by Phil Stern
Across the street, Lydia spied a flock of pigeons on a rooftop. She briefly considered asking them to soil Tenen’s handsome military uniform, but everyone knew of her ability, and thus, would immediately discern the source of Tenen’s embarrassment. While she had no intention of actually marrying him, no matter what the King said, childish outbursts wouldn’t help matters any.
There! Sliding forward, holding very still, Lydia sensed Anson on the periphery of her mental envelope. Yes, it was the same telepathic signature she’d first encountered in the Throne Hall, somehow even stronger than before. Though casualties had been high, the mysterious stranger had obviously survived the Outlands fighting. Sighing in relief, Lydia found herself reveling in the mental touch, letting it carefully settle in the forefront of her own consciousness.
“Is something the matter, my dear?” Leaning over, Tenen spoke directly in her ear.
“No. Not at all.” Smiling mechanically, she then spitefully held a puzzled finger to pursed lips. “Why, what could possibly mar such a happy occasion as being in your Lordship’s company?”
“In time, my dear.” Rolling his eyes, Tenen turned his attention back to the reviewing area. “In time, you will learn to appreciate the wisdom of our match.”
Never, she silently replied. Better to steal a boat and sail off into the endless, stormy ocean than suffer being Tenen’s wife.
Catching her breath she leaned forward once more, for Anson himself now marched before the reviewing stand, taking his place in the rear ranks of assembled men.
While some officer read a dry proclamation and gave a flag to the King, she couldn’t take her eyes from Anson’s tall, strong form. Surely, in the heat of battle, or during the march back down to Brenlaw, he could have slipped away! Returning to his home village, no one would ever be the wiser. That would have been so much safer! After all, masking himself within the capital city must not be easy.
But return he did, now confidently staring up at her in the stands. As for his innate power, Anson was projecting directly to her, in a manner specifically attuned to her own mind. As confident a telepath as he obviously was, this commoner youth had no fear of discovery on the part of either the royals or Demons surely in close attendance. It was a breathtaking display of mental might and skill.
Hesitating only a moment, Lydia allowed herself to respond, her own cognitive energy mingling with his. They were flirting, touching even, right out in the open! It was an intoxicating experience, a display of sensitivity and talent utterly validating the promise of their initial contact. Across the way, amid thousands of people, she saw him smile and nod at the reviewing stand in silent recognition.
Soon it was all over. Making a sharp right face with the rest of his unit, Anson marched off, his mental signature gradually receding as the physical distance grew longer between them.
“Well, my dear.” Smirking, Tenen stroked her cheek. “Are you all ready for tonight’s festivities?”
What! Instantly, she grew incensed. “Tenen, there is NO chance...”
“The feast, my dear.” In simply odious fashion, the prince laughed at her discomfort. “I’m referring to the grand celebration on the fairgrounds. Though, if there was a more personal type of festivity you’d rather attend...”
“Will the army be there?” she demanded. “At the feast, I mean?”
“The men?” Surprised, Tenen shrugged. “Many are breaking camp and heading home this afternoon. There will be some, though, attending their own celebration on the opposite side of the fields tonight. Why do you ask?”
“No reason,” she airily replied, peremptorily standing and striding off, leaving Tenen awkwardly facing an empty chair.
***
“Are you really going to marry him?” Belle asked. The two girls stood at the edge of a massive tent on the fairgrounds that evening, watching fellow royals and other dignitaries chat and sip drinks.
“No.” Bitterly, Lydia looked over at her own seat at the raised main table. She’d been placed right beside Tenen, who himself sat in a place of honor next to the King. Still basking in the adulation of his military victory, Tenen was the toast of the royal family.
“Maybe it won’t be so bad?” Smiling, Belle waved at someone across the way. “I mean, Tenen’s cute and all. And he clearly has a future at court. Right?”
“Then you can marry him.”
“Look, I’m just saying...”
“Belle, I’m not marrying anyone I don’t love!” Irritated, Lydia waved off a servant bearing trays of sweets.
