Displaced (The Birthright Series Book 1)

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Displaced (The Birthright Series Book 1) Page 36

by Bridget E. Baker


  Which brings me to Alora. I can’t think of any reason she might want me dead. Judica, Melina, and Inara would all have to die before Alora would be in line for the throne. And she’s never seemed to have any interest in it. Even so, I should talk to her before I leave. She has the least cause of all to harm me, and I trust her opinion the most. I throw the rest of my belongings in a bag and race downstairs.

  I find her in the library, surrounded by books and busy reading one. I clear my throat and she looks up.

  I dive right into the important part. “Marselle brought urgent intel. Judica’s planning to bomb China before my return.”

  “That’s terrible.” Alora snaps the book closed. “She’s eager to make a name for herself.”

  “It’s a little more complicated than that. As you know, we control both Cuba and the United States. Evians all know that, but humans don’t, which of course includes China. Mom always made Judica propose plans for what she’d do to establish herself—”

  “When Mother died.” Alora leans back in her chair and looks at the ceiling. “I had to do the same.”

  “In Judica’s most recent plan, we send a bomb from Alaska, disguised as a bomb from Russia. China might reject the United States’ offer of aid, but it would accept aid from Cuba. Either way, Russia looks like the bad guy, and the bombing allows her a way to slide in seamlessly and begin to develop influence in sections of China. Of course, Lainina is going to be pissed, since it implicates her holdings.”

  Alora stands and pulls her phone from her pocket. “I take it this moves up our timeframe. I’ll call Phil and let him know we need the jet.”

  I shake my head. “I need you here. If this goes badly, you won’t want to be anywhere near Judica. Trust me.”

  “At least I don’t have to worry about you,” she says. “I will anyway, but not nearly as much.”

  She still thinks Edam’s fighting for me. “Actually, I decided to fight her myself.”

  Alora gulps. “Why?”

  “Mom never made me run drills for what I’d do to prove myself, but even if she had, I’d never have come up with something that murdered millions of people.”

  “Humans,” Alora says. “There aren’t any evians in China, at least not any sanctioned ones.”

  “They’re still people,” I say, disappointed that even Alora cares less about humans.

  “Fair enough.”

  “Since I can’t do something that splashy, I’ll need to do something else to set the tone of my reign.” I shove down my uncertainty and doubt. I can do this. I have to do this. “I’m going to take down the biggest dog in the place, who also happens to have murdered our mother. Two birds with one, err, sword, as the case may be.”

  Alora sinks into her wingback desk chair with a whomp.

  I perch on the edge of the wooden chair facing her desk. “You lied before. You don’t think I can do it.”

  Alora looks down at her hands. “I should tell you something about melodics. It’s effective, and if you’ve started to hear melodic lines. . . it might even be enough, but. . . You know I won the centennial games a hundred and twenty years ago. What you don’t know is how I won.”

  Alora stands up and removes a book from the second highest shelf in the room. She plonks it down on the table, flips it open to a page, and points at a large glossy black and white photo. “Believe it or not, this was a pretty impressive bit of technology at the time.”

  I glance down at the photograph of the Alamecha Centennial Games team. Alora’s wearing a smart black dress with divided skirts and her hair is pulled back into a severe bun.

  She flips the page and shows me an image of the Lenora team. She points at a kid near the front. “This was who I fought in my first match.”

  “She looks ten years old!”

  She laughs. “Not quite, but she should’ve been an easy win. I was nervous and she was so young that we’d never even met socially. She was a nobody, barely even qualified to enter. Everyone knew that round was a given for me, Chancery. She was twenty-third generation.” Alora closes her eyes, reliving the match in her mind. She exhales and opens her eyes. “And she almost beat me.”

  Like my match with Lark, I imagine.

  “No one even considered I might win the tournament after that near miss. Even worse, after bumbling my way through my first match, I had very bad luck. My next fight was against one of the top contenders, a man I had actually dated. I knew him very well. He was a much better fighter than me and everyone knew it, including Vaughn.”

