Compression into the Solance pulp was the only way in which a soul could die. Amana heard Orono telling MaxMion how the Solance was made. He said that it was very similar to eating fruit. The flesh was the same as the outside of an orange, with the soul being the meaty inside of the fruit. Valek had devised a way to peel the flesh away, take the fruit’s meaty inside and compress it into a juice. That juice was Solance.
Amana was not sure exactly what Solance was, but she knew it cost a great deal of coins. The mining the soul did was not as profitable to Valek. MaxMion had asked Orono why Valek kept the souls working the mines.
Orono did not know.
“Hurry, Katelin,” Amana whispered as she quickly floated to the mines.
“Coming,” Katelin called as she hurried behind Amana.
“We must hurry. Rule number one, don’t make MaxMion angry.” Amana advised the new arrival.
“I sure hope I don’t.” Katelin grinned. They passed laboring souls who, in silence, worked steadily, pounding the rocky caverns and placing chunks of rock into carts again and again.
Amana reached her spot and picked up her tool. She gestured to the new girl to follow her. Katelin picked up a tool and following Amana’s example, worked laboriously in the blackness. No sweat, no fatigue, Amana and Katelin worked for hours along with the hundreds of slave souls.
“I hate this. How can you endure it?” Katelin asked as she dropped her tool to the ground with a clank.
“I do not know,” Amana said as she continued smashing her tool into the hardened rock. “I think of my sister, Sarah, and feel hopeful that I, too, will be free.”
“You have a sister?” Katelin inquired.
Amana glanced around before lowering her voice and saying, “Yes, she escaped.”
“What!” Katelin’s mouth dropped. “Really?”
“Shhh!” Amana said. “Well, actually, we had escaped together, but I was recaptured.”
“No.” Katelin shook her head in disbelief. “Really?”
“She escaped to another planet.”
“That really happened,” Katelin asked, “to your sister?”
“I believe so, yes.”
Amana’s memory of that night was fuzzy. “There may have been someone else there to help her escape.”
“Who rescued her?” Katelin asked.
“I know not.” Amana shook her head and continued chipping away at the rock. “I had been recaptured by the time she escaped.”
* * *
Zykeiah awoke several rotations later and was led to the Great Hall by the Ushers. Queen Zoë, dressed in a white robe bearing the Minister Knights symbol, sat on her throne. On either side of her stood Marion and Kalah, dressed in matching white robes identical to hers.
Iris carried a sword; it was almost as big as she. She held it by its silver handle. She gave it to the Queen; her slender shoulders shook under its weight.
Taking the silver handle in her thin fragile hands, Queen Zoë opened a tiny vile of clear ota oil and poured it over the handle.
“This sword will guide you through your new life. A life that will be devoted to returning other people to theirs.”
Zykeiah knelt before Queen Zoë; Sarah held her breath as she watched, amazed at the seriousness and splendor of it. The Great Hall, although filled with people, was quiet like a tomb.
“Will you give your soul for the souls of others?” Queen Zoë asked.
“Yes,” Zykeiah answered around the hard lump in her throat. The Great Hall was packed and filled with people, mostly servants. All eyes were on her and she felt the weight of their expectations.
Queen Zoë lifted the heavy sword with trembling arms and tapped Zykeiah’s shoulder once on the left and then once on the right.
“In the name of God, of Antiqk and the Lost Souls, I dub thee, knight. Be brave, ready and loyal.” She quickly lowered the sword and then said, “Rise Zykeiah and take your place amongst the Minister Knights of Souls.”
Zykeiah rose and took the sword from Queen Zoë. As Zykeiah placed her hand on the sword, the Great Hall erupted with outcries of joy and congratulations. She lifted the sword high into the air and cheered.
Marion was the first to embrace her with hugs and congratulations. While in his arms, Zykeiah searched for the one face she wanted to see. When her eyes landed on Sarah in the far back corner of the Hall, she smiled despite the loathe that seeped into her heart.
Their eyes met and Sarah quickly turned away.
