by Beth Hodgson
“Auron, what has happened?” she asked, her voice sounding fearful.
“Where is His Majesty?” Auron asked. “Is he coming?”
“I am here,” Cyrus called out from behind him. Cyrus came trailing into the room, dressed in a gold satin robe. Auron turned and bowed to the Emperor, waiting for him to seat himself on the throne. “What is the meaning of this?” he demanded.
The Empress eyed her husband, then asked, “Did you have a vision? Please. Tell us.”
Auron bowed to them both, his gaze locked on the Empress, then moved to the Emperor. “Our future, the future of Earth, is in peril.”
The Empress gasped, and Cyrus turned from sleepy to serious.
Auron’s eyes shifted back to the Empress. “Empress, this vision has shown me who is behind the disappearance of magic. I regret to inform you that it is your sister. Ikaria has been consuming the other gifteds’ blood.”
“Ikaria?” Ayera said in an unbelieving voice, becoming quiet. “No. She wouldn’t dare,” she whispered.
“Do you think she means to use her power against us? She probably wants to form a coup against the current court!” Cyrus said heatedly. “I knew she had it out for us ever since Ayera and I assumed the throne!”
“Perhaps,” Ayera said gravely, slightly agreeing with her husband. “But I would think that her ultimate goal would be to confront the High Court. She has always had a vendetta against them. More so than us, Cyrus.”
“I cannot say for certain Ikaria’s true intent,” Auron said, “but what the vision did reveal was that if Ikaria acquires of all of the colors of the magic, the world will be destroyed. Earth as we know it will no longer exist.” Auron looked up at both of them on their seated platform. “It was never intended by the God of Light for humans to complete the Spectrum of Magic. It is only meant for the God of Light himself. If a human were to consume all the colors of blood… the gift of the black would appear.”
“Gift of the black?” Ayera sucked in her breath.
“Yes, Your Majesty. It is speculated among religious texts outside The Spectrum, that if one were to consume all of the magics, it would summon black magic into the life force of that individual. It is said that it is a power so great, it would bring calamity to our entire world, shadowing it in darkness.”
Ayera’s face appeared mortified.
“But what of green magic? There is no way to complete the spectrum without the gift of the green,” Cyrus argued. “It simply does not exist.”
Auron hesitated, then met Cyrus’s eyes. “Correct, it does not exist in this time. But it did in the past.”
Cyrus and Ayera’s eyes shot at him, like they finally understood what was happening.
“If that is the case, she must not travel back. We must stop her,” Cyrus said.
Auron saw the Empress’s face was frozen, much like Ikaria when she was deep in thought. He could also see the fear radiating from her eyes. Auron knew it was hard for her to stomach, with Ikaria being her sister. But Ayera was no fool when it came to Ikaria’s interests. She always kept her close to keep a watchful eye on her. Even their father, Emperor Ojin, knew of the potential dangers when the transfer of the named heir had gone to Ayera. Ikaria had always been the clever one.
“We must warn the High Court. They must be made aware of Ikaria’s plans,” Cyrus said, then he turned to Ayera. “You must convene the High Court and ask them for reinforcements from the other sectors. She may not be able to wield her magic yet, but either way, we must be prepared for anything. In the meantime, I will make sure certain gifted are aware and on guard while you are away. We will await the High Court’s help.”
“Certain gifted?” Auron asked. “Why not all? They are all in danger.”
“No. I do not want Ikaria to get wind that we know of her actions. We must be discreet.”
Auron bowed. “Yes, Your Majesty.”
The Empress Ayera gave a slight nod to her husband and Auron, then began to descend from the throne platform, making haste down the stairs. “Guards! Guards!” she yelled.
The guards entered, bowing as she moved quickly toward them. “Yes, Your Majesty?”
“Prepare one of the airships immediately. We need to be ready within twenty minutes for departure,” she barked as she exited.
“Right away, Your Majesty.” The guard bowed, following the Empress out of the room.
Cyrus was still seated on the throne, rubbing his chin. He lightly tapped the armrest of his throne in thought.
