The Pursual: Book 1 of The Nome Chronicles

by F. F. John

  “The doctors say mommy could go any day now.” He rubs his forehead, but the worry lines don’t erase. And the way he called his mother ‘mommy’ …

  I feel evil. If there was anyone here who deserves the pass to walk away without bringing public shame to himself or his family, it would be him. Here I am, the guy who meets with Neith in the mornings. I’m scared to mention the pass to Seth in case he takes advantage of it. Me, the guy who won the first competition and is in the running for Paladin.

  The sweet apple’s aftertaste sours on my tongue.

  He should comm Neith and tell her he needs the pass to be by his mom’s side. My teeth carve out another chunk of the apple as I go through the motion of eating it.

  “She doesn’t want me to come home.” He chokes out a small, chortled sound. “She’s forbidden it.”

  “What are you going to do?”

  He lets out a heartier laugh and further sinks into the sofa. “Anyone who knows my mother knows that disobeying her is not an option.” His voice becomes tender as if recalling a precious moment. “Father says it’ll upset her to see me sad. So, he’d rather I stay in the competition.” He takes a big bite and chews quickly. “It makes her feel better to have one less person there as she dies.” Tears glisten from green eyes as he whips his head to the window.

  Lost for words, I chew wishing I could disappear. The shame of not mentioning the pass stings and my stomach twists.

  Well, he said he would stay to give his mother her wish. Maybe I’m not so evil?

  There is no justification for my stance and I feel horrible. I recall telling Neith I don’t want to become like the other participants who aren’t here for the right reasons. Am I any different from them? Granted, my priority isn’t the elevation of my family, but it’s as selfish in its own way. Still, I can’t bring myself to do what I know, deep in my heart, is the right thing.

  We stare at the mountains in the distance. A ray of light hits the peak and the grass takes on a light yellowish-green hue. Wisps of clouds float over the mountains casting irregular shapes on their surfaces. The image is striking and I wish life was as ideal as the picture before us.

  Chapter Twenty

  Invier

  “Scion Erhart Vesta!”

  The audience claps as he walks into the auditorium, head slumped. He moves lightly, brunette hair falling flat on his head. Unlike yesterday, where we walked in as a group, we enter individually according to our competition rank.

  “Scion James Saint Esprit!”

  James leaves the rest of us in the tunnel under the auditorium. He’s the second lowest in the competition rankings, but that doesn’t matter to him. He bounces on his feet, head held high and winks at someone.

  “Scion Ika Ategun!”

  There’s a smattering of clapping, likely from his nome members. If their numbers are anything like the opening ceremony, then he’s getting a good amount of support. The overwhelming response, however, is booing from the crowd. I guess people didn’t like his comment about not wanting to be in the Pursual yesterday. Still, he wears a defiant smirk.

  “Scion Mehrdad Cyra!”

  Despite being fourth in the rankings, the crowd screams for him. Well, the girls in the crowd. If I didn’t know better, I’d think he was winning the competition. He steps out and coolly observes the crowd. The cheering amplifies and he continues his march to where the other participants wait.

  Portan has to wait for the applause to calm before he continues the introductions.

  “Scioness Adela of Nome Seltan!”

  The clapping is earsplitting. She walks out and waves briefly. The roar gets louder.

  “Guess Mehrdad’s not the favorite anymore,” I yell for Seth’s benefit and he gives me an amused grin.

  “Scion Seth Talum!”

  The stomping from above makes me jump and I edge closer to the exit. I flick my gaze upwards and check out the ceiling above me. It’s the underside of the auditorium’s seating. All the nuts and bolts appear to be in place. Still, it’s best I’m not in the tunnel if the structure chooses to give way to the enthusiastic audience.

  White rose petals flutter to Seth’s feet as he strolls in. He picks one up, bows and a group of girls swoon. I could never be that charismatic and hope I don’t have to be.

  My heart remains swift as I realize I’m no longer worried about the auditorium seats collapsing on me. Now, I’m worried whether I’ll get a reaction as nice as the other participants. Will they give me a lukewarm welcome? Will I receive boos like Ika?

  I tap my thigh with shaking fingers. “And last but not least, may I welcome the winner of yesterday’s competition.” He pauses as if to build anticipation for my entrance.

  “Scion Invier Floran!”

  My ears deafen from the applause. Some nomes don’t join in the welcome but glower instead. There are many faces I don’t recognize. They likely belong to people from the Lower Houses. Portan mentioned during the orientation that while not all sixty of the Lower Houses were invited, at least the top twenty families may attend the competition events. Xana Sirou, however, is on her feet. She waves but I pretend to not notice and turn my head. She’s one of Song’s closest friends and ever since Song revealed she has a crush on me, things have been odd.

