Ansel turned to Myles with a penetrating gaze.
“Did you read it?”
“Me?” Myles appeared surprised as he handed Ansel a sealed envelope. “No, sir. It’s sealed.”
“Good. Then no one will know its contents.” Without warning, the note burst into flames in Ansel’s hand. He hoped he had not betrayed his condition by using his left hand, but he knew Myles to be remarkably astute—a vital quality for the kind of work Myles engaged in.
“You will not consider her proposal… at all? Perhaps the time is ripe for a second uprising… perhaps a new path is possible.”
The flames die down, leaving no ashes in Ansel’s palm.
“Of course, anything is possible, but I’ve lost my interest in the game. Perhaps you’ve forgotten I stopped playing a long time ago.”
An image of the magnificent indigo bunting flashed through Ansel’s mind. Another birthday. Another year older.
“I haven’t forgotten. But Ansel, the humans need help. Your help… your talents… before time runs out—”
“We don’t discuss that here, and we won’t be making speculations.” Ansel closed the window curtains with a snap of his fingers. “The humans are capable without my help.”
Myles grimaced. “Don’t you think that’s wishful thinking? Without Sumrectian powers, we don’t stand a chance of finding our way home. I don’t understand why you are so adamant… to oblige… especially after all Vance has done to you…”
At that instant, the room grew cold. Very cold.
“That’s private matter between the Atma and me, of which you cannot fully understand. Myles, you’ve said enough.” Ansel did not raise his voice, but an uncharacteristic irritation seeped into his tone. The door to the guest room flew open; he was done with the conversation.
“Well, I guess your mind is made up.” Myles backed away toward the door. “On a different note,”—he chuckled nervously at his own pun—“the Vidra360 landed at Chesterfield twenty minutes ago.”
Ansel gave a nod of acknowledgement. “Thank you for the updates. I will be in touch with Delia soon. Good day.” His electric blue eyes followed the young man out of the room. Myles was right about at least one thing: Time was running out.
And frankly, he could not wait.
Chapter 3
“THE SEQUENCE OF STEPS you take determines the hallway you enter. It works like a password.” Delia took her time scaling the floating stairs. Sometimes she climbed two steps in one stride, sometimes three.
Kai and Dawn trailed behind the old Sumrect, careful to copy her exact steps.
“Rooms on the second floor are only accessible by ascending an exact number of stairs in the correct order,” Delia said.
“Try remembering twenty different combinations! When I first came to Chesterfield, I often ended up in random hallways because I would mess up the step patterns,” Kai said.
“How long have you been at Chesterfield?”
“Ever since we became trapped in Fors.”
“Kai was only five when he joined me,” Delia recollected. She now stood before a bright entrance way that had magically materialized at the top of the staircase.
He was the same age as Henry when our parents left, Dawn thought.
“During the last uprising, Sumrects burned down the entire town where I was from and killed everybody I knew, including my parents.”
Another tragedy. Were his parents Pathfinders?
“I’m sorry to hear that,” Dawn said softly.
Kai shrugged and avoided her gaze. “Happened a long time ago. Ansel saved my life… He brought me to Chesterfield, where I’ve been ever since. If it wasn’t for him, I probably wouldn’t be talking with you right now.”
His comment caught her off guard. The Sumrect he described was incongruent with the tales told of him at Crimson Estate. Could it be that not all Sumrects were murderers? Could it be that repeated falsehoods were made into truths?
She joined Delia and Kai at the top step.
“No doors.” Delia gestured to the long hallway they now entered. “You must be purposeful in your intent to arrive at your destination.”
A hologram screen dropped from the ceiling. Delia stared unblinking at the blank screen until a list began to appear, one word at a time. The entire list was in English…
Library
Guest Room
Art Studio
Music Room
… except for the last two words.
Praedean Rudio
“Only those who know of its existence have access to Praedean Rudio.” Delia glanced back at Dawn and stepped aside. “At Ansel’s request. Go on.”
“Me?” Dawn pointed tentatively at herself.
