The Sapphiri

by R Gene Curtis

  There are a thousand guards, and close to a million people in this city.

  “I don’t feel good about this,” I say. “There are so many people here. Why would they trust me? Why would they want to do anything I say?”

  “We’ll help them along,” Quint says. “Food, water, and sanitary conditions should come first. The curfew needs to be lifted, but not too fast or chaos will ensue. You need to get the society back to functioning as quickly as possible.”

  “That sounds logical, but I’m not sure what experience you have to back it up.” Karl shakes his head. “What are the laws? Who is our legislative body? Who is going to oversee the guard that they actually keep order? None of us are trained at this.”

  “Do you have any better ideas?” Quint turns to face Karl.

  “Of course I don’t,” Karl says. “None of us do. That’s the point.”

  “Then we’ll move forward with it.” Quint turns to me and shakes his head as if to say Karl is an idiot.

  But Karl’s not an idiot. His point is valid. None of us know that this will work. Quint has good instincts, and I trust him, but I don’t think he knows everything.

  “It’s okay to question, Quint,” I say. “We’re all here together, and we need to work as a team so that everything doesn’t turn into chaos.”

  Quint sighs. “You can’t overthrow Wynn’s society overnight and expect anything but chaos.”

  “But you just said…” Karl starts.

  Quint holds up his hand to stop him. “Let me finish. What I know is that when people are fed and know what’s expected of them, they usually do it. Which means that we have to return everything to order and make changes slowly. Tonight, we put out the word that there is an Azurean heir in place. The guard will resume their normal activity tomorrow. Next, we start a propaganda campaign to suggest that change is coming. We move slowly and carefully, always ensuring the people know who is in charge.”

  “You make it all sound so simple,” I say.

  “It is, but it isn’t.”

  Karl scoffs, and we all look at him, standing with his arm draped over Somrusee. He shrugs. “I don’t have any better ideas. It seems like we might as well try Quint’s.”

  I don’t like scaring people into obedience. But, I don’t think anyone will follow me otherwise.

  “Somrusee,” I ask, “can you lead out on deciding what propaganda campaigns we need right away? Talk to people—figure out what people need first.”

  “Yes, Princess Ria.”

  “I want a society that has opportunities for people. Schools for everyone, local elections to choose who makes the laws.” I wish I had paid more attention in political science class. It feels a lot more relevant right now than it did then.

  “I’m not sure what all of that means,” Somrusee admits.

  “Neither do I.” I sigh. I took so many things for granted growing up. How does one establish an ordered society? “Karl?”

  “I want to look after your safety,” he says quietly, misinterpreting my question. “And I want to manage castle affairs. What happened last night won’t happen again. We’ll get a staff hired, and I will ensure the castle is a safe place at all times.”

  “I hardly think that’s necessary.”

  “It is, Princess. There are lots of people who want you dead. I will not trust anyone but myself with your safety.”

  I hate to think about being around Karl all the time. He says he wants to protect me, but was he thinking about protecting me when he kissed me and then ran back to Somrusee? Why would he suddenly act like he cares? It would be better if he would figure out how to build a safe society and leave me alone.

  “That’s a really good idea, Karu,” Quint says. “The princess is the only chance we have, and if Arujan is still out there, he’s surely plotting something to get her killed.”

  Karl smiles a little at Quint’s compliment, but then he looks back at me. “Another thing we need to pursue is the legend about the Sapphiri and the Azureans. If it’s true that we can use hemazury to end tyranny, we should figure out how to do it.”

  “That’s a legend Karl,” I say. “We have a million people to take care of. I hardly think we’ll have time to search for legends about powers.”

  Karl nods. “That’s true, but we don’t know all the forces at work against us or for us right now. The legends of the Blue Princess were correct, and I don’t think we should discount the legends of the Sapphiri and Azureans. If they’ve really hated each other for generations and reconciliation has a power, then it seems worth pursuing.”

  I glare at Karl.

  He shrugs. “But your safety is way more important, so if I don’t find time for it, it’s okay.”

