by J. Naomi Ay
“You’re not my maid, Carolie.”
Sara smiled into the mirror. She always said this whenever I offered to help her out. Then, she would hand me the hairbrush, or turn around so I could zip her dress, or hold out her tiny foot so I could slip her shoe on it.
She preferred if I polished her nails, or did her makeup because I wouldn’t make mistakes. Of course, she would have done a terrible job on her right side if she tried to use her left hand, and somehow, unless I brushed it on for her, her mascara would always smear.
“I know that, Sara,” I replied, trying to keep the bitterness out of my voice. “I’m helping you because we’re sisters. After I’m done, you can brush my hair if you want, or give me a manicure with the new gold polish.”
“Oh, that’ll be fun!” Sara exclaimed. “But, I think I’m busy. I promised Leon I’d let him show me his new football. Mygan and Lura want to teach me some cheers. They think I ought to be on the cheerleading squad too.”
“Sure,” I replied, setting down the brush, and heading toward the window to look out at the snow. “It looks like a great day to be doing both of those things. Was he going to show you his football out on the field, or behind the bleachers underneath a blanket?”
“Now, Carolie,” Sara pretended to scold me, “You know I’d never do anything like that. My dad would positively kill me if he found out. So you won’t tell him, will you?”
“What’s to tell?”
“You’re the best, Carolie.” She blew me a kiss. “I promise to do your nails when I get back, unless somebody like Arsan comes to visit.”
“Sure,” I said again, and settled into the window box with my tablet.
She could have Arsan. What did I care? He was just a dumb Karut boy. I didn’t believe any of that crap about how he came to protect us, or that the Emperor had sent him. Everyone knew the Emperor was long dead.
Still, he was awfully handsome, and when he smiled at me, I thought my heart would turn into butter and melt.
On the other hand, chances were nobody was going anywhere today. The wind was howling, and the snow was falling fast and furiously. Already, the campus walkways were impassable. I didn’t tell Sara this though. I figured she’d find out as soon as she tried to go outside. She’d quickly end up back here, forced to read a book or watch movies on the vid. Unless, she brought that gaggle of popular girls with her. That would drive me fricking insane.
“Well, I’m going now.” Sara blew me another kiss. She smiled with her perfect teeth, and tossed her hair. “You don’t want to come with me, do you?” she asked. It sounded like an afterthought, a polite gesture on the part of the benevolent princess.
“No, thanks, sis,” I replied, smiling toothily back. “I’ve got homework and reading to catch up on.”
“You’re so studious, Carolie,” she said with a sigh. “Your awesome grades make the rest of us look bad.”
“I doubt that,” I mumbled as the door closed.
A moment later, I could hear Sara’s four-inch heels tapping down the dormitory’s hallway. I knew it was mean, but I couldn’t help but snicker as I envisioned her out in the snow. She’d be back shortly, unless she was more of a bubblehead than she acted. In the meantime, I’d take advantage of her absence.
I snuggled down on the window box pillows, and opened my tablet screen to a book, briefly considering how much better I liked fictional people.
Fortunately, I wasn’t the princess. I’d have no patience for this empire of fools. I’d order everyone beheaded just for acting dumb. I’d probably be left with a queendom of nobody except for maybe, my brother, Rory. Yes, I’d allow him to stay. He was okay, even if he was usually a jerk.
Involuntarily, another thought popped into my head. I’d let Arsan stay too, if he wanted.
“Carolie!” I scolded. “Get a grip on yourself. Get real!”
Arsan, had obviously been interested in Sara.
Turning my attention back to the book, some novel about some guy who was a wizard, or something, I forced myself to concentrate on the words. The guy was a fool though, and his love interest was a bitch. In fact, I was about to delete the book from my tablet when a knock sounded on the door.
Figuring it was just Sara, who had once again forgotten the door code, or purposely was expecting me to open it for her, I pretended I hadn’t heard it. Instead, I read a few more paragraphs. The wizard guy was learning how to wave a stick and cast spells. His girlfriend was better at it, which frankly, didn’t surprise me, but she’d probably start acting like a bubbleheaded fool before the end.
