The Forgotten World

by Robin D. Mahle

  However they were getting in touch with him, it was slow. With each village we stopped in, I began to get an idea of how vast Levelia was.

  According to the locals, we were still several days from the royal residence on foot. It was possible to teleport nearby, but not directly onto the grounds. And even then, it would be a last resort, because only the most trusted guards were given teleportation privileges, and they were short range.

  Most of the population got around by the air train, pods that could hold 4-6 people attached to a beam from the top. The track towered over the city. I wondered if it had been the inspiration for the similar system that crossed the Ever Falls, but this one moved much more quickly and smoothly.

  Sadly, we had no hope of blending in there, so we were making our way slowly toward the palace, awaiting word from their man on the inside.

  Two days later, we finally heard from the general. And not one of us was prepared for what the message said when Nell took the letter from a Court member and read it aloud, shock plain on her strong features.

  “There’s been a complication. The king has Kensington’s daughter.”

  I didn’t hear anything she said after that. All I could hear was that Addie was here. Addie was alive.

  And she was a prisoner again.

  Visions of her small, malnourished form huddled in a cell, barefoot and covered in dirt and blood, swam before my eyes. The blood drained from my face.

  What state would I find her in this time?

  The Analyst

  “You,” BeLa said, dropping the syringe in shock.

  It was the general, the one she was supposed to marry. More surprising than that was the lifeless, bleeding boy in his arms.

  “There isn’t time to explain,” he said. His blue-gray eyes were wide, frantic, and if BeLa wasn’t mistaken, pooling with tears. “He needs help.”

  “I’ll just call—” she began.

  “No!” He all but shouted the word. “No one must know he’s here.”

  BeLa hesitated. She had never truly defied her father. Even the star-throwing, she hadn’t been explicitly forbidden from doing.

  “Please. He will die without help. And we will both die if he’s discovered.” Another pause. Then, in a whisper, “He’s my son.”

  BeLa may not be a warrior, but neither was she the monster that her father was. She had no cause to trust the man who had agreed to marry a seventeen-year-old girl. But, she reasoned, he had no cause to trust her, either. She was the daughter of a sociopath, yet he had come here.

  And the boy would die without help. That much, she was certain of.

  At last, she nodded cautiously.

  “Lay him on the cot.”

  The weathered-looking man obliged. BeLa turned to look at her first real patient. When she glanced back to ask the man a question, he had already disappeared.

  Chapter Eleven

  Adelaide

  “Will he ever wake up?” I directed the question to whoever had an answer, still refusing to take my eyes off Gunther.

  Gunther, who was alive. And Clark doesn’t know.

  My question was met with a stilted silence that made me wonder if Clark was better off not knowing, not hoping. But finally, BeLa’s voice chimed an answer.

  “While I can’t answer that with complete certainty, I estimate at least an eighty-seven percent probability of Gunther awakening with all faculties intact. He might have done so already, were it not for the sedative included in his medication to expedite his healing process.” She indicated a small tube I had overlooked, flowing violet liquid directly into Gunther’s arm.

  I nodded to indicate I understood, then turned to the general.

  “So, you still may have killed him.” Thirteen percent sounded so much higher when it was Gunther’s life at stake.

  “You did this?” BeLa gasped, moving to stand in front of Gunther as though she could shield him from the seasoned warrior. She was brave, I’d give her that.

  “We don’t have time for me to explain everything now. The king will know if you haven’t returned to your rooms soon.”

  I tucked that troubling bit of information away to mull over later.

  “Fine. Don’t explain everything, but explain something. Explain this.” I pointed to Gunther.

  “I tried to keep my sons out of everything with the Court of Yomi. Then they showed up, and I had to improvise fast.”

  “So, you stabbed your youngest son?” I supplied.

  He flinched, something I was sure very few people had ever seen from him.

  “They would have killed you all,” he said quietly, “so I did the only thing I could.”

  “That’s why you brought him here, to me,” BeLa said, quietly putting the pieces together.

  The General nodded.

  “That was quite a chance to take.” She was sitting in the chair across from mine, analyzing everything he said. I agreed. It didn’t make sense to expect her to betray her father for a stranger. And yet, she had.

  “One that was necessary,” he answered.

  So, he had left Gunther here with BeLa when he didn’t even know her. He may be the greatest General the world had ever seen, but the man took some unfathomable risks with someone he claimed to love.

  “I see,” I said, though I wasn’t sure I did. “You’re awfully chatty today, considering I didn’t get two words out of you the entire time you were holding me prisoner in the brig of your ship.”

  BeLa’s horrified gasp satisfied a small, childish part of me. JoJo, who I hadn’t noticed until now, harrumphed a little bark as though to emphasize her feelings.

  “So, tell me,” I went on. “Are you merely letting me think you’re actually here to betray them?”

  He sighed. “Would you believe me if I said no?”

  “No. Honestly, I’m not even sure you know whose side you’re on these days.”