  “I’m not Wynn, Karl. I don’t need to obsess over my safety.”

  “Wynn was an extremist, but that doesn’t mean he wasn’t smart. He did something right to rule for two hundred years.”

  “Eventually we will have to consider the fact that there are other major cities,” Quint interrupts.

  “I think we have plenty on our plate right now,” I say. The last thing I want to do is to start talking with Quint about other cities. My eyes are still locked on Karl’s. Karl’s so full of himself—why does he think I’ll listen to him?

  The others murmur their agreement.

  “Let’s go to work,” I say. Everyone leaves except Karl. And me. I get to find out what it’s like to have Karl follow me around all day.

  * * *

  My first order of business is to figure out where I’m going to sleep. I don’t want to be in Wynn’s tower—especially since the location of the passageway has been compromised. Karl thinks there is probably some way to destroy the passageway, and he’s probably right, but I don’t know how to do it and I don’t know how to read anything that might teach me.

  All I know, it seems, is how to add to my ever-growing to-do list. We need to grow blue flowers, we need to hire staff to cook food. We need to determine the right guards to work in the castle. We need to figure out what the laws of the land will be, how they will be enforced, and who to put in charge of what. The society has had a small ruling class in the past, but they’re selfish and brutal. I don’t want to keep any of them around, so we need to figure out where to find a new one.

  “This is the main resident floor,” Karl says as I walk out of the stairwell. He’s been creepily hovering behind me all afternoon, but now he stops and doesn’t follow me out of the stairwell.

  “What’s up, Karl?” He hasn’t said much of anything all day. But it’s not just me. Earlier today, Somrusee was trying to flirt with him and he didn’t respond to her, either. Karl always responds when someone flirts with him—it’s what he does, whether he cares about her or not.

  “This is where I lived,” he says quietly.

  “Really? In here?” I walk to the first door. It has writing on it, but I still don’t know my letters very well. I can’t tell what it says.

  He shakes his head. “That was where Buen lived. He was my mentor while I lived in the castle. He trained me. I imagine Wynn killed him.”

  The door is heavy, but it opens when I push it. Behind the door is a large, comfortable room. I jump when I realize there is a decaying corpse lying in the center of the room, still covered in a black robe with an orange sash. I hear an intake of breath behind me. Karl staggers forward, passes me, and then falls to his knees halfway across the room. He buries his eyes in his hands and cries out, his yells echoing around the room.

  “That’s him,” he chokes. “Buen. Orange was his color.”

  The corpse has mostly decayed now. The hair has fallen off the head and lies on the floor. The hands are outstretched, and the bones of the fingers are curled. Another two corpses lie close by in the room. Each have broken limbs—probably to make sure they stayed put while Wynn tortured each person in turn.

  Wynn is dead but being here makes me fear him all over again. I’ve decided not to use this room to sleep in. I take Karl’s han
d to help him to his feet. “I’m sorry Karl. I didn’t know this would be here.”

  Karl blinks back tears and wipes his face with his hand. “He needs a proper burial. Buen, and the two za’an. It’s because of him that I’m still alive.”

  “We’ll do it.”

  He doesn’t move.

  “We need to make it a grand thing,” he says. “He sacrificed his life for me, and…” He can’t go on.

  “And because of his sacrifice Wynn is no more,” I finish for him.

  Tears are running down his cheeks, but he shakes his head. “You defeated Wynn.”

  “Not by myself.” I put my arm on his shoulder, and he falls into my arms weeping. At the contact I feel his grief so acutely I almost start crying myself. Instead, I go on my tiptoes and hold him tightly, feeling his strong body as it trembles with his sobs. Karl really does love people. The man who sprinted towards Wynn full tilt only to get thrown off a cliff is the same man who weeps at realizing the death of a man he hasn’t seen in months.

  “I’m sorry,” he says, and I let go.

  “It’s okay, Karl. It’s good to love.”

  Tears drip down his face as he motions down the hall. “The other room was my prison. Where I lived with Somrusee.”

