Plague of Mybyncia (39 page)

Hozfin glances around our group, stopping on
me. With his intense glare looming, my heart starts thumping,
especially as his hand squeezes to a fist. “Why she no
silenced?”

Still keeping a grip on my waist, Walker
moves in front of me. “She is the one who told Warze about the
Fychu.”

“She speaks of war,” Warze adds. “Barter
information for Nazual.”

“We no part of war,” Hozfin shakes his head,
glancing between me and Sampson, “and you no Zingfinold. Only
Zingfinold may take Nazual.”

“Yes…” Sampson starts, “…you are correct.
This war does not include you—not yet. Right now it exists within
Dellapalania and Mybyncia, which is in need of your generous aid.
In exchange for the Nazual—which will save half of the royal
Kingdom of Pryncbia—we offer all information on what has occurred
so far, in addition to any and all aid needed, should this war
spill onto your lands.”

“Aid,” Hozfin scoffs, “we need no aid.
Zingfinolds prosper with no aid for
centuries
.”

“This is true,” Sampson nods. “But this will
be a war unlike any the Three Worlds has seen. We have all had our
issues, yes, and very rarely have they crossed onto one another.
But this time it is different.”

“Why you think this?”

Sampson takes a breath. “Reuzkimpart.”

“I no know this name.”

“He is one of the Leaders of Dellapalania. He
seeks the immediate eradication of all Arizals, and is responsible
for the assassination of the other three Dellapalanian Arizal
Leaders. He is currently seeking Blovid, the last Arizal Leader,
and myself.”

“Why this affect Zingfinolds?”

Sampson inhales, “…We believe he is
eliminating the Arizals so he may more easily seek the Three Gifts.
He has already invaded the Southern Shores of Mybyncia, partly to
seek Blovid, but his main objective was to extract the Shadow Bag,”
Sampson takes another breath. “It is also my belief that he will
bring his forces to Nerwolix to obtain the Floating Ruby.”

Hozfin exhales, shifting in his seat again.
“Floating Ruby well hidden. He will no locate.”

“That will not stop him.”

“If he brings war, he will die.”

“He will bring an army with him. And he is
not easily killed,” Sampson shakes his head. “I truly hope we can
end this war without involving Nerwolix. But we need the Mybyncians
with us and right now, they are suffering from the toxin found in
the Nazual.”

Hozfin strums his furry chin, glancing along
the line of Rogues. He nods to Warze and one by one, the large
Zingfinold frees their gags. Hozfin’s eyes drift over Mae who’s
been placed on the ground at their feet. “Why she asleep?”

“Passed out, I think,” Sampson chuckles, “she
has never seen a Zingfinold and I believe your lieutenant gave her
quite the scare.”

A young Zingfinold flies through the red
curtain and dashes up to Hozfin, whispering in his ear. The king
nods and the tribesman scurries away again, back outside. Suddenly,
the curtain flaps open and Vix comes flying though, followed
immediately by Able and some vaguely familiar girl with jet-black
hair, all dressed in the black and beige animal hide.

“Sympse!” Vix cries, rushing into Sampson and
throwing her hands around his neck. “It is true!”

“Vix?” he pulls back in clear disbelief.
“You’ve been
here
this whole time? How is that possible?” he
glances from her to Able and the other girl.

“Dofinike and humans trespass before,” Hozfin
says, shifting in his seat and glancing over Walker and the new
attendees. “Warze bring to me, say strangers seek refuge.”

“Refuge?” Sampson looks to her again.

“We were chased,” she drops her arms, “on
Harrizel, when the Vermix invaded. I tried transferring the humans
to the other side of the moon when one of the Vermix followed and I
had to leave immediately,” she glances to Walker, Able and the
girl. “I took us off-planet but knew we could not go to Mybyncia or
back to Dellapalania. I brought us here, expecting it would only be
minutes but,” she glances to Hozfin, “we were captured.”

“And weren’t immediately killed,” Sampson
looks impressed.

“They have two female,” Hozfin motions to the
dark-haired girl who Tucker and Reid stare at with unmistakable
vehemence. “Must at least make offer.”

“Offer?” Sampson asks.

“To stay,” Vix nods, catching his eye. “When
we were captured, they brought us here, like you,” she glances to
the rest of us. “They kill all trespassers—you know this. If one of
our group would prove themselves a tribesman, he or she would be
granted the rights of a Zingfinold and the rest of us could stay
here as
their
guests.”

