CHAPTER ONE
JEREMY
“Good afternoon, folks, this is your captain speaking,” a man says over the plane intercom. “We will be landing in Dublin in fifteen minutes. Weather on the ground is cloudy with a chance of light showers, and it is 13 degrees Celsius or about 55 degrees Fahrenheit. On behalf of the crew, thank you for flying with us and have a wonderful day.”
I lean into the aisle to watch the flight attendants collect people’s used cups and napkins, but my mom yanks me back. “Be careful, Jeremy! I don’t want you getting clipped by a cart.”
“I’m okay. They’re still twenty rows away.” I take in her wide, panicked eyes and the sheen of sweat covering her dark brown skin. “Are you okay, Mom?”
She closes her eyes. “I will be once we land.”
“It’ll be sooner than you think,” Dad reassures her. His face is pressed against the tiny window and all I can see is the back of his head with the cloud of tight black curls we share. “Wow, it’s so lush and green down there. Want to take a look, Jer?”
“Yeah!” I say eagerly, and he leans back in his seat so I can see past him and Mom. As the plane tilts sideways, I spot buildings and houses scattered across an emerald-green land striped with roadways. “Whoa, Mom, you gotta see this! It’s not scary, I promise.”
“I’ll take your word for it.” Mom hugs our dark gray pit bull mix, who is sitting calmly on her lap. “Chickpea and I will keep our eyes shut until the plane lands, won’t we, girl?” But our dog’s soft hazel eyes are glued to the window, fascinated, and Dad and I grin at each other.
“I think Chickpea’s excited for Ireland, too,” I say, rubbing my dog’s floppy Yoda ears, and she turns to lick my face. “You know what? I’m glad you guys are all here.”
Mom squeezes my knee. “We’re glad, too, honey.”
“Are you kidding?” Dad exclaims. “We wouldn’t miss your big TV debut for anything. I’m just sorry it’s taken so long for us to go on a family vacation.”
“It’s cool. You guys have been busy lately,” I say.
The truth is, my parents are always busy. Dad is the chief of surgery at our local hospital and Mom works at a cancer research clinic. Most of the time, I’m home alone with Ruth, our housekeeper, which is why we adopted Chickpea at the local shelter. I knew she was going to be my best friend the second I saw her goofy puppy face and white-dipped paws that look like they’re wearing socks. I don’t mind hanging out with her and Ruth, but getting to go to Ireland with my parents? And for the awesome reason of being on a TV show? You just can’t beat that.
A flight attendant passes by, beaming at Chickpea. “What a well-behaved dog you have there,” he says, and she wags her tail politely. “She’s been so quiet the whole trip.”
Mom smiles. “Chickpea’s my security blanket. I’m not great with planes.”
“You’re not alone, ma’am. You should ask your doctor about nausea wristbands.”
“She is a doctor,” I call after him, as he continues down the aisle.
My best friend, Sadie Chu, who’s sitting across from us with her mom, shushes me. “Jer! Don’t use the D-word with them around,” she says, pointing to her grandparents in front of her. She’s mostly kidding, because her grandpa is watching a movie with his headphones on and her grandma is napping. Grandpa and Grandma Tran, as I call them, really want Sadie and her brother, Clip, to go to medical school someday. They hint about it all the time, even though Sadie’s only going to be in the sixth grade this fall, like me, and Clip is starting the seventh grade. According to Sadie, they’ve wanted to have a doctor in the family ever since they left Vietnam fifty years ago … but it hasn’t happened yet.
“Sorry!” I say, grinning. I close my tray table and slide my graphic novel into my lap. The cover shows three warriors battling an orc. It’s one of two copies I own of War of Gods and Men: The Saga. I always buy two of every book so I can keep one in mint condition and read or lend out the other one. The book I’m holding is obviously the read-and-lend copy. On this plane trip alone, it’s been passed between rows 28, 29, and 30 at least a dozen times.
“Thanks for letting me borrow that, by the way. I reread the section about the mages, and so did Iggy.” Sadie leans over and pokes Iggy Morales, a big seventh-grade kid with dark hair and glasses who plays soccer with Clip. Both boys are in the row in front of me with Iggy’s dad. “Hey, Iggy, did you memorize the names of all the mage kingdoms?”
Iggy nods. “Oh yeah. I studied hard!”
Clip raises himself up in his seat to look back at us. He’s the total opposite of his sister. Sadie is short, skinny, and a bookworm like me, while Clip is tall, athletic, and a front-runner for captain of Saybrook Middle School’s boys’ soccer team—and he won’t let you forget it. “But you already know all about the mages,” he tells Iggy. “You’re a Level 115 Silver Mage.”
