Book One of the Travelers by D.J. MacHale

The day was bright and crisp—perfect weather for wippen.
    Gars ran out onto the field as klees barked orders at them to herd them into their opening positions.
    Is it hard for them to get back out to play after last week’s death ? she wondered. Then the game master sent the ball into play, and Kasha brought her full attention to the field.
    The ball moved fast, Jorsa was right. The Red Team played hard, and no matter where Kasha rode, at least one Red Team klee and several gars were right there with her.
    Boon got hold of the ball, and Kasha could see he was using the technique she’d employed last week. He kept throwing the ball to gars, even when they were behind the lines or off to the side. But the Red Team wasn’t surprised by this tactic—instead they kept their gars near the goals, knowing that at some point a klee would try to score. They successfully blockedthree attempts by the Blue Team to get the ball into the goal.
    We have to try something else , Kasha thought. But what ?
    Stick to the simple approach, she decided. Get the ball and get it into the goal.
    â€œOpen!” she cried, as once again Boon had the ball. He hurled it to her. A Red Team klee galloped straight at her, trying to intercept, but Kasha was too quick. She scooped the ball into her net.
    A Red Team gar leaped up and tried to knock her scoop. She held it out of his reach and kicked her zenzen into a fast trot. The gar stumbled and fell.
    Kasha’s heart froze. Did her zenzen trample the downed gar?
    She turned to check, and in that moment, another gar grabbed for the ball. She whipped around and snatched it back, scratching his hand with her claws. He let out a yelp of pain and released the ball.
    Focus ! she admonished herself. The gars aren’t your concern. Winning the game is all that you should be thinking about.
    A Red Team klee bore down on her, and she tossed the ball to a gar. She had to get her mind back in the game.
    To regain her concentration she rode her zenzen around the perimeter of the field. She needed to feel at one with her mount, and in synch with the team. As she trotted along the outskirts of the field, the Red Team made another score. The Blue Team was behind.
    Okay, she was ready. She hunkered down into the saddle and charged straight at the Red Team klee whohad possession of the ball. The klee threw it to a gar, who raced away.
    â€œGet it!” Kasha snarled at one of her gars. “And get it to me!”
    The gar dashed after the ball, darting in and out among the snorting zenzens. Again, Kasha felt a chill as she watched the gar’s progress through the crowded field. She squirmed as the gar she’d sent after the ball was knocked aside by a Red Team player, the klee’s scoop hitting the gar hard. The gar fell, and was sent off the field.
    As another gar came to take his place, Kasha’s eyes swept over the gar holding pen.
    They look so small , she thought. And afraid.
    The klees might call the wippen gars “players,” but this was no game to them. They weren’t having fun. They weren’t overjoyed by victory, excited to be competing, disappointed with defeat, and eager to prove themselves the next time. They hated this game. They just didn’t have a choice.
    Her father was right. Foraging was an activity vital to the survival of all—gars and klees alike. Klees and gars equally faced danger every time they went out to the fields for the good of Leeandra.
    But wippen was a game, a sport—an entertainment for those who watched and an exhilarating competition for those who participated. Those klees who participated , Kasha corrected herself. It was unfair to expect gars to feel the same way.
    Someone threw Kasha the ball and she fumbled, dropping it. One of the Blue Team gars retrieved it for her,but it was too late. A Red Team player easily snatched it away from her. And made another goal.
    The Blue Team was behind.
    The horn blew—it was