“Don’t be shy now. Ansel would not have allowed just anyone into this room.”
Skeptical, Dawn brought her index finger gingerly to the words Praedean Rudio. Seconds later, a plain wooden door appeared to their immediate right. It opened without assistance to a white flurry of snow and a deluge of early morning light.
As she walked through the doorway, she realized they were no longer inside Chesterfield House. Rows of pines towered over them. Shimmering snow covered the ground. Not far away rose a familiar wooden structure which she had cleaned countless times.
The stable!
“Welcome to Crimson Estate,” Delia said.
Indeed, further to the west, Dawn recognized the intimidating, unmistakable, obsidian glass structure Vance called home. Even though she felt neither the freezing December wind nor the stinging wet slush in her shoes, she still shivered.
This is the execution site.
Suddenly, from the corner of her eye, she caught sight of a ruddy-cheeked boy emerging from the stable carrying two steel buckets.
“Henry!”
She sprinted toward her brother, the massive knot in her gut loosening with every stride. He’s alive.
“Henry! It’s me, Dawn!”
But the boy’s frown remained frozen above his focused eyes while he trudged on in the snow.
“He can’t hear you!” Kai called from behind.
“Henry!”
The boy kept on, absorbed in his own thoughts. Snow collected on his light brown hair. Dawn slowed to a stop and glanced down at her burlap outfit, as dry as ever. Although ankle deep in snow, her toes were warm, toasty even.
Kai ran up to her, panting. “We are not in his reality.”
“What is this place?” She rubbed her eyes as she watched Henry disappear into the house.
“A parallel reality superimposed upon this one.”
“Come again?”
“Everything you see is happening in real time.” Delia caught up to them at last. “But instead of being participants in the reality before us, we are merely observers. You can see Henry, but he can’t see or hear you.”
“Does that mean Henry was just now carrying buckets from the stable?”
“Yes. Ansel thought you might be worried about your brother, so he asked us to show you this particular creation of his.”
Another considerate gesture on his part. Ansel’s actions thus far did not match the image she forged of him through narratives gathered at Crimson the past year.
“You mean, he keeps surveillance on Vance from his own home?”
“Precautions,” Delia said grimly, starting back toward the forest. “Not so much keeping surveillance on Vance as watching over the workers. It was never his plan to keep the human immigrants trapped in this reality.”
“How did he create all of this? I mean, how can he just access a whole other reality any time he wants?”
When Delia spoke, Dawn could hear the pride in her voice. “The how of Ansel Cassadian has evaded understanding, even among our kind. Aside from his father, Artheastus, no other Sumrect has been able to manipulate portals to other realms and realities like Ansel.”
“His father?”
“You didn’t know? Ansel’s father rules Panatomius, realm of the Sumrects,” Kai
chimed.
“I was Vance and Ansel’s nanny.”
Dawn’s jaw dropped. She struggled to imagine the Cassadians as children.
“Sumrects value power above all else, especially innate power. There is no equality among us Sumrects. Our fates are predetermined from birth. Those genetically more powerful rule over those who are weak—a guiding principle behind Vance’s regime.”
“Works in our favor, doesn’t it?” In kicking the fake snow, Kai produced a loud squeak with his shoe that made Delia jump. “Sorry,” he muttered when Delia shot him an angry stare.
“Go on, Delia,” urged Dawn, intrigued by a history she still knew very little of.
“Genetic power passes down through generations, but anomalies do occur, for better or worse. Ansel was one such case. Twenty years ago, he became the second Sumrect ever to have turned indigo. And not perished. A first born and more powerful than anything we have ever seen, he became the obvious heir to Panatomius. You can only imagine the adulation that accompanied him growing up.”
“Since his birth, it was always Ansel this, Ansel that, and for good reason… There seemed to be something incorruptible in him, something quite distinct from other Sumrects. Maybe that’s why he was entrusted with such great power.”
They arrived at the edge of the forest.
“Then what happened?” Dawn said.
“What do you mean?”
