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Insight Kindling

Page 2

by Chess Desalls


  Valcas smirked.

  “Wait, let me guess. You’ve been in front of the Commissioner?” I asked.

  “Yes,” he said. “Several times.”

  Well, that figured. “Did they punish you?”

  “Every single time.”

  “Were you always able to pay?”

  “Yes, but the last time I opted for a volunteer mission instead. To help a friend—”

  I felt Mom tense beside me.

  I frowned. “So finding my father was your punishment?”

  Valcas stared at his coffee.

  “Why didn’t you tell me all this when we met at the dock?” I asked. “Why did you keep it such a big secret? Look at me now. I’m going to be punished too.”

  I glanced over at Mom, who was now staring at Valcas, her fingertips pressed to her lips.

  “I told you not long after we first met,” he said. “I needed your help.”

  “You told me you needed to find a bride in a short period of time.”

  “Explain yourself, Valcas,” Mom said. “What are you planning?”

  I shuddered, remembering when I found Edgar and told him everything that had happened to me, everything that Valcas had done since I’d met him. As lost as Edgar had been, he still knew Valcas better than Mom and I did. “I’m sure he has greater plans,” Edgar had said. Greater plans. Something bigger than protecting me from some great being of chaos called an Uproar?

  The thudding of my heartbeat pounded in my ears. “You’re still looking for my father,” I said. “You think he’s still alive.”

  The three or four other people in the cafeteria stopped what they were doing. All eyes were on me.

  I stood up from the table to empty my tray. “That’s what you wanted all along, isn’t it? You wanted me to get into trouble too—to be punished, so I could help you find my father. You need my help for more than you’re willing to admit.”

  Mom placed her hand on my arm. “Why do you need Calla?” she asked. “I spent so much time, sacrificed so much, to keep her away from all this.” She gulped. “Can’t you handle this on your own?”

  My mouth dropped open as I stared wide-eyed at Mom. She’d been trying to protect me too?

  “She has a stronger bond with Plaka than I do. His blood flows through her veins. I need her—” Valcas turned to me. “I need you to help me. I had to know whether you would be capable of travel, hearty enough to join the search. I had to test you first.”

  I slammed the tray back down on the table and leaned forward. “This is all a game to you, isn’t it? What if I don’t want to play your game? Didn’t you figure that out when I escaped the first time? Every time?”

  Valcas didn’t bother trying to conceal the grin that slowly spread across his face. “Do you really think I let you escape? That you were so enticing? That I was always just one step behind?”

  “But your warning—you were shackled and bleeding!” I’d seen him through the travel glasses while staying at Edgar’s workshop in the woods. Valcas had communicated with me through the glasses. He’d told me that I wouldn’t be safe, even though he was the one bound in shackles. I’d assumed he’d lost his throne because he’d lost his bride. I was sure they’d punished him.

  Valcas shrugged. “All part of the plan.” He drained the rest of the coffee from his mug and placed it on my tray. “Represent yourself well at the hearing. If you manage to stay out of jail, I know of a volunteer mission you can join.”

  Mom’s eyes bugged out of her head as Valcas left the table.

  MOM SAT next to me in the Commissioner’s Hearing Chamber. She made a clicking sound with her tongue and exhaled through her nose. The front seating area for the offenders, the “accused,” grew fuller and stuffier by the minute. As she’d said, I wasn’t the only charged traveler waiting for the commissioner to arrive.

  Two rows in front of me sat another teen, a male, with sandy blond hair and dark blue eyes. I didn’t notice him at first. My eyes had been darting back and forth between the crowd of spectators occupying the mezzanine level behind us, and the door where the Commissioner would walk through to begin the hearings. But then a glint of ruby caught my eye, a red sparkle coming from the blond’s earring.

  There was something about the calm, cool way he scanned the room with his eyes: slowly, as if he were absorbing every detail. He winked when he caught me staring at him, and then he resumed with his scanning. He didn’t look nervous at all. I wondered what his infraction was.