  Somrusee.

  I can’t imagine the feelings Karl’s going through, and I wish I knew what I could do to help him find fulfillment in this life he’s chosen. But, that’s not my job. Somrusee has his heart, and so it’s up to her now.

  “We don’t have to go in there today.”

  He nods. “Thanks for understanding.”

  I shrug.

  Karl starts walking to the stairs, away from the rooms. “I’ve been thinking, and I want to select a team of guards to be with you all the time. We’ll want you to have some ladies in waiting as well. But, I want to be the one who guards you when you sleep.”

  I follow after him, confused. He really wants to protect me.

  “How are we going to pay for all of this?” I ask.

  “Wynn didn’t have a money system. Everything was communal, or forced. More like slavery, I guess.”

  “We’ll have to start a money system.”

  “Yeah.”

  “There’s a lot to do, huh?”

  “Yes. Way too much.”

  * * *

  The next afternoon, Karl can barely contain his emotion as he stands in front of about 500 people we’ve assembled together. The sun’s high, and it’s hot. There isn’t a lot of greenery in the city, but still some plants fight for the sun, poking their way through the castle courtyard.

  This is what Karl wanted, and I admire him for it. Still, the situation is less than ideal. These people are here because the guard forced them to come. Despite the dreams we have of democracy, we’re an authoritarian state. And, I’m the dictator who is following Quint’s advice to force people to do things.

  “You may have never thought you’d be at the funeral for a Man of Wynn.” Karl’s voice is loud and confident, even though he has tears running down his cheeks. This kind side of Karl is what makes it so hard to get him out of my head. I look away and consider a mother holding two small children at the front of the crowd. She seems particularly upset to be here.

  “But I asked you to come anyway,” Karl continues. “And that’s not because this man of Wynn wasn’t an ordinary Man of Wynn. Because he was. He struck fear in your hearts and murdered your fellow countrymen.”

  I glance at Somrusee. She is mouthing the words along with him. She wrote most of the speech, and we’re trusting her gut on this one. I’m still surprised Karl went along with the idea of turning Buen’s funeral into a political move. He accepted it without a word of complaint, though. He said it would be what Buen would have wanted.

  “But one day, Buen decided it was time to be different. He got tired of bowing to Wynn—tired of submitting to his every whim. And on that day, he fought. And he found the place where he could hurt Wynn the most.” Karl’s voice catches and he pauses for several seconds before he can continue. “He rebelled, knowing the choice to rebel would be his last choice. But he was tired, and he was determined.

  “Because of the choice Buen made that day, Wynn, the dictator, is dead. The true queen of Sattah has returned. None of this could have happened if Buen hadn’t chosen and acted. None of this would have happened if he was still bowing to Wynn.

  “And so today I implore us all to follow in Buen’s footsteps. Today is the day for us to act to build up a new society. Our society under Princess Ria will not be one of fear and death, but of freedom. New laws will come. New freedoms will be granted.”

  Karl pauses, and the crowd starts yelling. “Why are the gates still locked?” “Why is there not enough food?” “How can we trust another Azurean?”

  He holds up his hands, and the guards raise their swords. The crowd quiets.

  Out of fear.

  They hear one thing and see another.

  “Change doesn’t come overnight,” Karl shouts, “but it will come. Let’s all be patient. Let’s all work together to ensure this brave man was not murdered in vain. Let’s have the courage to do what is right, even when it means we won’t live another day. Thank you, Buen. You’re an example to all of us, and you’re my friend.”

  Karl’s steps are slow as he retreats to his seat between Somrusee and me. Tears run down his cheeks. I notice that my own cheeks are wet. I touch Karl’s elbow, and I feel peace and resolve. I’m glad.

  The crowd is silent and no one moves. I pick up some dirt and throw my consciousness to the corpse in the open coffin. I find Buen’s body, which I didn’t know I could do with dead people. My consciousness seems to know what to do. I don’t grow a brain or muscles, but I stretch new skin over his face. The people next to the coffin gasp and point, but I keep working.

