Royals Rise

by K. Manna

  “Um, sure. I guess.”

  Sir Felix continued to try and distract me with small talk as I followed him upstairs, but it didn’t work. Finally, we reached a door that had a sign on the front that read “DO NOT ENTER,” and underneath it in smaller lettering, “UNLESS DR. AVERY APPROVES.” Beneath that sign hung a picture of a man, presumably Dr. Avery. He looked like a doctor: old and dull. He had gray hair, a gap-toothed smile, and a pointy nose that held up a pair of black, thick-rimmed eyeglasses.

  How can a doctor not realize that combing his hair over his bald spot isn’t fooling anyone? I hate when they do that. Don’t men understand how ridiculous they look? And the bow tie. What a dork.

  After Sir Felix knocked firmly, Dr. Avery opened the door, looking identical to his picture. He had the same checkered bow tie, the same glasses, and the same ridiculous hairdo.

  “Well, hello, Sir Felix. And you must be Margo.” Dr. Avery smiled at me, giving me a close look at the gap in his teeth.

  I could probably fit the tip of my pinky between his front teeth.

  I gave him a shy smile and nodded politely.

  “Yes, this is Margo Selks. Dr. Avery, what time should I return for Margo?” Sir Felix asked.

  “Oh, let’s see here.” Dr. Avery looked down at his wrist, but there was no watch. “I think an hour should be fine.”

  “Don’t you scare her, now. You be nice to her, or else …” Sir Felix joked.

  “I will try my best,” Dr. Avery laughed.

  Sir Felix started off down the hallway as Dr. Avery gestured for me to come into the room, closing the door behind us. The room looked more like a scientist’s laboratory than a doctor’s office. It was big with high ceilings, but I still felt kind of claustrophobic underneath all of the bright lights and amid the expensive-looking machines that lined the walls. Each one was spaced a comfortable distance from the next, and each was separated by a thick glass partition. I recognized the machine in front of me: it was the scanner that they used the day I arrived, or at least a similar model. There was no mistaking its spaceship-like design. Next to that was something I could only describe as looking like a tanning bed. The only comfortable-looking places to sit were the two black leather chairs that sat near the far wall. Salon hair dryers, or at least that was what they looked like, were connected to each chair. Many flat screens and different oddly shaped equipment stood along the wall.

  “Margo, please have a seat in one of these chairs and tell me,” Dr. Avery adjusted his glasses while looking at some papers, “do you have any other magical powers that I should know about?” He looked up at me with a sly grin.

  Is he being serious or sarcastic?

  “Um, what do you mean?” I bit the inside of my lip.

  Dr. Avery set the papers down. “Well, your scan shows hot spots, high concentrations of energy, in both of your hands and in your head region. The electronic reader was able to give me a clear report on the hot spots located in your hands, but not the one in your head. I have to admit that I am a bit perplexed as to why the diagnosis was incomplete, and that is why your presence is required.”

  What the heck is he talking about? All of this sounds like jibber-jabber to me.

  “Look, I didn’t even believe that I could heal until today, really. I have no clue what could be going on in my head. I can’t move objects with my mind. I’m not psychic. I don’t have a photographic memory. And really, I’m not even that smart. I don’t know what else to say.” I looked around the room cluelessly.

  “Since we don’t know exactly what we are looking for, we will have to go through a process of elimination. I would like you to stay in your seat for right now. We will start by scanning your brain with a spiffy new scanner that I received only weeks ago. I am really excited to use it.” Dr. Avery pointed to the salon hair dryer equipment behind my chair.

  “So, what do you need me to do?” I asked.

  “Lie back, relax, and make yourself comfortable; this may take a while.” Dr. Avery reclined the chair for me. “This scanner will come over your head. All I need you to do is hold as still as possible. All right?”

  “I will do my best,” I said, trying to get comfortable.

  I closed my eyes and took a deep breath.

  This is weird. What is going on in my noggin? Am I a freak or something? Even the high-tech scanner couldn’t figure me out.