A few moments went by. “Any word on your mom?” Belle made a point of keeping her voice low.
“No.” Anxiously, Lydia twisted her dark hair between two fingers. “And I don’t want to talk about it.”
Just then she felt Anson again, tickling the edge of her awareness. He was nearby, letting his presence become known to her. Shaking slightly, she took a long drink of grape juice.
“What is it?” Intently studying her, Belle raised an eyebrow. “You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”
“Well, um, I must leave.” Placing her drink on a table, Lydia lifted up her skirts, quickly walking off.
“Lydia!” Belle called after her. “Where are you going?”
Without answering, Lydia disappeared in the crowd, generally heading in the direction of the woods bordering the fairgrounds.
***
Perno thoughtfully watched Lydia rush from the royal tent, dark hair bouncing urgently about her shoulders.
The plan to vilify Aprina had backfired very badly. In the span of ten minutes Lydia’s mother had somehow managed to kill two of his key operatives and personally humiliate himself. In so doing, she’d also unveiled a previously unknown ability. Rooting out these types of obscure powers among the royal family was his specific responsibility (and now obvious failure), leading to an even greater loss of prestige with the King.
Making matters even worse, his top assassin, sent on campaign to find and kill the Unknown Talent within the army, had failed to report back. Of course, Senter might have eliminated the Talent before suffering some ill-fortune himself. Still, there was no way to know. It was safer to assume the Talent was still alive, and seemingly more dangerous than he’d possibly imagined.
Thus, Perno had personally toured the camps of the returning army, sensing not even a hint of power. So even if the Talent escaped death within the dark forests of the Outlands, he was bright enough to now avoid the capital city. Perhaps there was a list of deserters somewhere he could quietly investigate at a later date.
But for now his curiosity had been piqued. Where was Lydia rushing off to in such ill-disguised haste?
***
Sitting thirty feet up on a stout tree limb, Anson watched the teenage princess come closer. In the gathering twilight she was more beautiful than ever, her power emanating strongly throughout the forest.
Satisfied she hadn’t been followed, Anson easily dropped straight down to the ground, standing tall and unharmed before her.
“By the King!” Surprised and stunned, Lydia briefly recoiled at this seemingly superhuman physical display. “How did you do that?”
“Very easily, my Lady.” Laughing, he lifted and then lowered a medium-sized log by the tree. “My power involves moving objects with my mind.”
“Like the King?”
“Exactly. But I’ve recently learned how to channel power directly through my own body. In this way I can use my mental strength to enhance physical strength.”
“Wow. That’s...amazing.”
“Indeed, my Lady,” Anson replied. “As is your own sensitivity. You are the first to discover who I really am.”
Lydia blushed, not knowing quite what to say. “Well, I...”
Within the brush a feral boar gave out a loud snort, pawing angrily at the ground. Anson instantly touched his sword hilt.
“No! Wait!” Holding out a placating hand, Lydia looked at the thicket behind which the boar was hiding. They both h
eard it moving off.
“My ability,” she quickly explained. “I can talk to animals.” Somehow, spoken out loud, it sounded rather foolish
“Indeed.” Smiling, he advanced a step closer. “That’s a very useful talent, I would imagine.”
Struck by his calm, steady eyes and obvious mental strength, Lydia felt herself blushing. “Anson, is that your name?”
“It is. And you are?”
“Oh, I’m sorry! Lydia.”
Smiling, he nodded in formal greeting. “Princess Lydia.”
“Yes, I’m a princess...but you! I mean, where did you come from?”
Before answering he sat down on the log, motioning for her to join him. Hesitating only a moment, she lightly sat down a few feet away.
“I come from the village of Hylen, my Lady.”
“Yes, I know. I mean, how did you...” Trailing off, she awkwardly indicated his body. “I mean, where did...”
“My mother. Long ago, she knew a prince.”
“Oh.” So Belle had been right about the royal men and their forays among the commoners.
Again, he gave an easy smile. “I’m not a devil, if that’s what you’re thinking.”