“So who…” Sampson glances from Vix to the
girl to Able and then to Walker. “You?”

“You’re a tribesman?” I turn to him.

“Someone had to do it,” he shrugs.

“So what does that mean?”

“It means I’m a Zingfinold, so I’m granted
the same rights as they are.”

“Sampson,” Vix says, drawing his attention
back. She inhales deeply through her nose, glancing between his
bright blue eyes, “one of you will have to do the same.”

The Rogues, Pratt and I exchange looks. Reid
and I find each other, holding one another’s stare for the longest
time and I think we might last in it forever. Just as I start
praying it won’t be Reid, Sampson speaks up again.

“I’ll do it.”

“You cannot,” Vix shakes her head. “Part of
the deal is inhabitance. You would have to stay here and Blovid
needs you… wherever he is.”

“No,” Clarence shakes his head, placing his
hand on Sampson’s shoulder. “You can’t save the day this time, old
friend. Let someone else—”

“The Arizals need you just as much as me and
we can’t ask the Rogues or the girls to do it,” Sampson lowers his
voice to a whisper. “You know the Zingfinolds won’t have made it
easy. There will be a task or a test. A
dangerous
one and I
can’t risk…”

“Walker survived,” Clarence motions to
him.

I find Reid again, my heart racing at the
thought of him volunteering for whatever task they might have. But
someone’s got to do it. And Pratt and Mae aren’t even
possibilities. So that leaves me, Reid and the Rogues, and I sure
as hell know Reid won’t let me go in his place. So it’d be up to
the five Rogues. Who is the most likely to volunteer?

Sampson turns to Hozfin, “Will you allow us
to bring back a few of the Nazual if one of our group proves
themselves a Zingfinold tribesman?”

The king nods.

“What must be done?” Clarence asks. “What is
the task comprised of?

“Three,” Hozfin says, “three tasks need
complete to become Zingfinold tribesman.”

“And that is?”

“First,” the king shifts in his seat again,
“must display strength. Must prove ability over fellow tribesman in
duel. If win, will proceed to second task—diligence. Must climb
mountain to retrieve Ludin bones. If succeed, will proceed to final
task—bravery. With Ludin bones, must kill Horrop. Only then will be
proven true Zingfinold.”

“What’s a Ludin and a Horrop?” Pratt
asks.

“Ludin is large flying creature, poison
bones. Horrop is land animal,” the king gestures to his own red and
black hide which covers his lap. “Very difficult to kill.”

My eyes fly to Reid again.

Please don’t volunteer. Please don’t
volunteer. Please don’t volunteer…

“When will these three tasks be completed?”
Clarence asks the king.

“Tomorrow. Or no Nazual and you leave,” he
exhales. “I make Fychu fair offer.”

“When do you need to know who will join?”

“Now.”

Sampson and Clarence quickly turn to
themselves, whispering with hot, fast words as the Rogues all lean
in, doing the same. Tucker shakes his head but Reid nods with
certainty as Jace, Werzo and Booker conceal their nauseated
expressions.

Please don’t let it be Reid. Please don’t let
it be Reid. Please don’t let it be Reid…

I glance at Pratt, finding the familiar fear
in her eyes. I knew it’d be dangerous when we arrived, but this?
With someone’s life on the line for three incredibly dangerous
tasks? And that it could be Reid?

“Yes!” his whisper turns to a demand as
Sampson and Clarence breach the Rogues’ conversation. They all
exchange a few more words when the king clears his throat.

“What your choice?” he asks.

Reid steps forward and my heart about falls
out of my chest. But just as he opens his mouth, Tucker moves in
front of him, speaking first. “Me. I want to be a Zingfinold.”

The room is stunned into silence.

All of the Rogues, Sampson, Clarence, Pratt
and I look at each other, and then at him. Reid is only a step
behind, mouth agape and staring into the back of Tucker’s head with
utter shock. His eyes dart around, as if trying to quickly
recalculate the situation and make it as originally planned—that
it’d be
him
facing the three tasks instead of his second in
command.

Hozfin nods. “What your name?”

“Tucker,” he inhales from deep in his chest.
“My name is Charles Tucker.”

“Tucker,” the king nods, “tomorrow, you
perform three tasks. If you no complete, you die. If you succeed,
you join Zingfinolds and friends may stay as guests.”