  “Wait, you fought someone from Alamecha?” I ask.

  Alora clucks. “You haven’t been to the Games yet, but they don’t care what family you’re from. You’re matched up randomly until the finals.”

  “Wow, so if I went, I could fight Judica, Edam, and Lark.”

  Alora lifts her eyebrows. “Lark isn’t eligible.”

  Duh. “Well, Judica could have to fight Edam, then. Just like you fought your ex.”

  “Precisely, and the point is that I should have lost, Chancy. He should have destroyed me.”

  “Did he let you win?”

  She shakes her head. “We ended badly, and he was angry. I am absolutely positive he did not let me win. No, I won because I knew him extremely well, maybe better than he knew himself. I knew everything about him: his pain, his pride, his anger, his joy, his every motivation. I heard his melodic line with total clarity. I anticipated every single move and wasn’t off by a note.”

  “So I need to know Judica?” I groan. “She’s the devil. We’re twins, we have identical DNA but for seventeen years, I’ve tried to guess how she’ll react, and I’m never right. If I think up, she goes down. I’m not even kidding, Alora, the other day she stabbed me with a fork at breakfast for no reason.”

  “That may have been the case a month ago,” she says. “But now you have more in common, and I think you’re looking at the past with new eyes. I hope it has given you more insight.”

  I shake my head. I just don’t know.

  “Chancery, after I defeated Vaughn, I went on to fight more amazing, talented fighters. I researched each of them, compiling everything I knew. I watched them fight whenever I could. I managed to beat them, one after another, but my last fight was against the man who had won every single Centennial games for seven hundred years. My uncle.”

  My mouth drops. I thought he had simply stopped competing. I didn’t know he’d lost. “How did you beat Balthasar? I heard he was unbeatable.”

  “He should’ve been. I thought my ex-boyfriend would beat me for sure, and I was delighted when I won, but I knew in my bones I couldn’t defeat Balthasar. I had learned in fighting Vaughan that to win, I needed to know the person. No one alive knew Balthasar better than Mother. They’d been dear friends for almost eight hundred years. I spent hours talking to Mother about him. Then, I watched Balthasar talk to her. Mother told me a lot, but I discovered something when I watched them together.”

  “What?” I’m sitting on the edge of my seat, leaning toward her.

  “Balthasar was in love with her. Not admiration, not high regard, not major consideration for her feelings, not respect for a great ruler. He was in love. Once I figured that out, his life choices, and consequently his melodic line, became utterly understandable. If I hadn’t puzzled out something no one else knew, including our Mother, and possibly Balthasar himself, I never could have won that match.”

  “What are you saying?”

  Alora walks around the desk and takes my hands in hers. “Chancy, you can beat her. But you need to know Judica better than she knows herself, and hating her won’t get you there. You need to understand her. Edam may want to practice today on the flight and that’s fine, but if you’re hearing melodic lines, your most critical preparation will take place in here.” She taps the side of my head.

  Footsteps sound near the door. I stand up. “Come in,” I say.

  Lark’s head peeks around at us.

  I hadn’t contemplated th
at I’ll have to leave her. If things go badly, I’ll never see her again. “Promise you’ll take care of her,” I whisper to Alora.

  “Take care of me?” Lark asks.

  Clearly I need to work on my volume levels. “I’m headed back today. Judica’s moving ahead in my absence in ways I can’t allow, so I’m fighting her myself.”

  Lark frowns. “I’m coming along.”

  “You can’t,” I say. “Mom ordered your execution and we let everyone believe it took place. You must stay here and develop into the asset I know you can be.”

  She shakes her head vehemently. “You need me by your side.” She squares her shoulders. “You don’t have that many people you can trust.”

  I’m not even sure she’s on that list, but I want her to be, badly. “It’s too risky for you.”

  “I don’t care.” She sets her jaw and I know she means it.