The knocking became more insistent.
“OMG, Sara, give me a break,” I mumbled, and taking my sweet time, I lumbered across the room, and opened the door.
“Your Royal Highness.”
I dipped into a curtsey. Sara always got a kick out of that. She’d wave her hand and threaten to make me kiss it. And, then, she’d insist I not do it again.
“You don’t need to do that for me,” Arsan said, shocking me completely out of my wits, and embarrassing me to death at the same time.
“I thought you were Sara,” I declared, my face turning twelve shades of red, and my toes and ankles spinning inward, preventing me from standing up.
“Really? I don’t think I resemble Sara very much at all.”
He stepped past me into the room and glanced around. His pale, color-less eyes took in everything, which wasn’t much. We had a couple of dorm beds, a bureau, a desk, chair and closet. Even though this was the most expensive private school on the planet, we lived like convicts.
Arsan took off his gloves and hat, stuffing them into his coat pocket, and shaking out his curls. For a moment, I stared transfixed as the light slithered across his hair, my fingers itching to reach out and touch it.
“The Princess is not here?” he asked. “Do you know where she has gone?”
“She outside making snow angels,” I replied, forcing my eyes away from his hair. I indicated the door just in case he planned to go back out. “You might have passed her on the way, although Leon was probably more visible than she.”
“Snow angels?” His brow furrowed. His mouth turned down.
Waving my arms up and down, I mimicked how one might make an angel in the snow. Arsan shook his head slightly. Apparently, he had always lived in a warm climate.
“Forget it,” I said. “She ought to be back soon.”
He nodded, and glanced around the room once again, as if in his first pass, he missed something that might have been important.
“You had better put on your traveling clothes. Dress for the weather.”
“Why? Where are we going?”
“We need to leave, and as quickly as possible. Do you think you can summon Sara? Will you ring her, please?”
“Sorry, but nobody summons the Imperial Princess. That’s her job. My job is to respond.”
“Right!” He smiled, showing off all of his incredibly white teeth. “I forgot. She’s not just your step-sister.”
“Nope. She’s the highest ranking person in this entire empire after my step-dad Steve, and his brother, Rent. Kind of makes you think that we all might be better off if the Empire just imploded for good.”
“That’s not true,” Arsan replied. “The Imperial Princes are respectable men. Unfortunately, they are facing extraordinary circumstances beyond their control. When the Emperor returns, he shall set everything right.”
“Ha,” I snorted. “That’d be true, except he’s dead.”
Arsan stared at me, his weird eyes so focused, it was almost as if he could see right through me to my innermost thoughts. Either that, or he had x-ray vision and was looking at my underwear. I felt my face heat up again, so I went to grab my coat.
“How long are we going to be gone?” I asked.
“I can’t say right now, but it may be awhile.”
“Where are we going?”
“I can’t say that either. You must trust me.”
I was about t
o object, to tell him that neither Sara nor I would willy-nilly run off with him just because supposedly, the dead Emperor told him to take us somewhere. However, I was interrupted by the door opening to let Sara and her fan club in. They were laughing hysterically, chortling about some guys, and were completely soaked from head to toe by the snow.
"What's shaking, Carolie?" Sara asked, her eyes drawing wide as she recognized Arsan standing by the window. "I see you have been busy studying while I've been out."
Arsan dropped to his knee in a courtly bow, causing the hens in Sara's gaggle to start tittering.
"My Lady," he declared, using the Noble Mishnese. "I bid you ready yourself for traveling forthwith."
"Huh?" Sara giggled, which prompted the gaggle to giggle again.
"We need to leave," I replied. "Right now."
"Why?" Sara blinked rapidly, a smile frozen on her perfect face. "Why don't we just stay here where it's nice and warm? Would you like some cocoa, Arsan?"
