by A. J. Ross
He entered the palace escorted by one of the guards, doing his best to hide just how nervous he was. Surviving this encounter would be a whole new milestone in itself. He wondered if Grisian would ask him awkward questions over dinner, or if anything would come up about the Kayorian ship scheduled to depart from Graiis in a couple of days.
He was led into a banqueting room where a few other Griician women, including Kiina, were seated and waiting. The room was large with vaulted ceilings. The lights hanging from the ceiling came down like falling stars not fortunate enough to touch ground, suspended in mid-air. There were shiny black wood pillars trimmed in gold at each corner of the room. Hanging from high poles around the perimeter were several curtains alternating in color: red, gold, red, gold. The gold ones were embroidered with Griician signs that seemed to leap from them when the light touched at just the right angle. The red ones silently boasted only their radiance. Like deoxygenated blood the color was dark and rich. There was a cream-colored satin cloth on the long table in the center of the room. Each place was set with every necessary tool for eating, and there were candles in the center of it. Each of the small candles were aglow in golden kinetic centerpieces dancing endlessly for their audience. Constantly in motion, they would light up the etched crystal glasses on the table making them sparkle and shine.
When Lincoln entered the room, all eyes locked onto him. He smiled nervously and took a seat. All four women were silent, each had a white glow in her chest. He wanted to talk to Kiina, but he was afraid. Time and distance had a way of destroying familiarity when it came to people, and he wasn’t sure if it was the same for the Grii. He didn’t want to offend her by taking any liberties, yet he wanted to express his gratitude. He felt if she had not recognized him, Grisian wouldn’t have chosen him.
Several moments later, Grisian entered with Braii. She wore her hair up into a braided bun. Her strapless dress was long, red, and hung lazily around the curves of her hips as she walked. She wore a large gold necklace made of several beaded strings at different lengths, which poured down over the exposed skin of her upper chest. There were thick gold bracelets on her arms. One at each wrist, and one right beneath the shoulder of her left arm. Her earrings were gold with small hints of color in the beading. The dress was split to just above the knee, and there was a gold-colored fabric beneath it. Her lips were a deep red, and her face was stone.
Lincoln felt his heart race. It was the same feeling he would have whenever he saw her. His chest tightened with a need that had grown far more intense due to his experience. She was beautiful. He felt like Grisian had just offered him a gift he would soon unwrap, and it was the most beautiful package he had ever seen. He could not take his eyes off her.
He approached her and took her hand, bringing it to his lips he gently kissed it. She looked up at him briefly and saw the hints of burning desire in his eyes. She took her hand away from him.
She wanted to be happy about finally being able to move into the human colonies, but she wasn’t prepared to give her heart away. She was conflicted. Lincoln’s eyes were deep pools of pain and secrets that kept her from discovering what sort of person he had really grown up to be. Sometimes she would see hints of the boy who used to gawk at her whenever she exited the city gates. She believed the Lincoln she once knew still existed, but was buried inside the body of a stranger. Hidden away in a mess of circumstantial issues which had forced a child into assuming the role of a man.
He sat across from her at the table. The Grii engaged in polite conversation with him, attempting casual interaction. He tried his best to stay involved, grateful for their inclusion, and in need of their approval. He tried to be the proper guest, but he could not completely pull his attention away from Braii. His eyes would always find their way back to her between the insubstantial question and answer he carried on with the Grii. In fact, they took turns exchanging glances, though neither possessed the courage to view the other completely.
After dinner Lincoln stood on the balcony with Braii. Grisian had granted him some time alone with her before the wedding. He had already approved his request for a house, provided it be built in the residences nearest to the palace. Lincoln was pleased with the prospect of moving into his own place, but he couldn’t help but worry about his mother. He knew how much she struggled with him around, and he couldn’t imagine how hard it would be for her if he wasn’t there. He needed to talk to Grisian about perhaps moving his mother into his new home. She was the only family he had on Graiis, and he had to take care of her.