  Notwithstanding, there are double the number of people from the first event. My mother is easy to spot, of course. She’s beside herself, waving a fan that matches her blue outfit. The fan is bedecked in sparkles, and even from here, I can see they are arranged in the image of our family’s insignia. Dad smiles at me. There is something in his expression, that I can’t decipher from this angle. Song cheers me on and behind her are several people I don’t recognize. I pull my attention away from the nomes and smile into the crowd, relieved that my worst fear didn’t come true.

  Roses of all colors descend to the auditorium’s floor. I’ve never received this much attention before and while I’m embarrassed to admit it to myself, the grin on my face must say it all.

  Neith is between her father and best friend. They each clap with a certain aloofness, though Neith wears a broad smile. I know it’s for me and nobody else. My gaze goes from her red lips to her slim light brown hands with red nails. I can’t deny the fact that I love her and want to be with her. I don’t want anyone else to stand by her side but me.

  The crowd’s thundering continues far longer than it did for any of the others and I stand even taller. Mehrdad and Ika give me sidelong glances that I ignore. I’m going to have a target on my back today and those two will aim for me with everything they’ve got.

  When the cheering reduces to a fervent humming, Portan speaks. “Ladies and Gentlemen of the great Nomes and Lower Houses, seven participants remain in today’s challenge.” The crowd gets a little louder.

  The participants exchange loaded looks between ourselves, disquiet settling over us. We still have no clue what caused Loic’s death. This despite Portan coming to brief us. Our dinner afterward was fraught with theories that made little sense. “It is with great regret,” the old man continues, "that I announce the passing of one of our competitors, Scion Loic Carre.

  “Despite this loss, our brave participants, along with Titan Reffour and Scioness Reffour decided to honor Scion Carre’s memory with today’s scheduled competition. He would want us to push through the pain.” The untruths fly from his lips with no effort.

  The crowd claps. It starts as a polite sound but eventually reaches a crescendo with many also stomping their feet. Several chant “In his memory” and my hands itch to cover my ears but I hold them in place at my sides. At no point did we, the participants, agree to ‘push through the pain.’ In fact, I highly doubt any of the participants about Loic’s demise.

  He didn’t even care for his own supposed friend James when he lay unconscious in the virt. A glimpse down the line confirms my conclusions. Not one of the participants appears crestfallen by his passing. Actually, Mehrdad, Ika, and James are all smiles, but not kind ones shared
for a fallen friend. Instead, they bear wicked grins that highlight their anticipation for the upcoming competition.

  “Let us please take a moment of silence, out of respect for the loss of a scion who has become family to us all.”

  The auditorium stills as if someone flipped a switch. I resist the urge, scoffing out loud. Other than Loic’s family, I doubt many care about the boy. Like Neith said, these people want to be here in case anything interesting happens.

  The silence ends abruptly when music fills the auditorium. The other participants and I watch a video montage of Loic. Some of the pictures show a young boy with strawberry blond hair amongst a group of much taller age mates. The montage zooms through what we are to believe is a representation of his life with several more pictures of him smiling. I don’t think I saw Loic smile once in the few hours I spent in his company.

  When the video comes to an end, there are a few claps from those in the stands but nothing like what I would have expected.

  “Dear participants, we applaud your bravery to continue with today’s challenge.” Now, the crowd claps with enthusiasm. Like deadly predators, they smell blood in the air and are ready to pounce. “Please remember that the rules still apply.” His eyes rake over us intently. “Your objective today is to stay alive for three hours in the shell.”

  Stay alive? That’s it? What an ominous instruction. After yesterday’s challenge, I can’t imagine what virtual harm they plan to put us in danger from. My gaze wanders and soon falls upon Xana. I don’t linger on her.

  “Remember, time in the construct is different from time out here. Keep your wits about you and you’ll get through.”

  A man in black ushers us towards the shell’s entrance and we walk in one by one.

  “Ladies and Gentlemen, please join me, on the count of three, in wishing good luck to the scions and our lone scioness.”

  “One!”

  “Two!”

  “Three!”

  “Good—”

  The rest is swallowed by the world of the shell and the scene that awaits me there.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  Invier

  My virt entry isn’t as tumultuous this time.

  “Set your timers for three hours,” James says and I notice today’s virt outfit includes a watch on my left wrist.

  We’re surrounded by browns and greens in a world exhaling with tweeting birds and small animals scurrying about the foliage. Faraway squawks and shrill squeaks fill the air as the creatures, hidden between the plants, warn of our arrival.

  Entwining branches create a swaying canopy high above. The leaves move to a tune only they hear as the sun and sky stay hidden away from view. I wipe off the remaining dew from a leaf. It all seems so real. Something whirs by nearby, but it’s too swift for me to catch a glimpse.

  “Okay,” Seth says, wiping his hands on his jumpsuit. “Does anyone know where this setting is based on? It could give us useful clues.”

