Plague of Mybyncia (13 page)

Princess Ariana barely offers her a nod,
keeping constant eye contact with Tucker. “He would not tell me
much, said ‘it was not a princess’s place.’ Now I can see why…” she
glances over to Pratt. “He did not want me to see what he is
capable of.”

“Think he might spill more now that he knows
you know?” I ask.

“Possibly,” she shrugs. “I do not really know
him anymore. But,” and now she considers, “we could always try. I
can speak with him in his cell… see if I can find anything
out.”

“Absolutely not,” the queen shakes her
head.

“If I can redeem us for the hostility we have
shown, it is the least I can do.”

“And what do you hope to accomplish?”

“If Blovid returns or any more Arizals come
seeking shelter, I want to make sure they are welcomed in safety.
We cannot have another incident like last night.”

“Perio and the Muskos are in
my
custody.”

“And if they escape?”

“Are you insinuating my prison is far from
impenetrable?”

“I am insinuating that he is smart, mother.
And ruthless,” the princess sighs, attempting to make her point
clear. “Captivity for Perio is a
challenge
.”

“Then maybe a talk isn’t the best thing,”
Clarence strums his fingers on the coral table. “Don’t want to rile
him up.”

“He will be riled regardless. He is already
concocting an escape—I am sure of it. Whether by force or
manipulation.”

“Then he is more perilous than originally
thought. You will not be speaking with him. I will
not
have
you endangered again.”

“I am probably the safest person to
send.”

“And how is that?”

The princess sighs, crimson rising to her
cheeks again. “Because he will not hurt me.”

“Perio may still be in love with you,” the
queen admonishes, “but that does not guarantee your safety.”

“I thought you said your prison was
impenetrable?”

“Ariana…”

“He will not lie to me. He will answer
honestly, in hopes of winning me back. He only wants me to
understand.”

The queen inhales and for a few moments, it’s
quiet. Finally, after holding a sturdy stare with her daughter, she
starts again. “You will go with a fleet of guards.”

“No,” Princess Ariana immediately shakes her
head, “he will not speak with an audience.”

“He seemed comfortable with it last night,”
Reid adds to the conversation for the first time. I glance at him,
trying not to get stuck in his stare but as usual, I falter. My
body heats, my stomach doing some sort of flip thing until I force
myself to focus on the princess again.

“Not in front of the guards, at least,” she
clarifies.

“I will not have you alone with him.”

“I will not be alone—I will have Fallon,” she
offers me a hopeful, requesting smile.

“Me?”

“He had no real interaction with you. He
knows the males,” she gestures down the table, “and of course,
Pratt. He will be less inclined to confess his goals in their
presence.”

“He wants to
kill
me.”

“His focus will be deterred if I am speaking
with him. He will remain silent with the guards or males. I would
need a female with me, one he won’t really take much notice
of…”

“Then how about Salva?” the queen interjects.
“If I am going to consent to this, I want to make sure that you are
protected, should something occur.”

“Fallon can be armed.”

“But why me?”

Princess Ariana turns to me with a heavy
expression. “You are smart. You will not fall victim to his
manipulations.”

Reid shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his
mouth one hard line. He’s not happy with this at all.

“So?” the princess looks to me with hope.

I shrug, feeling completely cornered.
“Anything I can do to help, I guess.”

“Good,” Princess Ariana smiles. “We will
arrange a visit for later today.”

“If I did not know any better,” the queen
picks up her Glippis heart again, “I would assume you were after
your sisters’ seat.”

“Hardly,” the princess laughs, picking up her
bowl of Jiji, “although, I could educate both on handling foreign
diplomacy better. Eat up,” she glances around the table. “You will
need your strength.”

“For?” Pratt asks.

“After breakfast, my mother has decided that
Maris and Qippert will be teaching you about our marine lifestyle.
Maris is our head of guards for the Northern Shore.”

“Cool!” Pratt says, digging into the
Jiji.

“Like the Stancimises?” I ask.

“Oh,” Princess Ariana grins mysteriously,
“they are just the beginning. But please, finish your Jiji. You
will need your strength for today’s lessons. Oh and, small word of
advice…” she leans into the table, “when you ride the Millix, hold
on
tight
.”

