Coronation: A Kid Sensation Novel (Kid Sensation #5) (22 page)

On the other side of the doors was an expansive hallway, perhaps fifteen feet wide and a hundred yards long. Walking down the corridor with the queen, it became clear right away that this area was designed to impress.

Lining the walls were a number of portraits in gilded frames, each depicting a different individual. They were painted in rich, vibrant colors and were far more lifelike than anything I’d ever seen back home. Even my untrained eye could tell that this was exceptional artwork.

High above us, suspended from the forty-foot ceiling, were a dozen opulent chandeliers, spaced evenly down the length of the hallway. At various intervals, art niches carved into the walls held what I assumed were rare and valuable items: ceremonial weapons, hand-crafted chalices, and more. The walls on both sides also housed numerous ornate doors that presumably opened up into lavishly decorated rooms and suites. Not to be outdone by the walls or ceiling, the floor was also crafted to be eye-catching, as it seemed to be tiled with some kind of exotic, multi-colored stone.

Queen Dornoccia said nothing initially as we leisurely strolled down the hallway. After a moment, I realized what she was doing; our languid, deliberate pace had been intentional, her way of allowing me an opportunity to observe my surroundings.

“So, what do you think of Caeles?” she asked after a few moments.

“It’s different,” I replied, eliciting a short burst of laughter from her.

“A diplomatic way of saying you’re not impressed,” she surmised.

“No, it’s far more advanced, but there are cultural nuances that I haven’t grasped yet – not to mention everything that goes with being a royal.”

“It does get to be a burden,” she agreed, “this royal blood we’re born with. Makes the thought of being a commoner rather appealing.”

“The grass is always greener on the other side.”

She gave me an odd look, leading me to explain what the idiom meant.

“How true,” she said when I’d finished. “The philosophers of your planet are wise.”

“Thanks,” I said, not bothering to mention that what I’d said was a basic axiom as far as I was concerned.

“So,” she said, turning serious, “you didn’t know who I was when you rescued me this morning, did you?”

“No, Your Majesty.”

“Then why did you do it?”

“It’s what I’ve been trained to do – to use my abilities to help people.”

“I hear you did something similar with the crew on the ship that brought you here, that you saved all of them as well.”

“I saved all that I could,” I corrected, remembering that the initial explosion had killed some of the crew.

“And it didn’t matter to you that they weren’t royals? That you were putting your life at risk for commoners?”

I shook my head. “I guess I just don’t think in those terms. All I thought about was the fact that there were people in danger and I was in a position to help.”

“There aren’t many royals who would have done what you did – even for me, and even if they’d known who I was. They certainly wouldn’t have done it for Al’si.”

“She’s a commoner?” I guessed.

“Yes, but her family has served mine for generations. She’s incredibly loyal and even more competent, so I made her my
rtasna
– my assistant. It’s a position usually reserved for members of the royal family and as a result my decision has bred some resentment, but there’s no one more capable.”

I nodded as she spoke, her words bringing to mind Berran and his intense devotion to the House Nonpareil.

“Well,” I said, “the important thing is that you both eventually made it here safe and sound.”

“Agreed,” she said. “Of course, the safety inspectors are in a bind now, since they cleared my ship after the last stop.”

“Safety inspectors?”

“Yes,” she said emphatically. “Didn’t your ship pass inspection before you left Earth?”

Frankly speaking, I had no clue and admitted that fact. Back home, we have the Federal Aviation Administration that’s responsible for aircraft safety and such. I doubt they had inspected my spaceship prior to departure for Caeles, but I didn’t truthfully know whether anyone had. That was Berran’s department, I guess.

“So,” the queen continued, “do you think it coincidental that both of our ships suffered similar mishaps upon arriving at Caeles?”

What I thought was that the Caelesian version of the FAA needed a complete overhaul, but I kept that opinion to myself.

“I tend to find it more suspicious than coincidental,” I replied.

“As do I. Unfortunately, investigations of both crashes have yielded no clues. I don’t suppose you have any theories?”

I shook my head. “None. However, I do have a question, if I may?”

“Go right ahead.”

