by Franc Ingram
Lysander cleared his throat. "Umm, I hate to be the one to say it, but Cornelius and his cronies aren't going to let us just sit around here forever, waiting for her to wake up."
"Nor The Court," Leith added.
Lysander nodded. "We were in the middle of a heated discussion when you showed up. I'm surprised they haven't been banging down that door demanding a final answer." Lysander scratched at the stubble growing on his chin, a low groan emanating from the back of his throat. "Not that they care what we think."
"What exactly did I miss?" Lorn asked. He pulled away from his mother to stare at his fellow kings.
"The mess we're in didn't evaporate when you went off after Oleana," Lysander said, frustration clear in his clipped tone and crossed arms over his chest. "We had to deal with the refugees. We came back to angry natives and an angrier Court."
Nadir, in the next bed over, moaned, reminding Lorn of how large a price they'd all paid in Caledonia.
Lysander stood and waved them toward the door. "We finish this outside."
Lorn led his brothers out the door and far enough away that the posted guards wouldn't overhear. He paced in a small circle in front of them. Coming down the mountain in Failsea and trekking through the Wild Zone, Lorn had some time to think about what he would say to his brothers once he got back, then their reunion was so crowded with worry about Oleana and he was just now getting him back to full strength. And his squad was dealing with the loss of Paxis and Silver. Lorn couldn't find the right time to say what he needed to.
Lorn froze in front of his brothers, needing to focus on what he had to say. "Listen, guys, I just wanted to say...," Lorn's throat went dry. When he came back they treated him with such kindness, just happy to see that he was alive. Lorn didn't like revisiting his abandonment of them. He didn't want them to be upset with him. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't have taken off like that. It was stupid, and I almost got killed because of it. I put my desire before the team and I know that's unforgivable, but I need you to know I'm sorry."
It was Lysander and Leith's turn to exchange concerned looks. Lorn waited for one of them to speak, finding it hard to stand still. He wanted to pace, to scratch his scalp, chew his nails, anything to break up the building nervous pressure in his chest. The silence was so thick it felt like soup in his lungs.
"What you did was reckless, and impulsive, and stupid, yet most of me is grateful you did it," Lysander explained. "We shouldn't have tried to convince ourselves, and more importantly you, that she was dead." Lysander gestured between himself and Leith. "We realize that was wrong. Leaving her in Cornelius’ hands was wrong, but you left us." Lysander patted his own chest. "You left us without word or warning. And...,"
"There be consequences." Leith finished. "Lost good people. Lost other's confidence. Showed weakness to enemies."
"We're supposed to be one cohesive unit, no one person above the others. You forgot that when you went after Oleana on your own." Lysander sighed as if it pained him to have to say it. He rubbed at the fuzz that he called hair, atop his head.
Leith laid his hand on Lorn's shoulder, as if he feared the younger man would run away again. "Must prove you be king first, son second," Leith added. "Need some distance from her."
Lorn leaned against the wall behind him. The last thing he wanted to do was spend more than a second away from his mother. Whatever punishment the others dealt out was going to hurt every second. Seeing how much it pained Leith and Lysander to say it meant trouble. It stirred a worry so deep his teeth ached. The three of them had developed a habit of being brutally honest with each other in the hard months at Evermore, Lorn needed that.
"Say it," Lorn urged.
"The Court wants to send a group to Darten. You should be the one to lead the group."
Lorn inhaled sharply. A thousand words of protest lingered on the tip of his tongue but all of them fell short when he remembered how he'd just abandoned people who were fleeing for their lives, to pursue his own selfish desires. His mother was as safe as he could make her. There was no concrete reason why he couldn't go.
"For how long?" he asked.
"As long it takes," Leith explained.
01101111
Oleana woke up screaming. In her dream ice was taking over her body, choking the life out of her. Cold and pain invaded her body like a virulent plague. Death at the end of a sword would have been better. It was brutal, and agonizing, but quick.
