by Tammy Walsh
I extended an elbow to Sirena. She smiled as she wove her arm through mine. I grinned like an idiot with this gorgeous woman striding alongside me. I felt like I was the emperor himself.
Niik sprinted across the flat grass at us. He yelped excitedly the way he always did when I returned home. He had two bulging eyes on stalks, antennae, a squat body, and the hind legs of a cricket.
Niik coiled his back legs and jumped as high as I was tall, licking my face with his yard-long tongue. He rolled over and I scratched his belly.
Then he approached Sirena, who shied back. Niik licked the bare toes of her feet and then rubbed himself against her leg.
“He likes you,” I said.
“Does he?” she said. “How can you tell?”
Niik coiled his large back legs and bounded up to head height. He slurped at her with his tongue.
Sirena wiped at her face and laughed.
“You know what?” she said. “I think you might be right.”
Pleased Sirena had passed the Niik test, I extended my elbow to her once more and led her across the long stretch of lawn to the castle’s main entrance.
The guards on duty straightened up and saluted at my approach. The salute consisted of a fist slamming the chest hard. I performed it back to them.
“What was that?” Sirena said.
“Our salute,” I said, performing it again. “It’s a symbol that shows they take me into their heart.”
“As in, they love you?” Sirena said uncertainly.
“A form of love, yes,” I said. “There are many different kinds of love.”
She nodded, understanding. She turned to the guards and copied the salute.
The guards shared a look.
“Did I do something wrong?” Sirena said.
I chuckled and lowered her fist from her chest.
“A female doesn’t perform the salute to a male, or a male to a female unless they’re in a relationship,” I said.
“Oh.” Sirena turned to the guards. “Sorry! I’m new here!”
They nodded respectfully and returned to their duty.
We crossed the castle’s threshold and were greeted with a dozen servants carrying items from one room to another. I stared at them in confusion.
I caught Aunzika’s arm. He was the head of the household and I had never once seen him look surprised.
“What’s going on here?” I said.
“Your sister’s idea, my lord,” he said in his deep voice. “I’m afraid there’s no stopping her when she’s on a roll.”
“My ears are burning!”
My baby sister, Emana, hurried down the stairs and threw herself at me, giving me a huge hug.
“Nice to see you’re still alive!” she said, before frowning. “Or maybe you’re dead and I just hugged a ghost?”
I ignored her. She could always be a little scatterbrained.
“What’s going on here?” I said. “Why are the servants rearranging the furniture? I liked everything where it was.”
“That’s because you don’t like anything to change,” Emana said, folding her arms. “It’s your birthday party today, remember?”
Oh, crap. Now I wished I hadn’t left the city until tomorrow. I cleared my throat.
“What’s the damage?” I said.
“The birthday party you agreed to,” Emana said. “And don’t give me that look.”
“Please tell me it’s a small party,” I whined.
“It’s a party that’s a fitting size for a lord of your stature.”
Emana’s smile faltered when she noticed Sirena. She recovered quickly but not fast enough for me to miss it. There was a flicker behind her eyes—from me to Sirena, and back again.
“And who’s this?” Emana said politely, extending her hand to Sirena.
“Sirena,” I said. “She’s a singer. She performed at the palace last night. I thought she could educate the locals about some different forms of music.”
Emana’s smile didn’t alter.
“It’s a pleasure to meet you,” she said, all sweetness and light. She could be charming when she wanted—which wasn’t very often. “I’m Kal’s sister, Emana.”
They shook hands but it seemed a little awkward.
“Aunzika,” I said, motioning to the head of the household. “This is Sirena. She’s going to be staying with us for a few days. Please take her up to a room and bring her anything she wishes.”
Aunzika bowed and, as usual, didn’t utter a single word. He took Sirena’s bag and led the way up the stairs.
Sirena looked at me uncertainly before following.
I watched her shapely behind as it worked its way up the stairs and out of sight. I sighed and turned to leave.
Emana folded her arms and shook her head at me.
“What?” I said.
“I’ve seen that look before,” she said. “Never on you though. Except maybe once.”
“What look?” I said innocently.
“You can’t fool me, big brother,” Emana said. “Never forget that.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” I said innocently, and shuffled off to my office, wishing Emana wasn’t my sister.
Except for the dining hall and ballroom, my office was the largest room in the castle. It needed to be. I often took meetings and there could be up to a dozen or more people arguing while we hammered out a solution to the problem.
Problems.
That was what my job was. Solving one problem after another. Sometimes they were small disagreements between local farmers about a purchase or land dispute. Other times, a brawl broke out and I had to administer justice before the courts got involved.
My entire life, I’d seen my father sitting behind that desk, amiably discussing issues and overcoming problems with the townspeople. He liked to lean back in his chair and toss a ball from one hand to the other. It helped him concentrate, he said.