“You know,” Jace thinks aloud, scratching his
chin, “the North Shore is a lot nicer without all the dead
Vermix.”

The sun sits high in the cloudless sky,
warming the sand and grey limestone walls as a cool breeze rustles
the nearby shrubbery. In his true form, Qippert keeps to the
water’s edge, speaking quietly with a mayan while the rest of us
wait here, on the outskirts of the sparse palms. Pratt exhales,
leaning against one of the trees with Mae while Reid stands with
Tucker and the Rogues some feet away, arms crossed and chatting.
Jace paces between us, stretching as he walks back and forth.

“Or mayans trying to kill us,” I cross my
arms, “or being attacked in general.”

“Exactly,” he nods, scanning the beach with a
deep inhale. He hooks his hands on his hips. “It’s refreshing.”

“What is?” Pratt meanders over with Mae on
her tail. “I’m tired. Are they going to start this thing or what?
I’m burning up in this suit.”

“Easy there, little Roguetta,” Jace laughs.
“We’re not going anywhere.”

“Actually, we are,” Reid approaches,
motioning to where Qippert and the mayan wave us over, “they’re
calling us back.”

After heading down to the shore, we fashion
ourselves into a semi-circle, enclosing Qippert and the head of the
Northern Guard against the water’s edge. She’s bulkier than the
other mayans with wide, broad shoulders and short magenta hair that
doesn’t reach her ears. Standing taller than Qippert, she looks
over us as he clasps his talons.

“You have met two Stancimises—Gala and
Mimi—but there are several other marine creatures to be aware of.
Maris and I will be instructing you on the sea life pertinent to
the success of Mybyncia’s social climate. Now pay attention—there
is a lot to go over. Maris?” he turns to her.

Stepping forward, she scans us before facing
the sapphire waters again. With a deep bellow, she calls out in her
native tongue, her musical voice projecting far into the blue
distance. It’s loud and lovely, rounding off gently towards the
end. Afterwards, she turns back to us, her face impassive.

“I have called for Shaya, my Millix. Princess
Ariana, Salva… many others prefer the strength and size of the
Stancimis. I do not doubt their ability or loyalty but when it
comes to companions, I chose my Millix for her speed and
intelligence. She understands what I need before I know it myself.
She is my other half, my protector. When you bond with a Millix, it
is for life.”

A spot ripples in the water behind her, a
pool of bubbles rising to the surface. Suddenly, a small oval head
emerges, followed by a long, narrow neck and at around six feet,
the neck widens into a huge body with large, flat fins, its entire
surface covered in bright, periwinkle scales. It’s like an
underwater Brontosaurus, and like the Stancimis, has giant red eyes
sitting back in its reptilian face.

The Millix gives a cry of its own and with
her tailfin she glides closer to the water’s edge. Shaya lowers her
rounded head to Maris, purring as she receives her master’s touch.
Maris, in turn, responds softly to the sea creature, the two
enjoying a private moment and suddenly, I feel like I’m intruding.
After a minute, Maris faces us again.

“She understands you are here to learn, not
to harm me, and so, she has spared your lives. When you meet a
bonded Millix, you will need to explain what reason you have in
approaching them. Otherwise, they will assume the worst—that you
are there to hurt them or their master.”

Werzo raises his hand. “How?”

“It is a delicate process…” Maris begins,
“one you will need to practice. You must learn to communicate on a
separate level,” she taps her head. “One of the minds.”

“Are you talking about telepathy?” I ask.

“It is similar, yes. Dofinikes are able to
pick up this language quickly—they share an analogous method in
their culture. You will have to train yourselves,” she focuses on
me, narrowing her eyes as if suddenly realizing something.
“
You
will pick it up quicker.”

“Why her?” Werzo frowns.

“Oh, you thought you’d be head of the class?”
Jace laughs.

“You will
all
need to work at this. It
is not simple. And if you are to visit Mybyncia frequently, it is a
necessity. It is your way of declaring yourselves Arizals and of
protecting yourself in these waters,” she gestures to it. “Now,”
she inhales, “you must learn to send your Millix waves of thought;
show them pictures of what you intend as soon as you come upon
them.”

