatter violently as I nod.

Theo pulls me to my feet and drags me toward what used to be the back of the plane. It’s torn open, and everyone is gone. My stomach pitches violently, thinking of Brooke and Naomi getting sucked out of the cabin. There are jagged shards of twisted metal everywhere, and water is rushing in. It’s up to my chest now.

“Brooke—” I scream.

“This is the buddy system,” Theo yells. “Trust me.” He yanks the rip cord on my life preserver, then his, and pulls me close to his side as we fight against the current streaming into the wreckage. The water is at my chin. “Deep breath!” he says.

I tip my head back, and in the last seconds before the water closes over my mouth, I fill my lungs with air. Theo places his feet against the plane and shoves hard, propelling us out of the cabin and into the water. He swims toward sunlight, but something heavy pulls at me, dragging me away from him. I kick frantically, only to be tugged back. A strap is wrapped around my ankle and pulling me down like an anchor. I try to untangle myself with my free hand but can’t, not with Theo tugging me in the opposite direction.

The water pushes and pulls, disorienting me. All I know is Theo’s hand in mine and his words.

Do not let go. Trust me.

If I hold his hand for another second, we’ll both drown.

I wrench my hand from Theo’s and reach down to feel for the strap around my ankle. It’s my backpack, and it’s tangled in a chunk of metal. A literal anchor. My lungs burn as I’m dragged toward the seafloor. I finally shake free and kick up, almost sure that I won’t make it. My lungs don’t have anything left in them. It feels like swimming through cement, but I keep kicking, rejecting the instinct to inhale a mouthful of seawater.

It’s over, my brain lies to me. I kick harder, my fingers clawing at nothing, until I finally break the surface and gulp for air.

I push my hair out of my eyes, trying to get my bearings, when a churning piece of metal drags against my arm. The pain is instant and blinding. I bite my lip and grab the wound; it grows slippery with blood under my fingers. I’m dizzy. I float onto my back and hope I don’t black out.

“Wren!” Brooke’s voice cuts through the din. She’s alive. I snap into focus and swim through the metal, luggage, and burning debris littering the water.

When I reach the rest of the group, I see that Winston is half submerged on a floating piece of wreckage. His leg is lying at an unnatural angle that makes me sick to my stomach. Brooke, Naomi, Henry, Victoria, Comet, and the pilot are floating around the injured bodyguard.

I turn back to the direction I came from, searching for Theo. How did I get here first? “Theo!” I yell. It’s hard to see anything with all the debris. “Theo!”

“Wren,” Naomi says softly. She shakes her head, and I must have lost too much oxygen underwater, because I don’t understand what’s going on.

“What?” I ask. No one will make eye contact. An abandoned life vest crosses my vision, floating away from the wreckage, and my brain struggles to keep up with what the rest of me already knows.

White-hot dread seeps into my veins.

“Where is he?” I snap.

“Looking for you,” Victoria says flatly.

“Why isn’t he wearing his life jacket?”

“He took it off to dive for you,” Naomi says quietly.

Victoria narrows her eyes. “If he dies, it’s your fault.”

“Oh, shut up!” Brooke says.

But Victoria’s right, I realize numbly; I abandoned the buddy system, and he put himself at risk just to save me.

There’s noise behind me, and Theo breaks the surface of the water with a huge gasp. I’m too weak with relief to speak.

Victoria doesn’t have that problem. “Don’t you dare do that again, you bloody, gormless wanker !”

And she’s not the only one who’s mad.

“Bloody hell, Wren!” Theo pushes hair and water out of his face with an unsteady hand. A range of emotions flits across his brow before settling on fury. “Why’d you let go?”

“There was a backpack… it was an anchor… pulling me…” I trail off as the adrenaline drains from my system. He waits for me to explain myself, but I’m too exhausted from the emotional and physical whiplash of almost dying, not dying, almost dying again, then thinking Theo had died, to do it properly. Especially not when all I can focus on is the water dripping over the bridge of his nose and landing on his lips.

I miss the days when the end of the world had a countdown clock.

“I had to save myself,” I say weakly.

He blinks away the anger until he looks simply shattered. “I thought I lost you,” he says.

“And I thought I was being promoted,” Henry jokes.

“Sorry to disappoint you and the rest of the world.” Theo rolls his eyes.

“You literally can’t die, because I will burn Buckingham to the ground if Henry becomes king. We all know he wants it too much, and that’s bad for business,” Victoria says to Theo.

“I do not!” Henry protests. Even I can tell he’s lying.

The currents have pushed Theo and me farther from the group, and we doggy-paddle back to the others while Henry and Victoria squabble. I lift my arms out of the water and rest my cheek on a floating piece of junk.

Theo scowls at me. Whatever affection he felt for me during the crash has eroded in the salt water.

“Why are you looking at me like that?” I ask.

“You’re bleeding.” He lifts my arm to inspect my injury. The silk blouse provided by the royal stylist has torn from shoulder to elbow, and I have a long, jagged gash running the length of my upper arm.

Naomi gasps. “Are you okay?”

“It looks worse than it is. It’s already numb,” I tell her.

“That’s because you’re in shock,” the pilot says. “Same with Winston and his broken leg.” He claps the bodyguard on the shoulder. Winston whimpers. “Once the shock wears off, the pain will set in.” He leans closer to my wound and pinches the edges together with his fingers. “We’ll figure that out when we get to shore. You’ll be all right until then.”