I picked the ball up from the tabletop and squeezed it. I never thought I would be the one to sit behind this desk. That was my elder brother’s job. I was the younger brother. I was meant to support him when necessary. It was what I was good at.
We both benefited from the same level of education but that didn’t mean I had the same strengths he did. He was bred for war, a natural fighter and leader, a keen shooter, hunter, and swordsman. I was born to negotiate, better with the bow and subtle subterfuge. Most of all, I had a better temperament than him.
It was his temper that made him leave for the battlefront, his impatience that made him climb in that shuttlecraft.
It was his temper that defeated him.
It made him predictable. Press the right button and you were sure of the kind of response you would get. That’s how they knew he would take that shuttlecraft and head for the front lines.
They knew where the army’s general would be, and the Changelings didn’t hesitate to take advantage.
That was the problem with Titans. We were too honorable. We followed our code of ethics and it never dawned on us until it was too late that our enemy wouldn’t do the same.
If they did, they would lose. So, what was their incentive?
I scratched Niik behind the ears as he got comfortable at the foot of the study. He always liked to lay there. It wasn’t that he thought he was protecting me or the office, it was that he was in the way and wouldn’t move without a little scratch.
I sat in the chair and Niik whined.
“I know, boy,” I said. “I miss them too.”
Father and my elder brother.
They killed Qale, the rightful Lord of Taw, and still I refused the call to war. What did that make me? In Titan circles, it made me a coward.
It was the worst insult there was.
Just hours after my brother fell, I was forced to decide whether or not to attack the Changeling army headed our way. I couldn’t stop thinking about all those innocent lives I might be hurling onto the fire. Was victory worth the cost of so many?
&nbs
p; I buckled.
I backed down and refused to light the beacon.
And I’d been living in two minds about that decision ever since.
I moved to the window and peered out at Ot’ah, the tallest mountain in the valley. Up there was the beacon. Light it and Muhtix, the next town, would see it. They would light their beacon and it would spread across the entire moon… and then beyond, to the very stars in the night sky.
We were the greatest of all the houses. The other lords turned to us to lead them to victory.
And I had stood them down.
Beacons were a part of our history, our brave Titan tradition. These days we could have sent electronic messages… except the Changelings intercepted all our communications. We had to rely on the old ways.
And once the armies stood down and the warriors returned to their homes, terrified of what might happen next, I sat at this desk, unable even to toss my father’s thinking ball.
I was so ashamed.
My eyes moved to the pile of letters and news printed from our electronic communications systems. I had no interest in any of it…
Except for the aged yellow parchment paper close to the middle of the pile.
About a week after I decided to stand down, I received two pieces of mail. The first was the invitation to the emperor’s palace. The other was a handmade note, the letter folded in on itself so the letter paper itself was the envelope—identical to the one I held now in my hand. It bore no postmark and must have been hand-delivered. I opened it and discovered a message written in an unfamiliar scratchy hand.
It was written not with traditional Titan letters but those me, my brother, the prince when he was young, and the maid’s son had devised one day while we were playing. It would be fun, we thought, if we could pass notes to each other that no adult could read. That way, we could say anything we wanted without getting in trouble.
My ability to read the private language was a little rusty but it came to me after a few minutes:
THE RESISTANCE IS ALIVE
I blinked at it, unsure what it was referring to.
I tossed it on the fire and thought it was nothing but a bad joke. But a few days later, I received another letter. When I asked Aunzika to bring the messenger of the next letter to me directly, he had no idea what I was talking about.
No messenger had come.
The letter had appeared from thin air.
Each of the messages was just as cryptic as the last. Each one written in that funny little code a group of kids had invented.
With my brother dead and the emperor still out there, hidden among the stars, it could only be the maid’s small son. He lived in Muhtix, the next town. Was he planning something?
And now there was a new one, sitting there in the messages tray. I broke the seal—itself a mystery with the dried tree sap used in place of ancient wax.
It read:
SOON
I tossed it in the fireplace and watched it burn. Was it a trap? Someone trying to get me to admit my allegiance?
I would ignore it, I decided. I would ignore it and, if questioned, say I thought it was a joke. The important thing was not to act on it.
Even if I was desperate to.
Changelings could be tricky beasts. It was best not to anger them. Not unless it was absolutely necessary.
I turned to the only piece of artwork that belonged to me on the walls. It was the portrait of my departed wife, Jeyell.
So serene, so calm, so graceful.
Sometimes I spoke to her. She never responded, but it made me feel good to think she was still there, within reach.
“She’s not her, you know.”
My sister stood in the doorway. She scratched Niik on the head and he let her pass. She joined me at the portrait.
“She does look like her though,” Emana said. “More than a passing resemblance. But she’s not her.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” I barked.
Emana didn’t bat so much as an eyelid.
“Sorry I snapped at you,” I said. “It was a… long trip.”
“No, it wasn’t.”
She tutted and unwound the tie from my neck.
