Displaced (The Birthright Series Book 1)

by Bridget E. Baker

  My voice is flat. “I meant my guards.”

  “Relax. They’re fine, and I’m only here to help.”

  “What exactly are you going to do?” I ask.

  He shakes his head. “I obviously don’t know yet. I need to see the information you have and hear your full plan. But I’m an excellent problem solver.”

  Paul clears his throat. “Well, I’m sure you’ll figure out something brilliant with his help.” He raises his eyebrows at me. “But if you can’t come up with anything better, why don’t you let me execute your plan for you. I can air drop you anywhere along here and send a message to home base so they can come and retrieve you.”

  Paul’s offering to die in my place.

  “I should airdrop you.” I’m ashamed I didn’t think of that. “Or at least one of you. I doubt I can fly the plane and execute my plan at the same time.”

  “It is an honor to serve you, Your Majesty.” Paul seems absolutely serious.

  I cross to where he’s standing and put a hand on his shoulder. “You’ve always been kind, and brave, too. I appreciate your offer. But I have to do this myself.”

  His eyes glance down at my ring, probably thinking about the weight of ruling, or maybe about the fact that if we all die, the ring is lost again. Who knows, though? Maybe he has guessed that I plan to use the ring, somehow.

  “Well, I’ll be thinking things over in the cockpit,” Paul says. “If I have any ideas, I’ll let you know.”

  As soon as Paul’s gone, I turn to face Noah. “I wish you hadn’t come.”

  Noah sinks into one of the plush seats. I think about the last time I was in this plane. I was preparing to die then, too. I can’t catch a break today.

  “Have you heard of origami?” Noah asks.

  “Uh, folding paper cranes? Yeah, I’ve heard of it.”

  “I’ve been practicing origami since I was four. I’ve probably made ten thousand paper boxes, so trust me when I say I’m an expert at thinking outside of most any shaped box.”

  “Speaking of boxes, there wasn’t time,” I say, “to equip this plane with a Faraday box.”

  “So your weapon’s an EMP?” Noah asks.

  I nod.

  “How does it work?”

  I glance down at my mom’s ring, and Noah follows my gaze.

  “Last time we had trouble, you used your necklace. So, what? Your ring turns into an arrow and you shoot it at the other planes?”

  “Something like that,” I say.

  “I have totally been getting my mom’s Christmas gifts at the wrong places. I need the name of your jeweler.”

  “Here’s the thing, Noah. If anyone else could use this particular weapon, I’d let them. But only I can make it work. And if I weigh my life against that of thousands of humans—”

  “I bet a lot of your friends wouldn’t come to the same conclusion as you do about the relative value.” Noah folds his arms.

  “They wouldn’t, no. They’d put a billion human lives up against one evian, probably, but I’m not them. Your family matters to me, as do all the other people living in the area being bombed. I’m so sorry this is happening.”

  I hand him the file.

  While he looks over it, I think about my doubt before I fought Judica. It didn’t help me. In fact, it kept me from seeing the truth for longer. And I need to see the truth of what to do here right away, because if I fail, Judica isn’t the bad guy for sending these. I am for failing to fix it.

  “It’s noble of you to be willing to trade your life for people you don’t know.”

  “Thanks,” I say.

  “You know what’s even nobler?”

  “What?”

  “Not dying. Live and save people. That way you can fix all those things that are broken with your family.”

  “Thanks Confucius. Great tip.”

  Noah sits down next to me and rests his hand on mine. “Tell me what you’re doing, exactly. How does it work?”

  “I don’t really understand it myself.”

  “Well, start at the beginning.”

  To my surprise, I do. Maybe it’s because Noah’s going to die with me. Maybe it’s because he’s human. I tell him everything. I tell him about my mom’s death, and how awful it was. I tell him I don’t know who killed her or why. I tell him about Sotiris. I tell him about what happened before she died, and how I reacted to the ring. I even tell him about the prophecy.

  How it ruined my life. And how it’s obviously wrong, since I’m about to die.

