by Brenda Hiatt
His absence from school worried everyone not in the know. I overheard a couple of football players wondering if he was sick again, but didn’t bother to reassure them. He probably was by now.
Ms. Harrigan didn’t act worried. If anything she looked smug, though that might have been my imagination. Just as well she didn’t say anything to me, since I’d have been rude and probably sent to the office. In Science, I couldn’t tell whether Mr. Gilliland knew or not, since he always stared at me like that. I didn’t really care.
I was a little surprised when Sean and Molly both showed up to walk me to lunch, after the way they’d acted on the bus. It’s not like they had to keep me from spending time with Rigel now.
“How are you feeling?” Molly asked as we walked.
I shot her a sour look. “Lousy. How do you think?”
She bit her lip. “So it’s . . . not working?”
“Takes a day or two, Moll. That’s what they said Saturday,” Sean reminded her.
Though I wouldn’t admit it, I did feel a little better than last night, unlike the last time Rigel and I were apart. No nausea and just the slightest headache. Oddly, my lack of physical symptoms upset me more. It should hurt to be apart. That’s how our bond was supposed to work.
Again, I wondered whether they’d given Rigel the antidote yet. If they had, if it really worked on both of us, would his parents try at all to get us back together? Why would they? I tried to fight down my panic at that thought.
To distract myself, I asked, “So, what did you guys do this weekend? What did you mean on the bus?”
“You don’t know?” Molly sounded genuinely surprised.
“Should I?”
“Duh,” Sean replied, still clearly pissed. “We spent all day Saturday and half of Sunday fixing up some old lady’s trailer just outside of Kokomo, like Mum told your aunt.”
I looked at Molly for verification. “You did? I thought that was totally made up.”
“It sort of was, but we had to make it look good in case your aunt checked it out. So Mum called the church and got the name and address of somebody on the list for assistance and carted us up there. I even used your name so the woman would say I was you if anyone asked.” She flexed her shoulders, like they were sore.
“What all did you do?”
Sean grimaced. “Fixed her steps and painted them, then fixed and painted the lattice around the bottom of the trailer, to keep animals out. Stuff like that. I had to leave Saturday practice early. Hope Coach won’t make me do laps around the gym.”
“Oh. Sorry. I didn’t know.”
He shrugged, but his expression softened. “We were all really worried about you, you know, even apart from the political stuff. I’m glad you’re back. And safe.”
Though I knew he meant well, I stiffened. “I was safe the whole time. I was with Rigel.”
The softness instantly disappeared. “You both must realize now how stupid that was. How dangerous. What was he thinking? What were you? What if—”
“Sean,” Molly cautioned him. He’d been getting a little loud and people were starting to glance our way. “Not here.”
“Right.” He shot a sideways look at me and ducked his head. “Sorry. Out of line. But you have no idea how scared I—we—were.”
His earnestness touched me in spite of myself, but before I could think of any way to respond, Deb and Bri joined us in the lunch line, so we obviously had to change the subject.
“You don’t think Rigel will be sick for long, do you?” Bri suddenly asked me as we reached our table.
I looked up, startled. “What? Why?” I hadn’t denied it when she’d assumed in English he was sick, but I hadn’t confirmed it, either. I hoped her words weren’t a bad omen.
“The winter formal next week, silly! You guys are going, right?” Then, without waiting for me to answer, “How about you, Sean? Have you asked anybody to the dance yet?”
Clearly caught off guard, Sean shook his head. “Um, not yet. Who are you guys going with?”
Bri gave him such a flirtatious smile it was all I could do not to roll my eyes. “Depends on who asks me.”
They bantered back and forth, then Deb and Molly joined in. The whole scene suddenly struck me as surreal. How could everybody act so . . . normal when Rigel was in prison facing who knew what, while super-advanced, non-human aliens might be preparing to wipe us all out of existence? Not that any of them knew that last part, but still.