"Would you cut out that infernal racket," A familiar voice yelled bringing Oleana forward into the present.
She sat up and scrambled back in her bed, running away from the imagined hand around her throat. Then her eyes adjusted, the fog of the dream cleared, and Oleana guessed where she was. The sea blue walls and the white curtains draping her bed put her in the medical wing of the Crystal Tower. She inhaled slowly to calm the rapid drumbeat of her heart against her chest.
"Are you back among the living?" the voice called again.
With a shaky hand, Oleana slung back the curtain and then the one around the adjoining bed to find Nadir lying flat on his back, chest covered by nothing but a sheet, leaving his dark bronzed arms and shoulders bare except for the smattering of hair sprinkled across his pecks. Oleana could make out the outline of bandages around his middle and the drawn look on his face spoke of the pain he was in.
Oleana avoided asking him what happened, because she couldn't bear to know what horrors they had faced in her absence. Instead, to block out her own pain, she let anger and irritation lead her. "What happened to a thing called bedside manner?" she wheezed, her throat dry and raw.
Nadir didn't bother to turn his head and look her way. "I'm not a doctor. Not my job to be nice."
"When did you become such a bitter old man?"
Nadir sighed. He closed his eyes and his whole body seemed to sink into the bed a little more. "When the woman I loved left me to save the world then got killed because of it."
Oleana was going to yell at him to quit being stupid when two people rushed in. The one she recognized as Fallon, the medic that had patched her up when they were out in the marsh. It was good to see he was alive and well. The other was an older woman, stern, tired looking. She sized Oleana up in a single glance.
"Are you okay?" the woman asked.
The question was a switch that flipped in Oleana's brain and the aches and pains of her body came flooding to the front. She was shivering despite being swaddled in what looked like half a dozen blankets. Her right arm hung limply at her side and it burned as if it alone raged with a fatal fever. Her throat was raw, the lights too bright, and the sounds too loud. None of that mattered when she saw Lorn push his way past the others to kneel at her side.
"Mom, are you okay?"
Oleana tried to wrap her son in a bear hug but only one arm would cooperate, so she squeezed him as tight as she could with what she had. "I was sure I'd never see you again." Her tears fell against his cropped curls. She savored the familiar smell of him, his earthy natural aroma mixed with the soap that still clung to his skin. Lorn was so warm, and solid, and real, Oleana didn't want to let go.
Lorn put up with it for a full minute before Oleana felt him stiffen. "I love you too, Mom, but you can let go now."
For good measure, Oleana laid a few kisses on Lorn's cheek before releasing him. Lorn straightened up with a sigh. He raised his hand as if he were going to wipe his face, but when Oleana's eyes went wide he dropped it.
"Good to have you back with us," Lysander said, giving Oleana's shoulder a pat.
"Thought you be lost for good," Leith added.
Oleana felt whole being surrounded by those she cared about most. Yet the nightmare of her experience with Cornelius lingered just behind her eyelids, like a bitter taste holding on to the tip of her tongue. "You fools shouldn't have risked your lives to get me. The whole point of me giving myself up was to lessen your risk."
"That the fool," Leith said, pointing to Lorn who was quick to look away. "We had no part in it."
"Reckless, stupid, sweet, sweet boy, what am I going to do with you?"
"Sires," the older woman said, pushing her way in between them, "while I understand you all probably have a lot to catch up on, this woman has been through a traumatic experience and it's my job to make sure she is okay. So, if you could step back and let me do that, I would appreciate it." The stern woman's eyes said she wasn't taking no for an answer.
"I'm fine," Oleana said, knowing she was far from it. Her eyes were pulled to her damaged arm, finally noticing the bandages wrapped around it.
She could remember Cornelius' claws digging into her skin as he leveraged her off the ground and flung her into a wall. For her, it was just yesterday when the ice crawled up her neck, filling her mouth and nose until her lungs burned for air. Then the cold darkness of a tomb encased her.