“What are you thinking about?” Braii asked him.
He looked at her. He hadn’t realized the deep thought he was engaged in had shown up on his face. “Nothing,” he replied.
“Is it about the ship from Kayora? What did the council decide to do with it?”
Her questions caught Lincoln off guard. He had been foolish to assume she was unaware of all that was happening. Of course she knew.
He hesitated, scrambling his mind to find the easiest way to end the conversation without seeming evasive. He recalled his conversation with Raymond and his confrontation with Penny. “It will be sent back in a couple days,” he replied.
She nodded but didn’t speak. Her eyes searched his face for a hint of his true feelings. She could hear it in his tone. She asked him simply, “Do you agree?”
He shrugged his shoulders. “It doesn’t matter what I think. It doesn’t matter what I want.”
“Why are you saying that?”
“Because, all things considered . . . it’s just impossible. It can’t be done. There’s no way to save them and protect our planet. Right now, we have to do what’s best for us.”
He looked into Braii’s face. He could see the judgment; the disappointment in her eyes, and it made him defensive. He felt compelled to justify his actions. “What am I supposed to do?” he asked, hostility seeping from his words. “Grab a Fiie, storm the Castle, lead Rahilius off as my prisoner and return to Graiis a hero?”
“Yes,” she replied adamantly. She didn’t believe in his sardonic exclamation, but she did believe he was hiding behind a fear almost as irrational as the words he had just spoken. That moment, in her mind, was the great divide. It separated Lincoln Wolfe the boy, from Lincoln Wolfe the man. The man was a victim of his own mind. A prisoner to the limitations and boundaries he had convinced himself were impenetrable. His desires and struggles in life had weakened him, and it was disappointing.
He took a deep breath. He had never been angry with her before, and it felt strange. He composed himself. “Listen,” he said calmly, “this is not for you to worry about. We’re getting married soon. Let’s just focus on that,” he said softly, his eyes sincere and pleading. “And forget about the rest of the world.”
Not for a second did she truly believe he was in agreement with the decision that had been made regarding the ship. His indifference was clearly forced. As far as the reason why he was unwilling to make a stand, there was no way for her to know, and he seemed too distressed to discuss it further.
She decided to change the subject. “You know when you were younger, one day you came to the palace. You stood outside my window and called to me, but it wasn’t my name. What was it you called me?” Her eyes shone bright with curiosity. “Do you remember?”
Color rushed to Lincoln's cheeks. He hung his head in embarrassment. He knew exactly what it was. He remembered the day he was named Swordsman for the Nation. He had stood outside of the palace below her balcony in the cool night air calling out . . . “S-Se-Solii” he said. “It was Se-Solii.”
“The second sun?” she asked through her smile. “Why?”
“I don’t know,” he shrugged awkwardly. “You looked like it to me, like the second sun.” His eyes met hers. “Beautiful, soft, and warm.”
Now it was Braii’s turn to blush. She had wrongly assumed his heaviness was a result of his many losses. Now she felt he must have always been that way. Everything was significant to him. She fel
t intimidated yet again by his desire for her. It was so complete. Even if she was not marrying the man of her dreams, she could say without reservation she was marrying a man who truly loved her, and always had. She was the woman of his dreams, and she decided that was enough.
She leaned over to kiss his cheek, and he quickly turned his face so his lips met hers. She stepped back surprised by what he had done. She looked into his dark-green, unapologetic eyes. They lingered on her lips, obviously dissatisfied with the brevity of their kiss, yet he controlled himself, choosing instead to suffer the moment. He took her in his arms, and she cradled his face in her hands.
“Three days,” he said softly.
“Three days,” she replied.
They stood face to face with their noses and foreheads touching. He took a deep breath, inhaling the light buttery scent of her silky skin, basking in the moment.
When he came home that night, his mother was up waiting for him. She was bursting with excitement. “How did it go?”
