by Melinda Minx
I don’t lower the gun. I hold it up, pointed right at Siegfried.
Siegfried raises his hands and shows me his palms. “Come now, Princess, you need my help to get out of here.”
“How do I know you won’t try to use me as a bargaining chip again?”
“You saw how that worked out last time,” he says. “I just want to get out of Nordia entirely.”
“How?” I shout, pointing down the road. “You see that, right?”
He nods, then starts stripping the clothes off the man he strangled. He tosses the coat to me, but I don’t let go of the gun to pick it up. My arms are shaking so badly from the cold, it will kill me if I don’t get warm soon.
Siegfried strips the other guard and puts his clothes on. “Now I can travel on the road right up to the border. I don’t even need you.”
I hold the gun as steadily as I can despite my shivers, pointing it right at his face, but not getting close enough that he can grab it away from me.
“You should go south,” he says. “You look like a refugee in those rags. You heard Olmstead―you’re not worth as much to anyone now that the war has started.”
“Let’s go then,” I say. “Stay in front of me.”
“What kind of refugee holds an assault rifle?” he asks. “We need to move before Olmstead and his men catch up to us.
Damn it!
Siegfried is dragging both bodies off the path and throwing handfuls of snow onto them to cover them up. When the bodies are covered, he works to hide the trails of blood with more snow.
I could just shoot Siegfried. I already killed one man. Then again, it was self-defense. As awful as Siegfried is, I don’t think I can execute him in cold blood.
I reach for the magazine, and pull it out of the gun. I tip it over to dump out the bullets, but they don’t come out.
“It’s spring-loaded,” he says. “You have to―”
I throw the magazine at him. “You do it!”
“A gun would be helpful for us―”
“Do it!” I shout.
He starts to pop the bullets out one by one, until they are poking out of the snow below us.
“Give it back to me,” I say.
He throws it back, and I check to make sure it’s empty.
“Step away from the bullets,” I say.
He takes ten paces forward, and only then do I pop the magazine back in. I hand him the gun.
“Point it at me,” I say. “And walk me to the road. We’ll go our separate ways as soon as there’s an opening.”
He nods and points the gun at me.
Just then, out of the corner of my eye, I see what looks like a mirage cutting across the sky.
“What’s that?” I ask.
“Keep walking,” Siegfried says.
I look over and see the shimmering shape getting bigger and bigger, and it seems to be getting closer to the ground.
Just when I think I’m hallucinating, I see a trail cutting across the snow, and the shimmering shape becomes visible as the snow sticks to it as it slides across the hills just below the castle.
Somehow I know it’s Rikard, and I break away from Siegfried and run toward him.
32
Rikard
The smooth takeoff becomes a distant memory as the wraith slams into the snow.
My teeth rattle as the plane jostles and slides.
We’re all clutching our rifles as we careen wildly across the Sydian hills, ready to jump out the moment the plane grinds to a halt.
It finally stops, and Nils shouts, “Blowing the hatch!”
Then the entire ceiling blasts off above our heads, letting the weak sunlight stream in. I see snow-covered hills, and the castle looming over us.
We all grab a rifle and jump out. In addition to my rifle, I have a pack full of prototype weapons and gadgets―not knowing which one might come handy, I brought them all.
The first thing I notice is the long line of soldiers and tanks flowing north down the main road. The passenger cars are all stopped in deadlock traffic―all trying to drive south, while the tanks roll down the side of the road, all heading north. Toward Nordia.
The passenger cars have been mostly abandoned, and refugees are travelling by foot down the road. Thousands of them.
Is this what they wanted? Will they still support independent Sydia at this high a cost? They’ve lost their cars, and how many have lost their homes? Will they blame my family, or will they blame the separatist leadership?
Those concerns can wait though, I need to find a way into that castle and to free Jane―
“There,” Magnus says, pointing his binoculars halfway between the road and the castle.
I look where he’s pointing his binoculars, across the hill leading up to the castle, on a small little path cut through the snow. I see Jane―it must be Jane―running toward us, her hands waving up in the air.
I don’t waste any time scouting the situation with my own binoculars―I can trust Magnus to tell me if he sees anything noteworthy. I run full speed through the ankle-deep snow toward my princess.
I disengage the safety on my rifle and hold it in front of me as I run. If Jane has somehow made it out of the castle, I can only assume―
“Siegfried!” Magnus shouts, and I look back to see all three men of my team fall down on their stomachs.
Behind Jane, I see Siegfried holding a rifle, but he’s not pointing it. When he notices three guns pointed at him, he throws his rifle down into the snow, turns his back to us, and runs.
Even though the urge to shoot him is there, I came here to get Jane, not Siegfried. It would be tactically valuable to take him out, but I still don’t have it in me to shoot my cousin in the back while he runs to save his own skin. Even if he is a traitorous piece of shit. If anything, the men who are sent to come after Jane might be slowed down chasing after Siegfried.
Jane is rushing toward me, and I haven’t slowed down either. She’s only about 100 meters away, and despite the snow slowing me down, she’s in my arms soon enough.