“No!” Involuntarily she touched his hand, instantly withdrawing it. “No, I didn’t think that! Not at all. But it must be lonely for you, isn’t it?”
“Sometimes,” he acknowledged. “But it’s been a way of life, ever since I can remember.”
“Staying hidden, you mean?”
“Exactly.”
“So this is the first time you...I mean...”
“This is my first open conversation with another empowered person, yes.” Sighing, Anson looked up, letting the evening wind course over his chiseled features. “It’s a moment I’ve often dreamed about, actually.”
“Wow.” Lydia nervously smoothed her skirt. “I’m honored.”
“But Lydia, you mustn’t tell anybody.” Pausing, he chose his words carefully. “They would kill me if they knew.”
“Kill you?”
“They’ve already tried.” Anson easily recalled Senter’s maniacal glee in the glade, his primal ecstasy at the imposition of pain and death. “They may be uncertain as to my fate, actually. I’d like to keep it that way.”
“Absolutely! Anson, you can...” Now putting a hand firmly on his arm, Lydia was struck by a surge of power flowing directly into her own body. It was different than anything she’d ever experienced before. Letting out a slow breath, she looked once more directly into his gaze, letting her hand remain in place for several moments. “By the King, Anson, your secret is safe with me.”
“Thank you. That means a lot.”
“Sure.” Blushing, she looked down. “I would anyway, but I really wouldn’t want anything to happen to you.”
“Thank you, Lydia.” Nodding, he didn’t look away. “Nor I to you.”
“Anson, they tried to arrest my mother!” Furious, she briefly turned away. “And now she’s ridden off, and I don’t know where. Do you think they may try to kill her as well?”
Very likely, Anson thought. The Network clearly played for keeps. “What did your mother do?”
“Nothing! And now the King wants me to marry Prince Tenen!”
“I see.” Anson drew back slightly. “Do you...”
“No! I hate Tenen!” A tear rolled down one cheek, soon followed by another. “I mean, we’re not to be married for a while. But no, I don’t want any of that!”
“So you wish to escape?” Anson said the words easily, as if an obvious conclusion.
Escape? Why, where would they go? The Kingdom was the only known place in the universe, bordered by the Outlands to the north and west, ocean to the east and south. “You mean, escape the castle? Brenlaw? I don’t understand.”
“We’d have to go farther than that.” Unbidden, three stones rose up from the forest floor, intricately juggling mid-air. “I’m not sure, really. But there must be something else. Some place where the King and his Demons can’t go. Where people like us can live in peace, without fear.”
They both quietly took in the enormity of the concept, soothed by the idea but uncertain of its execution.
“You’re good at that,” she finally said, nodding at the stones.
“I’ve had a lot of practice.” While the rocks continued twirling about, he gently took her hand in his own. They sat that way for several moments, the stones flickering about beside them.
“In this new place, would we be able to marry who we want?” she finally offered, uncomfortably looking away.
“I hope so.” Firmly hold her hand, Anson now let the rocks fall back to earth. “Lydia, the only reason I’m back here, in the capital, is to see you. When we first touched in the Throne Room...”
“I know,” she breathed. “I felt it too.”
“You won’t have to marry Tenen. That I can promise you.”
Here he was, a simple commoner boy, yet she believed Anson with all her heart. Instantly, Lydia felt her spirits lifting. “And my mother?”
“We’ll find her too.”
“How? I don’t even know where she is!”
“We both have talents, and each other.” Squeezing her hand, Anson leaned toward her. “We’ll find a way.”
Pressed close together, on the log in the lonely forest, Lydia felt herself sharing his sudden confidence. “But what of now? The King, and Tenen? What do I tell them? How do I act?”
“Pretend. Go back now, smile and wave. Play the perfect young princess, all set to marry her prince.”
Groaning, she asked a pair of mosquitos to leave them alone. Obligingly, the insects flew off. “But Anson. I don’t want you to think...”
