Talisman

Dennison studied the talisman with clear satisfaction. That was an expression King Abicotta had not seen before on the man. After a few moments, Dennison snapped his fist closed around the smooth stone and nodded once.

“You are to be commended.”

Abicotta raised an eyebrow. “Oh? Is that so?” This man always had been presumptuous. Who was he to commend a king?

Dennison smiled ever so slightly. “Well, almost. You did let the girl escape.”

Abicotta waved a dismissive hand. “We don’t need her. You have the power to do what you want now, and she is no longer needed as a bargaining chip.”

“I would have enjoyed disposing of her myself,” Dennison replied airily, flicking a piece of lint of the front of his green vest.

“You still can,” Abicotta replied. “She likely ran home to her mother.”

“True.”

Abicotta held his hand out. Dennison didn’t hesitate before handing the talisman back. He did obey orders. He wasn’t really impertinent, just oblivious of the customs surrounding social hierarchy.

“You have the expedition ready to depart?” Dennison asked.

“Indeed. Are you still planning to go with them?”

Dennison nodded once. That was good. The man was an asset, but an annoying one. If he didn’t know so many things that he shouldn’t, Abicotta wouldn’t have been able to handle keeping him around. As it was he had to stop himself from clawing his own eyes out half of the time. Or just ordering Dennison’s immediate execution.

“I will likely not be returning,” Dennison said, meeting Abicotta’s eyes. “After taking back what is mine, I will have no more need of you.”

Abicotta felt a flash of irritation. That was quickly replaced with amusement. If anything, Abicotta had been using Dennison, exploiting his knowledge in order to gain an edge over the Manicoti Will Masters.

“Good,” Abicotta said pleasantly. “Our bargain is fulfilled. Go your way.” With a small, ironic smile, he added, “And fortune be with you.”

***

Narissa watched her son, sitting with his back to a brick wall, eyes closed and head back. His expression was one of muted pain, and he breathed shallowly. His weak body was not responding well to imprisonment. Or perhaps it was his mind. He often refused to open his eyes and she sometimes heard him whimper when someone approached to bring them meals.

At least they had been allowed to share a cell, so he wasn’t forced to suffer alone. Narissa sat beside him and placed a hand on his leg. He flinched, but otherwise gave no response.

“You know,” Narissa said, trying to think of something, anything, that could draw Joree out. “This isn’t the first time I’ve been imprisoned.”

Joree’s breath caught just slightly, but he didn’t say anything.

“No indeed.” She chuckled, closing her own eyes, remembering. “I used to live far away, on the eastern border of Manicot. There were no cities around, just endless fields and farms. It’s changing now, but…well, that’s irrelevant.

“My parents had only three children. I was the oldest. My two younger brothers were born ten years after me. My parents had this long held assumption that I would care for their land when I was grown. It seems they were convinced they were ready to keel over at any moment, despite the fact that both were perfectly healthy.

“Anyways, I wasn’t interested. I didn’t mind farming, but there was nobody my age within three hours of walking, and I was…lonely.”

Joree’s breathing had grown very quiet. His posture had shifted slightly, becoming less despondent. So she continued.

“I visited the city on a rare trip with my father to buy a new machine that was supposed to help with planting crops. The city was so full of people and life and color. You wouldn’t be impressed. It is nothing compared to Ranteel. But to me, it was a wonder.

“While there, I saw the most beautiful necklace I had ever laid eyes upon. It was laying out on a table. No one was claiming it.” She laughed, shaking her head. “I figured no one wanted it. I had no idea that the street vendor had merely ducked behind his little counter to grab something. Imagine his surprise when he popped up and saw me walking away with his necklace around my neck.”

She stopped, remembering. She had been so startled when he had begun yelling at her, demanding that she give back his property. “It took about ten seconds for three separate guards to surround me. They took back the necklace, manacled my wrists, and escorted me to jail. They didn’t seem to care as I blubbered about not knowing that the necklace had belonged to that man and promising I was sorry.

“My father had to retrieve me the next morning, explaining my ‘stupid ignorance’ to the great amusement of the guards. I think he was more embarrassed than I. I was mostly just confused.”