Pretending to be interested in my friends’ conversation, I focused on the first of those problems, determined to have Rigel back in Jewel by the end of the week. Finally, halfway through History, I hatched the beginnings of a plan. In Health class, I worked out more details while the teacher droned on about STDs. I was impatient now for school to end so I could get home to my scroll to double check a few things.
When I finally headed to the bus, I was startled to see Sean waiting by the curb. I knew he had basketball practice, so I hurried when he motioned me over.
“M, I should have told you this earlier, sorry,” he murmured so no one else could hear. “But, well, I was still pissed at Stuart for going along with that dumb running-away thing.”
“Told me what?” His worried expression put all my nerves on high alert.
He looked over my shoulder at my waiting friends, then back at me, pain and apology in his eyes. “Something my uncle said after you left our house last night. Not only does it sound like there’s no way Stuart is getting that antidote thing, he hinted that some folks in Montana might . . . take matters into their own hands. About his sentence, I mean.”
I stared at him, stricken, feeling all the blood leave my face. “What do you mean? They might . . . lynch him or something?” I remembered what we’d studied in History about the Ku Klux Klan. “He might not even get a trial?”
Sean shrugged, looking more miserable than ever. “I’m not sure. I asked, but he didn’t really answer, just looked . . . smug. I . . . thought you should know. I may not like Stuart much, but—”
“Thanks, Sean,” I said with an effort, fighting the panic that threatened to choke me. “I . . . I appreciate you telling me. Really.”
With a quick nod, he loped off to practice and I climbed onto the bus. When Deb asked me what was wrong, I just shook my head and pretended to listen to Bri’s plans for a shopping trip.
Once home, I had a bunch of chores to catch up on after being gone all weekend, which was frustrating since now I really needed to finish working out my plan. Fast as I tried to work, Aunt Theresa got home before I was done and kept me downstairs to help with dinner and then do the dishes.
Finally, claiming I was still tired from all my “work” over the weekend, I escaped to my bedroom, where I immediately pulled out my scroll and my notes. First I reread a few things I remembered from before, then used the index to double check the wording on a couple of statutes.
My homework went completely undone, but that was the absolute least of my worries. By eleven o’clock, I thought my plan was solid. It was gutsy, but should work, since I had Nuathan law and precedent on my side. The only problem was, once I convened the Council there would be no going back.
I’d originally planned to go to the O’Garas’ after school tomorrow and ask Allister to convene them, but after what Sean told me this afternoon, I was afraid to wait that long. Some of the Council might head back to wherever they lived, and any delay might give those people in Montana a chance do something awful to Rigel before I could act.
I put my ear to my bedroom door and listened until Uncle Louie was snoring good and loud, then I tiptoed downstairs to the kitchen, picked up the phone and dialed Rigel’s land line. Late as it was, I wasn’t surprised when it rang four times before Shim answered.
“Hello?” He sounded tired but also cautious, though I was sure caller ID told him who was calling.
“Shim, it’s M. How quickly can you reconvene the Council? It’s important.”
“Ah, one moment, Exce
llency.” There was a long pause, during which I could hear voices in the background. I hoped that was a good sign. Then, “Everyone is still in Jewel, though three members have early flights out of Indianapolis tomorrow. Perhaps next week we could—”
“No. It has to be before anyone leaves. Either right now, tonight, or they can cancel their flights and we’ll do it tomorrow. No later.”
There was another hushed conference at the other end of the line, then Shim said, “Very well, Princess. Shall I have Allister pick you up on his way here? He is at the O’Garas’ tonight.”
My heart pounded with anticipation and astonishment at my own audacity. “That’ll be fine,” I told him, hoping against hope I could pull this off. “I’ll be waiting out front.”
