Plague of Mybyncia (20 page)

“Are they…?” Qippert can’t finish his
question.

“They’re doing alright, for now. They’ve been
given Dilly twice an hour. It’s keeping the ailment at bay… but…”
he sighs. “They’ll need a cure.”

“Which is?” I ask.

“Not here, currently,” Clarence glances
behind him. He rubs his hands, turning back to us. “Sampson is
working on it. Come on,” he motions to Maris, “bring her over.”

“Do we know what happened?” I’m at Clarence’s
left side while Qippert keeps to his right, Maris beginning to
twitch awake in his arms.

“Not yet, no,” he shakes his head,
disappointed as well. “We discovered it late this morning. Didn’t
even know something happened until they started showing up.”

“It’s like half the city’s here,” Mae
whispers.

“And the other half’s outside…” Werzo mumbles
to himself.

Clarence ignores him. “Got to hand it to the
Mybyncians. Knew right away it was in the water. Sampson and I
couldn’t peg it until they told us.”

“How’d they find out?” Reid asks.

“The worst cases were exposed longer. Most
Mybyncians live solely in water—makes sense,” he shrugs, shifting
through a thicket of bodies, “but some have a separate space of
air, used for entertaining visitors. Those lucky enough to have
spent the night there were unharmed.”

“Why would they sleep in a room full of air?”
Pratt asks, following Clarence as he moves faster towards the back,
“if they normally…”

“Continued acclimation,” he moves past a
couple leaning on each other, each possessing a look of utter
exhaustion. “If Mybyncians go too long without immersing themselves
in the environment, it’d be much more difficult to handle when the
time comes.”

“But you said only
some
have these air
rooms?” I ask.

“Yes,” he tosses me a wary look. “Many don’t
find it necessary to cater to visitors. That’s why it hit so many
so fast. But we think those who lived closest to where the toxin
was released died
immediately
. Everyone else… it just sort
of took its time,” he arrives at the back wall, stopping to turn to
us. “The longer Mybyncians were in the water, the faster the toxin
spread in their system. Once they realized it slowed in the air,
they either stayed in their visitor’s room or made for the FH.”

“Oh God,” I cup my mouth at the realization,
“so there could still be some people trapped there?”

“Yes,” Sampson grieves, approaching us, “and
without the Dilly. If they were previously exposed, they’re still
infected. Just dying much,
much
slower. Put Maris here,”
Sampson indicates an open space on the floor. Qippert lays her down
with shaking arms, placing her between two of Ariana’s guards who
have just barely begun to darken. Their eyes flutter, trying to see
but only staring up blankly.

“Mallup,” Sampson cups the shoulder of the
rose-haired mayan who was flirting with Reid last night, “please
bring some more Dilly. Quickly.”

“Yes, Fychu,” she takes off through the
tightly-knit herd.

“Well how do we get to them?” I ask. “Those
stuck in their homes?”

“We can’t—not right now,” Clarence huffs,
hands on his hips. “We have to take care of the princesses and
everyone here…” he leans in with a sudden look of dire caution. He
lowers his voice to a warning whisper. “There’s not enough Dilly to
go around and they’ll realize it soon. We’re going to have a worse
panic on our hands than this.”

“Where’s the chancellor?” Reid glances
around.

“That’s another problem…”

“He’s in the prison,” Sampson says with an
even tone. “He was interrogating Perio.”

“No one can get to him,” Queen Ravan appears
behind Sampson. She wears her usual impassive face, but a twinge of
fear and despair creep from the corners of her slanted eyes and
down turned mouth. “I will not allow anyone to risk that plague.
Besides,” she exhales, defeated, “they will die by the time they
reach him.”

“But it only affects Mybyncians,” I say.

“Yes, fortunate for you.”

“No,” I sigh, ignoring her tone. “I’m saying
we
could get him—Chancellor Keller.”

“He will die by the time you bring him
back.”

“Not if we put him in a suit.”

“That is if he is still alive.”

“Isn’t it worth checking?”

“And how do you expect to get into the
prison?”

“I went yesterday with the princess. I’m sure
I can find my way through again.”

Queen Ravan looks over me, unsure. Finally,
after a long minute of consideration, she nods. “The people have an
indissoluble loyalty to the chancellor. They will listen to him,
even ill. It will be the best chance we will have to keep order
when further panic arises,” she looks over me. “I will agree to
this.”