  My arms hung at my sides, but my hands fumbled nervously for some sort of distraction. I felt the hard stone in my pants pocket.

  Oh, my stone! Eli, where are you? What are you doing right now? Probably having fun without me.

  I clenched the stone inside my pocket, and it warmed my palm, calming my nerves. Typing sounds could be heard and then were followed by beeping sounds. Dr. Avery walked over to me and placed a stiff sponge under my head and neck while readjusting the scanner.

  “Why are you tense?” he asked.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Well, how would you feel if someone was picking apart your brain or telling you there is something going on in your head that you had no clue about?”

  Dr. Avery sighed. “Yes, I suppose you are right. I am sure I would be tense, too, but do try and relax.”

  I tried again to relax as the doctor lowered the machine over my head. Thankfully the scanner didn’t cover my entire face, because I might have had a claustrophobic attack. And it was noisy, too. Staring at my shoes was annoying enough, but not being able to hear myself think over that hair dryer scanner was unbearable. It seemed to last forever, so I was relieved when the loud noise stopped.

  “We are finished with that part of the scan. Now …” Dr. Avery started to say.

  I interrupted. “What do you mean, that part of the scan? That felt like forever. How much more scanning is there?”

  Dr. Avery replied, “Margo, I have been looking over your scan, but still the scanner and I are unable to figure out this little maze of yours.” He tapped the top of my head. “I would like to do one more scan before you leave today. It should only take about a half an hour. Please be patient. I will call Sir Felix and let him know that we will need a bit more time.”

  Okay, I guess I don’t really have a say in this, do I?

  My neck felt stiff from sitting in one position for so long. The chair wasn’t exactly ergonomic, and the stiff cushion underneath me wasn’t much help either. It figures that the geniuses who built the thing never bothered to sit in it.

  Dr. Avery went into another room and returned with a small bottle in his hand.

  “Margo, we will be doing something a little different this time. I am going to place this open bottle under your nose.” He held up an amber-colored bottle. “This will make you fall asleep, fall into a deep sleep, for a short period of time. This bottle here,” Dr. Avery pulled a clear bottle from his pocket, “will wake you as soon as we have finished. This process will help me to scan different portions of your brain.”

  All right, let’s get this over with already.

  When he placed the amber bottle under my nose, it took only a few seconds for a strong burning sensation to run through my nostrils and sting my eyes. “That’s some strong shhhh …”

  Everything went black as night.

  A potent lemony scent filled the air. My eyes fluttered open and began to focus. Dr. Avery stood beside me with the clear bottle under my nose, gap-toothed smile beaming down at me. Remnants of the dream, the same one I’d had before, filled my head: icy winter turning into spring in a blink, then the man in the ridiculous wig walking toward me with a flower.

  Groggily, I asked, “How did it go? What did you find?”

  Another male voice answered, “Well, I found that you like orange flowers, but not my ugly wig.”

  I turned my head and found the Zyon sitting in the chair beside me with a huge, hot smirk on his face.

  OMG! What is this? What’s going o
n here? How do they know that I had the dream again, the one where the Zyon picks a flower for me?

  Heat rushed up my neck and over my face.

  “Wh-what? What are you talking about?” I stuttered.

  The Zyon uncrossed his legs. “Your dream, of course.”

  “How would you know what I dream?” I asked, confused.

  The Zyon turned around and pointed to the scanners that sat behind our chairs. “These two scanners are connected in a way that I can see and hear what you are dreaming. It’s almost like watching the screen, but even better, especially when I happen to be in the dream.”

  I sat up. “You’re kidding me, right? That’s not possible.”

  “Everything and anything is possible. So what’s wrong with my wig? Why don’t you like it?” the Zyon asked jokingly.

  Since I had no control over what he had already seen in my dream, I played his little game and told him the truth. “It’s nappy and ugly. No chick with good taste would be seen with a guy with hair like that.”

  “Oh, is that right?”

  I gave him a quick, honest answer. “Yup.”