“The ship that you and Al’si escaped in was rather” – I searched for the right word – “
spartan
compared to the lifeboat that I had.”

Queen Dornoccia laughed. “You want to know why we were roughing it when you found us.”

“Basically.”

“That’s easy enough. We were in a different part of the vessel when the ship started going down. My first inclination was to get to my suite, which can double as an escape ship and also has special equipment and provisions for emergencies. Al’si thought we needed to head to the nearest escape vessel, and she was right. We never would have made it to my quarters. We barely made it to the ship that was closest, as evidenced by Al’si’s injury. Even then, we only survived because of you.”

I was sorely tempted to put on a Southern drawl and say, “Aw shucks, ma’am – tweren’t nuthin’,” but instead said something about simply being in the right place at the right time.

“Regardless,” the queen said, entering one of the doors on our right, “I’m glad you were there.”

From that point, we discussed a wide variety of topics – everything from Caelesian cuisine to sports back on Earth. Queen Dornoccia was a delight: full of a lifetime of wisdom, but still able to relate to people far younger than herself. Shrewd and perceptive, almost nothing got past her, whether it was word or deed. And, although I could sense a no-nonsense attitude in her when it came to matters of import, she clearly had a great sense of humor, and I could see why she and my great-grandfather were such close cronies. In short, she met all the touchstones for being a great leader, but still managed to have the common touch.

During the time that we talked, we also continued strolling, with the queen leading me through various rooms and corridors – and even a few secret passages. The guards must have cleared this entire part of the building, because we never saw another person.

At some point, we found ourselves in what appeared to be a sitting room, with antique chairs and sofas littered about. Queen Dornoccia headed to a corner of the room where the tiled floor was bare – the only area not covered by a rug, a loveseat, an ottoman, or what have you. I didn’t see what she did, but a number of thick floor tiles began unexpectedly sliding quietly to the side, revealing a staircase going down.

The queen began descending the stairs, and I followed. Above and behind me, the heavy tiles began shifting silently back into place. However, just before they settled back into their original positions and enclosed us in darkness, a tall and narrow rectangle of light began to shine from the bottom of the stairs. As I looked, it grew wider, and a moment later I realized what I was seeing was a door opening into a well-illuminated room. Queen Dornoccia stepped inside, then closed the door as I came in behind her.

“Well, what do you think?” she asked.

I looked around, too stunned to speak. We were in a room about the size of a modest house – maybe two thousand square feet. At that point, however, all comparisons to modesty came to an abrupt end – the room was filled with riches!

There were ornamented chests filled with rare jewels, crates stuffed with precious metals, baskets overflowing with priceless gems. I saw a large Caelesian bird of some sort carved from a single block of gleaming crystal. A finely-wrought statue of an ancient king with baguettes for eyes stood in a corner. An endless assortment of chokers, brooches, and bracelets lay draped across tabletops and poked out of jewelry cases. In short, the place was stuffed with a vast array of items constituting an incalculable amount of wealth.

“This is your treasure room?” I asked when I finally found my tongue.

“One of them,” Queen Dornoccia replied from beside me. “Here, I want to show you something.”

I looked towards her and noticed that she was holding a gem-encrusted jewelry box. Carefully, she lifted the lid, revealing its contents: a bronze-colored miniature trident. It was only about a foot long, with a shaft that was roughly an inch in diameter; the three-pronged tip was about as wide as my palm.

“Go on. Take it,” the queen urged me.

Doing as commanded, I gingerly lifted the trident from the box. It wasn’t particularly heavy, but felt solid in my hand. Unlike many of the other items in the room, it wasn’t plastered with jewels, gilded, or emblazoned in any way. And yet, there was an undeniable beauty in the simplicity of its design and construction.

“It’s the Telumem,” the queen said, in answer to my unasked question. “A ceremonial weapon that belonged to your namesake, the original J’h’dgo. It’s a rare relic in that it’s one of the few possessions of his that actually still exists. Legend says it’s imbued with some of his power.”

“It’s lovely,” I said sincerely, and then prepared to put it back.

“Keep it,” the queen said, closing the jewelry box and setting it aside.