CHAPTER 42
chabhil (KAB-vil): negotiation; debate; (occ.) ultimatum
I ran upstairs to change into something more presentable than my ratty sweats, brushed my hair and clipped it back, tucked the scroll-book in my pocket, then hurried—quietly—back downstairs. I’d be grounded till I was forty if Aunt Theresa caught me sneaking out again, but with Rigel’s freedom, memory, maybe even life at stake, I was more than willing to take that risk.
The kitchen door was farther from my aunt and uncle’s bedroom, so I slipped out that way, then walked up the driveway to the street. I’d only been waiting five minutes—wishing just a little for Sean’s omni and its personal climate control—when Allister pulled up.
“Thanks for the ride,” I said as politely as I could manage as I climbed in. I could tell Allister what I really thought of him after I delivered my ultimatum.
He hmphed, not unlike Aunt Theresa, and pulled away from the curb. “It’s an honor to serve, Princess.” His voice dripped sarcasm but I didn’t react. All my thoughts were focused on the meeting ahead.
The drive to the Stuarts’ house seemed longer than usual due to the chilly silence in the car and my mounting nervousness. When we finally got there, I didn’t wait for Allister to open my door but got out and walked ahead of him to the house.
Fake it till you make it, I told myself firmly. For the next hour I had to act like I’d been brought up as royalty instead of a misfit midwestern orphan. Rigel’s life depended on how well I could carry this off.
One of the Council members I’d just met yesterday, a tall, absurdly handsome blond man named Connor, opened the front door just as I reached it. “Excellency,” he said, with that fist-over-heart bow thing. I inclined my head exactly as I’d been taught, determined to look more regal than I felt. Allister followed me in and I didn’t have to look at him to know he was scowling.
Everyone had convened around the dining room table, which conveniently seated eight. They all rose when I entered, then bowed to me in unison. Again I inclined my head, telling myself firmly that this was my due, not something that should weird me out.
Deliberately, ignoring the humility that had been drummed into me over the years by Aunt Theresa, I moved to the empty chair at the head of the table. Allister irked me by taking the seat at the opposite end, presumably because he was the “ranking Royal” as he liked to remind everyone.
Except now I was.
“Thank you all for meeting on such short notice,” I said, proud that my voice held only the tiniest hint of a quiver. “We had to cut our discussion short yesterday and now I’d like to continue it. A lot of facts were laid out for me, but very few of my questions were answered. Tonight I want those answers, after which I have a proposition for you.”
I paused for breath after my rehearsed spiel, half expecting some kind of protest from Allister or Kyna or someone. None came, so I continued.
“First, you must have found out by now whether Rigel has been given the same antidote I have?” I looked to Shim, who frowned unhappily.
“I did inquire, Excellency, and was told that no antidote was sent to Montana. Supposedly—” He shot a glance down the table to Allister— “that is being rectified?”
Allister, I noticed, didn’t meet my eye. “I believe so, yes.”
“You ‘believe’ so?” I echoed. “Not good enough. I want someone to verify for me—now—that Rigel has either been given the antidote, or that the antidote is on its way to him. Also, that it will work for him. Can you do that, Allister?”
He shifted in his seat uncomfortably. “I’ll, ah, have to make a call, but it’s awfully late—”
“It’s two hours earlier in Montana. Make the call.”
Reddening, he glanced around the table, clearly hoping someone would back him up or rein me in. When no one did, he took out his cell phone and got up to leave the room.
“No, here is fine,” I told him. I knew I was pushing it, but I didn’t trust him for a second to do what I asked if he was out of earshot.
With a quick glower at me, Allister made the call. “Yes, it’s me. Have some of that antidote sent to Montana on the next available flight and tell them to administer it to the boy. . . . That’s right. . . . No, never mind that. . . . Yes, yes, on my authority.”
He punched off his phone. “There. It’s done.”
“Thank you, Allister.”
Even though I’d clearly heard the man on the other end say, You’re reversing your previous order? I decided to move on rather than confront Allister about it just yet. If things went the way I hoped, his agenda wouldn’t matter. I took heart from the fact that some of the other Council members were now looking askance at Allister, too, since it was obvious even from his end of the conversation that he’d been less than honest before.