  “So you’re sick to death of the guilt?”

  “Excuse me?” I ask.

  “You tried to get your sister to kill you earlier. Now you’re sacrificing yourself to save these people because your mom died for this secret. It must have a purpose, right? If you save these people, then your mom’s death wasn’t such a waste. And your sister, your poor, hurting, misunderstood sister can finally have what she always wanted, a sparkly crown all to herself.”

  I frown. “You don’t get it.”

  “Oh, I think I do.”

  “Look, I’ve always thought there must be a God. And if there is, and he gave me this gift that ruined my life, there must be a reason. Maybe it’s so I can right this tremendous wrong. Maybe all our decisions lead to others and there’s a purpose behind each of them. If I’d come back sooner, Judica wouldn’t have sent this yet, but I didn’t. So here I am, fixing my mistake.”

  “Dying without cause is cowardly. The Chancery Alamecha I’ve been watching isn’t a coward.”

  “You suck, Noah.”

  “I want to save that town full of people too, okay? I’m on board with that. It’s the dying horribly part where you lose me. There must be some way for you to use that ring without knocking out our plane at the same time.”

  I think about it. Isn’t that what my mom wanted? For me to master the ring and be able to direct the projection of the EMP?

  “The problem is that I focus my energy, and it just bursts out of the ring. I’m not sure how far, but it wiped out our entire island and part of a neighboring one the first time.”

  “That’s a pretty hot blast,” Noah says.

  “Yeah.”

  “There was a second time?”

  “My mom made me practice a little.”

  “How’d that go?”

  “Not so great,” I say. “Near the end, I directed the pulse so that it took out everything in front of me first, before the electronics beside me shorted.”

  Noah thinks for a moment. “Maybe the problem is the goal. We’re imagining that we’ll fly up behind the planes, right? Zoom down behind them and zap all three, right?”

  I nod. “Basically.”

  “And if we do that, when our electronics are fried, we all lose altitude at the same time, and the bomb will be triggered below a certain altitude and BOOM, we all die, right?”

  “Yep.”

  “So instead, how about we fly at them head on and pass them. Then you stand at the back of the jet and take them out. We’ll be headed in opposite directions, so if you send your pulse out in just one direction—”

  “Best case, we don’t fry our plane, and worst case, we’re already heading away from the other planes when we do. The warhead detonates at altitude, but they’re flying west and we’re flying east,” I finish for him. “We might get far enough away to survive the blast.”

  Noah smiles. “I’ve heard you heal pretty well. I mean, as a human, I’ll still be toast, but you might pull through.”

  I punch his shoulder. It might work. It’s better than my suicide plan, except for two things. “If we pass them, they’ll see us, and they’ll shoot and kill us.”

  “Let’s talk to Paul, but if we pass them way below or way above, then drop precipitously, maybe it could work. Maybe they won’t see us.”

  “Even if we work that out, if we pass them first, before I use the pulse, I’ll only get one shot. What if I mess up?”

  “Don’t.”

  “Very helpful.�
��

  “You have to think about directing the pulse. I saw you use your little necklace bombs before.” He points at my chain. “You’re really good with it. Think of the EMP as a slingshot. If you focus on throwing the pulse away from us...” He shrugs.

  I talk to Paul about the logistics and we work out the kinks in Noah’s plan. Paul thinks we can sneak past them. It helps that we have all the details on the planes, and they’re dated. Plus, Noah’s plane is a commercial one, not a fighter jet, so they might not automatically suspect us.

  Once I work all that out, it’s time for the part Noah is going to hate.

  “Now that we might survive this,” Noah says, “I think we need to get a message to our boy Edam so he knows where to come looking for us.”

  “I didn’t want him to try and stop me,” I say, “but now that we might make it home, yeah, you’re right.”

  I grab Noah and before he has time to react, I wrap both his arms behind him. Paul helps me bind him up, and we prepare for an emergency airdrop. Noah shouts and hollers and squawks.

  We ignore him.