Lincoln’s face was beaming with joy. He kissed his mother on her cheek. “Go to bed mom. We’ll talk in the morning.”
She smiled affectionately. “Ohhh this is sooo exciting. We’ll talk about it over breakfast. Oh, and Penny came by shortly after you left. She seemed upset. You should probably give her a call.”
Lincoln nodded, “I will,” although he had no intention to. He was happy, and he wasn’t going to let Penny ruin his night.
FIVE
The House of Rahilius
Lincoln breathed deeply. The world was black under the covers of his eyelids, and his subconscious granted him the peace to sleep without the intrusion of thoughts or dreams. A cool breeze flowed through the cracked window lulling him ever deeper into his early morning slumber. His body was heavy against the mattress, and he remained unaware his light snoring disrupted the silence.
He began to dream of constant banging. Almost real as it echoed in his ears, and he toggled between consciousness and unconsciousness until his mind finally accepted the disruption. It was real.
“Wolfe.” He heard his name being called along with the knocking. It was Logan’s voice.
His eyes popped open and he leapt from the bed, racing to the door.
“What is it?” he asked as he snatched open the door. He was already in a panic.
Logan stood panting, leaning up against the doorway. “He killed him,” he said between breaths. “Grisian is dead. Rahilius . . . he killed him.”
Lincoln’s face went blank. He gave his mind a moment to process Logan’s words. He wasn’t sure if he was actually awake or still dreaming. “What? What happened?” he asked.
“Man, I don’t know. I’m heading to see Raymond now. I thought you’d want to know.”
“I’m coming with you,” Lincoln said, running to his bedroom to dress. He threw on a t-shirt and jeans, grabbed a jacket from the closet, and followed Logan out the door.
They ran the whole way to the council building, moving down the dirt path through the cool, thick, darkness of night. They could not see farther than one foot in any direction, and kept track of each other merely from the sound of the others footsteps and panting. There was no discussion. Neither of them expressed any need of rest. They just kept running.
When they arrived at the building, there wasn’t a soul in sight. There were no lights and no movement.
“Does he know yet?” Lincoln asked Logan.
“I don’t know, I assumed he would have known first.”
“Who told you about it?”
“I was at the base with Shang when Kiina told him.”
Lincoln sighed. He gazed around the lot, squinting in the darkness, searching for anything that might offer some form of distraction.
“Well, let’s go in and wait for him,” Logan suggested. “I’m sure he’ll be here the minute he finds out.”
The two boys went into the building. They went into the main room where the council would meet. Logan felt along the wall until he found the light switch and turned it on.
At the front of the table, Raymond sat with a glass in his hand and a bottle of alcohol next to it. His eyes adjusted to the bright light that had interrupted his comforting darkness, and then they focused on Lincoln. “You,” he said. His low tone was threatening and filled with loathing.
Lincoln glanced at Logan. He was certain Raymond was not talking to him.
“You,” Raymond repeated as he stood from his chair. He raced over to Lincoln, grabbed him by his collar and slammed his back against the wall. “Are you crazy?” he shouted. “You selfish little bastard. Do you realize what you’ve done?”
Logan sprang into action. He snatched Raymond away from Lincoln. The two boys shared the same confusion, but Raymond was furious. He struggled briefly to break loose from Logan’s hold, but realized it was pointless. He was no match. He began to regain his composure.
Lincoln’s face was red, and he tried desperately to remember what he may have done to incite Raymond to attack him.
“What did you do Wolfe?” Logan asked. Then he turned to Raymond. “What did he do?”
“He knows exactly what he did,” Raymond spat. He pointed a finger at Lincoln, “This little smart aleck. But you didn’t think it through, did you?” He was practically yelling. “BUT I TOLD YOU WOLFE! I told you bad things would happen if you tried to defy Rahilius. Now all of Graiis is in danger.”
“WHAT DID I DO?” Lincoln shouted. He had grown frustrated and irritated with Raymond’s blatant attacks and accusations.