She let her voice trail off, thinking of the next two days, getting lost in the memory.

“Is there more?”

She snapped back to the present, turning to look at Joree. He wasn’t facing her, but he had opened his eyes and was staring at his feet.

She hesitated. There was more. But she wasn’t sure if she could make herself say it.

“How did you end up here?” Joree asked softly. “In Ranteel, I mean. I assume you didn’t end up taking over the farm?”

Narissa bit her lip. “No,” she said slowly. “I…ran away. Found my way here. I’ve never gone back.” All true things. Just missing some vital details.

“And what about…” Joree’s voice caught, and he dropped his head. His hair had grown long enough that it obscured his eyes when he did that. “What about…me?”

Narissa furrowed her brow, confused. Obviously, Joree was here because she was here. But…that wasn’t what he meant. Slowly, understanding dawned. He didn’t want to say it, but he was asking about his father.

Her stomach clenched. She could tell a believable lie. It would be both easier and more palatable. And then she would just have to live with the guilt.

“You were…unexpected,” she finally said. “I didn’t know your father well. I met him before coming to Ranteel and left him before you were born.” She felt her heart twist at the half-truth.

“What are the Delani?”

The question caught her off guard.

“The…Delani?” she repeated. He nodded.

“You knew about them before, when the Kriton attacked. What are they? And how do you know about them?”

She closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She was in dangerous waters. “I…don’t. Not really. I had merely heard rumors that they existed. Sackrin explained some things to me, though. They have no Will power, but can draw energy from fire and wind and such in order to create physical bursts. And we are supposedly at war with them.”

Joree didn’t respond for a painfully long time. “Why did one of them kidnap me and take me to Kritose?” he finally said, almost too softly for her too hear.

Narissa tried to keep her voice neutral. “They aren’t human, Joree. We can’t assume to guess at their motivations.”

“Why are you lying to me?”

She flinched as though he had slapped her in the face. “What?” she asked, trying to sound indignant. It came out almost as a squeak.

He finally turned to face her. His expression was dark and shadowed, and his green eyes seemed a deeper shade than usual.

“I spend weeks being tortured. No, not just tortured. Experimented on. I was pushed to the brink of death more times than I can count. And in the end, I somehow managed to make a man spontaneously combust. I don’t know why you are keeping secrets, but it needs to end. I need to know what is going on. I need to understand.” His gazed was somehow both desperate and hard.

After a moment of silence, Narissa felt her shoulders slump. “Your right,” she whispered. “I’m sorry.”

***

Aniah took a deliberate bite of her succulent steak. Then another. She continued to eat with poise and confidence and a small bit of indifference.

So what if Joree was in prison? He was dangerous.

She took a sip of sparkling cider.

He probably would have gotten himself into prison eventually anyway on some other crime, like attacking the Highness.

She ate a small red vegetable.

Besides, his mother had clearly been conspiring with the enemy, if Furl and Arellia were correct.

She ate an enormous bite of steak.

Ultimately, this ordeal had earned her the trust of her mother. And she was eating at the Highness’s own table. So it was all worth it.

She took a bite of bread.

And started repeating her excuses again in her head.

***

Joree snapped to attention at the sound of horns blaring. His mom scrambled to her feet, cutting off the intro to her explanation.

“What’s happening?” Joree asked, trying to stand but unable to do so without his cane.

His mom looked grim. “We are under attack again.”

Joree sighed. “Yes, I’d figured that out. It was more of a rhetorical question directed at the universe.”

She gave him a wry smile. “Let me know if the universe answers. I think it has some explaining to do, all things considered.”

He grunted, lifting a hand towards her. Gently, she helped him to stand.

They waited for several tense moments, listening to the sounds of hurried footsteps outside as guards responded to the alarm. Distantly, Joree could hear shouting, although he couldn’t make out specific words.

A terrifying thought struck Joree. Would the prisoners here be left to die? Abandoned by the guards and unknown to the invaders?

You’re jumping to conclusions, he told himself. It was far more likely that, with Arellia back, Ranteel would swat away any attack with ease.

Still, he stood stiffly, anxiety building in his chest, as he leaned against his mom for support. The horn kept blaring.

