Plague of Mybyncia

by C. G. Coppola

  We’ve just rounded the city’s highest tower when I notice something odd.

  At first there are only a few Mybyncians drifting, independent of their Millix and Stancimises who race around them, flustered and wanting to regain their masters. There must have been some sort of accident—a collision of the large animals. But as we descend further and the city becomes clearer, the few floating bodies multiply and suddenly, I can’t breathe.

  They’re everywhere.

  The ocean is polluted with drifting forms, most lifeless while a handful of others are barely able to move themselves, all attempting to head for the castle’s FH.

  “What is this?” Maris whispers, disbelief in her tone.

  She slows and we all do the same, cautious as we fall beneath the top layer of drifting Mybyncians. They pass with the rippling waves of the surrounding Stancimises and Millix, one lifeless body heading straight for us.

  “Maris…” Reid says, pulling up next to me. “What happened?”

  “I do not know…” there’s panic in her voice.

  She stops fully, scanning the area with wide, woeful eyes as she glances from one body to another. Swallowing, she watches the floating body stray closer.

  “Do not touch it!” Qippert warns, moving out of the way.

  The rest of us follow just as it drifts over. Something is wrong with it. Besides being limp, it’s… discolored. The Mybyncians have sage skin, but this body has turned a light gray—the color of the ash that littered Harrizel’s ground. We all back away from it, the body outstretched as though reaching for something, someone. It’s a mayan—or was. She’s clearly dead, and probably has been for a while. Her lips and hair are now charcoal black and her cheeks and stomach, sunken in as though she’d starved to death.

  “Maris?” Qippert asks, the same panic rising in his tone.

  “We must get to the queen,” Maris takes off without waiting for us. “Now.”

  She flies straight for the Docking Station and we’re right behind her, rushing through the opaque sea of bodies. She’s nearly to the entrance when she slows and, after a few seconds, falls off Shaya completely.

  “Maris!” Qippert calls, racing towards her. Maris has only begun to drift when Qippert leaps from his Millix, capturing her in his arms. “Maris!”

  But she’s unresponsive, and although he’s trying, he’s unable to swim with her in his arms. His Millix swims around the two of them, Shaya creating rapid waves that send the nearby bodies flying.

  Lalu, can you talk to Shaya?

  Yes.

  We need to get Maris on her.

  Maris is unresponsive.

  We need to get her inside. Tell Shaya we’re going to place Maris on her and that she needs to go to the Docking Station.

  Who is ‘we’?

  Qippert, Reid and myself.

  I will do it.

  “Pratt, Mae, keep going. You too, guys. We’ll meet you at the station. Reid,” I head for the struggling pair, “we need to get Maris on Shaya.”

  “Right behind you,” he says, leading Palli towards Qippert who hasn’t made any distance with her in his arms. He’s trying to kick but getting nowhere, only making frantic ripples in the water. As we near, we both jump from our Millix, helping hold Maris although Qippert is still trying to shake her awake.

  “We’ve got to get her on Shaya,” I advise, just as the Millix nears.

  With a group effort, we lift Maris and place her stomach down at the base of Shaya’s neck and back. Once she’s on, Shaya takes off towards the Docking Station as requested, Lalu coming for me again. Reid helps me climb on and then assists Qippert as his Millix returns. Once Reid has mounted Palli, we all set out in the same direction, racing furiously. We’re there in seconds, but it’s enough time for a quick exchange with Lalu. I pat her neck as we slow for the ascent.

  Thanks, Lalu.

  Shaya thanks you.

  Lalu, do you know what’s happening?

  There is death in the water.

  Are you affected?

  No.

  Will we be?

  No. It is inherent to the Mybyncians.

  I have to go help them. I’ll be back later.

  Goodbye, Fallon.

  As soon as Lalu breaks the water’s surface, I jump onto the limestone ground and am immediately surrounded. Mybyncians are everywhere. Most still retain their sage skin but several are quickly descending into the light gray hue, their features beginning to concave. A panicked wail reverberates about the space, howling and crying joining the cacophonous, chaotic scene.