  I sat there gawking until the door to the raised platform behind the Commissioner’s desk flew open, accompanied by the crackle of a speaker.

  “All rise for the Honorable Commissioner Reese, presiding. When your name is called, please approach the podium at the end of the hallway before His Honor. Bring with you whatever evidence is in your possession, including all writings, unofficial travel equipment—small objects only, please—and any witnesses in attendance.”

  After a shuffle of feet, everyone stood at attention. I met Mom’s eyes and peeked back over my shoulder toward the mezzanine. I still didn’t see Valcas up there with all the “innocent” people. Good. His presence would only make this worse.

  We remained standing until Commissioner Reese sat down on his cushioned desk chair. The light of an overhead lamp reflected off his round forehead, made shiny by either sweat or oil—I really couldn’t tell. Wisps of gray hair were combed straight to the side, forming a T with the sharp line of his narrow nose that abruptly ended in a black moustache. The Commissioner looked over his glasses at us as he spoke into a small microphone.

  “At ease,” he said. “Each of you knows why you have been called here today. Your hearings are meant for us to discern why you have done what you’ve done. After listening to your explanation and considering your evidence, I will decide how you will pay for your infraction.”

  I gave Mom a sideward glance. “He’s presuming that we’re all guilty?”

  “This isn’t the United States,” she whispered. “The TSTA is an Inter-world agency. Commissioner Reece knows that you’re guilty.” She sighed. “No one has ever stood before a TSTA commissioner by mistake.”

  Commissioner Reese sat back in his chair. He looked troubled, as if the task of punishing people for their wrongdoings was burdensome, as if they were wasting their time in his Hearing Chamber, or worse yet, wasting his time.

  The speaker crackled again. “Miss Ivory…”

  No one answered.

  I looked around the room. No one in the front seating area rose from a single chair. Where was Miss Ivory?

  “Miss Ivory…”

  The double doors in the back of the room creaked as they opened. A well-bronzed woman with short, tousled locks of pure white hair rolled her eyes as she strutted down the hallway.

  “It’s Ivory. Just Ivory,” she said. “My world has no use for last names. I know why I’m here. I’m here. Let’s do this.”

  Ivory appeared strong, lithe and fearless, from her stubborn jawline to her lean muscled limbs that swelled out of a black tank top and through camouflage black and green cargo pants. Despite her frosty white hair, her coppery skin was radiant and smooth. She couldn’t have been any older than someone in her mid-twenties.

  I got a better look at her anger-lined face as she approached the podium and crossed her arms. White lashes framed somber hematite eyes. She looked ready to devour the Commissioner whole.

  “As you know,” she said, “I am what the glorious TSTA calls a Chauffeur.” She bowed more to the crowd than to Commissioner Reese, who sat there, rigid. His dark eyebrows squeezed hard enough together to form a deep crease between his forehead and the bridge of his nose.

  “What does she mean by Chauffeur?” I asked Mom.

  “She’s a certified travel craft operator, a contractor, one of the TSTA’s very best.”

  “Oh.”

  Ivory tapped her fingernails across the podium in front of her, waiting for the Commissioner to say something. They were locke
d in a staring contest. I held my breath until the Commissioner looked away first.

  Evidently irritated that he’d lost the staring match, he began again, “Miss Ivory—”

  “Ivory.”

  He sighed. “Ivory. Thank you for the introduction. I’ve reviewed the infraction against you and I must say that I’m alarmed. Your record up until now has been perfect, remarkably spotless.”

  Ivory narrowed her eyes. “I am not proud to have this mark on my record. I broke your rule. I have no evidence. I changed the past, and now I’m here for my punishment.” She shrugged. “I’m sure everyone else here has better things to do.”

  Commissioner Reese nodded gravely. “But why did you do it?”

  Ivory stood there tight-lipped, silent.

  “Do you have any words in your defense?”

  She lifted her chin. “I do not.”

  “Very well, then. Your punishment will be a fine of three million dollars.”