“Will you be able to lead them without our
assistance?” Sampson asks, glancing around the filled hall. “We’ll
need to stay here and keep order.”

“I can do it,” I gulp, suddenly feeling the
pressure I so easily volunteered for.

“There is an escape suit in my room,” the
queen advises, “for emergencies. You will take this to Chancellor
Keller.”

“Yes, your Majesty.”

“When are we going?” Reid asks.

“There’s no time like the present,” Clarence
shrugs as Mallup returns with a bowl of green, mushy weed.

She moves past him and crouches down by
Maris. Pinching her mouth open, Mallup feeds her a few spoonfuls of
the plant. Maris blinks, her eyes clearing as she swallows the
mushy substance.

“Do you need any of us to stay behind?” Werzo
asks. “To help…”

“Administer the Dilly?” Sampson interjects,
“Yes—thank you for volunteering.”

“Yep,” Clarence cups his shoulder, “only need
a team of four or five to retrieve Keller anyway.”

“Pratt, Mae—you stay with Werzo and help
administer the Dilly,” Sampson motions around the room. “Mallup
will help you. The rest of you come with me. We’ll grab the suit
from the queen’s chambers and have you out to get the
chancellor.”

“But I want to help!” Pratt gripes, looking
to me for assistance. “You sure you don’t need an extra hand?”

“We need it
here
,” Sampson says.
“You’d be doing us a great favor.”

Pouting for a few seconds, Pratt finally
gives in. “Alright… but I want to help save someone the next
time.”

“You got it,” I wink, following Sampson’s
lead as Reid, Tucker, Jace and Booker keep behind me.

We’re shuffling through the tightly packed
room, Mybyncian attendants rushing about with bowls of Dilly in
both hands. Wails and grieving sobs bounce off the rocky walls,
echoing from everywhere in the crowded Great Hall.

“Will the queen be alright?” I ask Sampson,
joining his left side. “And Princess Sansa and Ariana?”

“The queen will be fine. No one is here to
harm her—her only danger lies in the foreseeable panic. That’s why
the chancellor’s rescue is so imperative. I tried explaining this
to her but she wouldn’t risk anyone to get him. I did, however,” he
throws me a look, “suggest yourself, as you did remind her that you
went yesterday. But she’s very rattled right now… not thinking
clearly. Somewhere near half of Pryncbia is dead outside the
kingdom and the other half is held up here, many already exposed.
Even with the chancellor infected, he’ll still bring a sense of
composure.” Sampson moves through a pair of mayans clinging to
another other, crying. “I’m glad you volunteered to go.”

“How could I not?”

“Still,” he leads us into another tunnel,
just as packed with Mybyncians as the Great Hall, “I’ve visited the
prison. It’s not an easy journey.”

“What’re we talking about, here?” Jace
asks.

“Dark,” Sampson tosses him a glance, “skinny
passages… you’ve been accustomed to the FH. Until you reach the
prison’s center, you will be complete submerged.”

“Yeah…” Jace exhales, “that doesn’t sound
fun.”

“It’s not,” I cringe, recalling the
overwhelming feeling of confinement. Especially that last tunnel,
when I could barely fit. Stopping, I turn to Booker, “You might
need to wait outside with the Millix.”

“Why?” he frowns.

Sampson stops as well, eyeing the width of
his shoulders and overall bulk. “Yes, Fallon is right. It’s a tight
squeeze. We can’t afford any unnecessary issues. Best you wait with
the Millix. Help take some of the load off the boys when they bring
the chancellor down.”

“Yes, sir,” Booker nods as Sampson continues
down the tunnel.

The further we get, the less Mybyncians crowd
the passage, most clinging back toward the Great Hall. Many still
linger, but it’s darker down here.

Up ahead, there’s a solid turquoise coral
door, blocking the exit. Once we reach it, we’re practically alone,
the last of the Mybyncians a yard or so behind us.

“And the princesses?” Tucker clears his
throat. “Will they be alright?”

“They will be if we can scrounge up some more
Dilly.”

“But it’s only temporary, right?” Tucker
asks. “Wouldn’t we need something longer-lasting?”

“Yes, we will,” he agrees, “but right now, we
must work with what we have.”

Reid glances between Sampson and Tucker,
hesitant to bring up the unfortunate fact. “Clarence said the
Dilly’s in short supply.”

“So we’ll have to get more,” Sampson shoves
open the coral door. “Here we are.”