The gaggle made mewing noises, apparently having recognized that Arsan was now in favor.
"Your Highness, we need to go," Arsan said, leaving no uncertainty in his voice.
Even though a few minutes ago, I was ready to argue, now I stood with him.
"Sara, just do as he says,” I said. “Change your clothes for something dry. The rest of you, she'll see you later, or not." I hustled them out the door, although some of the girls made an attempt to protest.
"Carolie!" Sara stamped her foot. "That's not nice."
"Sara!" I stamped my foot too. "Your grandfather, the Emperor wants us to leave."
"Yeah, right," she scoffed, although she grabbed some dry clothes and went in the bathroom to change. "Tell me, Arsan, how's the old guy doing?"
Arsan narrowed his eyes, and a vein pulsed in his cheek. If I didn't know any better, I'd say that Sara's comment pissed him off.
"You will not speak of the Emperor in this manner," he said coldly, and crossed to the door. "I will meet you downstairs in the front hall within ten minutes."
"What about my brother?" I called, as Arsan walked away. "We can't leave without my brother, Rory."
The boy paused for a moment, and then turning back to me, he nodded his head.
"Go fetch your brother, but be quick."
I yelled to Sara as I ran out, heading toward the boys' dorm and Rory's room. Fortunately, my brother, didn't argue at all. He simply put on his coat and boots, grabbed his hat and gloves, and came along.
Ten minutes later, we were all trudging across a snowy field, following Arsan towards the forest which bordered the campus grounds.
"Where are we going?" Sara demanded, for about the twentieth time.
"Somewhere safe," Arsan replied yet again, and yet again, Sara launched into a litany of complaints. She was cold. Her feet were wet. She wanted to go back to the dorms. She had a date with Leon of the football fame.
I, seriously, was getting ready to deck her. I was cold, and my feet were wet too, but I believed Arsan when he said we needed to leave.
“Hey, what’s that?” Rory shouted, pointed at what looked like an old hippie van gliding to a stop in the snow just yards away.
“It’s an old hippie van,” I replied, my teeth chattering.
“Yo! Yo! Sara! It’s me!” A guy stuck his head out the window and waved.
“Loran?” Sara gasped.
“Oh no. It’s Loran,” I groaned.
Arsan pulled up short, his face disturbed.
“Need a ride, Princess?” Loran called, opening the door and waving us inside. “We’re on our way to the Imperial Palace, your castle in the sky. I didn’t have a white horse, so I brought this noble hippie van instead of a trusty stead.”
“Oh Loran!” Sara trilled, and immediately climbed inside.
I looked to Arsan. He was frowning, shaking his head, and staring at the snow.
“Foolish. But, what can we do?” I asked him, watching Rory climb in the van too.
“Hey!” I heard my brother call. “You’re that two headed dude. What happened to your other head?”
“Kari-fa,” Arsan swore under his breath, and looked around as if searching for someone other than me to give him instructions.
“Hurry up, Carolie!” Sara yelled. “You’re letting all the snow inside. Are you coming or not?”
“Well?” I asked Arsan.
“Go on,” he replied. “I shall figure out something.”
I climbed into the van. “Are you coming too?”
“Who’s the Karut?” one of the guys in front asked.
As soon as I realized they were Rossorians, dressed in those weird Rossorian cloaks, I had a sick feeling in my stomach that this trip was going to turn out bad.
“You had better,” I told Arsan. “Please. I think we’re going to need your help.”
He nodded slightly, and climbed in, surveying the van’s occupants with eyes now the color of the snow.
Chapter 13
Shika
It was totally strange being back in my parent’s apartment. Nobody had gone in there for more than two years. The furniture was shrouded in dustcovers, and the refrigerator was empty except for a bottle of ketchup, and an unopened six pack of Royal Mishnese Beer, the Draft of Kings.
Their clothes were still in their closets, my mother’s four thousand pairs of shoes lined up by color and heel height, my father’s sashes, epaulettes, aiguillettes, and medals all covered in a thick layer of dust.