  Reid and Qippert are already pulling Maris’s limp form from Shaya. Struggling at the awkward angle, Reid helps get her into Qippert’s shaking arms.

  “What the—?” Tucker exhales at the crowded station, Werzo, Booker and Jace right behind him.

  “Fallon!” Pratt calls, racing up to me. “It’s everyone!”

  “Not everyone,” Mae is right behind her. “Almost… more than half… they’re,” she gulps, her eyes wide with panicked horror. “Something’s happening to them.”

  “No shit,” Werzo jumps from his Millix, joining Tucker, Booker and Jace who’ve melded into the crowd, all trying to keep close to Reid.

  “We need to get to the queen,” Qippert glances between us, frantic. “I need to get Maris help.”

  “What if it’s infectious?”

  “It is not,” a seemingly healthy miyon mutters. He’s on the ground, a mayan with skin just beginning to lose color in his arms. Her lips are a dull crimson, almost brown. “It is from the water,” he explains. “Anyone exposed is infected.”

  “How do you know?” Reid asks.

  “Everyone in the Foreign Headquarters was untouched. Once we realized it is in the water, we started flocking here for refuge.”

  Qippert glances between us again. “We must get to the queen.”

  “And Princess Ariana,” Pratt gasps, looking at me.

  Qippert takes off down the only tunnel, which is also heavily lined with Mybyncians. Tucker and the boys are on his heels at first, but they pass him, darting through the thick herd to clear a path. Qippert rushes, but with the unexpected mass and Maris’s limp body in his arms, he’s moving slower than usual. Reid and I keep to his side, Pratt and Mae just behind us.

  “Almost there,” Qippert glances to Maris’s unfocused eyes.

  “Move!” Werzo calls ahead. “Out of the way!”

  We’re through the passage and into the Great Hall in a matter of seconds. But it’s no better than the Docking Station. The entire room is suffocated with Mybyncians of all degrees. Several are fine—healthy—but many lie on the floor or against the wall, their skin darkening and their faces sinking in.

  “Oh my God…” Mae looks around.

  “Qippert!” Clarence calls, rushing toward us. Finding Maris in his arms, he pauses, looking up. “When?”

  “Just now.”

  “We’ll get her some Dilly. Seems to be the only thing to slow it down.”

  “Just slow it?”

  “We don’t have anything to stop it just yet. We’re working on it.”

  “And the queen?”

  “Unaffected,” Clarence clears his throat. “But… Princess Sansa and Ariana went for a swim this morning. Before we knew anything had happened.”

  “Are they…?” Qippert can’t finish his question.

  “They’re doing alright, for now. They’ve been given Dilly twice an hour. It’s keeping the ailment at bay… but…” he sighs. “They’ll need a cure.”

  “Which is?” I ask.

  “Not here, currently,” Clarence glances behind him. He rubs his hands, turning back to us. “Sampson is working on it. Come on,” he motions to Maris, “bring her over.”

  “Do we know what happened?” I’m at Clarence’s left side while Qippert keeps to his right, Maris beginning to twitch awake in his arms.

  “Not yet, no,” he shakes his head, disappointed as well. “We discovered it late this morning. Didn�
��t even know something happened until they started showing up.”

  “It’s like half the city’s here,” Mae whispers.

  “And the other half’s outside…” Werzo mumbles to himself.

  Clarence ignores him. “Got to hand it to the Mybyncians. Knew right away it was in the water. Sampson and I couldn’t peg it until they told us.”

  “How’d they find out?” Reid asks.

  “The worst cases were exposed longer. Most Mybyncians live solely in water—makes sense,” he shrugs, shifting through a thicket of bodies, “but some have a separate space of air, used for entertaining visitors. Those lucky enough to have spent the night there were unharmed.”

  “Why would they sleep in a room full of air?” Pratt asks, following Clarence as he moves faster towards the back, “if they normally…”

  “Continued acclimation,” he moves past a couple leaning on each other, each possessing a look of utter exhaustion. “If Mybyncians go too long without immersing themselves in the environment, it’d be much more difficult to handle when the time comes.”

  “But you said only some have these air rooms?” I ask.