“If she doesn’t kill us by attracting sharks,” Victoria mutters, just loud enough for everyone to hear. She smiles in a way that makes me think she’d summon a great white if she could.

“I’ll live.” I pull my arm from Theo’s hand. “And if I don’t, it’ll be because we drowned at sea, not because of a scrape.”

“We’re not going to drown,” Theo says.

“Cocky, are we?”

“I’ve got eyes, Wheeler.” He points over my shoulder. “We’ve made it to land.” I follow the line of his finger to a rocky shore in the distance and wilt with happiness.

We’re going to be rescued, and everything will be fine.

“Brilliant!” Henry claps his hands together. “We’ll be home in time for Theo’s coronation.”

“On second thought—” Theo makes a show of swimming toward the horizon.

“We’ll be home in time for dinner if you lot listen to me,” the pilot says. “By my count, every passenger is here. Is that correct?”

Theo nods.

“Good. I’m Reggie, and if you listen to me, we will make it out of this alive, I promise.” Reggie has a strong British accent, short gray hair, and a handlebar mustache. He makes eye contact with each of us individually, and I think I love him. In this life-or-death crisis, I don’t have to plan anything. No one is counting on me to rescue them. I don’t even have to count on myself. The relief is staggering.

Reggie continues. “Winston will need help getting to shore, obviously, and her arm is in bad shape.” He points to me. “Does anyone else have injuries that will prevent them from swimming to land?”

Theo and the others shake their heads.

Reggie barrels on. “The shore is farther than it looks, but the tides are in our favor and we’re not in a rush.”

“ I’m kind of in a rush, mate.” Winston speaks for the first time, his eyes screwed shut against the pain of his broken leg.

“Me too,” Naomi says through chattering teeth. Her lips are turning blue.

He points to Naomi. “You, Victoria, and Henry are responsible for getting Winston to shore. Take turns towing him, don’t let yourself get too tired, and stick together.”

“I’m in charge of Comet,” Victoria says quickly.

“No, I’ll take him,” I correct her.

Theo groans. “Not the time.”

“The dog will go with the first group, but he’s not a priority,” Reggie says.

Indignation burns in my chest. “What did you say?”

“Are you bloody joking?” Victoria has a fire in her eyes; it’s the first likable thing she’s said so far.

Reggie rolls his eyes. “Don’t risk Winston’s life for the sake of a dog. ”

“No one was saying that, mate,” Henry says gently. “Between the three of us, we can manage them both.”

“Then go,” Reggie orders. “The noninjured American and I will gather luggage.”

“If anyone sees my black Prada bag, please save it,” Victoria says over her shoulder. I roll my eyes at the back of her head.

“Why do we need luggage?” Brooke asks.

“In case rescue takes more than a few hours to get here and we need supplies,” Reggie explains.

“I guess that makes me the injured American?” I ask. What a legacy.

“ You just focus on getting to shore. Flip on your back and kick if you get tired. You’re losing blood and you look paler than a polar bear,” Reggie says.

“What about me?” Theo asks.

“Swim to shore.”

Theo exhales in frustration.

“Welcome to the club; I’m too weak and you’re too important,” I say.

“You’re not weak, you’re injured. When you get to shore, find Winston,” Theo says, then turns to Reggie. “I can help. I want to help.”

“Your Majesty.” Reggie nods his head in a quick bow. “Are you willing to take orders from me?”

“Tell me what to do and I’ll do it. Don’t treat me differently than anyone else.”

“Help us with luggage and keep an eye on this one.” He nods in my direction, which is annoying. I’m fine! I don’t need Theo to babysit me! To prove myself, I swim toward a scrap of metal floating about ten yards away and untangle the black purse hanging off it. I wrinkle my nose when I see the Prada logo. Of course it would be Victoria’s bag.

I loop it across my body and start to swim, but the leather strap across my chest and the small drag as I swim make me anxious. I kick and kick and kick, but the purse feels like an anvil; every pull makes it harder to breathe. My head is spinning, and a panicky feeling is mounting in my veins. Tears burn my eyes. I unloop the bag from my chest and hold it in my hand instead.

Without the weight of the bag across my chest, my anxiety ebbs. I flip to my back and gently kick myself to shore, the swell of each wave propelling me forward.

A reusable water bottle floats by my head. To avoid being completely useless, I grab on to it and keep my eyes on the sky until I hear voices.

“How do we climb it?” Victoria asks.

I roll onto my stomach and crane my neck up.

We’ve made it to shore. Unfortunately, this shore is not like the one where Theo and I once said our vows. Instead of soft moonlit Grecian sand, we’ve washed up to a craggy cliffside straight out of Wuthering Heights.

I make eye contact with Victoria.

“No sharks?” she asks in a disappointed voice before flicking her gaze back to the rocks.

I unclench my fist and let her Prada bag sink.

“This route looks like our best bet.” Henry’s finger traces the outline of a rocky set of steps naturally carved into the cliff. “I’ll carry Winston up first.”

We form a line, and by the time I’m climbing the craggy bluff, Theo, Brooke, and Reggie have caught up and are tossing luggage onto a rocky outcropping at the base of the cliff.

My stomach feels violently empty, every limb in my body shaking with exhaustion as I crawl over the ledge onto the spongy green moss. My throat is screaming with thirst. I untwist the metal bottle still clutched in my hand and tip it over my mouth.

One drop hits my tongue. Just enough to make me ten times thirstier than I was before.

I collapse onto the ground and stare up at the gray sky until it goes black around the edges.