by Vaiya Books
The second to last case of the day was a clear example of that. A young noble, named Belam, had petitioned the king to give him enough money so he could purchase an expensive flute, which he would use to compose songs about the Sapphire Palace and its royal occupants.
Well-pleased with his request, and fully trusting his honesty, as elves were a very truthful race, the king had immediately given him the sufficient sum of money, his sons smiling approvingly at the young elf, as the princes were generally present for the last three cases of the day. However, even though the noble had every reason to leave happy, Azadar’s scowling face and glaring eyes cast a dark gloom about him, and he left with fear in his eyes. Why Azadar was so disapproving of the young elf was entirely out of his realm of thought. It made no sense whatsoever.
However, as troublesome as all this had been, things had only gotten far worse. His last case had made him by far the angriest and most puzzled.
When at first his royal messenger Hasan Seavale had informed him about a young human named Ian, who’d been captured by Azadar, he’d thought he’d understood the situation, so he’d ordered Hasan to take the human to the royal bathhouse to be given rich apparel, a charitable gesture for human strangers visiting his kingdom.
However, once he’d seen the human, who was clearly not from Verandur, and only slightly resembled a Sarithian, as his eyebrows were way thicker, his neck somewhat lengthier, and his chin much less pronounced, he at once grew bewildered. This man, who professed to have encountered the Elayans, was not at all the bold, courageous type that typified younger males from Sarith, the type who would tell lies simply to gain an audience with the king so as to avoid being imprisoned. Nor was he the characteristic spy for Tazik, a self-composed sycophant who flattered the king and his family, offhandedly requesting information about the Kingdom of Amalon, its military strength, and its resources.
Still, something about him didn’t feel right, and if the young man weren’t a spy, than why was he even here? Why did he look so suspicious?
Hoping to find the answers to these questions, he, Prince Taishan, and Princess Saeya had questioned Ian about his homeland, his agenda, and his plans. Yet, for all their inquiries, this human had only given them vague ideas about himself, while scattering out various lies throughout their conversations to keep them distracted--from what, he didn’t know, but he surely had a devious motive behind it, and it aggravated Kadeth that with all his wisdom he couldn’t even guess at what this human was plotting.
Just when he thought he understood the boy, then the human said something else entirely bizarre to completely throw him off the path, as when he claimed to have no knowledge of Chardins, a title that everyone in the world of Vaiya knew, even the dwarves of Tazik and the pirates of Verandur. Why he would feign ignorance of such a common term made as much sense as why the Sarithian ambassador was taking so long to arrive. All the king could discern from his words was that the human was purposely trying to confuse him at every turn of the ship. Why, he didn’t know, but it was definitely rather obvious that, for whatever clever reason, this human was pretending to look extremely uneducated, uncivilized, and foolish.
Ian’s imaginative mind didn’t help things any either. First, the human had claimed to have seen the Elayans and had even invented a historically accurate account of them--likely having sewn together pieces of information he’d gleaned from other traitorous elves and humans--while sprinkling in colorfully fabricated spells of his own creation. Then, he’d asserted that he’d come from a faraway country called the United States, which consisted of many states, one of them being Illinois, his supposed home place.
If Ian had not looked so normal, the king would have immediately called him a lunatic and ordered him out of his presence, but something about the man struck him as sane and even conniving. His best guess was that Odak had grown smarter and had deviated from the stereotypical spy by hiring a devious innocent-eyed human, one who went against all the conventional standards. However, it was also possible that Ian had come from Sarith just to stir up trouble in the capital city.
No matter his intentions, though, the human had definitely not come here to be of service to him, and as such, the king felt no sorrow for sending him to his likely death on the morrow.
Smiling, his shamrock green eyes growing strangely cheerful at this morbid thought, Kadeth drummed his fingers against the table. This human was of no concern to him. All would be taken care of in the morning.
Meditating on those thoughts, Kadeth barely heard the door open as a young woman stepped inside and greeted him cordially: “Blessings and strength, Your Majesty.”