“That’s only in the game,” Iggy points out. “We’re about to actually live the game.”
Two dark blond heads pop up in the row in front of them. Caroline and Derek Marshall are twins and going into the seventh grade with Iggy and Clip, and they borrowed my book before our plane even took off from Boston. Caroline’s mouth moves, but I can’t hear her.
“She says she knows more about the War of the Orc Kings now than the US Civil War,” Clip says. “And Derek studied the warlocks’ poems in case they show up in a puzzle.”
Usually, I’m the only one who really gets excited about this stuff. Give me a wizard, a dragon, and an epic quest, and I’m on board. But seeing how equally hyped my friends are about the show makes me happy. “Just think, guys: The child hero of Pantaera could be on the plane right now,” I say, and Clip passes my words on to the twins. Sadie leans over and gives me a jellyfish, our special fist bump where we wiggle our fingers like tentacles as we pull away.
Mom and Dad are staring at me in amusement.
“I know you’ve been explaining to me and Dad for months,” my mom says. “But I’m still amazed by everything you just said. Orcs? Warlocks? Child hero?”
“I know, Mom, it’s a lot to take in.” I get ready to launch into another rundown of the story. Or as Sadie likes to call it, another one of my lectures.
But Dad jumps in before I can get going. “Hold on, let me see if I get this right. So, War of Gods and Men is that online video game you kids play, and now they’ve turned it into a TV show. The game takes place in a fantasy world called Pantaera, and orcs and warlocks are some of the magical beings that live there.”
“Show-off,” Mom jokes.
“Hold on, I got more!” Dad pushes his glasses up his broad nose. “Evil forces are trying to take over Pantaera, and according to a prophecy, three human heroes will save the day: an adult, a teenager, and a child, to represent the three stages of a hero’s journey. How’d I do?”
“You get an A-plus, Dad!” I tell him proudly. “The show’s gonna have three seasons: one for adult contestants, one for teens, and one for kids my age. Each winner will be named one of the Pantaereon, which is a trio of legendary heroes. That’s what we’re going to try out for.” I point to myself, the Chu siblings, the Marshall twins, and Iggy. “We won spots on the show—”
“Thanks to your epic laser tag victory,” Mom finishes. “I know that part, at least!”
Two months ago, at the beginning of summer vacation, the Blackwood Gaming Arena opened up in our town with an intense virtual-reality version of laser tag. My friends and I beat the entire game, and the owners of the arena happened to have connections to the War of Gods and Men franchise, so the grand prize was a spot on the TV show. Since the six of us won the laser tag tournament together, we all got spots.
“So there’ll be actors and a set, but it’s a competition where you kids climb and run and do obstacle courses?” Mom asks, elbowing Dad. “Sounds like those Nickelodeon game shows we watched back in the dark ages, like Legends of the Hidden Temple.”
Dad winces. “It wasn’t that long ago, hon, but yes. Climbing and obstacle courses sound pretty physical, though, Jer Bear. Think you’ll be up for all of that?”
Mom elbows him again. “Nathan!”
“I know you’ll be great, of course,” my dad adds quickly, smiling at me. “You’re good at everything you do. I just meant that you hate gym class, is all.”
“Well, this won’t be like gym class. It’ll be fun, and I bet—” Mom breaks off when the plane makes a sudden dip, and goes back to hugging Chickpea with her eyes squeezed shut.
Within minutes, the wheels hit the tarmac and we’re speeding toward our airport gate. The second the plane comes to a complete stop and the seat belt sign turns off, everyone is on their feet, stretching, yawning, and grabbing stuff from the overhead bins.
I stay in my seat, looking down at my book.
It’s true, what Dad said: I do hate gym. I’ve never been the kind of kid who liked going outside and throwing a ball around. Every time we have to run a mile in PE, I end up walking most of it, and I always get picked last for teams because I fall on my face a lot. Once, when we were doing a gymnastics unit, I got stuck on the uneven bars and my teacher had to help me down. I’m just not good at physical stuff. I’d rather curl up with Chickpea and play War of Gods and Men. In the game, I’m fast and strong and run around saving the world. But in real life? Not so much. I already know this show is gonna be way harder for me than it is for my friends.
The feeling only gets stronger when Derek pops up from his seat and announces, “Me and Caroline have been rock climbing nonstop, so we can scale any goblin castles they have.”
“That’s why I paid for that gym membership add-on? So you two could practice scaling castles?” jokes Mr. Marshall, the twins’ dad.