  “Yes,” he tosses me a wary look. “Many don’t find it necessary to cater to visitors. That’s why it hit so many so fast. But we think those who lived closest to where the toxin was released died immediately. Everyone else… it just sort of took its time,” he arrives at the back wall, stopping to turn to us. “The longer Mybyncians were in the water, the faster the toxin spread in their system. Once they realized it slowed in the air, they either stayed in their visitor’s room or made for the FH.”

  “Oh God,” I cup my mouth at the realization, “so there could still be some people trapped there?”

  “Yes,” Sampson grieves, approaching us, “and without the Dilly. If they were previously exposed, they’re still infected. Just dying much, much slower. Put Maris here,” Sampson indicates an open space on the floor. Qippert lays her down with shaking arms, placing her between two of Ariana’s guards who have just barely begun to darken. Their eyes flutter, trying to see but only staring up blankly.

  “Mallup,” Sampson cups the shoulder of the rose-haired mayan who was flirting with Reid last night, “please bring some more Dilly. Quickly.”

  “Yes, Fychu,” she takes off through the tightly-knit herd.

  “Well how do we get to them?” I ask. “Those stuck in their homes?”

  “We can’t—not right now,” Clarence huffs, hands on his hips. “We have to take care of the princesses and everyone here…” he leans in with a sudden look of dire caution. He lowers his voice to a warning whisper. “There’s not enough Dilly to go around and they’ll realize it soon. We’re going to have a worse panic on our hands than this.”

  “Where’s the chancellor?” Reid glances around.

  “That’s another problem…”

  “He’s in the prison,” Sampson says with an even tone. “He was interrogating Perio.”

  “No one can get to him,” Queen Ravan appears behind Sampson. She wears her usual impassive face, but a twinge of fear and despair creep from the corners of her slanted eyes and down turned mouth. “I will not allow anyone to risk that plague. Besides,” she exhales, defeated, “they will die by the time they reach him.”

  “But it only affects Mybyncians,” I say.

  “Yes, fortunate for you.”

  “No,” I sigh, ignoring her tone. “I’m saying we could get him—Chancellor Keller.”

  “He will die by the time you bring him back.”

  “Not if we put him in a suit.”

  “That is if he is still alive.”

  “Isn’t it worth checking?”

  “And how do you expect to get into the prison?”

  “I went yesterday with the princess. I’m sure I can find my way through again.”

  Queen Ravan looks over me, unsure. Finally, after a long minute of consideration, she nods. “The people have an indissoluble loyalty to the chancellor. They will listen to him, even ill. It will be the best chance we will have to keep order when further panic arises,” she looks over me. “I will agree to this.”

  “Will you be able to lead them without our assistance?” Sampson asks, glancing around the filled hall. “We’ll need to stay here and keep order.”

  “I can do it,” I gulp, suddenly feeling the pressure I so easily volunteered for.

  “There is an escape suit in my room,” the queen advises, “for emergencies. You will take this to Chancellor Keller.”

  “Yes, your Majesty.”

  “When are we going?” Reid asks.

  “There’s no time like the present,” Clarence shrugs as Mallup returns with a bowl of green, mushy weed.

  She moves past him and crouches down by Maris. Pinching her mouth open, Mallup feeds her a few spoonfuls of the plant. Maris blinks, her eyes clearing as she swallows the mushy substance.

  “Do you need any of us to stay behind?” Werzo asks. “To help…”

  “Administer the Dilly?” Sampson interjects, “Yes—thank you for volunteering.”

  “Yep,” Clarence cups his shoulder, “only need a team of four or five to retrieve Keller anyway.”

  “Pratt, Mae—you stay with Werzo and help administer the Dilly,” Sampson motions around the room. “Mallup will help you. The rest of you come with me. We’ll grab the suit from the queen’s chambers and have you out to get the chancellor.”

  “But I want to help!” Pratt gripes, looking to me for assistance. “You sure you don’t need an extra hand?”

  “We need it here,” Sampson says. “You’d be doing us a great favor.”

  Pouting for a few seconds, Pratt finally gives in. “Alright… but I want to help save someone the next time.”

