Tokus Numas (20 page)

Petro had to think quickly and keep it together; they were depending on him. His thoughts had shifted elsewhere, on what Vetus Sepher had asked him before they ventured up here. There was no dead body, no frozen man waiting up here. There was only rock, snow, and cold wind, which threatened to blow them right off the top of the mountain. It was a test. The Numas wanted to see if he had some kind of special ability, and he did; but it wasn’t overly useful, and he wasn’t willing to share his experience with others. They were wrong about him, and he wished the Father would have never said a word that day.

Petro adjusted the antenna and turned to the face the team. “I want you all to do as I tell you. We have to get through the night, and we can do it if we work together. We’ll use our sleeping bags and link them together to form one large blanket to cover us. Underneath, we’ll use our extra clothing we brought and pad the ground to insulate us from the cold.” He went back to fixing the radio, and everyone else went to work. They were busy getting out their gear and putting the sleeping bags together.

Petro shot a glance over at Sha. It was a foolish thing he had done. He finished fixing the radio and held the mike to his mouth. Sha was next to him, ready to record the test calls. Petro thought about what he would say, and he felt silly—more like stupid—to say anything about a dead body being up here. If he did say there was a dead body up here, someone in the group might panic, get worked up, and then put the rest of them in danger. He couldn’t have that—not up here, not when any wrong movement or decision could cost someone’s life. Besides, there was no dead body; it was all in his head. He took the mike, pressed down on the push-to-talk button, and spoke. “I see rocks, snow, and nothing more.” There was no response. He turned to Sha. “Did you get that?” Sha nodded. Petro pressed the button again. “I repeat. I see rocks, snow, and nothing more.” He looked over at Sha, who was recording the second test call. Petro keyed the mike once more. “I see rocks, snow, and nothing…” It was there, right there in a drift of snow, a man’s fingertip stuck out of it. Petro nearly dropped the mike.

“You going to finish?” Sha said.

“…I repeat. I see rocks, snow, and nothing more. Over.”

A voice broke over the speaker. “Copy.”

And it was done. No more tests, no more wondering if they were going to pass or fail—they’d passed their final. Now there was the night to get through, and the night would be cold, and Petro had to think about whether what he saw was something in the future or if it was something that happened in the past, for the fingertip of the man was gone.

To change one mind is to change many minds—never underestimate the usefulness of a mind.

—From
Journal of Fin
, by Fin to the Father

The morning sun filtered through her window, lighting up Dia’s room as she moved about in her morning gown, white lace, and blue fringes. She’d had her breakfast brought to her: slices of toast, carved meats, and pieces of fruit. There was a glass of milk alongside a steaming cup of tea. Dia picked up the cup, felt its warmth in her hands, and took a sip. It was honeyed for additional flavor, and the warm liquid felt soothing to her throat as she swallowed. She’d refused to join her father and brother for breakfast, being in no mood for Sid’s sly remarks about Petro and the prophecy of the Coming.

Dia placed the tea down and took a piece of meat from her plate, using the wooden skewer sticking through its middle. She took a bite and placed the rest of her food on the plate, strolled out onto her balcony, and drew in a deep breath of cool air. Her eyes scanned the gardens below and out into the open field where she last saw Petro speaking with her father just before he left for Tokus Numas. She wondered how he was doing. Dia reentered her bedroom chambers, closed the doors behind her, and walked over to her writing desk—an antique cherrywood desk, with an accordion top that she rolled back to unveil her writing instruments. She sat, took a piece of parchment, reached for the quill, and dipped it into an inkwell. The dark ink glistened on the tip as she brought it overtop the parchment, pressed down on the page, and began her words.

Petro, I hope this message finds you well. We miss you already here in Dugual. There has been some commotion. I’ve only heard through whispers about you and the Numas’ prophecy. Just grumblings of those who do not know you. Be well, and be careful. Time will go by quicker than we both think, and we’ll see you after your first year has completed. I look forward to the day, and so do Silda, Queen Mother, and King Father. I have no words to offer for Sid, but you know how he feels. I sometimes think he is jealous of you—he’s taken much more interest in his duties since you’ve left, and perhaps it’s his way to gain my father’s attention. It’s because, and I know it to be true, Father talks about you often and how he’s so proud of you. We all are very proud of you, Petro. Best regards, and be safe.