Staring back at her, well pleased with the elven expression, though her accent was far from perfect, King Kadeth gazed upon the dark-skinned woman who wore a careful, sensible look on her face. Her garments, a lightweight green dress embroidered with palm trees, which reached to her kneecaps, a black pair of pants, and brown silken shoes, showed her high ranking and expensive taste.
He smiled. So this was the ambassador from Vernandur.
As the woman smiled back, respectfully bowing to him, and gave him her name, Kadeth got straight to the reason she was here. “So you’ve come to make an alliance with the elves, have you, Elyia?” he asked in a somewhat hostile tone, thinking it wise to begin with a stricter approach.
“Yes, Your Majesty,” she replied, her tone both humble and polite.
“And why?”
Still standing, she shifted her weight to her other leg, and looked slightly nervous as she cautiously phrased her reply. “There is a reason why Sarith’s ambassador has not arrived in your kingdom yet, Your Majesty.”
Kadeth’s eyes slowly widened. “What is it?” he asked, his tone emotionless, showing none of his curiosity. Personally, he could only think of a few reasons why the ambassador would be so late and none of them were pleasant.
“Sarith is amassing an army against you, Your Majesty.”
This was the worst possible news she could have delivered; even his darkest dreams never foretold this. “How do you know this is true?” he questioned.
“King Ralin has not kept his intentions secret, Your Majesty,” the ambassador replied. “He has sent word to his whole kingdom to prepare for this war, including the Southern and Northern Isles.”
“And how come my kingdom was never told of this development?” asked Kadeth, retaining all the calmness of an eagle in flight, though inwardly his heart was flaming with rage.
Elyia folded her hands politely and responded, “With all due respect, Your Majesty, I suppose it’s because you were so busy with your own affairs.”
This made the king even angrier, though he was not about to show it to this human ambassador. How could Sarith have the audacity to start a war with him under the guise of starting an alliance? It was beyond wicked and called for retribution of the most severe sort.
And how hadn’t he heard of Sarith’s blatant intentions? His kingdom was never known for espionage, but this was even two steps backwards. No, this could never happen again. As much as he despised giving Azadar more power, he now had no choice but to give him full permission to start his own league of spies.
As Elyia began to show glimmers of impatience over his slow response, the king directed his thoughts to bringing back his race’s dignity in her eyes, something that he’d never thought he’d have to do. With little effort, he soon found the right question: “Do you know anything about a human named Ian Hansen who came into our kingdom today, Elyia?”
“No, Your Majesty.” Her face showed both doubt and intrigue, as she likely pondered over the strange name that had caused him so much irritation today, a name that was likely an alias. “Who is he?”
Kadeth stared at her confidently, relishing in her confusion, as he showed her his kingdom’s competence to uncover spies. “He’s a Sarithian spy for Odak Valduum.” He’d come to this conclusion right when he’d first seen the young man, and these thoughts had only grown stronger now. This le
d him into his next question: “Are you aware of any alliance between Sarith and Tazik?”
Her eyebrows lowered slightly. “Currently, it’s nothing more than a weapon’s agreement,” she replied, her tone mildly positive. “Though it might have progressed further since our spies were there a week ago.”
This was enlightening if not entirely frustrating. Azadar had long ago warned him about dark dealings between Tazik and Sarith but he’d never given it much thought, thinking his words the rantings of a human-hater. Now though, he wished he’d considered them.
Brushing away a few strands of his long russet-brown hair that had nearly gotten into his eyelashes, he fixed his eyes on the Verandel ambassador, musing over the situation. She wanted to make an alliance with his nation, a feat that no human had ever boasted of accomplishing before.
Even though the ambassador for Sarith had previously sought to form an alliance with him, to help his nation in spying out the dwarves’ covert plans while readying themselves to war against Tazik if it came to that, the king had been fully intent on rejecting the alliance and refusing his help.