  “You got it,” I wink, following Sampson’s lead as Reid, Tucker, Jace and Booker keep behind me.

  We’re shuffling through the tightly packed room, Mybyncian attendants rushing about with bowls of Dilly in both hands. Wails and grieving sobs bounce off the rocky walls, echoing from everywhere in the crowded Great Hall.

  “Will the queen be alright?” I ask Sampson, joining his left side. “And Princess Sansa and Ariana?”

  “The queen will be fine. No one is here to harm her—her only danger lies in the foreseeable panic. That’s why the chancellor’s rescue is so imperative. I tried explaining this to her but she wouldn’t risk anyone to get him. I did, however,” he throws me a look, “suggest yourself, as you did remind her that you went yesterday. But she’s very rattled right now… not thinking clearly. Somewhere near half of Pryncbia is dead outside the kingdom and the other half is held up here, many already exposed. Even with the chancellor infected, he’ll still bring a sense of composure.” Sampson moves through a pair of mayans clinging to another other, crying. “I’m glad you volunteered to go.”

  “How could I not?”

  “Still,” he leads us into another tunnel, just as packed with Mybyncians as the Great Hall, “I’ve visited the prison. It’s not an easy journey.”

  “What’re we talking about, here?” Jace asks.

  “Dark,” Sampson tosses him a glance, “skinny passages… you’ve been accustomed to the FH. Until you reach the prison’s center, you will be complete submerged.”

  “Yeah…” Jace exhales, “that doesn’t sound fun.”

  “It’s not,” I cringe, recalling the overwhelming feeling of confinement. Especially that last tunnel, when I could barely fit. Stopping, I turn to Booker, “You might need to wait outside with the Millix.”

  “Why?” he frowns.

  Sampson stops as well, eyeing the width of his shoulders and overall bulk. “Yes, Fallon is right. It’s a tight squeeze. We can’t afford any unnecessary issues. Best you wait with the Millix. Help take some of the load off the boys when they bring the chancellor down.”

  “Yes, sir,” Booker nods as Sampson continues down the tunnel.

  The further we get, the less Mybyncians crowd the passage, most cli
nging back toward the Great Hall. Many still linger, but it’s darker down here.

  Up ahead, there’s a solid turquoise coral door, blocking the exit. Once we reach it, we’re practically alone, the last of the Mybyncians a yard or so behind us.

  “And the princesses?” Tucker clears his throat. “Will they be alright?”

  “They will be if we can scrounge up some more Dilly.”

  “But it’s only temporary, right?” Tucker asks. “Wouldn’t we need something longer-lasting?”

  “Yes, we will,” he agrees, “but right now, we must work with what we have.”

  Reid glances between Sampson and Tucker, hesitant to bring up the unfortunate fact. “Clarence said the Dilly’s in short supply.”

  “So we’ll have to get more,” Sampson shoves open the coral door. “Here we are.”

  We all step in, instantly spellbound. Large and grandiose like the Great Hall, the queen’s chamber is ornately decorated with white coral furnishings, strings of pink pearls draped about, hanging from one end of the golden mosaic room to the other. But the area is comprised of several smaller rocky walls that create separate compartments of space in the one enormous room. I don’t have a minute to appreciate the enchanting architecture when Sampson closes the door behind us, rushing forward.

  “This way.” He leads us through the compartments, moving swiftly until a thunderous boom screams ahead. “Get back!”

  We dive behind the closest half-wall, pressing ourselves to it. I’m sandwiched between Reid and Tucker, my heart hammering, trying desperately to identify the source of the sound. I know it; I know I’ve heard it before. Sampson’s at the edge of the wall, still as a statue. Eyes closed and concentrating, his stature grows and in seconds, he is large and dark green, having transformed into his true Dofinike form.

  Another loud blast and suddenly, an unfamiliar Dofinike flies past. In one swift move, Sampson knocks the Enidd out of his hand and retrieves it for himself, gunning down the Vermix. Another races by and Sampson shoots before the he even sees him. Tossing the first Enidd to Reid, Sampson retrieves one from the second fallen Vermix, returning to his place on the wall.