Dia

She read the message back to herself; softly the words came from her lips as she went over it thoroughly. She’d made one mistake, left out a period. She dapped at the spot and made her correction. When she had finished, Dia took out a small gold box; inside of it was the Dugual sigil ring and a container of red wax. She flipped a switch and watched as the subdued wax turned to a glossy finish. Dia rolled the parchment up, took the wax, poured it onto the paper, and then pressed the ring down into the melted wax. The impression of the crossbeams and an inner circle was left behind. She blew lightly on the wax until it hardened.

Dia spoke aloud, “Messenger.” A metallic orb hovered from out of the upper corner of her bedchamber; one might not have even taken notice if it had not moved at all.

An electronic voice responded. “Yes, Princess Dia.” The orb came within a meter of Dia, lightly moving up and down in place. White lights flickered on when it spoke, keeping rhythm with its words. The sun glared off its shiny casing of gold, appearing magical, as if from another world.

Dia toyed with the paper in her hands, turning it in place, thinking of what to say. Her fingers touched the edges of the scroll, gently, so as not to tear it as it rotated around. “I wish to send a message to Petro.”

The orb seemed to gyrate for a moment, giving the impression it was really thinking hard. Dia smiled at the antics and thought it clever of the engineers to work in personality.

“Are you ready?” Dia reached out and tapped the orb.

It soared up, spun down in a spiral dance, and came to a slow stop in front of her. “Ready.” The orb gyrated again, spun around in a circle, and did a sort of strange zigzag dance.

Dia smiled and held out the scroll. Tiny arms came out of the side, reached forward, and took the scroll by the ends. She stood and walked over to the tray of food, reached down, and then stopped. There were blue spots on one of the meats. Her head tilted, and she examined it from every angle, careful not to touch it. What was it? Some meats would show signs of spoil, but only after being left out for a considerable amount of time. “Messenger, scan this food.”

The metallic orb floated over the plate of food, still holding the scroll in its tiny mechanical hands. It swayed back and forth, went down closer, and then went up. Its lights turned on and then off, in a fast sequence, giving the appearance that the lights were circling around it. Suddenly, and without warning, fire shot from underneath the orb and burned the meat to a crisp.

Dia gasped. “Messenger, what are you doing?”

The orb rotated in place, facing her, holding out the scroll. “Princess Dia, you must see the doctor. I detected a toxin—the doctor will be able to examine you further.”

Toxin? What would be toxic in her food? She rushed to her vanity, sat down, and looked into the mirror, studying her face, looking for any signs of the blue dots or residue, but she found none. Maybe she had ingested it? Fear gripped her, and she at once stood up and headed to the door; then she stopped. “Messenger, have my message sent to Petro. I will return momentarily.” And without further delay, she rushed out through the doorway. The messenger hoovered along behind her and then turned in the opposite direction.

***

Dia sat on a table lined with white cloth down its center. Dr. Brattic entered the room. “Princess Dia, it appears whatever you ingested had no ill effects. We’ve run a complete chemical compound cross-reference scan on your blood. There’s nothing that raises alarm.”

Dia was relieved but still curious. “My messenger said it was a toxin. It detected it, right before it burned it.”

“Yes, there is an anomaly in your blood. Toxin…I don’t think so, or you’d be feeling something already. I assure you, I’ve run all the tests we have, and nothing indicates this substance you ingested to be harmful. Do you know where it came from?” Dr. Brattic put down his clip chart.

“No, I do not.” But she meant to find out. She trusted Dr. Brattic, but she also trusted her own instincts. She trusted Silda, too, and she would need to be enlisted to help her. “Thank you, Dr. Brattic. Is there any additional information you need to tell me?”

“No, Your Majesty. Please—if anything else should arise, contact me immediately.” He took Dia’s hand and helped her down off the table.

“Thank you, Dr. Brattic. I will be sure to follow your instructions.”

Dr. Brattic gave a slight bow, and Dia returned a nod and then left the room.

She had to find out what that substance was, where it came from, and how it got into her food. The training her father had given her over the years was about how enemies were always testing, probing for weaknesses, and maybe this was just a probe. Maybe it was to see if they could get something into their food undetected, untraceable, before they sent a deadly poison to do their bidding when the time was right. But who would be probing their kitchens? It was a task unsuited for Dia, but Silda would be of great help with this puzzle.