She had no idea how much time she'd lost. Lorn looked older. There was more muscle to him, some shadow of facial hair on his upper lip, a weight in his eyes that said he'd tapped into his past and it haunted him. Leith and Lysander held themselves differently. They both seemed cloaked in this new-found air of authority. With it, came a hard look in their eyes that Oleana knew all too well. It was the look of someone who had to send people they knew and cared about off into danger.
Oleana turned to look at Nadir. He was staring at her. His face was pale and drawn, with a sickly yellow tinge. In his deep gray eyes was a physical pain that he was keeping a tight lid on, but spilling out was the mental anguish written all over his face. Whatever he went through was tearing him apart inside. She hit too close to the truth with her "bitter old man," comment.
Lysander must have sensed his father's pain because he moved to stand next to the other bed, pushing the curtain all the way back as he went. Lysander didn't reach for his father, acted like he was afraid to, but Nadir softened at his son's close proximity.
The stern doctor tilted Oleana's face up toward the ceiling. She stared into Oleana's eyes as if trying to read her mind. Then the doctor checked her pulse, poked and prodded her half-healed stomach wound, and did an all over exam before getting to that arm. The doctor grabbed her hand, but the sensation felt far away, as if Oleana had a thick glove on.
"Can you lift it?"
Oleana tried with everything she had, but all she could manage was a little wiggle in a couple of her fingers. Oleana shook her head. "What's wrong with it?"
"You have several puncture wounds on your arm. By the time you got to me decay had set in around them and started to spread down your arm. I immediately applied a poultice and wrapped it, but that seems to only have slowed the progression," The doctor hesitated. She started chewing on the inside of her lip. A chill spread through Oleana. "The damage to the limb is severe and if the infection spreads your blood will be poisoned. I don't think even your enhanced body can take that." Her brown eyes hardened against whatever she had to say but didn't want to.
"Don't draw it out doc," Nadir said. "Just give it to her, she can take it."
Oleana nodded. "I can take it." Lorn laid his hand on her shoulder as if trying to help brace her.
"To save your life I'm going to have to take your arm."
"No, way," Lorn said. "There has to be another way." He raked his fingers through what was left of his hair, and his mouth hung open as he got lost in thought. Then his eyes lit up. "Maybe we can..."
Oleana took a guess at what he was thinking and shut him down. "No, you will not. I won't let you. If she says the arm's got to go, then it goes."
"Could be worse," Nadir added. "You could be paralyzed from the waist down."
"What!" Oleana turned to look at Nadir, but he was staring up at the ceiling. She understood now why he remained prone in bed with everything going on around him, understood why he had such a clipped tone. "Nadir I'm so ...,"
"Yeah I know. Everybody's sorry. Everyone except the person responsible." Nadir rubbed his face, a slow groan rumbled in his chest. Lysander shuffled on his feet, looking lost.
The doctor cleared her throat bringing Oleana back to her own problems. "Other than the arm, you seem to be surprisingly healthy. Your other wounds are healing well," the doctor bobbed her head in approval. "I want to give you another day to rest up. We can schedule the procedure for this time tomorrow."
Oleana wanted to close her eyes and rewind herself to the point where Lorn first came in. She wanted to hold on to that feeling for as long as she could. She wanted to tell the sad faces around her that Cornelius had taken enough away from her already. He’d taken her time and peace of mind, and he wasn't going to get any more. Oleana wanted to pretend there was some last trick she had to save her from this last indignity. Instead, she forced her best smile and said, "Sure doc, I'll be here."
Before the doctor could say any more Tycho's large form filled the doorway.
"Sorry to interrupt," he froze when his gaze met Oleana. The harrowed look on his face vanished, replaced by that innocent smile that had not been corrupted by time. "Thank The Twelve you're awake." Everyone else stepped out of his way as he rushed to Oleana's bedside. Before she could object, Tycho had her in a crushing hug that lifted her off the bed. The tough leather of his vest scraped against Oleana's chest, but she didn't dare say a word. "That's twice you've left me. This old heart can't take a third."