“Why do you always let Zes do your ties?” she said. “Have you seen the state of him? He’s incapable of dressing himself, never mind someone else.”
I couldn’t even bring myself to smile. I just looked at the portrait.
“I miss her,” I said.
“I know you do,” Emana said. “We all do. But replacing her with someone else… It’s not fair on either of them. Or you.”
“I know.”
Emana tossed the tie on the desk.
“What did you plan on doing with her?” she said.
My sister, as always, had hit the nail on the head. When she wasn’t being ditzy and scatterbrained, she could be one of the smartest people I knew.
“I’m not sure yet,” I said. “I haven’t given it a lot of thought.”
Emana pursed her lips. I wasn’t sure if she believed me or not.
“Well, she’s here now,” she said. “Try not to embarrass yourself, won’t you? How did the meeting with the Changelings go?”
“As well as expected. They made me make an unbreakable pledge.”
Emana hissed through her teeth.
“They’re sly,” she said. “I’ll give them that.”
“They use our strengths against us,” I said. “How do you beat an enemy like that?”
“By using their strengths against them,” Emana said simply. “And do what they don’t expect.”
I glanced at the open door. She needed to be more careful. You never knew who might be listening. She was more outspoken than me and inherited more than a filament of Qale’s temper.
I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her on the cheek. We’d both suffered enough loss already. We didn’t need more.
“I don’t want to see you get hurt,” I said. “Be careful.”
“I’m not the one setting themselves up for a big fall,” Emana said. “Just make sure to step carefully.”
I smiled at her and watched as she left the room.
Just what was I doing with Sirena? Both Zes and Emana recognized it was a risky step to take. So why didn’t I think the same?
Because she’s gorgeous and she reminds you of her.
I shook my head. They were right. I was wrong to bring her here. The next time I saw her, I would tell her I would find somewhere for her to work, somewhere that paid, and would allow her to save for a return flight to Earth. It might take years but it was better than being a slave.
Niik bolted to his feet and barked. That was unusual. He never usually had the energy. Unless someone new and unknown to him was approaching?
Sirena stood outside the study with her palms raised, a gesture of surrender.
“Don’t worry, he won’t bite,” I said.
Easy to say that, I thought. Every owner said the same thing, and some did bite. I tutted at Niik and stamped my foot. He immediately stopped barking, whined, and sat beside my foot. Despite appearances, he was well trained.
Sirena peered around the door but didn’t enter.
“It’s okay,” I said. “It’s safe.”
She kept a close eye on Niik as she edged around the doorframe. This was it, I decided. I was going to tell her my little story about finding her new work and somewhere else to stay— she couldn’t very well stay at the castle, could she?
Could she?
Those were the words that should have come from my mouth, but they weren’t the ones I used.
“Would you like to go for a walk?” I said.
Zes clicked his fingers the moment I left the castle. The guards on duty snapped to attention and trailed us, Zes taking point. Meanwhile, the guards who’d left their posts were replaced with another pair.
Zes was nothing if not well organized. In his personal life, he was a mess and barely managed to get himself out of bed in the morning, but when it
came to my—or my family’s—protection, he was the sharpest guard in the empire.
We crossed the wide-open courtyard that housed the training yard. We used it to train new guard recruits. They practiced with simple wooden or blunted weapons and provided with all the armor they needed. The tools were housed in the castle’s newest building—the weapon’s center at the heart of the courtyard.
Sirena wore faded blue pants the translator informed me were called ‘jeans.’ They were tight and hugged her shapely legs. She wore a white t-shirt that showed off her bare shoulders and trim waist.
Only one word could adequately sum her up.
Wow.
Sirena looked a little distracted as we crossed the open lawn in the direction of the Northern Wood.
“Is something wrong?” I said.
“No,” she said, shooting me a smile. “Nothing’s wrong.”
We walked along in silence. She kept casting furtive glances at the guards behind us and Zes ahead. I guessed it must get some getting used to. I still wasn’t entirely used to it myself.
I had a guard with me at all times long before I became a lord but I had some degree of freedom. Now that I inherited the title, I had given up any hope of privacy.
“It’s beautiful out here,” Sirena said.
“You should see it during summer,” I said. “The leaves turn multicolored like rainbows.”
“Really? Wow. We have beautiful trees back home but nothing like that.”
I spotted something. I took Sirena’s hand and lowered her into a crouched position. The guards followed suit. I pointed at the Pegadeeran. They stepped out from the wood and peered around nervously.
“They look like deer,” Sirena said.
“They’re very young,” I said. “They haven’t fully come into their wings yet.”
“Wings?”
Something snapped in the wood and startled the young deer. They leaped forward and flapped their dainty wings. They floated for a moment above the ground before landing—clumsily—back on their feet.
I chuckled.
“They need to work on their landing a little,” I said. “And look there.”
Now I pointed at the sky, where two full-grown Pegadeeran sailed high above us, spinning around each other in an effortless dance.