“What is it, Your Majesty?” Auron asked.
“Auron, do you think Ikaria has figured out how to wield her magic?”
“Which magic, sire? Her violet? Or her new colors?”
“Any of them.”
“I do not know. In my vision, she did not use her magic until she completed the spectrum. It is hard to say. But it’s best to be prepared in any case,” Auron cautioned.
“Yes, yes, of course,” Cyrus said casually, still in thought. He waved his hand, dismissing Auron.
Auron began to walk away, but then stopped, turning around quickly. “I forgot to mention one thing while the Empress was present.”
“What is it?” Cyrus asked, still distracted.
“The gift of the red. There is someone with the red gift who has the ability to stop Ikaria.”
Cyrus’s eyes shot to Auron, him leaning in. “Truly?” he asked curiously.
“I don’t know who he is, or where he comes from, but he is out there,” Auron said. “I only saw him as a ghost of some kind.”
“Interesting,” Cyrus said. He leaned back in his throne, in thought once again.
Auron gave a bow and was off.
CHAPTER TWENTY-NINE
“What the hell is taking you so long?” Kyle muttered impatiently, hovering over Diego’s shoulder as the bassist typed on the keyboard of his computer.
“Dude, I’m really shitty at typing okay?” Diego shrugged, taking a drink in between typing letters.
Kyle continued to watch as Diego struggled to find the letters on the keyboard. Homeboy had no clue about computers, almost as much as Kyle did. “Yeah, I can tell. You only use two fingers,” Kyle said under his breath.
“Would you like to sit down and type, dickwad?” Diego shot back.
“No, I don’t. I hate computers.”
“Then you’re stuck with me typing. And if I want to type with two fucking fingers, then you will have to fucking deal with it.”
Kyle huffed and kicked the computer desk lightly, irritated. “Tell me, why was Remy busy today?” Kyle thought about how much more computer savvy Remy was.
“I dunno. All he said is that he had shit to do. I didn’t ask. Maybe if you got a phone, you could call and ask him yourself.”
“What makes you think that I can get my phone reconnected when I can’t even afford a decent fucking guitar,” Kyle said, turning away and lighting a cigarette.
He wanted to pull his hair out watching Diego fuck around with the computer. It had been two days since Jaxx smashed his guitar, and Kyle still hadn’t replaced it. He had no savings and just a little money left over from the two gigs prior. And with Jaxx fucking up his guitar, the band had missed their last gig. That screwed Kyle even further, because now he was guitarless and broke. It was a vicious cycle. He needed the guitar to make money, but he needed money for a guitar. He was fucked.
Over the last two days, he had spent his free time over at Remy’s apartment, searching online for a used piece-of-shit guitar in the classifieds, but they were all over his budget. At least that’s what Remy said, as he was the one that did all the searching. But today, for some damn reason, Remy was busy, and Kyle was forced to go over to Diego’s place and deal with all his bullshit.
Kyle fought with himself off and on about asking the guys to borrow money. But he was too damn prideful and didn’t want to bring it up unless the guys did it first. He was actually waiting for them to offer, considering they needed his ass for their upcoming shows. But they were daf
t at times and couldn’t take a fucking hint. If they didn’t offer by the end of the week, he was gonna have to swallow his pride and just ask. Hopefully it wouldn’t come to that.
Another thing that was driving him completely nuts was Em. He was going insane. He had every urge to take her in his arms and have his way with her. But Em was not that kind of girl, and he didn’t want to risk coming off like a complete asshole. If any other woman stayed around as long as she did, they either wanted a good fuck or were about to pursue some sort of commitment. But Em, somewhat naive to the world around her, seemed fine regardless of her situation, content to hang around with Kyle and the band.
Even though Em had told Kyle that she wasn’t in love, she sure seemed to be attached to the man who gave her that ring. Kyle noticed that she never took it off the chain around her neck, and sometimes she would grasp the ring in her hands, almost like she could summon the man’s spirit to her just by touching it. Sure, at times she flirted with Kyle, but Kyle chalked it up to her being herself without the barriers of her old life holding her back, and he didn’t think it was something special meant for him.