  Muffled gasps from the mezzanine level reached down to the main floor. I squeezed the armrests of my chair. That was a lot of money.

  Unblinkingly, Ivory growled through gritted teeth. “I can’t pay your fine.”

  “Then you must serve by seeking the lost. You will receive your assignment before the end of the day. Service begins tomorrow morning.”

  Ivory nodded and spun around on her heels.

  “Oh, and Ivory,” the Commissioner said. “Whomever it is that you’re protecting is not off the hook. Contributory infractions will be penalized. It is only a matter of time before the report passes my desk.”

  Ivory squeezed her hands into fists and walked away, slamming the door to the Hearing Chamber.

  I WATCHED two more hearings before the speaker crackled and I heard the announcement I’d been dreading: “Miss Calidora Winston. Miss Winston, please step forward.”

  I felt nowhere near as brave as Ivory had looked. I was sure that wouldn’t work in my favor. To make things worse, the blond with the red earring caught my eye as I stumbled over Mom and walked up to the podium. I drew in a shaky breath and looked up at Commissioner Reese.

  “Hi, I’m Calla Winston. Traveling is pretty new to me, so I’m afraid I don’t know all the rules. I mean, I’m still learning, and I don’t feel that I’m responsible for two infractions.” I couldn’t believe how stupid the words sounded coming out of my mouth.

  The Commissioner raised his eyebrows. “Did you bring your evidence with you?”

  “Yes.” I pulled out the letter I’d written to Edgar and set it on the podium.

  “Did you write on that piece of paper and leave it in the past?”

  “Yes, sir, I did.”

  “Why did you do it?”

  My lips trembled, but not because I was frightened by the Commissioner or distracted by my own guilt. It was because of Edgar. “I was afraid that my friend would die. He was sick, dying, and it was the only way I could think of to make him give me the ingredients for his medicine—to save him.”

  The Commissioner frowned. “Miss Winston, do you believe that you are in charge of preventing death?”

  “No, sir, I don’t. I hadn’t thought of it that way. I just wanted to help.”

  A glint of compassion and understanding passed over Commissioner Reese’s face. “Did you know that you would be creating a daily reminder and leaving it in the past?”

  “Yes, sir.”

  Commissioner Reese sighed. “Is this all of the evidence that you brought with you today?”

  “I—well, I have the travel glasses and a second daily reminder, but I didn’t take the picture. A silhouette took it, actually—”

  “So then you know about silhouettes too?” Commissioner Reese frowned. “I am having trouble believing that you are ‘pretty new’ to traveling, Miss Winston.”

  “I had to learn a lot in a short period of time, sir.”

  My cheeks flushed as I pulled the photograph out of my pocket—the one Shirlyn took, and the past version of Valcas had written on after I’d left the White Tower. This was the photograph that led to fake engagement number two.

  I placed the photograph on the podium next to the letter to Edgar. “Do you want the glasses too?”

  “Thank you, but not yet. In fact, it may not be necessary at all.” Commissioner Reese stood up from behind his desk and walked toward me, cracking his knuckles along the way.

  I stood as stiff as a board while he lifted the photograph off the podium with thick fingers puffed with swollen knuckles. I winced. He must have cracked them a lot.

  “Where was this photograph taken?” he asked, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.

  “Outside the White Tower—the one that belongs to Sable and Jim Hall. But I didn’t write on it—”

  “That’s enough.” He squinted as he looked at the writing on the back of the photo. Then, to my horror, he read out loud what the past version of Valcas had written there:

  Flying with Calla Winston, the woman I will marry,

  she who dims the brightness of the four moons

  and the glow of the tower.

  Commissioner Reese met my eyes for a faction of a second and then looked up over my head. With my cheeks burning, I turned to follow his gaze—all the way up to the mezzanine level where concerned faces looked back at me, their eyes shifting between me and the Commissioner.

  The flash of a familiar grin caught my attention. I thought my cheeks would burn right off my face.

  “Valcas Hall,” said Commissioner Reese. His lips and eyebrows curved into deep frowns. “Welcome back to my hearing chamber. Did you appear here today as a witness to the charges against Miss Winston?”