“Welcome!” Marion bellowed as he continued to keep her in a tight hug.
Kalah rushed over and whipped Zykeiah from Marion’s arms into his. “Congratulations!”
“Tomorrow, you must be ready for the branding!” Marion teased as he stepped back from Zykeiah for others to come and welcome the new knight.
“Yes,” Zykeiah tossed back at Marion as she shook hands with various servants and received many kisses on the cheek from enthusiastic children. Kalah moved away and laughed at the scene.
“Come, Sarah! Greet our latest addition,” Marion called to Sarah who had stayed a safe distance back from the crowd of people who meshed around Zykeiah.
Slowly, she hesitantly crept over to Zykeiah as some of the crowd dispersed to guzzle ale and to celebrate with dance. A trio of musicians had set up in the corner next to the hearth and had begun to play a lively tune.
As Sarah came closer to Zykeiah, Zykeiah gasped at the sight of her, for Sarah’s hair, free from its confining braid was loose and flowing, each ringlet perfectly curled and springy. Sarah was simply radiant. How can she look that good? Zykeiah thought bitterly.
Sarah extended her hand to Zykeiah to congratulate the new knight. Zykeiah grabbed Sarah’s hand and pulled her close to her, then kissed Sarah hard on the mouth, while at the same moment locking her arms around Sarah in a hug. The kiss grew whistles, stares and outright cheers from some of the spectators in the Great Hall. Zykeiah wanted everyone to see how much she liked the new arrival.
Sarah’s eyes grew large in embarrassment. She struggled to pull free from Zykeiah’s iron clad embrace.
Marion felt a soft punch into his stomach as a sick feeling raced up his neck. He could not believe his own eyes; Zykeiah had just kissed Sarah and from where he stood, Sarah liked it.
It was customary for a new knight to choose a woman to hold his heart. Kalah, forever greedy, chose two, Tate and Mary. He had chosen Zykeiah.
And now, Zykeiah had chosen Sarah.
Chapter Nine
“Another Sir?” the wrinkled servant wench asked again.
“Yes,” Marion slurred and rocked unsteadily on the bench, spilling some of his new ale onto the floor.
The Great Hall, now empty of boisterous laughs, congratulations, and celebration, waited as Marion continued to indulge his own private party.
He lifted the mug of ale to his lips and with one toss of his thick wrist; he guzzled the ale and slammed the empty mug to the table, drained.
His throat burned, his stomach churned, and his heart ached. An educated man, Marion had treated his own injuries since he was ten and even now the only thing he knew to numb heartache was to drown it. The side effects be damned.
The servant wench had been around since his youth and he knew her well. She would keep his blackened mood a secret from the others. As the oldest and unofficial leader of the Minister Knights of Souls, Marion couldn’t show weakness. Weakness was not an emotion that should be shared or discussed. Marion knew all too well Kalah would enjoy it too much; so hungry was Kalah to replace him.
His younger brother both loved and despised him. It was no secret. Placing yet another watery mug of ale directly in front of him, the servant wench smiled beneath her aged skin and gooey eyes.
“Thank you, Chloe,” Marion muttered.
“I am retiring for tonight,” the servant wench announced without waiting for Marion’s approval. She turned and headed back into the kitchen. “You should do the same, Sir.”
Marion grunted and drained the mu
g of its contents yet again. Glancing around, he realized that finally he was alone. Even the kitchen servants and cooks had fled for the comforts of their beds and homes.
Marion staggered toward the Great Hall’s entranceway where he slipped and fell. Just as he tried to reorient himself, he noticed that he was being watched.
Kalah leaned against one of the Great Hall’s support columns and eyed his brother carefully.
“What do you want?” Marion tried to speak clearly but failed as he slurred the last part of the question.
“Drowning in ale again, brother?” Kalah asked as he walked further into the Great Hall.
He stopped as Marion jerkily stood up, using one of the tables as a stabilizer. “Tread lightly here, Kalah.”
“Or what?” Kalah asked as he came closer and punched Marion in the stomach, knocking the breath out of him.