  “My father said our last competition was set in a place called Calibishie,” Adela says. Her head swivels to take in our environment. “That’s on some tiny island his grandfather took him to as a child. As for this,” she spreads her hands, “I have no idea, but it looks like a thick jungle of some sort.”

  The others continue to study the trees and the plants around us. Ika’s features transform into something crooked when he steps into a small, muddy, leaf covered pool. His previously pristine white boots are a ruddy brown and his scowl deepens. Floating vegetation scatters around his legs, allowing him to wade through unhindered.

  “The rest of you can stay here and take in the sights, but I’m off.” Mehrdad flicks something off his shoulder. Whatever it is, refuses to go far, buzzing angrily around his head. He dodges several times to avoid the insect until finally, he goes still, his forehead creased. When he’s certain that the creature is heading straight for him, he slaps it out of the air. I’m not sure if it’s my imagination, but something smacks into a tree with a crunch.

  He sighs in satisfaction and stomps off into the trees.

  “Wait, you’re going to leave James and I?” Ika cries.

  Not slowing, Mehrdad replies in a detached tone, “The last time I worked with you guys, I wound up third. Plus, James is still weak from dying in the last competition.” He slaps a large leaf out of his way. “I’m going it alone this time.”

  Adela lets out a cold laugh. “What a friend you are.”

  “You don’t even have friends, Adela Seltan.” Mehrdad spins around, a rictus grin plastered on his face.

  “And I never pretended I did, but if I had friends I wouldn’t abandon them like you.”

  He stomps off and she yells, “And you’re going to get beat by a girl. Again.”

  The comment doesn’t sit well with him because he whirls around with slits for eyes. “You beat me by mere seconds.”

  A thick mist emerges from nowhere and clings to our feet, making the ground cover invisible. Unhindered, Adela moves slowly in Mehrdad’s direction, arms akimbo. “You wouldn’t have been that close if you didn’t follow me.” She freezes a few inches from him. “You should thank me.”

  Even the jungle’s inhabitants remain subdued as Mehrdad and Adela glare at one another.

  I expect a harshly delivered retort, but Mehrdad scratches his cheek and walks off without a word.

  The rest of us let out a collective sigh of relief.

  “Care to partner up?” James asks Ika and he nods, shoulders drooped. They walk off, and like Mehrdad, are soon swallowed by the colossal shadows hanging around us.

  “Floran!” Adela calls my last name as she marches back to where Seth, Erhart and I stand. “I’ll work with your team today.”

  When I requested she partner with us yesterday, she shut me down. Today, with Seth and I in the lead, she’s willing to work with us. I say as much to her and her reply is one solitary word, “So?”

  I shake my head at her transparency. “It’s your choice, partner,” I say to Seth.

  He shrugs in resignation. “It’s a new day Invier and something about this place makes me think we’ll need all the help we can get.”

  Something scampers behind me, sending my heart leaping to my throat. It’s gone before I see it. A flock of birds dart by overhead, their wings slapping the canopy as they fly away from the direction of the disturbing sound. Water sprinkles on us and I close my eyes against the droplets.

  “Good,” Adela says commandingly as if elected leader of our group. “What do we do with Vesta?”

  “Erhart stays with us if he wants,” I say. “What say you, Erhart?”

  He studies something behind me.

  “Erhart?” I repeat.

  He blinks several times as if struggling to wake from a dream. “Something’s coming,” he says.

  I pivot and back up towards him, my eyes searching for what he sees. “What is it? Do you see something?”

  “It’s what I don’t hear…” he replies in a low murmur.

  “What’s going on?” Adela walks over to us. She also peers through the twisted trees.

  “The animals,” he mutters, “where did they go? It’s too quiet.”

  The earlier sounds of nature – chirping, squawking and movement from small animals—are gone. Even the leaves no longer rustle overhead as they once did.

  That’s when I hear it. A slow but strengthening whine. Tall trees collapse to their sides and slam into the ground.

  “Did anyone else see that?” Erhart shrinks away from the approaching menace.

  Adela yanks out her small knife from the utility belt at her hip. She squats, holding the knife in her left hand, ready for whatever it is.

  Following her lead, I pull out my knife and Seth does the same.

  Still moving away, Erhart’s tone oscillates when he says, “What do you think those knives will do?”

  Facing him, I say, “Get your knife out Erhart, you’ll need to defend yourself.”

  “Defend myself from th
at?” He shrieks. “Did you not see those trees fall?” He stares ahead. “We can’t defend ourselves from something capable of doing that.”

  “Keep it together!”

  We sway as the shuddering intensifies. Something races towards us through the tightly-packed bushes. Slashing notes ring out into the air, heralding its advance.

  “Maybe we should get out of here?” Seth whispers to my left but holds firm, his knife held high.