However, this desperate situation called for unprecedented actions, and he was willing to sacrifice some pride for the sake of a trusted ally, an ally who seemed to know all about Sarith’s inner movements and strategies. To refuse her help would be foolish and insensible. No matter that the alliance would make elven history and would likely infuriate his four governors, his many judges, and his supremacist subjects; it would, nonetheless, be done.
Now in full agreement with his decision, he turned to Elyia, who, in spite of his long delay, still had a gentle composed look in her eyes. “Consider the alliance formed, Elyia Jerasim.”
Her face remained nearly the same upon hearing the news, except for a faint look of relief in her soft blue eyes at having accomplished the mission given her by her ruler, Queen Islah of Verandur. The desert queen was sure to be pleased with her when she returned. “It is as you wish, Your Majesty. May your kingdom be graced with dignity and light.”
At her words, his face grew surprisingly cheerful, a fact he wasn’t ashamed to show. Now, he would get his revenge on Sarith, and, with the naval power of Verandur on his side, could even force the dwarves back to their caves. And as for this human, who’d caused him so much grief today, he’d be dealt with swiftly as well. When Master Thargon was through with the boy in the morning, he’d be a mere whisper in the wind.
Chapter 9
Noticing Darien and Spencer Gordon’s bowling scores, Eddy grinned. Darien was ahead by thirty points and he’d likely win as he had a knack for the game, and, unlike many people who either grew lazy or played sloppy when they were winning, performed his best when ahead.
Nothing against Spencer, he just thought Darien needed the encouragement from winning. Darien had been a little dispirited lately, likely because of the football game this Friday, though it could be something deeper, for he’d never seen him so worked up over sports before.
Whatever the case, as Darien made his second strike in a row, Eddy smiled as he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone to check the time. His smile quickly faded, though, as he flipped open his phone and stared at the screen. He’d missed a call from Ian.
Even though normally this would be weird, as Ian thoroughly despised talking on phones and only did so as a last resort, since they were both at the same party this was downright bizarre.
Glancing briefly at the time, Eddy called him back, but only got loud static. Hanging up and trying again, he got the same result. Typical. Ian’s phone always seemed to have something wrong with it. Still, the scratchy static in the background was something new. It just proved his point even more. His friend needed a new phone.
Frustrated, Eddy gave up and headed over to a large wooden table near the staircase to get some food. After stacking a paper plate with pretzels, several red apple slices, a handful of gumdrops, and three of Hazel’s mom’s famous triple chocolate cookies, Eddy poured himself a glass of red punch and then chatted with a couple of girls he’d never talked to much before--Alena Benton, a blonde-headed cheerleader who, when she wasn’t exercising, doing anything from stretching to sit-ups to push-ups to workouts he’d never even heard of, was playing violin or working out a new diet plan, and Dana Marlow, a somewhat reserved girl with braided brunette hair who frequently griped about the quirks of her family members and how they forced her to do so many meaningless chores.
After they’d exchanged cell phone numbers, he parted from them and sat down next to Tianna around a dark maple wood table overlaid with a black tablecloth and decorated with orange napkins imprinted with ghosts.
Popping a cherry gumdrop into his mouth, he saw Tianna blush as if he’d violated a social norm, Hazel and Amanda, across from them, exchanging surprised glances with each other before resuming their conversation.
“What’s wrong, Tianna, are the red ones only for girls?” he asked grinning, after swallowing the gumdrop.
Tianna just stared at him awkwardly as if not understanding his question, before leaning over and secretly whispering into his ear, “Eddy, you do realize this is the girl’s table, don’t you?”
He laughed, not a bit intimidated by her nervous tone. “Yeah, so?”
A flicker of annoyance swept over her face. “Why aren’t you with your guy friends? Wouldn’t you rather hang out with them?”
He just smiled, her anxiety affecting him less than a feather brushing against a basketball as he responded sarcastically, “Yeah, of course, but they’re currently unavailable at the moment.”
“Why’s that?” she asked pointedly, not seeming to enjoy his sense of humor.