  The Zyon stood up and walked toward the door. Before opening it, he looked back at me, said, “Anything for you, Margo. Anything for you,” and winked. Then he turned on his heels and promptly left the room, leaving me a befuddled mess.

  I can’t believe this is happening.

  Later that night, Lottie and I decided to take a moonlight swim in the pool. The temperature dipped after the sun went down, so we had the water all to ourselves. A few of the others passed by on their way to some other part of the palace, but they must not have noticed us quietly splashing in the dark. Before we decided to leave the swim area, we took a dip in the hot tub. It felt so nice and warm that we didn’t want to leave. Our fingertips looked like shriveled prunes by the time we got out. With our hair still dripping and teeth chattering, we rushed back to our room, arm in arm, trying to keep each other warm.

  “I still can’t believe that we both ate our own large pizza and dessert,” Lottie said, opening the door to our room.

  “I know. We better be careful or we might end up looking like Munchin’ Martha from that movie Ex-Squeeze Me.”

  Lottie gave a little laugh. “That movie is hilarious. And don’t be mean. Munchin’ Martha is awesome.”

  “I know she is. She rocks. I’m not being mean when I say that. I really don’t care how big she is, but I wouldn’t want to let myself get that big, is all. See, she doesn’t care what people think of her. She’s all confident and proud of her size, which is totally awesome. But if it were me, I would be really self-conscious. I guess, I’m just not that strong.”

  “I know what you mean,” Lottie said. “My sister is a bigger girl, and people always make rude comments about her weight, even our own family. It pisses me off how people can be so judgmental. My sister gets really upset, so I get a little sensitive about that subject.”

  I felt guilty for making the comment. “Oh, I’m sorry, Lottie. I didn’t mean it in a bad way. Just joking around, ya know?”

  “I know. I know. Don’t worry about it. I’m just thinking about my sister. I miss her.” Lottie looked out the window at the dark, star-filled sky. “You can take a shower first. I’m gonna sit here for a bit and listen to some music. Go shave your hairy legs, girl!”

  While we were swimming, Lottie had taken pleasure in pointing out all of the stray hairs that I’d missed when shaving. So the first thing I did when entering the bathroom was draw a bath to shave my legs. While rummaging through the bathroom closet, I found a few different shaving creams with delicious scents: Citrus Orangerageous, Cherry Blooming Blossoms, and Creamiest of Coconut.

  “Creamiest of Coconut it is,” I whispered, taking a whiff.

  Sitting on the edge of the tub, I lathered my legs and started shaving.

  Ow, something burns.

  Blood started to appear above the knobby bone near the outside of my ankle, dripping down into the water.

  “Aw, dammit. Holy shit, there’s a big chunk of skin missing,” I complained.

  Seeing the blood and the huge piece of skin missing made the pain more intense for some reason.

  Wow, that’s a pretty big gouge in my leg.

  The shaver still had a chunk of skin embedded between the blades.

  “Gross. That is nasty.”

  Lottie opened the door. “Is everything okay in here?”

  “No, look at this.” I shoved the razor in her face.

  Lottie looked at me totally confused. “What?”

  “Skin! My skin.” I raised my voice, turning my bloody ankle for her to see.

  “Oh, gross. Here, let me get a towel so I can put pressure on it and stop the bleeding.”

  “No, it burns,” I snapped.

  “Well, you have to do something. You’re bleeding all over,” Lottie snapped back.

  I turned the faucet back on and slowly put my ankle under the running water. Shaving cream and blood washed down the drain. After a few minutes, Lottie turned the water off and, as soon as she did, the wound began to weep blood again. Lottie held out a folded washcloth in her hand. “Okay, come here. If you’re not going to do it, then I will. You have to put pressure on it to stop the bleeding.”

  “It hurts,” I whined.

  Lottie snapped with annoyance, “Quit being a cry baby. Didn’t you say that you healed your own bruise today? Just try and heal it yourself then.”

  Lottie’s voice rang in my ears over and over again.

  Heal it then. Heal it then. Heal it then.