***

Aniah leapt to her feet at the same moment as Arellia and Furl at the sound of the alarm. Arellia immediately strode for the door, Furl on her heels. Aniah hesitated only a moment before scrambling after them.

“Go to your room,” Furl said sternly.

“But I can help,” Aniah said stubbornly. She couldn’t afford to hide. Not when her mother was watching.

“Let her help.” Arellia’s voice was curt. “It is her life to bargain with.”

How very sentimental her mother could be.

They had barely walked thirty seconds when they ran into the first body. Furl cursed, stepped up beside the Highness and drawing his sword, eyes darting about. As if anyone could hide in the narrow corridor.

“They’re already in the palace,” Furl hissed. “How?”

“I’m more concerned with where,” Arellia said, not sounding concerned about anything at all.

Aniah felt her palms grow sweaty, her pulse quickening. An enemy was nearby, killing people. But she was safe with her mother, right?

A shout came from somewhere ahead and to the right, but it was cut off quickly. Furl and Arellia immediately dashed that direction. Of course. Aniah followed, almost wishing she had simply gone to her room.

They turned down another hallway to find a soldier in a Manicoti uniform slumped against the wall.

He had a singed hole in his chest, straight through his breastplate.

Aniah’s scream caught in her throat as she caught sight of someone else a little bit further down the hallway. Her chest constricted and the air suddenly felt unbreathable.

It couldn’t be…

The figure turned and ran.

Confused, Aniah watched him retreat and turn down another corner. The adults followed without hesitation. Aniah was frozen for a few moments before she mustered the wits to follow them. They were already halfway down the hall.

She fell further behind them, barely seeing where they turned by the time they reached the third intersection. Fortunately, as she burst around that turn, gasping and wheezing, she saw that Furl and Arellia had stopped. Cautious, she backed up so that only half her face showed around the corner.

Three figures stood facing the Highness and her Fiedon. Two were Delani, one was human. He looked vaguely familiar.

The man in Abicotta’s counsel chamber, Aniah realized. What was he doing here? For that matter, what were any of them doing here?

The human sneered at Arellia, although the others simply stood impassively. “It is so good to finally meet you,” the man said. He sounded eager, in a malicious, hungry sort of way.

“You are a fool if you brought only three people to attack the Highness,” Furl snarled, weapon held out threateningly.

The man smiled humorlessly. “I probably only needed one. But it’s good to be safe.”

A few moments of silence passed, neither side moving. Why wasn’t Arellia striking? Those creatures should already be down, writhing in agony or dead from a mind strike.

“What is this?” Furl whispered, his voice harsh and tinged with fear.

Oh no, Aniah thought, remembering her own experience back in Kritose, when her Will had failed her.

Then, the man flinched. He stumbled back a step. His Delani companions both dropped to their knees. Aniah relaxed.

Until she saw Arellia’s shoulders sag. Furl reached over and put a supportive arm around her waist, trying to pull her away.

One of the Delani stood, and Aniah got a good look at the creature. Yes, it was him. Vris.

He shot out a burst of flame from his hand. Aniah felt the air grow colder, all the heat sucked towards the Delani. Furl managed to deflect the stream of fire with his blade, barely.

The human lunged forward with a growl, grabbing Arellia’s arm. He clamped something onto it, a strange manacle with a deep purple stone embedded into it.

Arellia let out a gasp and fell to her knees. Vris fired another blast of energy at Furl, knocking the man to the ground with a sickening crack while the second Delani stepped forward quickly with mundane looking manacles and began binding the Fiedon’s wrists.

The Kriton man looked very satisfied. “Now, Highness, you are going to answer some question for me.”

Aniah ducked back into the other hallway before they could notice her, feeling stunned. What was happening? How had her mother been bested? And what was that strange manacle he had put on her?

She needed help. But those creatures hadn’t been affected by Will power. At least, not as much as they should have been. A Mind Scythe would be forced to face them only with the strength of steel. Besides, the Mind Scythe were likely occupied with other enemies. Otherwise a contingent of them would certainly have been sent to protect the Highness.

She gritted her teeth, making up her mind.

I’m a Flaming idiot.