FriendorFoe by Frances Pauli Read Free Book Online Page B

Spaulding's path. Simon had to try. Her voice held too much sorrow. He couldn't believe her capable of anything truly evil. "Agnes, listen."
    She turned to him just as his hand reached out, turned wide, tear-rimmed eyes that sparkled in the light slanting through tunnel. Simon's chest squeezed at the expression on her face. He brushed his fingers along her arm and leaned in closer.
    "No." Her hand found his chest first and pushed. "We don't have time, Simon. I'm sorry. We need to finish this thing." She paused.
    He heard her swallow.
    "For your father."
    "You have no intention of winning this race, Agnes. You never did."
    "Simon."
    "Tell me, Agnes."
    "Do you know what your father told me ?" She turned away and stared out into the ravine. "Do you?"
    "No."
    "He told me the only power worth having is--"
    "The power to control your own actions," he finished for her. "It was one of his favorite sayings."
    "Exactly."
    "I don't get it."
    "Simon, look at me. Your father saved my life. He taught me more about how to live in a few days than, than anyone had ever tried." When she looked back in his direction, the tears won the battle, spilling down across her cheeks. "He was a great man, Simon."
    He nodded and thought about kissing her again. She already inched her way further along the passage, however, and he settled on following, grinning, in her wake.
    "So." They'd reached the opening. He could see the nets leading back up to the course. The drone of the search and rescue copter hummed overhead. "What's the plan?"
    "All right, Simon. This will work out better if you're in the loop."
    He nodded. She'd convinced Spaulding to let her take his place. She'd convinced The Spartan to leave them alone in the cave. Whatever Agnes had cooked up, she'd accomplished a mighty task to see it play out her way.
    "We have one more obstacle before the homestretch, a series of sand pits and springboards that should be easy enough."
    Simon nodded. It sounded like a nice workout. "Right."
    "Then, on the homestretch, I sprain my ankle and go down." She squinted at him and pointed a finger toward his chest. "You keep running, no last minute chivalry. By the time I limp across the finish line, you'll have won and Spaulding will have a hard time blaming me. Unlike him, I can fake an injury."
    Brilliant and ironic. Their children would be geniuses. "Good. Good plan. And then what?"
    She lost him in a flash when she answered, "Then Spaulding and I leave town forever."

    The Sacrifice
    Agnes scrambled up the net before Simon could catch her. They didn't have time for debate and she'd seen the argument brewing behind his frown. The accident had brought out the search party and she gauged they had about three minutes to get out of this ravine and back on course before a rescue descended.
    As it was, the bloody helicopter kept buzzing over. She scowled at the flash of orange and hauled her body up along the stone face. The netting twisted in her grasp and she dangled out over the drop for seconds before shifting her body back into a secure position. She glanced down and found Simon at her heels. Twelve more feet before she could haul out onto solid ground and he caught hold of her ankle.
    "Agnes!"
    "Let go of me, Simon." She turned her foot to the side and tried to dislodge his grip without sending him tumbling back to the mats.
    He grunted and held fast. "We--need--ouch--to discuss this."
    "No discussion." Agnes risked a fall and jerked her foot away. "It's already done." She snagged a handful of netting and pulled away. She moved quickly, grabbed each successive cross strand and worked her feet non-stop until she made the top and rolled out of the ravine and onto the sand again.
    She lay there for a moment and let her chest swell and fall until the rhythm settled. When Simon's arm snaked into view, clamping onto a square of net and pulling his head and torso into sight, she rolled away and stood. She stomped the feeling back into her legs and looked away down