I grab hold of her, squeezing her tight. “I got you, and I’m not letting go again.”
She pushes her cheek into my neck, and her warmth invigorates me. I want to fucking pick up her up and carry her all the way back to Nordia.
She pulls away though and looks at me seriously.
“We have to go,” she says. “Can we take that invisible plane thing back?”
My jaw tightens. “No, it was a glider. We have to make it back on foot.”
Nils and Magnus trudge through the snow up behind me.
Nils clears his throat. “Rikard, the glider can’t fly, but it’s still an invisible hiding place.”
33
Jane
We all crowd into the plane, and Nils shuts the hatch above us, then hits some buttons on the console.
A screen shows us what is happening outside. Two tanks roll out from the behind the castle, flanked by dozens of soldiers.
“That must be general Olmstead,” Rikard says.
His voice is right behind me. We’re all crowded into the glider like sardines. Rikard’s strong arms are wrapped around me protectively―he literally hasn’t let me go since we were reunited.
“Princess Jane,” Karl says, “Did you see how many men were with Olmstead?”
I shake my head. “They locked me away soon after taking me in. I only ever saw one room of the castle other than the dungeon. I don’t get the impression there were too many men though.”
We watch as the tanks and soldiers from the castle move down the snowy path I was just on, heading toward the main road.
Then, we see a lone figure jump up from the snow and rush away from the road.
“Zoom in,” Rikard says.
The screen zooms in, and we see that the figure is Siegfried, still wearing a Sydian soldier’s uniform. He’s unarmed, and I realize with rising fear that he’s running straight toward us.
“He saw the plane land,” I say, “He know
s we’re here.”
“He’ll lead them right to us,” Nils says.
“Maybe they’ll ignore him,” Rikard says.
As if Rikard just jinxed it, one of the tanks and six or seven soldiers break off from the main group. The soldiers jump onto the tank, and the tank accelerates down the snowy hill after Siegfried. After us.
“Dammit,” Magnus hisses, “Can’t they just put a bullet into his back and be on their way?”
“Guess they want him alive,” Rikard says.
Rikard reaches into a big bag and ruffles through it, finally bringing out what looks like a big toy Nerf gun that’s been painted black. I half expect him to pull out a bright-orange foam dart, but instead he removes a black, metallic sphere. He slots it into the barrel of the gun.
Magnus looks at it and hisses.
“Come on,” Rikard says. “You got a better idea?”
“The Wraith is made out of metal too,” Magnus says.
“We’ll be out of range,” Rikard says, stubborn cockiness filling his voice. “Open me a firing hatch.”
Nils hits a button, and a small hatch opens up. Rikard sticks the sphere and the barrel through the hatch, and with way less time aiming that I’d expect, he pulls the trigger.
The sphere blasts off the barrel so fast that I can’t even see it moving―at least not at first. Soon though, I catch sight of its black shape in the air, falling down toward the snow way behind the tank.
“You overshot,” I say. “You should have let me do it, remember how good I was on the target range?”
“Just watch,” Rikard whispers.
The sphere crashes down into the snow several hundred feet behind the tank, and nothing happens. There’s no explosion, no flash of light, nothing
“I’m watching,” I say, feeling suddenly nervous.
Siegfried is getting very close, and the tank and soldiers are not far behind him.
Then it happens. The soldiers all stop, looking down at their rifles. I see the tank’s treads keep moving, but the tank isn’t getting any closer to us. It’s as it’s running on a treadmill.
The rifles are ripped suddenly from all of the soldiers’ hands. One soldier’s rifle flies back and clips the guy behind him in the face, knocking him out cold. The rifles all fly backward like a flock of birds, and the soldiers spin around in confusion as the rifles slam together in mid-air, all racing toward the same central point: the sphere.
As soon as the rifles sink into the snow and snap onto the sphere, the tank starts to slide backward even as its treads move faster, fighting the magnetic field.
Some soldiers jump out of the tank as it accelerates backward toward the sphere. The last man out of the hatch gets ready to jump off, but he’s too late. The entire tank flips backward while he’s still on top, and the huge massive vehicle crushes him into the snow as it flies backward toward the sphere.
The tank scrapes across the snow, clearing a path of grass in its wake, until it finally slams against the sphere. The tank’s gun starts to bend backward until it snaps off and slams against the sphere, and then the entire outer hull starts to buckle inward, like a can of soda. Soon, the whole tank is crushed down into something the size of a La-Z-Boy.
Siegfried takes a few moments to stare back in disbelief, but once he realizes what’s happening, he rushes toward us.
The soldiers who were chasing him, now unarmed, turn toward each other. They seem like they are arguing about what to do: go back for their rifles, chase Siegfried, or just turn tail and run.
I don’t know if Omstead died in the tank, or if he’s one of the men standing there with the soldiers, but wherever he is, he’s lost all authority of command. Only a few soldiers continue unarmed after Siegfried, while a few others go back for their rifles. The rest of the soldiers run away, as far from the sphere as they can.
“Go!” Rikard shouts.
Nils slams a button, and the entire hatch pops open.