  Once we have Noah bound and ready to drop, with a parachute he can release and a raft with a homing beacon, I dial up the in-flight phone and call the palace. “I need to speak with the Prince Regent.”

  “Did you just say Prince Regent?” Noah groans. “That’s a ridiculous name, and I can’t just let that pass, but also, that old man is going to be even more insufferable after this.”

  “Shut up.” I kick at Noah, but he hops out of the way.

  A voice in the receiver distracts me. “Hello?”

  “Edam?”

  “Why did you leave without guards?” he asks. “And why did you shut the radio off? I’ve been debating whether to send a strike force after you.”

  “Do not send a strike force. I’m fine. I had Paul shut off the radio and I left before the guards could board on purpose.”

  Edam sighs. “I expected something like this. You’re headed for China.”

  “I’m somewhere over the Pacific right now, yes.”

  Edam curses. A lot.

  “I couldn’t let them die,” I say.

  “There’s nothing you can do! I thought you understood that.”

  “There is something,” I say. “My mom’s ring is a weapon. It caused that EMP the day before she died. I caused that EMP with it.”

  He swears even more creatively. “If I’d known, I’d have tied you down in your room until that bomb went off.”

  “And that’s why I didn’t tell you. I’m keeping you from committing treason. You’re welcome.”

  “You’d be surprised what I’ll do to keep you alive, Chancy.”

  “Well, then I’m glad you didn’t know, because I need your help. I have a stowaway, and I’m about to airdrop him and send you the coordinates. Please send someone to fetch him quickly. And in about half an hour, it’s quite likely my plane will go down too. We’ll turn on tracking so you can, hopefully, find us as well.”

  “I’ll come myself.”

  “The Prince Regent absolutely cannot leave the island,” I say firmly.

  “Then why did you name Inara as my backup?”

  I grumble under my breath, but I knew he’d do this before I called. “Accept the world as it is.”

  “I hate that stupid motto. Have I ever told you that?”

  “No.” I smile. “I’m not surprised, though. I’ve hated it for years.”

  “It should be, ‘Accept the world as it is, or order troops to change it while you’re safe at home, because you can’t do every single little thing yourself’.”

  “That’s not very snappy,” Noah says.

  “Wait, Noah’s with you? I dropped him off downstairs myself.”

  “We definitely need to look into that upon our return,” I say. If I return. “I have no idea how he escaped and snuck on.”

  “How did you manage to leave without Frederick?” Edam asks.

  “Uh. . .” I say. “I sent Freddy to run an errand.”

  “He wouldn’t tell me how you slipped away, but he’s not happy about it.”

  “I’m low on time.” I give Edam the coordinates and signal Paul to open the escape hatch.

  It creates a lot less wind than I expected, which is good because I have to cut the ties on Noah’s hands. Then I shove him out the door before he can argue with me any more. No matter how great his plan, no human could survive a plane crash coupled with a nuclear bomb. He needs to get out now, while he has a chance to survive this.

  “Wow, who knew it was this fun to shove someone out an escape hatch?” I ask.

  Paul is busy with buttons and knobs, but he tosses a grin back at me. “I’ll look into that.”

  If we survive.

  I head for the back so I don’t distract him. But with Noah gone, it’s eerily quiet. Paul and David prepare for the final course corrections, and I review my plan in my head. The minutes drag without Noah’s jokes. I hope he’s okay in the middle of the ocean. I hope Edam doesn’t have any trouble finding him. I hope my plan stands a chance of working.

  I review the plan for the rendevous over and over in my head. But finally, it’s time.

  Paul clears his throat. “Your Majesty?”

  “Yes?”

  “They’re getting close, up ahead.”

  I walk to the cockpit and squint. I can barely make out three aircraft, two smaller ones flanking a larger plane below.

  I walk to the back of the jet and buckle into the chair at the very back. I wish it swiveled around. “Open the emergency doors,” I shout.

  He does. The wind whips my hair around my face and tugs on my clothes, but I remain focused. Which is why I see the jets peel off.