He just smirked. “Cuz Darien’s currently bowling, Jason’s still playing ping pong, and Ian’s …” here he let out a soft laugh. “The kid could be anywhere by now.”
Thinking over his friend’s disappearance with mixed emotions of humor and slight concern, Eddy casually took a bite out of the chewy moist cookie, enjoying the milk chocolate chips, fudge swirls, and small brownie pieces melted into it.
As for Tianna, she took a small sip from her glass of red punch and just watched him in disbelief, while Amanda laughed at Eddy and then refocused, rambling excitedly to Hazel about the latest Disney movie she’d seen.
But Eddy, paying them little attention, mouth now stuffed with pretzels, reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. Calling Ian again, he was once more met with no response--just heavy static.
“Having trouble calling someone?” asked Tianna uneasily, as she gave him a weird look. Setting her hands gently on the table and nervously swinging her feet back and forth, she accidentally kicked Amanda, who suspended her rather one-sided dialogue with Hazel to glare playfully at her.
“Yeah. I keep trying to call Ian but all I get is static. It’s like he’s in another world or something.”
Worry swept over her like an eagle swooping on its prey, her face hinting at a darker meaning to his words than he’d intended. Staring at him coldly, she just shook her head. “I told you we should’ve looked for him.”
A grin flickered across his face. He found himself deeply amused that she was so concerned for him; she acted as if she were Ian’s mom. Yet, despite the humor in the situation, Eddy also found himself becoming slightly irritated that she continued to bring up the same topic repeatedly. There had to be some way to get her to change her tune.
“Ah, quit worrying, Tianna. He couldn’t have gone far--I drove,” he said, smiling. “Unless he’s become a car thief, I’d say he’s still here.”
As Tianna considered his response with a disgusted frown, Hazel put up her hand gently to stop another one of Amanda’s rants, and gazed at Eddy with a puzzled look. “So why’s he trying to call you anyway?”
He turned her way, curious that she knew what was going on as Amanda had been chatting with her the entire time. Perhaps she had only pretended to be listening. “Well, I’m guessing he’s still upset about losing
the ping pong tournament,” he said, leaning back on the velvet-padded chair while taking a swig of the scarlet punch, the flavors of apple, cranberry, orange, and ginger ale swirling in his mouth.
Hazel eyed him skeptically. “So he wants to rant about how he lost to Darien?”
“Probably,” Eddy replied indifferently, badly wanting to end this conversation so he could talk about something more exciting. “Or maybe he wants to brag about how much weight he’s lifting in the gym. I don’t know.”
Hazel lowered her eyebrows, clearly annoyed. “You’re changing your story, man.”
“Yeah, I know, but Ian’s unpredictable.” He thought back to their argument earlier that day about Alan. Although Ian and he shared many of the same interests, had somewhat similar temperaments, and both enjoyed many of the same sports, sometimes his friend made no sense.
Looking at Hazel, he hoped she’d accept his words now and move on. However, after gauging her dazed facial expression, which he still couldn’t quite interpret, he saw she was still completely unsatisfied with his words. Maybe Hazel really did like his friend?
Though this possibility was amusing, the conversation was really starting to get old. That none of the girls seemed intent on starting a new one only aggravated him further.
“What, Hazel?” he finally asked, upset, as he folded his arms across his chest.
But Hazel just gave her a distant stare, her tone seething with disgust. “So you honestly think he’s skipping the party just to exercise? Can’t he do that anytime?”
“Well, yeah,” he murmured. “Maybe he’s in the bathroom then--I don’t know.”
“For forty-five minutes? I doubt it.”
Frustrated, and noticing he was digging himself into a deeper hole, he pushed his plate to the side, while setting his hands firmly on his knees. Now more than ever, he was convinced that Hazel was attracted to Ian. Why else would she keep such close tabs on him? “Ok, ok, I honestly don’t know where he’s at ... but if he wants to be by himself, we should leave him that way.”