I watch as the four men jump out of the plane and open fire.
The soldiers chasing Siegfried go down first. I can clearly see the bullets hitting them, and their blood staining the snow.
Next, the ones heading toward the sphere dive to the ground. With no way to return fire, they simply crawl away, hoping to take cover behind the mangled tank. They all get hit soon enough, and soon none of them are crawling.
A few of the soldiers who ran are cut down, but a handful of them escape. Though I doubt they’ll come back anytime soon, even if they find new rifles.
Siegfried hit the deck as soon as the machinegun fire started, and only many seconds after the last gunshot goes off does he finally stand back up. He puts his hands up into the air, and all four men point their rifles at him.
“Come on,” Siegfried says.
“You want me to shoot?” Rikard says, “Because that’s the only context ‘come on,’ would make sense to me in.”
“Nordia needs to heal now,” Siegfried says. “If I am presumed dead in battle, it’s better than a lengthy trial. A trial would open up old wounds, keeping them fresh and preventing them from healing over…”
Rikard takes a big step closer to Siegfried, sticking the barrel of his gun right into his face. “Why should you be presumed dead?”
He puts his finger on the trigger, but then I feel the plane start to rock.
I feel the whole thing move beneath me, and my stomach drops as I remember what happened to the tank. I look down at the four men in panic.
“I told you!” Magnus shouts.
Before Rikard can even respond, the gun is ripped out of his hand by the sphere’s magnetic field.
It slams right into Siegfried’s face, and he stumbles backward a few steps before crashing down into the snow.
“Jane!” Rikard says, looking up at me.
He reaches his hands out, and I jump our of the plane and into his arms.
Over my head, I see a number of guns flying out of the plane and rushing through the air toward the sphere.
“Clear out!” Nils shouts.
Rikard carries me in his arms out of the path between the plane and the sphere, and just as we step clear, we look up and see the cloaking device on the plane malfunction. It becomes completely visible, and it shakes violently.
“Siegfried,” I whisper, pointing to him. He’s no longer face down, but he’s only on his knees, directly in the path of the plane.
His face is bloodied, and he’s pulling himself back up to his feet. He stumbles back and forth a few times as he gets a foothold, and he looks up just in time to see the plane lurching toward him.
He starts to run away from it rather than to the side. If he cut to the side, he’d immediately be run down. He’s able to keep a lead on it for a few seconds, but as the plane slides on its belly near the epicenter of the sphere’s magnetic field, it accelerates exponentially, and Siegfried falls over in the thick snow.
It’s the last we see of him. The plane runs over his body, scraping him across the ground like an ant beneath a man’s boot.
“Come on,” Rikard says, shaking his head. “We need to get out of here.”
We got back to the capital through a combination of good luck and Rikard’s wits. We joined the refugees for a while, but eventually Rikard paid off a Nordian truck driver to smuggle us into Latvia. Rikard didn’t have any money on him, so he had to make the truck driver a Nordian baron.
By the time Rikard and I made it back to the palace, the war was all but over.
It turned out that the Sydian people didn’t have much stomach for war. Sydian civilians attacked and raided the Sydian army’s supply lines, and the civilians refused to give away what little food they had to feed the front lines. Within two weeks, the Sydian army was starving and out of ammunition, and they surrendered as the frontline completely broke to a final Nordian attack.
The king accepted their surrender under one sole condition: the referendum vote had to be held immediately.
Less than 15% of Sydian voters wan
ted to leave the kingdom after their humiliating defeat, and the separatist leadership was all put on trial for treason.
Rikard was hailed―once again―as a war hero.
34
Happily Ever After
“Are you nervous?” I ask.
Rikard grins, “Why would I be?”
“It’s your first time in America,” I say. “In my birth country.”
“So…” Rikard says. “You want me to be nervous then?”
“Forget it,” I say. “Feel whatever you want to feel.”
Rikard laughs, and then I hear Angela crying from the bedroom.
“Women,” he says, “You two are going to drive me crazy.”
“I’ll get her,” I say.
He shakes his head, “I’m already up.”
He walks back through the airplane toward the makeshift nursery. Bringing a baby on a plane is never convenient, but having a dedicated room for her to sleep and cry in―and having no other passengers for her to bother―is a luxury I’d never dreamed of.
Rikard comes out of the plane with Angela in his arms. She’s not crying now that Daddy’s holding her, even though the plane is starting to descend and my ears are popping.
I’d finally gotten over seeing myself in all of the gossip magazines, but seeing “Royal Baby Angela” headlines put me right back into the weird-feeling territory. Angela is just our baby, she’s not the royal baby. Well, that’s how it feels at least, but then I realize she is the royal baby, and some day―decades from now―she’ll likely be queen of Norida.
We’re given full diplomatic privileges upon landing―we don’t even have to go through security or customs, we’re simply greeted by a limo and a security detail.
“I have my own security detail,” Rikard says.
The man frowns at Rikard, and says, “It’s required, Your Highness.”
Rikard sighs, but waves Nils and Karl forward. “These two stay with me, then you can add whatever extraneous security you’d like.”