  “Then why did you ask?” His gray eyebrows rose.

  The question and the expression reminded me so much of something Clark would say, it was almost like a physical stab to the gut.

  “Do you know where the others are?” I asked instead of responding.

  “No. But I’m going to find out. Now we should go.”

  I rose to my feet, but hesitated.

  “One last question.” I stood to my full, albeit not very substantial, height, and tilted my head until I could look him directly in the eye. “The explosion. Was it you?” If I even had a prayer of trusting this man, I needed to know if he was behind the disaster that took the lives of thousands, including my mother and sister.

  “The Court of Yomi believes it was.”

  “That’s not an answer.” I scrutinized his face for any signs of dishonesty.

  “You already know the answer.”

  He was right. I did. I had realized for a while now how little sense the entire story made.

  “Then who?”

  If Clark and I were right, and there was a bigger conspiracy at play, there were only two major players on the field here, given that the monarchies themselves had lost power long ago.

  One was the Court of Yomi. The Men of High Purpose had been working with the Court, though, and the Court thought the general had done it. So, they weren’t responsible.

  The other...I could hardly finish the thought, but the general said it for me.

  “Spectrum.” He was putting it nicely, for my sake.

  Because we both knew Spectrum was in charge of the Red Sons. But more than that, they were in charge of...I squeezed my eyes shut, finally voicing aloud the terrible suspicion that had been forming in the back of my mind for longer than I wanted to admit.

  “My father.”

  The next day began in a manner much the same. I was once again summoned, dressed in a semi-sheer, flowing outfit, this time in a pale lavender. The high-necked tunic came nearly to my knees, split at the sides for movement, and the pants were wide and grazing the floor, nearly covering my golden sandals entirely.


  When I was brought to the king, it was to a more private room than before, and the only other occupant besides the two of us was the general.

  I resisted the urge to turn around, knowing the guard would stop me before I got halfway down the hall. Besides, I reminded myself, the king wanted me alive. And the general was an enigma, but perhaps not the sociopath we believed him to be.

  Still, that didn’t stop an internal flinch when the door slid shut behind me. Though I tried to hide it, the king’s raised eyebrow told me he noticed.

  He beckoned me over to a table with an ornate silver box on it, a challenge written on his features. Steeling myself, I walked toward him. He gestured toward the box, presumably for me to open it. I pleaded with my fingers not to shake while I gently lifted the lid.

  Whatever I had been expecting, this wasn’t it.

  Nestled inside the box, cushioned by deep purple velvet, was the necklace that had started this all. Recalling how I had hated it from the moment it was stuck around my neck, I was surprised to feel a sort of longing for the thing.

  The swirling blue crystal let out the faintest glow, brighter as my hand involuntarily reached for it.

  “If there was any doubt after she wound up here, this would seem to prove that you have been truthful, Killian.” The King did not sound pleased. “The crystal has, indeed, begun to recognize her energy.”

  He turned his attention to me.

  “There will be time enough for that in a moment.” He gestured to my hand, and I pulled it back. “For now, let us sit.”

  I chose a white upholstered chair neutrally located, equidistant to the general and the king, and not as far as I could get from either of them. The king nodded, confirming my suspicion that everything he did was a test.

  The general also had a proud look in his eyes. His scrutiny wasn’t surprising, but the fact that he seemed to want me to succeed was.

  The king waited until he was sure he had my full attention to continue.

  “Tell me, Adelaide. What do you believe gives someone the right to rule?”

  A dangerous question, and not one I was sure I had an answer to.

  Was it birthright? Being born into a position didn’t make you the best person for it.

  Training? That certainly helped. Ultimately, though...

  “I believe the best rulers are those whom their people support,” I finally said.

  I couldn’t help but glance to Killian for his reaction. He gave me the barest of nods, and I looked away irritably. Why did I care what that man thought?

  “Ah, a democracy, then?” The king was definitely disappointed in my answer. Or bored by it. “So you believe we should let the uneducated masses choose their own leader?”

  “So, educate them.” I refused to look away from his direct gaze. “Educate them, and then they will have the skill set necessary to decide who they want on the throne.”

  “Unless, of course, there are two ‘educated’ factions, and they each want a different person on the throne. Then what do you have?”

  I opened my mouth, but he cut me off.

  “War. You have war then. Or worse, anarchy.” His voice had risen, but he brought it back down with his next words. “You gave it a fair bit of thought, I’ll grant you, but I’m afraid you’ve missed the point entirely. The answer is power.”

  I was unsurprised, having heard similar things from my father throughout the years, albeit woven more subtly into our conversations.

  “Power,” I argued against my better sense, “may give someone the circumstances to rule, but not necessarily the right. You’re arguing two very different fundamental concepts there, right versus ability.”

  “But doesn’t it?” He leaned forward, looking more intrigued now. “If I have the power to both protect my people and discipline them when needed, enforce the laws that allow the land to prosper, it is only power that allows those things to be so.”