“At least that was at the gym,” Mrs. Chu tells him. “Every night, we’ve had to listen to Sadie run up and down the stairs and Clip pounding the floor in his room as he does barfees.”
“They’re called burpees, Mom!” Clip groans.
Mr. Morales snorts and ruffles Iggy’s hair. “You guys think you’ve got it bad? My whole household has become a health food zone since this one decided he’s no longer eating trans fats or red meat. You know how hard it is to give up empanadillas and pasteles?”
I’m almost drooling at the memory of dinner at Iggy’s house, when his parents cooked us some amazing Puerto Rican food, but Iggy claps his hands over his ears. “Dad, please, you’re not supposed to mention those until the show’s done,” he says. “Then we can eat whatever.”
“Yes, the kids have been working hard,” Grandpa Tran chimes in, looking at Sadie and Clip. “If only Clip worked as hard at school, though. So many Bs on his report card.”
Sadie looks delighted, since school is the one thing her brother can’t beat her at. But before she can come up with any snappy remarks, Clip says loudly, “Okay, from now on, no talking about school allowed. It’s August, we’ve got less than two weeks of summer vacation left, and we’re about to get famous on a TV show. We need to focus.”
When the plane door finally opens, everyone shuffles out with their bags. Mom leads the way with Chickpea on her leash, chatting with Mrs. Chu. I notice she and Dad were awfully quiet when the other parents were talking about their kids’ workout routines—probably because my version of intense exercise is playing Wii Tennis in the basement.
Sadie glances at me, sensing my worry. “The show’s gotta have brainy challenges, too, Jer, and you’re better at puzzles and riddles than any of us.”
I perk up. “Yeah, I do like those!”
It’s Saturday afternoon and Dublin Airport is packed. After what seems like forever, we get through customs, collect our stuff at baggage claim, and head downstairs to catch our bus.
“Three more hours on a coach bus, after we just spent five hours on a plane,” Derek grumbles, as we ride the escalator down. “Why can’t the producers just film right here in Dublin? Why do we have to drive across the entire country of Ireland?”
Caroline gives her brother a withering look. “Because we need to get to the countryside out west, where it’ll feel more like being in an epic fantasy. Right, Jer?”
“Right!” I agree. “There are cliffs and forests where we’re going. Clarebriar Castle, where the show’s being filmed, is five hundred years old and has lots of cool history.”
Sadie claps. “I can’t believe we get to stay there! And I’m glad we have a long bus ride. That’s three more hours to study up and figure out what we might need to know for the show.”
“Good point,” Derek concedes.
On the ground floor, we head through a set of automatic doors to a parking lot full of buses. Dad and Mr. Marshall open a folder full of information from the TV producers, searching for the name of our ride, but I’ve already spotted it. “Look!” I say, pointing to the long silver bus. A woman is standing in front of it, holding a big sign that says “To the Land of Pantaera.”
Derek and Caroline cheer, Iggy and Clip high-five each other, Sadie squeals and hugs me, and all of the grown-ups laugh.
“We’re going,” I say, grinning so hard my face hurts. “We’re really going to Pantaera.”
CHAPTER TWO
JEREMY
“Hello there!” the lady says. She’s short and pale, with curly red hair, and speaks with a soft Irish accent. “You must all be with me, since you aren’t asking me where on earth Pantaera is, like everyone else passing by. Of course, I have to tell them Pantaera is not on Earth at all!”
“I’m sure that clears things up,” Caroline jokes.
“My name is Maureen, and I’ll be driving you to the set. Names, please?” We tell her, and she checks us off on a clipboard. “Great! You’re the last people to arrive. I drove two contestants and their families yesterday, and two others landed in Dublin an hour ago. They’re on the bus, waiting.” Maureen catches sight of our dog, and her voice goes up about three octaves. “Is this Chickpea?! You are listed here as a very special passenger, you adorable thing!”
Chickpea surges forward at the sound of her name, whacking us all with her happy tail.
Maureen pets my dog’s head, then directs us to a big storage compartment near the bus wheel. “Everyone, store your things in here and pick out your seats, and then I’ll do a very brief introduction,” she says. “You will be having lunch with the producers at the hotel when we arrive, and they’ll have all the information you need. Sound good?”
“Sounds good,” everyone choruses.
Mom hands me Chickpea’s leash and a poop bag. “Jer, honey, can you take her to go potty while Dad and I handle the bags?”
Text copyright © 2023 by Julie C. Dao
Illustrations copyright © 2023 by Chi Ngo.