“Why did Vance exile him to Phyon?”
Delia fell silent.
“Why doesn’t he use his supposedly great powers to help the humans?”
Still no response.
“Or does he enjoy watching us suffer too?” Dawn scoffed.
Kai shook his head. “He obviously doesn’t enjoy sitting back and watching Vance oppress the humans. How sadistic do you think he is?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised—”
“Dawn!” Kai ran a hand through his spikey hair. “If you have to know, there’s a pact—Oof!”
A chunk of snow flew into his mouth, causing him to choke. Delia waved a finger at him. She must not approve of whatever Kai was trying to tell me, Dawn thought. I better not press the matter.
“Forgive me, dear. There is information we can’t share with you right now. I’m sure one day, Ansel will tell you himself.”
✽✽✽
The wild winter wind sent snow tumbling down from bare branches onto Myles’s head. Annoyed and cold, he brushed the snow away. He tried wiggling his toes in his boots, but they had lost all sensation. By the time Vance shows up, I will be toeless, he thought. He had been awaiting Vance’s arrival for more than an hour in the Estate forest. In this bone-numbing temperature, an hour felt like an eternity.
Then, gold flashed between tree trunks. Vance appeared, baring his lustrous white teeth in a broad smile, sending out puffs of his breath into the frosty air. Myles snapped to attention.
“It’s a tad chilly out, isn’t it? Been waiting long?” A golden cloak fluttered behind Vance.
“N-No, sir. J-Just got h-here.” Myles could not stop his teeth from chattering. He noticed Vance was wearing a pair of golden gloves to match.
A high-pitched laugh escaped Vance. “Good! I’m right on time then.” With a flick of his hand, fire exploded between their feet and gathered into a ball of flames.
“Thank you, sir,” he said, grateful for the sudden warmth.
Not one to chit chat, Vance dived straight to the point. “You have information for me.”
“Yes, I do. The Vidra360 landed safely at Chesterfield. A switch must have been performed at the execution site because the body found had been dead days before. Dawn Rene is still alive.” Myles’s voice carried no emotion; he merely reported the facts.
Vance yawned. He raised a leather glove and examined it lazily in the sun. “Tell me something I don’t already know. Alive or dead, Dawn is the least of my worries. She’s only human after all.”
Myles cleared his throat. “Gail Thornton has been organizing a resistance right under your nose inside Crimson Estate.”
“You insult me with useless material!” Vance narrowed his eyes at Myles. “No one fools the Atma and gets away with it. No one!” He spat on the snow.
“No, sir.”
“Humans do not concern me… You met with Ansel last night, didn’t you?”
Ansel was right. Vance has eyes everywhere.
“Yes, sir.” Without prompting, Myles recounted his interaction with Ansel. When he finished, Vance shook his head.
“What do you mean he burned the note? Ansel didn’t read it?”
“Not at all. He said he wasn’t interested in her plans… wasn’t interested in resistance or pathfinding of any sort… claimed he was done playing the game. He really doesn’t seem to care much about Gail’s intentions.”
“He didn’t say a single word about wanting to help the humans?”
Myles looked down at the fire and pulled at the tips of his wool gloves. That puzzles me too.
“There was nobody else in the room. He could’ve read the note… said something about the Pathfinders. I even asked him multiple times…”
“Could he really have given up?” Vance paced around the ball of fire, talking more to himself than to Myles. “Is it because of the spell? Or is it…?”
“Atma, if I may express an opinion—”
“Go ahead.”
“You have the advantage. Ansel has all to lose and none to gain should he even attempt to overthrow you. He understands the stakes are too high, and however much we dislike him, we have to admit… He’s no idiot.”
The fire burned brighter as Vance pulled the golden cape around himself and stood straighter.