Raymond lunged at him again, but Logan restrained him.
“Raymond!” Logan shouted. “That’s enough. Don’t talk to him. Talk to me. What happened? What . . . did . . . he . . . do?”
Raymond took a deep breath. He glared at Lincoln over the rims of his glasses. “That idiot sent the ship back to Kayora with NO ONE ON BOARD!”
Lincoln’s brow furrowed. He was even more confused. Both Raymond and Logan were looking at him for an explanation, but he had none. “I didn’t send it back,” he said quietly. He searched his mind to make sure of the accuracy of his words. He had not sent the ship back. In fact, he was scheduled to do it that day. He looked up at Raymond. “I was scheduled to send it back today. It’s . . . it’s gone?”
“Don’t play dumb with me,” Raymond retorted. “It was your name on the clearance log. You cleared it for departure. You had to have known there was no one on board.”
Lincoln shook his head. He knew at least part of what Raymond was saying was true, but he didn’t understand how.
“Rahilius was furious,” Raymond continued. “He’s declared War on Graiis. Grisian is dead, so there is no leader.” Raymond sat back down in his seat. He seemed to have calmed down, at least a little bit. “We’ve sent word to the Kaziik to return from battle on Ai’sha,” he said. “She will likely take power until the new Grisian comes of age.”
Lincoln was overwhelmed. His mind filled with questions he had absolutely no answer for. Who sent the ship back? Why would someone send it back with no one on board? How had they managed to use his clearance? Why had Rahilius chosen to kill Grisian, his friend, over the issue? Had Rahilius really declared WAR? Lincoln needed to figure out exactly what happened. Either way, there was no escaping the unrest that was to come. He turned to Logan, “I’m gonna find out what happened, but first I need to go to the palace. I’m gonna get Braii.”
As he turned to leave, he couldn’t help but notice the small yet immediate exchange of intense glances between Raymond and Logan. It made his blood run cold. He spun back around to face the two men. “What?” he asked cautiously. His eyes met Logan’s.
Logan took a deep breath, and his eyes were filled with regret. He stated plainly, “Rahilius took her.”
Lincoln went numb. He felt like he was in a dream. A nightmare. One he was unable to wake up from. This can’t be happening. His imagination began to run wild with thoughts of Braii being snatched from her bedroom and carried off onto a Kayor
ian ship. He imagined Rahilius dissecting her as he would other humans he used as subjects for his experiments.
He felt sick to his stomach, and dizzy from the room which had begun to spin around him. Grabbing his now aching chest he heaved breath after breath, leaning against the table to balance himself as his legs weakened beneath him. It was like his entire world had started to crumble. Fate was so cruel to have placed everything in the palms of his hands, only to deliberately and systematically take it all away. How could this happen? How could he have slept so peacefully hours earlier, only to wake up to the most hideous of nightmares? Everything was backward.
After several moments he managed to calm himself down. Sitting motionless with his arms hanging heavily at his sides, his eyes glazed, staring off into the far distance. Into space and into the future. He focused on the vision that had begun to manifest itself within his mind. The future was whispering her secrets in his ear and he was listening. Far beyond the darkness of his desperation and hopelessness, he saw a faint glow. There was hope. He envisioned a reality where he alone possessed the power to defy all odds, bring Braii home to him, and bring peace to Graiis. This was the twinkling light in the distance, yet bright enough to drive him to set his life on a course he may never return from. It was then he decided to go to Kayora.
Braii awoke in a strange place. It was eerily silent. It was dark, moist, and had a stench so powerful she felt she would vomit at her first conscious inhalation. It was the stench of rotting flesh, and judging from the intensity, it was relatively close. Her eyes moved around the room, struggling to adjust to the darkness. The last thing she could recall was the needle plunging into her neck sending her into the deepest sleep she had ever experienced. Her mouth felt dry, her head hurt, and she felt dizzy. Her brain commanded her body to stand, but it would not obey.