  All the times I slid my eggs onto her plate, and dragged her along for jogs, and swam with dolphins in the surf, and painted our toenails together slam into my mind like a wave to the face. Surprising, overwhelming, and refreshing. I can’t leave her here alone, not after all we’ve been through. She’d be safer, but life isn’t worth living because it’s safe.

  “If that’s what you want,” I say.

  “I do,” she says. “I want to be with you.”

  “Then you better grab your bags.”

  Lark rushes out the door, and I follow her to grab my things. Edam’s waiting outside, and he insists on carrying my stuff. Even if he’s not my Consort, he’s nice to have around. Alora meets us at the door to see us off.

  “Do you want me to come with you?” she asks.

  I pull her tightly against me. “No. I want you here, safe. Because I don’t know how this will go down, but Judica won’t be happy you supported me. I’m worried enough already.”

  “I can take care of myself.” The glint in Alora’s eye is one I’ve never seen, but I believe her. There’s more to my older sister than I realized.

  A long, black suburban pulls up behind the black sedan.

  “What’s that?” I ask.

  “You said the jet we’re taking seats twenty-two,” Frederick says.

  “Right,” I say.

  “Well, by my count, that leaves enough room for all the guards we came with,” Frederick says. “And I plan to fill every seatbelt. You aren’t heading home alone.”

  On the drive over to the plane home, Edam can’t stop talking. Something about the knowledge I’m about to fight Judica has knocked a screw loose in his head.

  “Another thing I forgot to mention,” he says, “is that—”

  I cut him off in the middle of his fourteenth tip. “Edam.”

  His mouth clicks shut.

  “I appreciate your desire to help.” I put my hand over his.

  “But I’m making you nervous?”

  I lean back in my seat and close my eyes. “This fight won’t be won or lost from tips or tricks.” I think about Alora’s words. I need to win it in my head. I need to understand the enigma.

  Which means I’m probably going to die.

  Edam flips his hand over and wraps it around mine. “You will do it. I believe you can, truly.”

  “Do you not trust Alora?” Lark asks. “Is that why we’re taking Noah’s jet?”

  I glance up at Bernard and widen my eyes.

  Lark splutters.

  “Of course I trust Alora,” I say. “I just don’t want to give Judica any more cause to blame her if. . .”

  “No,” Edam says. “No talking like that.”

  “And we’re sure of Noah?” Lark asks. “Because we don’t know him at all.”

  I glare at Lark and Edam.

  “What?” Edam protests. “I didn’t even say anything.”

  “You thought it,” I say. “I think we can all agree he’s human, and he was genuinely shocked when I told him about evians.”

  “I wasn’t there,” Edam says, “so I can’t speak to that. But I don’t trust him. Not a bit.”

  “Duly noted.” I refuse to fall back into the tangle of self-doubt over who to trust. It’s quicksand.

  “We’re here,” Bernard says.

  I’m relieved to be diverted from my deliberations. Even if he’s not coming with us, interacting with Noah is always distracting. I climb out of the sedan and tell Bernard goodbye. When I turn away from the car, Noah’s smiling at me from the doorway of the hangar. My heart lurches at the sight of his grin. I didn’t think I’d see it again.

  “Thanks for loaning us your jet,” Edam says.

  I’m proud of him for making an effort to be civil.

  “Sure, happy to help,” Noah says, “plus a trip to Hawaii is always fun.”

  Edam bristles. “You’re not coming.”

  “Of course I am,” Noah says. “It’s my jet.”

  I shake my head. “You need to get back to school, and where we’re going, it’s not a vacation.”

  “No way.” Noah crosses his arms. “I’m coming. It’s my one stipulation to the loan.”

  Edam rolls his eyes. “Look kid, I understand you’re upset, but that doesn’t mean you can follow us into a hostile environment. You annoy me, but I don’t want you dead.”

  “Why should I care whether evians are there?” Noah asks.

  “We’re gods compared to you.” Edam says.

  Noah clenches his fists.

  Edam lifts one eyebrow casually and the corner of his mouth turns up into a half grin. “Are you trying to look threatening right now, cream puff?”