“What if we come across them by accident?”
Mae squeaks.

“Transfer your ignorance of the encounter.
If, for some reason, they still sense hostility, send them images
of Shaya, of me or the queen. They will understand you are Arizals
if you have nothing to hide. The Millix is not greedy to kill—only
to protect. Once the threat is eliminated, they will leave you in
peace.”

“Any advice if they start to attack?” Werzo
winces as Shaya moves closer.

Maris turns to him. “Let them win. If you
fight, you will only be prolonging your death.”

“That’s not really what I—”

“I will be riding Shaya,” Maris speaks over
him, “but she has called her sisters so you may learn how to ride
them. How to communicate with them. Unlike the Stancimis, the
Millix only allows one rider—it goes back to the bond—so you will
each practice with your own.”

“And you sure they know we’re friendly?” Mae
asks warily.

“They have been informed,” Maris nods.

“What’s it like?” Reid eyes Shaya. “When we
speak with them… do we hear their response? Do we see it?”

“Yes,” Maris nods again, “open your mind, be
receiving and you will understand everything.”

“Well how do we ride them?” Tucker asks.

“A demonstration?” Maris nods to Qippert who
mirrors the gesture.

Springing from the sand, she lands perfectly
on the junction of Shaya’s back and neck, the Millix purring at her
arrival. Gripping the two nubs protruding on either side of Shaya’s
neck, Maris hooks her legs beneath the Millix’s fins. “I was told
Princess Ariana advised you to hold tight,” she waits a minute.
“Hold
tighter
.”

And they’re gone.

Submerged into the water in a flash, I missed
it. And so did everyone else, apparently. They’re all looking
around, turning to Qippert who hides an impish grin.

“Is she coming back?” Pratt finally asks.

“You would not expect her to leave, would
you?”

Suddenly, a few yards out, Maris and Shaya
reemerge, followed by eight additional long periwinkle necks. They
swim toward us, Pratt and Mae tensing next to me as Werzo
physically retreats. Once all nine Millix approach the water’s
edge, Maris looks down at us expectantly.

“Fallon. You first.”

“Um…” I laugh, eyeing the size of the
creature. “Not sure I can just leap on like you.”

Maris turns, exchanging a musical melody with
the nearest Millix. It whistles in response and moves closer,
nearly breaching its entire mass on the sand. I glance at Maris who
simply waits.

Think of peaceful images…

After retrieving and applying my headgear, I
walk slowly towards the Millix, painting my mind in things I want
her to see. Us together in the water—traveling alongside Maris and
Shaya; and riding Mimi to the Musko lair last night as we went to
save Pratt. This must be enough to show I’m an ally. Still hesitant
as I’m nearly upon her, I throw one her one last image.

Us in the future, assuming a future bond.

At this, she lowers her neck completely,
resting it on the sand so I can climb on easier. I throw my leg
over her scaly neck, positioning myself as Maris does, with my legs
dangling on her sides, below her fins. Gripping the nubs on her
neck, I send her a final message.

Thank you.

“What’s her name?” I ask as she lifts her
head again, rising high into the air.

“Ask her,” Maris says.

I look back to the Millix and placing my hand
on the base of her neck, send the question in my mind.

I’m Fallon
.
What do I call
you?

It comes to me like a light in my head.

Lalu
.

Thank you, Lalu.

“Reid, Tucker,” Maris indicates the two on
either side of Lalu, “you next.”

After applying their headgear, both approach
wearily, hesitant like me. They’re concentrating—probably sending
them their own images and messages and after a few minutes, both
Millix lower their heads like Lalu did for me. Reid and Tucker hop
on, each stroking the thick neck in front of them.

Maris has the rest of our group mount the
remaining Millix, Mae and Werzo having the most difficulty.
Eventually Mae ascends but Werzo’s Millix watches with untrusting
red eyes as he approaches. Unlike the rest of us, he still tries to
communicate verbally.

“Easy, now,
easy
…” he says, lowering
his hands.

“She cannot understand you,” Maris advises,
“you must
show
her you mean no harm.”