“You are right, human. He’s not an idiot… Still, he may be impulsive… highly unpredictable at times. And if something were to happen…”
“Like what? You’ve got him within the palm of your hands. One wrong move, and he will face dire consequences. Plus…” Myles paused, staring directly into Vance’s honey-colored eyes. “I believe the Ansel you are dealing with today is a completely different creature than that threatening Sumrect who thwarted you eleven years ago—”
A golden hand closed around Myles’s throat, strangling him. When Vance spoke, his voice hovered just above a whisper. “While Ansel trusts you as his confidant, you and your family shall remain under my protection. They will not be harmed in any way, by anyone. That protection will last as long as you keep providing me with the information I seek… as long as Ansel keeps his trust in you. Do we have an understanding?”
Struggling to breathe, Myles blinked once.
“We do.”
✽✽✽
“That dress sure beats your bear costume,” Kai teased when Dawn entered the dining room in a yellow, sleeveless summer dress.
Earlier, Delia had brought a stack of colorful dresses to the guest room and reminded Dawn, in not-so-subtle fashion, that Crimson attire would not be tolerated at Chesterfield. Since the Sumrects outlawed dresses, Dawn had worn nothing but burlap pants and shirts for the past eleven years. The sudden change made her feel quite self-conscious.
“My, oh, my!” Delia sat back in her chair. “You look absolutely gorgeous! I see you picked my favorite.”
“Dress shopping, Delia? That’s what you were doing yesterday? I wish Ansel would let me in on things occasionally.” Kai stabbed his fork into a plate of ravioli, splattering sauce onto his shirt.
“I’m sorry, Kai, but I just didn’t think you cared to join me.” Delia laughed at the look of bewilderment on Dawn’s face. “I went dress shopping for you yesterday after receiving Ansel’s message. He said you probably won’t have time to pack… you know, after the execution. He also said Crimson attire was so visually offensive, he couldn’t stand seeing it here at Chesterfield too.”
“I’m all for earthy tones but definitely not what you were wearing. I could have sworn I saw a bear in the Vidra360.” Kai furiously rubbed a napkin over the sauce on his shirt. “Drats. It
’s not coming off.”
For the first time in days, Dawn smiled.
“Ignore him. It has been a while since any female presence graced Chesterfield, so he has forgotten how to behave in front of someone as lovely as yourself—”
“Delia! Stop, please!” Kai groaned, jabbing at the ravioli again.
“Thank you for the dresses… I have never worn such pretty clothes,” Dawn said.
“My pleasure, dear. Now, come join us for some dinner!”
Wide-eyed, Dawn hesitated. Humans never sat with Sumrects at the same table, let alone shared any meals with them.
“What’s the matter? You don’t like ravioli?” Kai looked up from his plate.
“It’s just… Are you sure it’s… appropriate?”
He stared at her for a few seconds and then burst out laughing. “For heaven’s sake! Were you born in a different century? Look, I’m a human, and I dine with Delia every day!”
“Have a seat, dear.” Delia gave her an encouraging grin. “We are all equal at Chesterfield.”
Equal. The concept was as foreign to Dawn as the dress she wore.
“Thank you,” she said as she took a seat across from Kai.
“Don’t thank us. I’m ashamed of the way Sumrects have treated humans over there at Tempeia.” There was bitter distaste in Delia’s tone. “Ansel would have never allowed such behavior had he…” She sighed and looked away.
For the next minute, all was quiet except for the sound of silver against china.
“Where are the other workers?” Dawn said after a while.
“They are home.” Kai shrugged.
“You mean, the workers don’t live here?”
Crimson workers were not allowed to go home except on holidays, but Dawn did not mind. Her home had long been destroyed anyway.
“Of course not! Once their work is finished, they head home to their families. Only Kai and I live here full time. Oh, and Ansel… when he’s not roaming about doing God knows what.”
“They do things so backwards at Crimson Estate. How did you end up there?” Kai asked.
“Well,” Dawn began, parting the ravioli with her fork, “my parents left Fors hours before the Sumrects destroyed the Source. I was eight. My brother was five. We waited for them to return, but they never did.”
The Eye of Elektron: A Clean Urban Fantasy (The Sumrectian Series Book 1) Page 3