  “Look,” I say, “we’re not trying to be jerks, but—”

  Edam interrupts me. “A ten year old evian girl would crush you like a bug.”

  “I don’t care, okay? I don’t care how dangerous it is, or whether I’m a lowly, useless dog.”

  “Your hearing really is bad. I said a bug, not a dog,” Edam says. “Calling you a dog would be an insult—”

  Noah practically spits. ““It’s my jet and that’s my offer. Take me with you or find another way home.”

  “Fine.” Edam steps toward Noah and grabs him by the collar of his jacket. “I’ll knock him out and we’ll take his jet anyway.”

  Noah’s eyes flash, but he doesn’t back down, even with his feet dangling in the air. I’m almost impressed. It’s easy to be brave when you’re sure to win. It’s harder when you’re about to take an epic beating.

  I shake my head. “No.”

  Edam throws his hands in the air, dropping Noah in a heap in the process. “Fine. Call Alora. I’m sure she’ll—”

  “We will take Noah’s jet, and he will stay on board with his pilot when we land.”

  Lark taps my elbow. “Does anyone know we’re coming? Because they shoot down uninvited planes.”

  “Not yet.” I call Inara. She picks up after only one ring.

  “I hadn’t heard from you since I sent that last video file,” she says. “I was worried.”

  “I’m fine,” I say. “In fact, I’m coming home.”

  “What?” she asks. “Now?”

  “Yes,” I say. “It’s time. Tell Judica I’m not abdicating, and you can go ahead and tell her I’m not naming Edam as my Consort either.”

  “I thought not,” Inara says ruefully. “It still might be your best idea. I’ve given it some thought and—”

  I cut her off before Edam can hear confirmation that she’s the one who sent the footage. Although he probably guessed. “I’m only calling to ask you to pass a message along. Will you convey something to Judica for me?”

  “Something happened,” Inara says. “And you suspect me.”

  I close my eyes. “No.”

  “What happened? Are you alright?”

  I clear my throat. “There was an attack, but I’m fine, and I don’t blame you. Judica has always been a wild card.”

  “I’m sorry,” Inara says. “And I’m so glad you’re okay.”

  I asked Inara to stay behind for me, but I haven�
�t spent much time worried about her. “Are you alright?”

  “Never mind that,” Inara says. “What can I do?”

  “Tell Judica I have the ring.”

  “She won’t even consider shooting down the plane with the ring on board,” Inara says. “People don’t give you enough credit.”

  “Think you can convince her?”

  “Is it true?” Inara asks.

  “Of course it is.” Or at least, I know where the ring is. Same thing, sort of.

  “She’ll push to fight you as soon as you land,” Inara says. “Be prepared, little one.”

  “I’ll try,” I say. “Accept the world as it is.”

  “Or do something to change it.”

  I press end and go to collect my bags, but Edam’s already carrying them up the stairs. No one speaks as we board. It’s a nice plane, roomy even, at least, until Frederick fills every seat.

  “Wow,” I say. “This is a top of the line jet, Noah.”

  “I’m blessed, that’s for sure.” Noah hands me a menu. “Feel free to order anything that looks good. I’ve noticed you don’t peck at things like a bird.”

  “I think I’m being insulted,” I say.

  “All this flirting is giving me a headache,” Edam says. “And we need to practice a few moves and then you need a nap.”

  I fill Noah in on the basics of what’s going on while we wait for our sandwiches. I tell him a little more about my mom’s death, how she changed the heirship documents, and how my sister challenged me. I tell him I suspect my sister killed our mother, and that she’s planning to bomb an open area to cement her rule.

  “Wait.” The color drains from Noah’s face. “Didn’t you say the only open area is in China?”

  He catches on too fast. “Don’t worry,” I say. “I’ll stop her.”

  He lifts both eyebrows. “You also said she’s a warrior and you’re not.”

  I open my mouth to argue, but he’s right. I might lose. Actually, the odds are probably stacked against me no matter how you look at it. He should worry.

  Noah gulps. “Do you know where in China?”

 

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