“This is creepy,” my brother remarked, staring into the open fridge at the bottle of ketchup. “The last time she touched this was to pour some for me.”
“I’m very distressed that Petya turned out this way,” Taner said, settling himself on the sofa. “He was always such a delightful youngster. Marik, I could understand. He was hard and somewhat cold, but Petya was a lovable little urchin.”
“Isn’t an urchin covered in spines?” Rent asked, studying the ketchup bottle, turning it around in his hand as if there might be a secret message written on the inside.
“That’s a space urchin,” I snapped, “and, yeah. Petya was cute and lovable and covered in spines. I’d like to rip that fucking a-hole’s head off of his spindly neck. I should have done it when we were twelve. Then, we wouldn’t be dealing with him now.”
“Now, Shika,” Taner said.
“Now, Taner,” I repeated, striding across the room to check the locks on the balcony doors.
“Tried that,” Rent said, sticking his head in the empty freezer. “I also tried the windows. I think, we’re pretty much stuck.”
“Years ago your father climbed out the window.” Taner put his feet on the table, and smiled whimsically. “I was sleeping right here when that little scamp disappeared.”
“We could do that,” I said, gazing out at the building’s layered stone construction.
There were handholds and footholds. It didn’t look too difficult. Zem was still out there with car. We could climb up to the roof and he could meet us up there and rescue us.
“Of course, he went up on the roof and was shot after that. Took three bullets in the back and nearly died. Fell down on the marble terrace by the Crystal Ballroom right in the middle of the Saint’s Day Ball. Made quite a mess, blood and all. Ruined the party.” Taner scratched at his beard. “That was quite a Saint’s Day celebration for all of us.”
“I don’t want to climb out the window,” my brother decided, now looking through the cupboards.
“Are you hungry, Rent?”
“Sort of. Mom always kept boxes of Cheez-it’s and chips for me in here.”
“Kari-fa! They’d be more than two years old at this point. Don’t you think they’d be a little stale?”
“We may all have to eat stale Cheez-it’s if Petya decides not to feed us,” Taner remarked.
“Kari-fa!” I swore again and kicked the wall with my foot. “I don’t care what you guys decide, but I’m not going to sit around here and wait for Petya to execute us. I’m going to
find a way out.”
“How about in the bathroom?” Rent suggested.
“I don’t think I’ll fit down the drain.”
“There are windows in there,” Taner said. “Loman once told me how your mother climbed out after your great-uncle, Prince Akan kidnapped her. She scaled the side of the building just like your father did. The two of them were just like peas in a pod.”
“What?” My brother strolled over to the bathroom, the bottle of ketchup in his hand.
“Forget it. It’s an expression.”
I headed to the bathroom to survey the windows. There was a row of six, high on the wall, and over the enormous jetted tub. But, they were small. Mom could have fit through them, but not me, or Rent.
“Mom’s a lot smaller than us,” Rent remarked, gazing up at them. “You and I would get stuck.”
“No kidding? Seriously, dude? Why don’t you try it? You climb up there, and if you get stuck, I’ll push your butt.”
“Actually, Steve,” Rent held up the ketchup. “I was thinking we might be able to use this. And, for your information, I’m just as unhappy to be here as you.”
“Ketchup? Ketchup.” I shook my head. “In a plastic bottle. What do you intend to do with it? Poison someone?”
“I’m going to put in the microwave and heat it,” Rent replied, heading back to the kitchen. “The highly acidic tomatoes, being more than two years old, are probably well fermented. Heating it will force an explosion which ought to blow off the microwave door.”
“Which will alert the guards outside to open up,” Taner added. “Good thinking, son.”
“Okay, so they open the door.” I shrugged. “They’ve got guns and maybe, swords. What do you want me to do? Take one for the team while you guys run away?”
“No, Steve.” Rent knelt behind the counter and pulled out a selection of cans, Spaghetti-o’s, Chef Boyardee Ravioli, and baked beans.