  My teeth were grinding together now from the horrible stinging sensation that ran through my ankle. Blood filled the wound and started to drip down the side of my leg again.

  All right, I’m gonna do this. It’s all up to me. I can do this. Focus, dammit!

  I took a deep breath, closing my eyes tightly, and gripped my ankle with both hands. Pain seared through my leg as the healing heat built; it felt like my flesh was burning. I envisioned my purple healing light spreading like a gust of wind around my ankle and seeping into the bloody wound. Lottie didn’t say a word. Silence filled the bathroom.

  The intense feeling of heat left my leg just as fast as it came, and I pulled my sweaty palms away from my ankle.

  Lottie gasped, “OMG, Margo, you did it!” She knelt down next to the tub and ran her finger over the now scar-free area of skin. “I can’t believe it. Not a single mark.”

  Lottie wet the washcloth and wiped away the leftover blood smeared on my leg.

  “Thanks, Lottie. Sorry I freaked out.” I brushed my finger across the smooth, wet skin on my ankle. Even then, I still couldn’t believe that I had actually done it.

  Lottie smiled. “You are a little freak. You know that? But I guess I will let it slide this one time,” she teased.

  CHAPTER SEVEN

  PURPLE LIGHT, IGNITE!

  Orange flames crackled in front of me. Blazing heat reached out to cover me like a warm, fuzzy blanket. Bonfire smoke clung to my hair and clothes. It would linger long after the fire had gone out, as it always did. My eyes were completely transfixed by the dancing flames. Something large and dark began to slowly rise from the shadows behind the fire. The figure grew larger and larger, moving closer to the fire with arms raised high above its head.

  What the hell is that? A hungry bear come to eat me for dinner?

  “You should see the look on your face. You look so scared, you might crap your pants.” Eli laughed. But I sure wasn’t laughing.

  “Oh my god, I thought you were a bear,” I sighed with relief. “Don’t scare me like that. By the way, if I did crap my pants, it would all be your fault. You would have to clean it up. Ha-ha.” Now I laughed.

  Eli began to walk around the fire. “No way, I wouldn’t touch it. That would be your problem to d
eal with.” He sat down next to me, his shoulder brushing mine.

  Together we sat quietly listening to the hiss and pop of the open fire, content to simply watch the flames. Being careful not to be noticed, I gave Eli a sidelong glance and was surprised to catch him looking back.

  Why is he staring at me? Eli, quit looking at me. I look like a mess.

  Eli nudged me with his knee and asked, “Do you know why I came out here?”

  Still pretending to look at the fire, I asked, “No, why?”

  Eli nudged me again. “Because I have something for you. Here.” In his outstretched hand was a shiny little box with a tiny ribbon.

  I looked at him and then at the box in his hand. For some reason I felt shy and giddy.

  Why do I feel like this? Eli is only my best friend, my hot best friend. But who cares? It’s not like he knows my true feelings, my crush. Or does he? No, no, there’s no way he could know. I always play it cool, don’t I?

  “Why did you get me something?” I asked, reaching for the box, my fingers brushing against his warm skin.

  “Because I’m a nice guy. Isn’t that what all the ladies want?” Eli teased.

  I shrugged my shoulders. “Yeah, at least that’s what I want, but for some reason it seems like most girls are attracted to jerks.”

  “You are totally right. Sometimes when I stop liking a girl, I will act like a jerk to get her away from me. But some chicks don’t get the hint, and they end up liking me even more. I don’t get it.” Eli laughed.

  Well, I would still like you if you were a jerk to me. Oh, shut up, Margo! Quit thinking like some spineless groupie. You have more self-respect than that.

  “Come on, open it. I wanna see if you like it,” Eli said.

  “Okay, okay.” I untied the ribbon and opened the box. It was a necklace, sparkling in the golden light of the fire.

  Oh, cute! The pendant reads Go-Go.

  “So, do you like it?” Eli asked.

  Holding the necklace in my hand, I smiled. “Yes, it’s awesome, Eli. Thank you.”