The Princess Trap by Kirsten Boie

constantly surprised at how Lorok knew exactly where he had to turn off along the narrow paths, at how he coaxed the old vehicle and its protesting engine to get them up one slope, and then let it roll gently down another. Sometimes she had the feeling that he was even talking to it, as if it were alive.
    At one point, where the tops of the trees thinned out and the undergrowth was particularly dense, Lorok let the truck coast into the bushes. Brambles scratched the dented hood, which had long since lost its polish after years of dusty roads and nights parked out in the rain.
    “We’ll have to go the rest of the way on foot,” Lorok said. “It’s too dangerous to drive from here on in.”
    Hunched over, they hurried through the undergrowth, never once stepping onto a path. After just a few minutes, they could suddenly hear the roar of engines — loud and steady, as if from a highway, and the farther they went, the closer it came. “The north–south beltway,” said Lorok.
    He has all the road maps in his head , thought Nahira admiringly. Amazing. I need directions just to find my way to the dentist!
    “Now — can you hear it?”
    Nahira stopped. She could now hear the engines of powerful tractor-trailers, and somewhere nearby they were pulling to a stop, with one final roar before the brakes screeched and the hydraulics wheezed to a standstill.
    “What is it?” she asked.
    Lorok put a finger to his lips and beckoned her to come closer. “The old concrete factory!” he whispered.
    She peered through the bushes. Though it was difficult to make out from this distance, she could now see the hangars, each at least fifty feet high, with plenty of room between them for the trucks to maneuver. The factory dated back many years, to when quarters were being constructed on the outskirts of Holmburg to house the northerners arriving in increasing numbers to South Island in order to do the jobs that southerners found too dirty, too strenuous, or too low-paying. It was here that the slabs had been made for prefabricated housing projects that could be assembled like children’s building blocks. But when the influx of northerners had first been cut and then stopped altogether, the factory had been closed, and now it lay derelict, with weeds sprouting everywhere.
    “So that’s what they’ve been doing,” whispered Nahira. “Stockpiling the goods of Scandia here!” One massive truck after another passed through the open gate only to disappear between the hangars. “Why did no one realize it before?”
    “Maybe because no one was supposed to,” Lorok said bitterly. He turned to leave. “Because no one wanted to. Imagine how many more abandoned warehouses just like this, all across the country, are being piled high with Scandia’s goods as we speak? I think it’s time you updated your friends in the government.”
    Nahira nodded. “But not from here,” she whispered.
    On the drive back they did not speak. If Liron learned about this, it could change everything.

    Jenna hurried across the lawn, farther and farther away from the party and from the summerhouse. Malena and Perry deserved to be left in peace. Nobody would disturb them there.
    How could her mood change so completely in just a few seconds? Utter despair a moment ago, and now such happiness! Malena and Perry — their names sounded like music. Malena and Perry, not Malena and Jonas! How stupid she’d been! Malena’s not in love with Jonas at all, she thought. Malena loves someone else, so I don’t have to keep trying to get over Jonas! Malena and Perry! And Jonas and …
    She stopped by a bench overgrown with jasmine. The scent was sweet and heavy. The world was a beautiful place after all.
    Then a note of caution sounded in her head. She sat down. She needed to think.
    Malena being in love with Perry didn’t mean that Jonas wasn’t in love with Malena, she realized. The smell of the jasmine suddenly seemed cloying. Don’t jump to conclusions , she