  When I open my eyes, Karl is smiling. “It looks just like him.” He puts his arm on my shoulder and barely controls his emotions enough to speak. “How did you know?”

  I shrug. “I didn’t.” And then I give into the surge of emotions coming from his touch, and I cry with him.

  11 Arizona

  Brit

  I click the strap under my chin and secure my backpack on the back of my bike. No rain yet. And no tears. So far, I’m holding up.

  I only have a few miles to my apartment, so I should make it inside before the rain arrives, as long as I hurry. But it isn’t the rain making me hurry. I need to get into my room before the flood gates open and I start crying. And the team is leaving in just a little over two hours to head to the airport, so I don’t have much time to compose myself anyway.

  I have to be on time to take the bus to the airport. We’re flying to Arizona for a game tomorrow.

  I was in class when I got the email from Coach. I shouldn’t have opened it, but I did. It had the seat assignments for the plane ride tonight. I’m next to Joana all the way to Phoenix. And all the way back.

  I left class and I’m going home. My entire weekend is ruined. Joana is going to destroy me on the way down to the game. I even tried to summon up the courage to talk to Coach about it. I hit reply and typed “Hi Coach” before deleting the draft.

  We’re going to lose to Arizona and Coach is going to kick me off the team. Without a scholarship, I may have to drop out of school.

  Maybe I can bring some earbuds and pretend to sleep.

  There’s no hope of that working. Joana will never fall for it or anything else I could come up with. I don’t know why she hates me so much. She would purposely lose a game or two to get me off the team. I know she would.

  I maneuver my bike into the left lane and stop a few feet behind a blue sedan. The turn-signal on the car blinks slowly in front of me. I wish my heart was beating that slowly. I take a deep breath and hold for three blinks. My nerves don’t calm. At all. Are there things worse than spending a 4-hour flight next to your mortal enemy? A raindrop hits my right hand, and a few more drops splatter on my helmet. Breath in, hold, t
wo, three, breath out.

  Tires squeal behind me, and a horn blasts. Before I can turn back to see what is going on, something slams into my rear tire. My bike twists from the impact, throwing me forward. The car keeps sliding, rams into my leg, and hits my bike. This second impact throws me off the bike and into the road. My legs scrape against the asphalt for what seems like forever, and then my torso slams into the ground. I throw my hands out as my body keeps rolling—into oncoming traffic. Once again, I hear a squeal of tires and a horn.

  I’m going to die.

  It isn’t until the car is stopped inches from my head that I think to scream. And then I do. I scream as loud as I can, and I don’t stop.

  The car stopped in time. It didn’t hit me. I didn’t die.

  I stop screaming and I push myself onto my elbows. My body collapses with pain, and I fall back onto the pavement. I scream again.

  My bike lies in a crumpled heap in the left turn lane, and the car that hit me is nowhere to be seen.

  I need to get out of the road. I push myself onto my elbows again, and then pull myself up using the car that nearly ran over me. Who hit me? Where are they? What am I supposed to do now? Somehow, I manage to push myself onto my feet. My leg that took the bulk of the impact hurts, a lot. There is blood everywhere. My hands are shaking. Where is the person that hit me?

  An older gentleman steps out of the car that was centimeters from my head seconds ago. Horns sound behind him as he steps into traffic and retrieves the heap of metal that used to be my bike. He sets it on the sidewalk and then helps me stumble onto the sidewalk next to it. He’s blocking a lot of people. The car that hit me isn’t here anymore.

  My shoulders ache, and my leg is throbbing. I can feel the muscles in my entire body shudder and tighten, like they are being wound up with a corkscrew. Who hit me? Where did they go? What am I supposed to do now? I look around, but I can’t see the car anywhere. I think it was blue. It must have been blue.

  “Let me move my car out of the road, and then I’ll help you call the police,” the man says. He goes back to his car and drives off. The guy behind him flips me off as he passes. His car is red. He didn’t hit me.