  Valcas’ grin grew wider. “I brought her here for you, Commissioner, so that she could attend her hearing. This is the first time I’ve heard the specific charges. I have not prepared anything on behalf of myself, or on behalf of my past self with whom Calla has become so… deeply familiar.”

  I placed a hand over my mouth and turned around to stare at the top of the podium. I could feel Commissioner Reese’s eyes boring into my head, but I couldn’t look up. I couldn’t meet his eyes.

  “Valcas,” he said, placing the photograph back on the podium. “Get down here before the podium. Now.”

  I DIDN’T raise my eyes until after Commissioner Reese returned to his desk. By then, I’d already heard the creaking door open and close, and the arrogant tapping of footsteps that stopped once they reached the space next to me.

  I shifted my weight and waited, hoping Valcas wouldn’t get the chance to read the rest of what his past self had written on the back of the photograph, specifically the notes after the poem that Commissioner Reese hadn’t read aloud. Past Valcas’ observations of me.

  Commissioner Reese spoke first. “Valcas, what is going on here?”

  Despite my embarrassment, I smirked. I knew it wasn’t my entire fault, and I suspected the Commissioner knew that too.

  Valcas’ arm brushed mine as he reached for the photograph. He grazed his thumb along the edge of its glossy finish. “I had nothing to do with this photograph,” he said.

  “Is that so?” Commissioner Reese pointed toward Valcas’ head. “Take off your sunglasses while speaking in my presence at hearing.”

  Valcas flicked off his glasses and placed them on the podium. Those nearest us—the other accused—gasped and murmured.

  Commissioner Reese winced. He leaned forward for a better look and shook his head. “Do you expect me to believe that Miss Winston accidentally stumbled upon one of your unofficial travel objects and then mysteriously found herself at the White Tower, fawning all over you?”

  I glanced up at Valcas. The tiniest of smiles played across his lips. “If only it were that simple,” he said. “We could have saved a lot of time.”

  Commissioner Reese’s face turned a deep shade of purple.

  “You’re making this worse,” I whispered. “Either you tell him how you found me at the dock, or I will.”

&n
bsp; Still smiling, Valcas cleared his throat. “Think about your best friend, Commissioner. How would your best friend feel if you started making moves on his daughter?”

  A fire lit behind the Commissioner’s eyes. “Stop speaking in riddles, Valcas, and get to the facts. If you don’t, you will be penalized as well.”

  I cringed, although I wasn’t sure why. I already knew that I was going to be punished for something, but that didn’t make the Commissioner’s reminder sting any less.

  “I’ve run into some difficulties with my mission to find and bring back Basileios Plaka, Calla’s father,” Valcas said. “The Uproar that was after him is now after Calla. “

  Commissioner Reese’s face fell. His jowls jiggled as he shook his head. “Valcas, that mission ended years ago. Your sentence ended. Why are you still looking for Plaka?”

  Valcas turned to look at Mom, and then he glanced down at me. “I made a promise,” he said. “Several promises, actually. I promised Ms. Winston I’d find Plaka. I promised Plaka that I would protect his family. Once I learned that the Uproar was after Calla, I searched for her and helped her to escape from it.” He lifted the photograph off the podium and tore it in half. “I promised Calla that I would protect her too.”

  “That’s noble of you, Valcas, but now that you see what has happened—” Commissioner Reese squeezed his oily forehead with his hand. “Couldn’t you have found some way to keep your promises without getting young Miss Winston involved?”

  I couldn’t have agreed more with Commissioner Reese. Crossing my arms, I looked up at Valcas. He gave a decent explanation, but I couldn’t help but think that he was holding back something, that his half-truths disguised what he really wanted.

  Valcas placed the two photograph halves together, one on top of the other, and tore them in half again. “No, I couldn’t have. Calla is a traveler. Plaka’s blood runs through her veins. I needed her to help me with my mission.” He lowered his head. “I still need her.”

 

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