“I know. But don’t worry about that,” he said. “I’m just not certain how we’ll communicate. Getting together like this too often would be very risky.”
“I may have a way.” Looking up, Lydia scanned the evening sky. Seconds later a pigeon came gliding down, landing lightly on her raised finger. “This is Percival.”
“He has a name?” Skeptically, Anson stroked the bird’s head.
“Well, he didn’t, but I just named him,” she explained. Looking into the pigeon’s quizzical gaze, Lydia soon smiled. “Good. Percival will be our messenger. Just look for him.”
“I will.” Anson laughed. “This is all kind of new to me. Other people’s powers, I mean.”
Lydia kissed Percival on the head, the bird flying off. “You’ll get used to it.” Raising an eyebrow, she punched him lightly on the knee. “Mister Lonesome.”
Hardly believing his own pluck, Anson then gently leaned in, kissing her lightly on the lips. It lasted for several moments.
“Wow!” Finally drawing back, her pulse was racing. “I never imagined...why, I could feel all of you, as if our powers were merging!”
“I know.” Gently stroking her hair, he remained close. “I felt it too.”
Nearby, a wolf suddenly howled, followed by a low growl. They both sat up, Lydia looking off in the distance.
“A man is coming.” Concentrating, she received more information. “A man like us, the wolf says.”
Anson frowned. “You mean, someone with power?”
“Yes.” Standing, Lydia looked around, seeing only forest in every direction. “Where will we go?”
“Hmm.” Remaining seated, Anson seemed unconcerned. “I didn’t know animals could sense us that way.”
“Some of them can. But Anson...”
“Cats were always drawn to me,” he mused. “Are cats...”
“Yes, cats are particularly sensitive!” Firmly grabbing his hand, she hauled Anson to his feet. “Come on! We have to hurry.”
But Anson merely hugged her tightly, Lydia’s finery pressed up against his rough commoner garb. “Hold on, my Lady.”
“What? Why, Anson...” Utterly stunned, Lydia watched as the forest floor dropped away beneath them, the two effortlessly rising up through the trees. “We’re flying!”
&nb
sp; “Not really,” he coolly replied. “We’d need wings for that. And feathers, I would imagine.”
They now carefully wound their way through the upper branches of the tallest trees, coming to hover over the woods. Now whisking horizontally just over the treetops, they headed deeper into the woodland.
“Your power.” Her face pressed into his own, she only had to whisper. “I can feel it all around us.”
“Of course. You wouldn’t want me to withdraw it, would you?” Playfully, he allowed them both to drop an inch. Lydia gasped, her arms firmly wrapping around his neck and down onto Anson’s back. “That wouldn’t do, would it?”
“No, it wouldn’t,” she whispered, staring in wonder at the nearly settled sun on the horizon, its final rays bathing the trees in a wondrous light. “By the King, Anson, this is incredible!”
“Yes, it is.”
“And you get to do this all the time?”
“I only started very recently. And I have to be very careful,” Anson laughed. “It’s a little bit of a give away, don’t you think? If anyone should happen to see?”
“Just a little bit,” she agreed, the soft wind pulling Lydia’s dark hair from her face. “But if I had your ability...I mean, there’s nothing I couldn’t do!”
“All in time, Lydia.” They made a sharp left turn, by now having zoomed into the forest a quarter-mile. “I’m heading for the other side of the festival grounds. I’ll put you down by the wood line, and you can just wander back, as if nothing had happened.”
But something had happened, Lydia knew, something that would change her life forever. “That sounds good, Anson.”
Smiling, he hugged her closer, strong arm around her thin waist.
In a rush, it was all over. Carefully landing in a small clearing, he kissed her once more, his power briefly enveloping both of them.
“Have courage,” he whispered, already rising again into the air. “I’ll be back for you soon.” And with that, he was gone.
Later on, Lydia realized she didn’t even remember stumbling from the forest and walking quickly back to the festival tent, arriving from the opposite direction from which she’d left. It was the sight of Tenen, anxiously scanning the crowd, that brought the young princess fully back to reality.