Between Em and his guitar, he just wanted to punch a wall in frustration. And Diego fucking failing at his computer skills just added fuel to the fire.
“Where’s Em at today? How come she didn’t come?” Diego asked, scrolling through a list of guitars on a secondhand site.
“She said she had to finish the flyer.”
“That’s a lame excuse.”
“Forget about Em,” Kyle said impatiently. “Did you find anything? I really need to find something soon, otherwise we’re fucked.” Thinking about Em made him crazier, and every time he tried not to think of her, he kept getting reminded of her. It was like a damn curse or something.
“Nope. Not yet. It’s kinda hard when you don’t have any money to spend.” Diego took another drink, continuing to scroll. His middle button input device made a grinding sound, worse than normal. Diego took the device, smacking it several times, then returned to scrolling again, giving it a good shake. “Dammit. This thing is going. I need to replace it.”
“Wonderful,” Kyle said sarcastically, taking a drag of his cigarette.
Diego slammed the device down again, then shook it on his desk, seeing if the cursor showed up on the computer screen. Kyle already knew what was coming.
“Yep. Broken. Damn. Looks like I need to replace it.”
“Great. Fucking great. Waste of time.”
“Sorry, dude. I’m not like Remy. He’s willing to spend his money on a decent machine. This shit is used. I can’t help if this shit breaks so easily.”
Kyle turned away, grabbing his jacket and throwing it on. “I’m going home,” Kyle snarled. He took a long drag, then exhaled, rubbing his cigarette butt hard into the ashtray.
He was pissed. Why did this shit always happen to him?
“Going home to Em, huh? Did you get her to play with your dick yet?” Diego called out, smiling.
Swinging an about-face, Kyle marched right up to Diego, swinging aside an empty chair, lowering his face into his. “Don’t ever say that shit to me again!”
“Oh, so you haven’t,” Diego said, unaffected by Kyle’s attitude. “Well, damn, dude. What the hell are you waiting for?”
Angrily, Kyle clenched his fist, wanting to swing at his buddy. But it wasn’t worth it. Dude was being a dude.
After a moment’s pause, Kyle clenched his mouth shut, forcing every swear word back in his body. He quickly marched toward the door, then kicked it, venting his pent-up frustration. Swinging the door open wildly, Kyle left, slamming the door behind him.
***
Kyle rode all the way home, pissed. God, Diego irritated him sometimes. The fuck was Diego thinking saying shit like that to him? The dipshit didn’t use his brain half the time.
Returning to his apartment building, Kyle took the elevator, then walked down his apartment floor’s hall, catching a glimpse of Rosie, also walking down to her door, with a basket of laundry.
Rushing to help her, Kyle snatched the basket out of her hands.
“Kyle, I really don’t need help. What do I look like? Old?” Rosie joked. She shuffled her feet as they walked, cracking a smile.
“Don’t bullshit me, Rosie,” Kyle said, following her to her doorstep. While he waited for Rosie to unlock her door, Kyle glanced down at the stack of her mail. Of course, without fail, there were three fresh new gossip magazines in the pile, one on top of the other.
“Thank you,” Rosie said as she opened the door.
Kyle followed, entering her apartment. He set down her laundry basket on her couch, then headed back toward the entryway.
“By the way, where is your girlfriend?”
Not this shit again.
“I don’t have a girlfriend,” Kyle said, trying to hide his irritation.
“You don’t? Well, who is that pretty girl staying with you?”
“Just a girl, Rosie. Just a girl.”
Rosie smiled and walked over to Zaphod’s cage, retrieving him, then setting him on her shoulder. The rat gave her a little nudge with its nose to greet her. “Have I met her before? She looks familiar.”
“No. You couldn’t have. She’s been staying with me only a few days.”
“Oh.” She gave Zaphod a small pat, and the rat nudged her affectionately in return.
“Well, later, Rosie. I gotta run,” Kyle said abruptly. He was in no mood to chat, no matter how sweet Rosie was. He was still irritated about the girlfriend comment.