Marion collapsed to the floor and vomited shortly thereafter the countless mugs of ale.
Kalah applied a swift, hard kick into Marion’s ribs, knocking him onto his back. He whispered angrily, “I think, Brother, your time has faded.”
Marion rolled onto his stomach in agony. Kalah placed his palm under Marion’s chin, pushed up and applied pressure causing Marion’s head to be pulled backwards as if his neck was going to snap. “Leave this place, Marion, or name me leader…”
“Kalah, what are you doing?” Sarah inquired from the Great Hall’s entranceway. The two knights were only three feet away from the Great Hall’s entrance.
Quickly, Kalah leaned down to Marion and said, “My brother has had too much celebration tonight. I will help him to his quarters.”
Unsure, Sarah crept into the Great Hall and swiftly smelled the strong, sour mixture of bile and alcohol.
“Whew!” She held her nose as she stepped over Marion. She studied his eyes that were partially closed and the blood that trickled from his mouth.
“He will be fine,” Kalah coldly said as he lifted Marion to his feet. “Right, brother?”
“But he looks ill. Perhaps the Queen should treat him or at least see him.” She suggested as she grabbed his hand. She pulled him closer to her away from Kalah.
“Leave me, Kalah,” Marion grunted through clenched and bloodied teeth. “We will finish this later.”
Kalah released him, causing Marion to almost slip back to the floor. He held tight to the table. Holding his ribs with his other hand, Marion wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. He watched Kalah stroll from the Great Hall.
“Do you need help getting back to your room?” Sarah asked as she inched closer to him. He seemed so small to her now. She recalled how at the Allerton Circle he seemed larger than life…a god almost. But now, he looked defeated.
He could smell the rosemary in her hair and feel the warmth of her body on his naked chest. He remembered how she looked when Zykeiah kissed her and it made him grimace.
“Does it hurt?” Sarah asked mistaking his grimace for pain.
“No, no, I am fine.” Marion stepped away from the table and limped toward the entranceway, slow and deliberate.
“Are you sure?” Sarah asked again as she held his elbow, her soft fingers on his flesh.
“Yes,” Marion answered stiffly.
Sarah glanced around the abandoned hall and said, “I saw Kalah strike you. I could see it from the hallway.”
“Sibling disagreement,” Marion said. “Nothing more.”
“But he hurt you and had I not been here…” Sarah started.
“Nothing more!” Marion barked. “What were you doing watching us? Do you not need your beauty rest or something?”
Marion saw Sarah hesitate. Would she tell him that she came to see him? And when she found him not in his quarters at such a late hour that she was worried? Let this be her response, Marion secretly prayed.
Instead she said, “I, I came to see if I could get some warm milk.” She pulled away from him. With her hand removed from his elbow, Marion felt as if a cool wind had blown in from the north, leaving him alone and cold.
“There is a kitchen in the East Wing,” Marion responded as he limped along the hallway to his quarters.
Sarah smiled and then quickly dropped it.
“You do not have to tell me why, I know why you were in this part of the castle.” Marion gripped his ribs again as he took an intake of air and he thought about Zykeiah and Sarah nestled in Zykeiah’s quaint and cozy quarters surrounded by a warm fire, bottles of wine and probably the scent of floral logs.
“Do not flatter yourself,” Sarah quipped, once again mistaking his meaning, before hurrying down the hallway towards her quarters. “Good night!”
* * *
Marion limped into his room and promptly collapsed onto his bed. He closed his eyes and tried to make the spinning in his head stop. The searing pain in his side made deep breathing difficult and it made taking sips of air equally painful.
But it was Sarah’s last comment that caused the most pain.
Where, he asked himself as he disrobed, did he begin to admire her so? Why did it matter if she found favor with Zykeiah or Kalah?
Groaning, he leaned across his bed and put the sword amongst the many others. His boots plopped to the floor; first one than the other, followed by his pants.
She had only been here three cycles and already he had ruined any chance he might have had to be in her heart.
Or had he?