"Thanks Tycho," Oleana wheezed, struggling to breathe under his tight grip.
Tycho seemed to notice her distress and he let go, lowering her back onto the bed as he would a delicate flower.
"You weren't half that excited to find out I was going to pull through," Nadir said.
"Yeah well, you aren't half as pretty as she."
"Be nice, you two," Oleana cut in, and for a second she was back in Caledon, in Ranger training with her two best friends. Then the burning in her arm reminded her that was a time too long ago to even think about.
"What you come for," Leith said, reminding them of Tycho's turbulent entrance.
"I need the three kings in the Observation Room. There's trouble."
CHAPTER FOURTEEN: PLANNING
Walking into a room full of members of The Court filled Leith with a deep-in-his-bones feeling of dread. His palms got sweaty and a tension headache started drilling away at his temples. He would have rather been facing a dozen yetis than even two of The Court together. The condescending air The Court gave off always made Leith feel tiny and weak in comparison. If it wasn't for the bright lights of Tycho at his back, Paley and Daycia ahead, and his brothers beside him, Leith would have turned around.
Leith didn't have to ask who would be doing the talking for the Heirs this time around. Lysander said enough before The Court to do permanent damage, and Lorn's attention was directed inward so much he wouldn't have been able to form a complete sentence. Leith could say what was needed. As long as he kept panic at bay, all would be right.
"Ivar and his yeti allies are on the move," Jonathan stated before anyone else could speak.
"For where?" Lysander asked.
"To Evermore," Kameke said, stepping forward.
The Crystal Ultra often stayed clear of the affairs of The Court and the Kings. She only worried about that which directly affected her tower or the city around it. Leith found himself intrigued by the mysterious woman that always seemed to be right where she was needed yet never in the way.
"How can you be sure? Maybe he's just moving on Darten as expected." Lysander moved closer to the viewing wall. "Or maybe he's going back to Failsea where he belongs."
Daycia and her friends from Solon had helped them set up long-range viewing devices scattered all over the Wild Zone to give them advanced warning and save on manpower. Lorn said the set up in The Tower was three times as big as the one in Solon. Leith was fascinated by the technology and had spent many a quiet hour staring off into the captured images of the forest. Now that they were relying on it for protection he wished they'd set up more.
The cameras along the southwest border showed a line of Failsea troops and y
etis moving deeper into the Wild Zone. Leith was surprised Ivar was willing to leave his new prize cities so soon. Leith would never say it out loud but maybe The Court was right about needing stronger defenses.
"You stole Oleana out from under Cornelius," Born exclaimed, standing between Lysander and the viewing screens. "What did you think would happen? That kind of attack wasn't going to go unpunished."
Lysander moved away from Born, standing in a hard line with his fellow kings. "If it was Cornelius coming this way, then yes, I would agree with you, but this is Ivar. He's proved that he goes after targets that he chooses. If we assume he's coming here we'll miss an opportunity to get ahead of him at Darten, take an offensive stance."
"We leave, and Evermore will be left vulnerable," Jonathan said. "Then there'll be no safe haven to return to."
"Think us stupid?" Leith asked, his arms folded across his chest, restrained anger pulsed through him. Lorn fidgeted beside him. "This our home. Course we ain't leavin' unprotected."
It was Daycia's turn to speak up. "We'll do everything we can to prepare the city for a siege. We'll get the citizens into shelters."
Leith remembered the way they were greeted on the way back from Caledonia. Alonzo and his crew weren't going to take this new threat well.
"Besides," Lysander added. "The Master of Animals will stay here. In the two days it will take them to get here, he'll be able to control the yetis."
Leith choked. "Huh." He remembered having no such ability, and The Court didn't take things lightly. Once things were said they were taken as fact.
Lysander's eyes went wide, and Leith could read the thought process of his fellow king in his distinctive gray eyes. The yetis were at least half animal. There had to be a way for Leith to excise a measure of control over them.