“See you, Kyle. By the way, next time you run to the store, can you pick me up some milk?” Rosie called out. “I’ll give you some money. I would do it myself, but I just picked up groceries a couple days ago, and my body is still recovering from it.”
“Sure. I’ll let you know.”
“Thanks, sweetie.”
Kyle left her apartment, shutting the door behind him. He was about to cross the hall to go to his apartment, but he saw that Rosie had forgotten to grab her magazines.
Kyle shoved his cigarette between his lips, then bent over to pick them up. One managed to slip out of his grasp. Cursing at himself for dropping it, he picked up the remaining magazine and set it on top of the others in his hands, then he froze.
Holy motherfucking shit!
Staring at him was Em, right on the cover of the magazine. Not Em, but Emerald. Princess Emerald.
Dropping the other two magazines, Kyle frantically flipped through the magazine, searching for the main feature. “Prince of York Pursues Princess Emerald” read the headline across the article.
Kyle stared at the picture of Em, dumbstruck. There she was, Emerald, dancing with the Prince of York. He gazed at the magazine until his cigarette was gone, then immediately lit another. Kyle knew Em was from the upper levels—that fact she had not hidden from him—but this was insane. It was one thing to have the wealthy daughter of some noble lord in his apartment. It was an entirely different thing to have a royal staying with him, let alone the princess of Arcadia. No wonder she was worried about the authorities finding her. The King was probably on everyone’s ass to find his daughter.
That must be some dye job on her hair, Kyle thought, looking at Emerald’s green hair in the picture. He understood why. Everyone recognized the princess by her green hair.
Kyle finished chain smoking three more cigarettes before he managed to pull himself together. Closing the magazine, he slipped them under Rosie’s door and walked across the hall. Behind that door, the princess of Arcadia was in his apartment, drawing a picture of his band. He was suddenly thinking back on all the crude things he’d said in front of her.
He took a deep breath, trying to calm himself before he freaked out. She is still the same person, dipshit, he scolded himself.
As Kyle entered his apartment, he saw the princess sitting cross-legged, bent over her painting. Emerald heard him, and her face shot up from the painting she was working on, revealing a big smile.
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“Did you have any luck finding a guitar?” she asked, looking achingly hopeful and happy.
“Nope.” Kyle cautiously plopped down across from her, smoking his cigarette.
“Well, that’s good.” She shot up from her spot with a bounce in her step, making her way into the kitchenette.
“Tell me, how is that good?” Kyle called out to her. Stay calm. It’s just Em.
“Because…” She came back from around the corner, holding a long brown package. She ran over excitedly, then set it in his lap. Stunned, Kyle already knew what it was before he opened it.
“No, no, no.” Kyle shook his head in disbelief. “I can’t accept this.”
“You don’t even know what it is. Open it.”
Obliging, Kyle opened the brown package, revealing a black guitar case. A beautiful red electric guitar sat within the folds of the plush cushion of the case. It had to be the most expensive damn guitar he had ever seen. It was the best brand of guitars, and one of the nicest models around.
“I know your old guitar was black, but I thought red suited you…” Emerald began to say, fumbling with her words. Nervously, her eyes darted to his. “Do you like it?”
“Fuck yeah, I love it.” Kyle peered at her, as if it was the first time he was seeing her for who she really was. He then glanced at the guitar, feeling small. “But you really didn’t have to do this for me.”
“Yes, I did. If it weren’t for me, that Jaxx guy wouldn’t have come looking for you in the first place. I felt responsible for your guitar,” she said, trying to convince him. “I had hoped to make it up to you.” Emerald shifted her head shyly, slightly blushing.
“I did what any normal person would have done,” he said, nervously scratching the back of his neck. His eyes soaked in the color of his guitar as he sat admiring the beauty of it. Testing it out, he strummed a few chords. “How did you know what to get? And how the hell did you afford this?”
He cursed the stupidity of his last question as soon as he said it. She was one of the wealthiest people in Arcadia, after all. One might assume that she was carrying a shitload of money on her. But maybe not, since she’d run away.