Dia rounded the corner and slipped out into the gardens, searching for Silda. Her messenger orb came from the left side and then hovered nearby. “Princess Dia,” it said in an electronic voice. “I have delivered your message to a rider. Is there anything more I may do for Your Majesty?”

“Yes, bring Silda to me. I’ll be over on those benches, near the old oak,” Dia said.

The orb left immediately; its engine hummed along as it ventured out of sight. Dia made her way to the bench and waited for Silda to arrive. Should she send message to Petro? A letter would take too long, and using the BLUE was not permitted—for Petro, at least, but she could use it. It would be quicker, and she’d state it was of urgency to get it to him. She halted her thoughts—and then thought of how Petro might react. Did he need to know this sort of thing? Perhaps, but she’d like to gain additional information on it first. It would be more considerate to gather more evidence before sending a message to Petro. Yes, that was her course of action. Silda, her friend, would be the one to aid her, and then she’d decide later whether or not to let Petro know. Of course, what if someone were planning something similar at Tokus Numas, probing their food supplies and kitchens? Did they even have kitchens? They must—too many recruits to feed. Was Petro in danger, too? Was this something that happened because of a prophecy? It was not a well-known one, but it was fast becoming known. Dia had planned to read up on it more, when time permitted. And now the entire kingdom knew about Petro being part of it. The knowledge of what the Father said to Petro had spread like fire over dry leaves in a forest—thank God it only smoldered and was not a full-on blaze.

And there were more rumors, concerns about this prophecy and Petro from other cities. She had heard rumblings from the other kingdoms when her father was taking their calls from the viewer room. Many were gladdened by this news, some were not—and others had called it a lie, saying it was meant only to solidify Dugual’s status as the most powerful kingdom in Spearca, and now even a prophecy pointed to Dugual as such.

Silda came out into the garden, wrapped up in her thick overcoat, winter pants, and furry-topped high boots. When she approached Princess Dia, she stopped and gave a slight bow. “I came as soon as I could. What is it, Your Majesty?”

“Silda, there’s no one around,” Dia said.

She looked around. “So what can I help you with, Dia?”

Dia patted the bench, and Silda sat down next to her. “You are my best friend and always will be. I have need of your help. There is a problem, I fear. When I was eating this morning, a few drops of a strange blue liquid were on my food. Messenger scanned it, claimed it to be toxic, and then destroyed it.”

“You didn’t eat any of it, did you?” Silda was noticeably frightened by this news.

Dia took her hand. “No, I’m all right. I went to Dr. Brattic, and he cleared me of any illness or toxin.”

“So this is not a toxin, then? It was only a mistake?” Silda said in a much calmer voice.

Dia explained to her what she thought and why she felt there was more to it.

“Princess, I am here for you. Anything I can do, please charge me, and it will be done,” Silda said.

“I need you to hire an investigator for me, down in the city. He is a tall, lanky sort of man, older, a large nose, and has a very odd appetite, I’ve heard. He’s done work for my father, so when you speak to him, tell him it is confidential and comes from me.”

Silda nodded. “I will do it. When?”

“Now,” Dia said.

“Now?”

“You are dressed for it,” Dia said.

“I did not have my heavy clothing on until you called for me to come outside.”

Dia waited for Silda to understand why precisely she asked her to come out.

“Oh, I see. You wanted me to be ready to go at the moment I accepted,” Silda said.

“Yes. As future queen, I must always practice thinking ahead, being decisive, and prepared to act in a moment’s notice. You would do well to practice as well,” Dia said.

Silda laughed. “No, that is too much for me, to think that far. I can only see at most what is in front of me.” She held up her hand in front of her face.

They both laughed. Dia loved Silda with a sister’s love—a bond had been formed between them long ago, and though they were very different, it was the differences she loved the most about her.

“I will leave you to your duties. And I shall remove myself to my quarters and ready myself for duties of my own.”

Silda rose up, gave a bow, and left. Dia sat awhile longer, pondering whether she should notify Petro or not. Her stomach felt strange suddenly, and a sharp pain emanated deep from within. She tried to yell, but her voice was cut off. She reached out with her arms toward Silda, who was nearly out of sight when she fell forward.