“And they’ll be able to bring a few of the
Nazual back to Mybyncia?”

“Yes.”

“Thank you,” he turns back to the group, past
a shell-shocked Reid, who’s still trying to figure out how this
happened or, better yet, how he
allowed
this to happen. Reid
takes a moment and, seeing things have clearly concluded, spins to
join the others, placing himself between Sampson and Tucker, his
focus down on the red fabric-lined floor.

“Warze,” King Hozfin beckons and the
lieutenant steps forward, “make preparations for tomorrow.”

“Yes.”

“Fychu and friends will stay for night,” he
waves his arm dismissively, concluded with our lot for the time
being. “If Tucker no succeed tomorrow, Fychu and friends
leave.”

“Yes.”

“Fychu,” the king calls, “you and friends
stay with other humans for night. You obey Walker.”

“Thank you, King Hozfin,” Sampson bows his
head. “The Arizals appreciate your generosity and hospitality.”

Hozfin nods, motioning us out.

“Come on,” Walker leads us past the red
curtain and once outside, he produces a small knife. He leans me
against the tree before going down the line and cutting open
everyone’s wrist restraints. When he gets to Reid, he makes it as
quick as possible, the two trying not to look at one another.
Finally, Walker returns to me, his grin returning full force and he
takes his time sawing the twine that keeps my hands bound.

“There…” he cuts me loose. “This better?”

I rub my wrists, thankful the prickly
restraint is no longer digging into my skin. “Tons.”

“Any time,” he winks, stepping back and
glancing down the rest of the line. “At least you all are freed for
the night.”

“You were kept bound?” Pratt asks.

“He had no choice; didn’t know who we were.
Come on,” Walker turns, “I’ll take you back to our area.” He leads
us down a sloping bridge crafted from an enormous branch. It’s
hollowed out except for the wide steps carved right into the dark
wood, the sides of the branch wrapping around, curving back toward
mid-hip.

Everyone follows Walker down, Sampson and
Clarence in front of the line, while Jace carries a sleeping Mae
toward the middle. Pratt, Booker and Werzo surround him with Tucker
moving behind, lost to the sight of the branch below. Reid joins my
side and silently wrapping his arm around my waist, helps me trail
after the others. It’s like he wants to smile but can’t quite
muster the expression and so, we walk in silence down a couple more
wooden stairwells until reaching another bulging tree about half
the size of Hozfin’s.

“Home sweet home,” Walker holds back the red
curtain.

Reid and I enter last and when we do, I’m
taken aback. The room is almost exactly like the king’s—red fabric
lines the entire space and jars of yellow, oversized fireflies are
placed everywhere.

“This is where you live?” Pratt glances
around.

“Not bad, right?”

“Not bad—it’s awesome!” she dives onto the
red cushions in the corner as Jace lays Mae down beside her.

“What do you think, Fallon?”

“It’s great,” I grin as Reid sets me on the
same seat with the girls. I point around the space, “Are they all
like this?”

“What?”

“The rooms.”

“Homes,” he smirks. “They’re not rooms.
Homes
.”

“Homes,” I clear my voice. “Are all the homes
like this?”

“Well…” Walker steps closer with a shrug,
“about, yeah. It differs though. Younger tribesmen get smaller
homes. Older tribesmen—bigger. And since I completed the three
tasks, I’m awarded a higher honor, so, if Tucker succeeds, he’ll
get one like this.”

“I guess that’s incentive,” Tucker
murmurs.

“I can’t believe you did that,” Reid
grumbles.

Tucker gestures to the red curtain, “You need
to go back to Mybyncia and there weren’t a lot of options. At least
I can do this for Ariana.”

“We’d decided
I’d
do it.”

“It doesn’t always have to fall on you,
Boss.”

“It’s not terrible,” Walker shakes his head.
“Being here. You’ll get use to it. The Zingfinolds are good
people.”

“And what about the tasks?” Sampson asks.
“Did you find them very difficult? Very dangerous?”

“Well…” Walker places his hands on his hips
and steps back to consider with a short chuckle. “It wasn’t easy.
Just uh… pray you get a younger tribesman. Mountain’s not terrible
either—mind your footing. And when you’re going against the Horrop,
sort of strike under its neck or belly. Dance around a bit, you
know, tire him out,” he glances over to Tucker. “I think you can
handle it.”