  “True.” I tried to gather my thoughts enough to put together where he had gone wrong on that line of reasoning. “But it is what you do with that power that determines whether you have the right to rule.”

  The king sank back as though I had proven his point rather than mine. I caught the general’s eye. I was confused, because he looked somewhat alarmed for a moment before his features returned to their usual neutrality.

  I wasn’t sure what had transpired to elicit that reaction until the king raised his glass to me and said the last words I would ever want to hear from his lips.

  “Spoken like a true queen.”

  The Analyst

  The next time she saw the general, he was introduced as her betrothed. He gave no indication they had met before. He played the part so well, she was beginning to doubt her own mind until he knocked on her door that evening.

  “Your father thought we might become better acquainted.” His tone was neutral, but he widened his eyes.

  “That would be the logical thing to do, if we are to be married.” She backed up to allow him entry.

  He doesn’t mean it, right? She trembled in fear at the thought of them being alone in her room together but for the unconscious boy.

  The man held up a hand before him.

  “I won’t touch you without your consent. Or with it, for that matter.”

  “So, the marriage will be a political arrangement?” BeLa furrowed her brow, still too suspicious to hope.

  “There won’t be a marriage.”

  Her eyes widened.

  “Your father told me you devote your studies to medicine, so I can’t imagine you approve of his actions.”

  Was it a trap?

  “Of course, I am loyal to him.”

  “And yet, you have kept my son a secret.”

  BeLa shook her head, not because it wasn’t true, but because of what it would mean if this had all been a test and she had failed. Then, he said something that made her pale in terror.

  “I know you were going to end your life that day. It’s a look I’ve seen on many a soldier who has seen things they can’t dispel from their heads. Who feel like there is no way out.”

  “You’re mistaken,” she lied, badly.

  “It’s all right, my dear. I’m here to make a way out for you. For all of us.”

  Chapter Twelve

  Clark

  I couldn’t sit there another minute waiting on word from the general, especially when, knowing him, it might never come.

  “I’m going into town for recon.” We were in yet another village, but it was the same story.

  “Ah yes, you’re the very picture of subtlety.” Xav shook his head, but Nell cocked hers to the side, eyes narrowed.

  “Actually, he doesn’t look so different from us. His skin is perhaps half a shade too light, but his hair is dark enough and there are people with blue eyes here.” She added under her breath, “And HiLa knows he could stand to blow off some steam.”

  I had only actually attacked Jayce one time in the several days I had been stuck with his presence. Really, I was showing remarkable restraint.

  “You, on the other hand,” Nell continued, looking Xav up and down with a hint of something more than the perfunctory look she had given me. “Don’t even think about trying to go with him while we’re trying to keep a low profile.”

  He raised his eyebrows, as if to show her what he thought of her ordering him around, but didn’t argue.

  “No worries, Queenie.” I smirked when she scowled at the nickname. “I’ll go it alone.”

  “And out us with your boorish ground dwelling ways? No, you can take JeVani.” She was referring to one of the first men who had appeared in the clearing with us.

  I gritted my teeth, ready to fire back at her, until the dog from the village days earlier came up to my side. She had insisted on following me to this one, then conned me into naming her after her favorite food and letting her sleep with me.

  Okay, maybe those things were my idea.

  In any event, Biscuit leaned against my leg as she h
ad a tendency to do whenever I was upset. It was the distraction I needed to collect myself.

  Arguing would only mean standing there longer, doing nothing, I reminded myself. Besides, at least I liked the man.

  “Fine. But I want to leave now.”

  “Done.” She smiled in the obnoxious manner of someone used to getting their way.

  I tried to remind myself she was Addie’s best friend — her only real friend, from what I could tell — and that I would likely have no choice but to get along with her. Still, I couldn’t help but stalk off, grateful to be rid of her.

  As soon as the village came into view, I knew Nell had more than one reason for agreeing so readily for me to come here. Another time I might have remarked on how the word village brought forth images of the mud and straw huts we had seen in the outer islands, nothing at all like the shining glass and steel houses and gleaming walkways that ran through this one.

  I might have even had time to focus on the pang that accompanied the sight of the air pod transport system built onto a towering railway, knowing how Gunther would have loved to examine the mechanism.

  But the beauty and technological intrigue of the village were eclipsed by the gruesome accents adorning nearly every place we looked.

  Bodies hung from nooses in some places, and cages in others. Some in the cages were still clinging to life. Biscuit whined, running toward one of them. I followed her, fury overtaking me at the townspeople walking quietly underneath, not so much as glancing up.

  JeVani placed a hand on my arm, holding me in place.

  “What is wrong with these people? With your people?” I spat out.

  “Anyone who approaches them meets the same fate. Even the children.” JeVani’s tone was even angrier than mine, laced with undertones of sorrow. His eyes slid to a body I hadn’t noticed, one smaller than the others.

  “The king?” I could hardly force the words out through my clenched jaw.