I stared at her in disbelief, thinking that she had to be joking. Emotionally, however, I picked up nothing but candor and honesty from her.

“Are you sure?” I asked.

“Consider it an order,” she said with a smile.

To emphasize that she meant what she said, she removed the scarf she was wearing and – catching me off-guard – tied it around my waist. She then took the Telumem from my hand and tucked it into the makeshift belt I now wore.

She took a step back, looked me over, and declared, “Perfect.”

Unsure of the protocol here, I bowed my head slightly and said, “Thank you, Your Majesty.”

“My pleasure,” she said. “Unfortunately, while I’ve enjoyed chatting with you, we have pressing business this evening that we must attend to.”

I let out a nigh-painful sigh. “Yes, Your Highness. The
prexetus
.”

“It’s a long walk back to the ballroom,” she said, giving me a frank look. “I’m familiar with some of your abilities – from both the reports I’ve received as well as my own experience. Is there any way I could impose on you to…?”

She trailed off, but I understood what she was asking.

“Of course,” I said, and then teleported us back to the top of the stairwell overlooking the ballroom.

Motioning for me to go with her, Queen Dornoccia walked towards the top step but didn’t descend. Instead, she stood there quietly, waiting for her reappearance to be noted. It didn’t take long, and soon a surge of silence began wafting through the crowd, like ripples on a pond after a rock is tossed in. Within a minute of our arrival, there was complete silence in the room.

Queen Dornoccia slowly scanned the crowd, a somber look on her face, and then began speaking. As with Vicra the night before, she must have somehow been linked into a megaphone, because her voice boomed in the enclosed space.

“CLOSE RELATIVES AND DISTANT RELATIONS. GUESTS. FRIENDS. WE HAVE COME TOGETHER AT THIS TIME TO ADHERE TO AN ANCIENT RITE – THE
PREXETUS
. WE HAVE AMONG US ONE WHO…”

My thoughts began to drift and I only half-listened to what the queen was saying. (Also, the emotional state of the crowd was building to a fever pitch, and I was having to put more effort into shutting it out.) I hadn’t been exceptionally nervous about the
prexetus
before, but now that the moment was here I was getting butterflies.

What if I failed this thing, whatever it was? What would happen to my family in the long run? What would happen to
me
?

Easy. Take a deep breath
.

Panicking wouldn’t help anyone. Besides, I didn’t know enough about what was coming to
be
panicked. For all I knew, the
prexetus
might consist of playing a game of jacks, or doing tricks with a yo-yo. The thought of that almost made me laugh out loud, and did a lot to help me relax.

Suddenly, there was a collective gasp from the crowd; empathically, I felt a crazy spike of consolidated emotion from those gathered – a mixture of confusion, surprise, and disbelief for the most part.

Frowning, I tuned back in to the queen, who glanced my way for a second, giving me a wily smile. She then turned back to the crowd and continued speaking.

“AND SO, BY ROYAL DECREE, I HEREBY DECLARE PRINCE J’H’DGO TO HAVE SUCCESSFULLY COMPLETED THE
PREXETUS
AND TO BE FULLY QUALIFIED TO TAKE HIS PLACE AMONG THE MECTUN.”

There was stunned silence for a moment, and then the place broke out in complete pandemonium. Riotous shouting – some of it cheers, a good chunk of it catcalls – erupted from every corner. The cacophony was accompanied by pushing and shoving as a good portion of those gathered pressed towards the stairwell en masse. A few foolhardy fellows also dashed forward, as if intending to bum-rush the steps, but the guards weren’t having it; a few plasma rifles pointed at heads and torsos brought an end to that nonsense, although the room continued to be the sight of bedlam.

Even Indigo wasn’t immune, telepathically screaming,

Like everyone else, I had been caught flatfooted by Queen Dornoccia’s announcement. She had basically dispensed with the
prexetus
. I stood there dumbfounded, positive that I must have misheard, until Indigo’s continuous telepathic shouting brought me back to myself.

I mentally told my grandmother to calm down and then turned to the queen, who seemed to be taking an almost perverse delight in the uproar she had created.

I leaned towards her and asked, “Can you do that?”

“I just did,” she said saucily.