Zykeiah, too, must have been taken with Sarah, for she pounced on Sarah the very moment she laid eyes on her. He nodded to no one in particular as he mentally noted Zykeiah’s offer last night of taking her riding to Stocklah. She failed to tell Sarah that he was the one who first took her there. How would Sarah feel if his past relationship with Zykeiah was known?
He couldn’t blame Zykeiah for her interest in Sarah. He rolled onto his back and rubbed his tired and bruised face. His chilly room needed a fire, and he was too distracted to cover himself with any blankets. Inside, the pain still burned.
* * *
The tapping of Sarah’s foot echoed as her anger escalated. Just who did Marion think he was? A prince? Some fantastic gift from the gods to women? Why was it so hard to say that she had saved him from being beaten to death? Did he think so little of her?
She roughly removed her sweater and threw it across the room, where it landed somewhere beside the chair. With the same jerky motion, she pulled her gown over her head and placed her arms through the sleeves. She quickly removed her boots and pants before the chilly night air could affect her. This night was unusually warmer despite the cool temperature of her room. Nevertheless, she piled on two additional blankets and crawled under the covers.
Then almost without thinking, she lifted one of her hands and directed it at the fireplace. The flames burned more intense at her direction. She had simply focused on the fire burning brighter and pointed. The fire willingly obeyed.
She searched her hands for any changes. Two purple markings now burned bright red and stung. The older markings from the morning had not faded. She had learned she had powers, but how strong? What else could she do?
What did it all mean?
* * *
“Yes, Richard, Solance will cost you 350 in silver coins.” Valek smiled at the tella that loomed on his desk. The tella gave a watery image of Richard Agate, the ruler of Earth 4016. With his shrunken head and enormous nose, he bore a strong resemblance to a mouse.
“That is a lot to ask from a small, unfortunate kingdom like Earth 4016,” Richard squeaked through the tella.
“Now, Richard, the reason it is such a small, unfortunate kingdom is because of Mars 2012. With Solance, you could change all the damage and pain they caused you. You could take back your family chest, your treasures and… your daughter.”
Valek watched Richard hesitate. Richard rubbed his hands nervously together then looked about for his advisors. One appeared at his side and whispered eagerly in his ear.
“Richard, my time is quite precious…” Va
lek hissed.
“Yes, yes, Valek. I understand,” Richard said and waved a hand at Valek nonchalantly, as if he did not understand.
If he were not attempting to expand Solance’s market, Valek would have terminated the transmission and the deal. But he was asking a lot more than he received from either of the other planets combined.
“Consider it an investment,” Valek offered as he continued to watch Richard’s advisors cluster around him and flood Richard with answers and possible motives.
“And you are sure it will allow us to read minds?” Richard asked meekly above the head of an older advisor with big floppy ears.
“Yes,” Valek answered for the third time. His patience was limited and Richard was eroding it.
“How do you know it works?” Richard inquired again.
He obviously was not a fool, Valek thought. Either that or he had good advisors. If he answered that he knew for a fact it worked, Richard would ask how he knew it. He didn’t want to tell Richard he sold Solance to others. It would ruin the illusion that Richard was his sole client.
If Valek answered no, then Richard would demand the price be lowered or he might reject the deal all together. Too much silver was on the line to jeopardize for the sake of information. He would need to be watchful of Richard’s advisors in the future.
“I know that it works because I have tested it,” Valek answered coyly. His answer sent Richard’s advisors into a frenzy of heated whispers.
Valek leaned forward in his chair and cooed, “Richard, I would not be offering this to you—believe me there are armies out there, and other kingdoms that would pay twice the amount that I am offering to you—but I believe in Earth 4016’s cause and I feel terrible about the abduction of your daughter.”
Some advisors were shaking their heads no, but Valek saw right through to Richard’s heart. Advisors, no matter how good, were only advisors.
Richard was still king.
“Do we have a deal?” Valek leaned back in his chair.
Richard nervously looked around before saying, “Yes.”
“Excellent.” Valek smiled and said, “The details can be worked out later.”
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