  “We’ve done everything we planned,” Paul yells, “but I think they saw us. They’re not going to let us fly past.”

  I undo my buckle and run toward the cockpit, staggering and grabbing chairs and railings to claw my way forward.

  One of the MiGs fires something at us.

  David presses a button. “Flares.”

  The missile zooms down below us.

  “This might be a good time for you to do whatever you’re doing,” Paul says.

  Duh.

  The other MiG shoots off a missile as they close on us. It’s now or never.

  So much for my EMP pulse from the back of the plane. I focus on the lights flashing in Mom’s ring and think of my anger, my hatred for Nereus, whoever he or she is, and what it’s done to my family. I imagine my little sister, the little sister I’ll never hug or kiss or sing to sleep. I take all that anger, that hatred, that fury, and I imagine I’m putting it all in a slingshot and shooting it at the planes and the missile and BAM, it tears out of me.

  The second missile explodes in front of us and we fly through the debris, Noah’s jet lurching and shuddering, but the planes don’t alter their course.

  “Did it work?” I ask.

  I watch as the jet and MiGs fly past us, seemingly unharmed.

  Oh crap. I got the missile and missed the real target.

  I race to the back of the jet, flipping head over heels and flying past a dozen seats in the wind whipping through the jet before I grab one of the side railings. My heart throws somersaults in my chest. The jets are specks on the horizon, but when I poke my head around the corner of the emergency door, I can see them. Barely.

  And the cup in my head is finally full again.

  This time I don’t try to aim or direct anything. I fling the power out of me and at the three aircraft with the full force of my rage, loss, despair, fear, and hope. A fireball flies through the air, and a strange sort of vibration blows past it and outward.

  I squint up ahead to see the wave hit the three aircraft. I breathe a big sigh of relief when they all begin losing altitude at an alarming rate. I scream for Paul’s help closing the emergency doors. When we return to the cockpit of our plane, I’m relieved to see lights and dials still whirring and beeping and flashing.


  “You did it,” Paul says. “You sent the EMP to them. Our controls still work.”

  “Now we just need to survive the fusion bomb.” Five hundred times stronger than the original bombs Mom detonated before. Ugh.

  “One thing at a time.” David pulls on a lever and the jet accelerates. “Let’s put some distance between them and us.”

  “Please go sit down and buckle up,” Paul says. “Any minute the blast will hit us. You need to brace yourself.”

  There’s a sound like my ears popping and then a bump like no turbulence I’ve ever felt, and then the world goes black.

  34

  Buzzing fills my ears and my head is stuffed with cotton. I shake my head and yawn, and I open my eyes. Edam and Noah are arguing directly in front of me. I focus on the movement of their mouths and realize there is an echoey reverberation that matches their voices faintly, behind the buzzing.

  “Of course, you idiot. It’s not like I didn’t think of that.” Edam’s fist is clenched, and he towers over Noah menacingly.

  “Then why are you standing there stupidly?” Noah asks. “Get a syringe! Her body might need a boost.”

  “You’re pushy for someone whose blood would not only be useless,” Edam says. “It would probably also give her hepatitis.”

  Noah’s shoulders straighten. “I’ve had just about enough—”

  I focus on my ear canals and drums, and the buzzing dissipates, leaving only an underlying humming. It could be the sound of rotors. “Hello?” My voice is raspy. It doesn’t sound like me.

  A split second later, both their faces swim over mine.

  I blink and blink and blink until they both come into focus. “Where are we?”

  “On an albatross, which is a friggin’ seaplane.” Noah rolls his eyes and jerks his thumb at Edam. “This one’s idea of rescue.”

  “I am so happy to see your gorgeous, blue eyes,” Edam says.

  “They’re blue again?” I blink more.

  “Your retinas must have burned off in the blast, and they always regrow their original color.” Edam shudders. “There’s a phrase I wish I didn’t need to say.”

  “I like them better this way,” Noah says. “They almost match mine.”

  “How do you have blue eyes, anyway?” I ask Noah.