“Now that we’ve established that Rigel was not given any antidote,” I continued, “I want him released and returned to Jewel. Immediately.”
“But—” Allister motioned to his phone. Then several others spoke up.
“Excellency, that’s not possible—or prudent,” Kyna informed me.
At the same time, Connor exclaimed, “I thought you understood that he must remain there for now, if only for appearances’ sake.”
Even Shim, who had been frowning furiously at Allister a second ago, said, “I fear that could undermine our effort to have you quickly Acclaimed Sovereign by Nuath’s citizens.”
I let the storm of protests die down before responding. “Yes, I understand how important appearances are right now. You all made that clear to me, repeatedly. Believe me, I don’t want to be the cause of a civil war on Mars, which is why I’m willing to propose a compromise. Even though I don’t have to.”
“What do you mean, Excellency?” asked Breann, a stunning brunette and another high-ranking Royal.
“I mean that I have the authority to have Rigel released and brought back without the Council’s agreement—though I would rather have it.”
Several heads started shaking.
Malcolm, another Royal I’d met for the first time last night, spoke first. “I’m afraid you are overestimating your current power, Princess. Not only are you underage, you haven’t yet been Acclaimed or installed. There are very specific ceremonies—”
“That are traditional. I know. I’ve read all about them.” I pulled out my scroll and snapped it open on the table. “But I’ve also read all of Nuathan law, the entire code, which isn’t all that long. Not nearly as long as the hundreds and hundreds of pages of tradition and precedent—which I’ve also read. Isn’t it true that law always supersedes tradition?” I looked around at them all, trying to hide the fact that I was holding my breath.
Slowly, Malcolm’s head began to nod, then Breann’s and Connor’s, and finally, to my surprise, even Allister’s. But he was the one who protested next.
“None of our traditions are contrary to codified law. They would never have become traditions if they were.”
I couldn’t bring myself to look Allister in the face for fear I’d say what I really wanted to, which wouldn’t be regal at all. “Perhaps not contrary, at least under normal circumstances. But these aren’t normal circumstances, are they? When was the last time you had an undera
ge Sovereign, with no surviving ancestor, who inherited without warning?”
“Was that Arturo, son of Tiernan?” Malcolm hazarded.
I nodded. “Almost eight hundred years ago. But the law hasn’t changed since then, nor has anything happened to overrule the precedent that was set. Tradition is different now, but not the law itself. Arturo took power at the age of fourteen, mediating disputes and confirming officials. He even started the space program that eventually led to the first exploratory mission to Earth. His Regent wasn’t appointed for more than two months, according to your own historical records.”
“But the Regent is always appointed—” Allister began, but I cut him off.
“According to tradition, yes. As soon as a new underage Sovereign is installed. But the two times since Arturo you’ve had an underage Sovereign, it was not unexpected. A Regent had already been chosen by Acclamation and confirmed by the previous Sovereign.”
To my surprise, it was Nara, usually so supportive, who launched the next volley. “I won’t deny for a moment that you have the right to issue whatever orders you see fit, Excellency,” she said. “But please do try to look at the larger picture. We really do have your best interests in mind, as well as those of our people.”
“What part of the larger picture?” I asked her.
“Specifically, your fitness to rule. Not that I doubt it for a second,” she quickly added. “But it’s terribly important that we convince the majority of our people, here and especially on Mars, as quickly as possible. If it were to become known that you ran away of your own volition—”
Now I saw where she was going. “You mean you want to use Rigel as a scapegoat so it will look like I was an unwilling victim.”
“Only . . . only temporarily,” she assured me with a placating smile.
I shook my head. “How am I more fit to lead if I was a victim instead of an instigator? The opposite should be true. Besides, how many people actually know I was gone? Did word get back to Mars about what happened?”