We all step in, instantly spellbound. Large
and grandiose like the Great Hall, the queen’s chamber is ornately
decorated with white coral furnishings, strings of pink pearls
draped about, hanging from one end of the golden mosaic room to the
other. But the area is comprised of several smaller rocky walls
that create separate compartments of space in the one enormous
room. I don’t have a minute to appreciate the enchanting
architecture when Sampson closes the door behind us, rushing
forward.

“This way.” He leads us through the
compartments, moving swiftly until a thunderous boom screams ahead.
“Get back!”

We dive behind the closest half-wall,
pressing ourselves to it. I’m sandwiched between Reid and Tucker,
my heart hammering, trying desperately to identify the source of
the sound. I know it; I
know
I’ve heard it before. Sampson’s
at the edge of the wall, still as a statue. Eyes closed and
concentrating, his stature grows and in seconds, he is large and
dark green, having transformed into his true Dofinike form.

Another loud blast and suddenly, an
unfamiliar Dofinike flies past. In one swift move, Sampson knocks
the Enidd out of his hand and retrieves it for himself, gunning
down the Vermix. Another races by and Sampson shoots before the he
even sees him. Tossing the first Enidd to Reid, Sampson retrieves
one from the second fallen Vermix, returning to his place on the
wall.

A solid minute passes when a third slowly
approaches, cautiously peeking around the walls, his Traxpire aimed
and ready. That’s what I heard—the sound of a Traxpire, of
explosions ripping through space. Without firing his Enidd, Sampson
swings on the encroaching Vermix who immediately turns to fire. But
with Sampson’s hit, the Vermix drops the weapon, thrown off balance
by the force of the impact. Quickly scrambling to regain his
stance, two bullets carve through his chest, rendering him
immobile. Tossing the second Enidd to Tucker, Sampson dives behind
the wall closest to the third Vermix, retrieving his Traxpire.

He peeks past the wall, quickly returning his
back to it and glances at us. “Five more.”

“All armed?” Reid asks.

Sampson nods, motioning Reid to pass his
Enidd down to Jace. Once he does, Sampson hands him the Traxpire.
“Cover me on three.”

I’m shuffled to the end of the line, past
Jace who switches positions with me. Booker’s still unarmed, but
he’s behind Jace, keeping me tucked into the corner of the walls.
With the three Rogues ready, and Sampson already counting down, I
don’t have time to protest.

“…Two…three,” Sampson says, everything
happening at once.

Unarmed, he flies into the next compartment,
scampering up the wall. Reid, Jace and Tucker race into the open
space behind him, spilling Enidd bullets and firing bright orange
blasts. Howls of pain emerge, response bullets soaring back. Jace
is nicked in the leg, cursing as he falls to one of his knees. Reid
whips him back, something whizzing by his face and thighs.

On instinct I fly forward, but Booker’s
thick, muscular arm holds me back. It’s a good thing too, or else I
would’ve run right into a stream of Traxpire explosions, the Rogues
dodging just in time, back to the opposite wall. Another cry
bellows from the other end of the room and then another.

“It is the Fychu!” one hollers as a loud
crack sounds.

And then there’s silence.

All breathless, Reid, Tucker and Jace hold to
the wall across from us, waiting through the icy quiet. Finally,
Reid calls out, “Sampson?”

“We’re alright,” he says without a hint of
exhaustion. “There were only eight of them.”

“Only eight…” I mutter, moving past
Booker.

“They looking to assassinate the queen?” Jace
asks, following me with the slightest limp as I run into the next
space and find Sampson over a pile of dead Dofinikes. Each has
multiple holes in their chest and stomach with some missing
portions of their limbs. The last lies with his head unnaturally
positioned to the side, his final expression one of utter
terror.

“Not necessarily,” Sampson picks weapons off
the Dofinikes, handing Booker and me an Enidd each. “But something.
They were definitely looking for something.”

“Do you think there could be more?” Reid
asks.

“Definitely a possibility…” Sampson glances
around, finally exhaling. “I’ll have to stay here. Make sure no
more have infiltrated the FH. And, of course, take care of these
guys,” he glances over the pile of fallen Vermix. “The suit is over
here,” he moves through the room, to the last compartment where a
huge coral chest is built out vertically from the wall. Opening it,
he withdraws a head piece and a much larger black suit, one to fit
a different body type. He hands it to Reid. “Take this to the
chancellor. You’ll be fine from this point?”