The Lost Princess

by K Bledsoe

  Lenore’s estimate of the young man rose several more notches. The questions she wanted to ask kept piling up, but this particular mystery would have to wait.

  “I need whatever data you have within the hour,” she said.

  “I can do it in maybe two as there are certain, um, precautions I need to take.”

  “Not good enough. They may already be suspicious of outside involvement.” She reached into her right sleeve and pulled out a flimsy. She rarely used the thin information wafers, but this time speed was more essential than privacy. “This will allow you to download the files into my personal comp from any system but will only work once before it self-destructs and erases any traces.”

  Jonah took it carefully and placed it in his jacket pocket. He nodded and said, “I will do my best, but I need to ask something.”

  Lenore fought down her impatience but inclined her head.

  “You’re a Xa’ti’al, aren’t you?”

  Chapter Twenty-two

  Quinn came awake slowly, first aware of the bad taste in his mouth, then of unidentified tapping noises. Sounded like someone on a computer. Guess Dad and Allison got back early, was his groggy thought. He opened his eyes expecting to see the lounge on the ship, but the man seated on a stool in front of a table across the room was unfamiliar. As was the couch he found himself lying on. Coming fully awake with the surge of fear, Quinn tried to sit up but discovered that his hands were bound behind his back. A quick self-assessment showed his feet were tied together as well, and he was stretched out on his right side, helpless.

  “Ah, the mysterious boy is awake.” The man put down the tablet he had been fiddling with, and Quinn recognized it as his.

  Quinn tried to ask where he was, but his throat was so dry only a croak came out. The man smiled and stood up, grabbing a glass before approaching Quinn.

  “Thirsty?” He seized Quinn’s left arm and wrenched his entire body upright.

  The pain helped clear the last of the fog from Quinn’s brain. The man held out the glass and placed a straw in it. Quinn regarded the glass warily though his body was screaming for the liquid.

  “Don’t worry. It’s just water. See?” The man took a sip and offered it again to Quinn. “But now you might have to worry about germs.” He chuckled, but it wasn’t a nice laugh. “Come on, boy. It would be stupid to drug you again. You’d go back to sleep and we couldn’t talk. Drink up or I will pour it down your throat.”

  Quinn sucked down all the water in the glass and cleared his throat experimentally.

  “Better?”

  He nodded, and the man returned to the stool. He refilled the water from a pitcher but placed the glass on the table, not offering more.

  “Let’s start with your name.”

  Quinn stuck to the story he had made up when pretending to look for the lost sister. “Isaac Demak. I am from—”

  “Let me stop you right there. I know for a fact there is no Isaac Demak from Transden, recently arrived from Carmal with his parents and sister so don’t bother.”

  Quinn swallowed. Not only had they been watching him, but they had already checked out his false persona. He tried not to show his rising fear as his thoughts jumbled to form a story.

  “Hm. Lost your voice?”

  The man eyed him, probably gauging his reaction, and Quinn was not encouraged by the satisfaction he read on the face.

  I can do this. I make up stuff on the spur of the moment all the time. It’s part of a good disguise. And yet his hammering heart made it difficult to focus. I just need a starting point.

  “Maybe a little encouragement.” In one quick stride, the man was in front of Quinn. There was no time to brace himself before his captor’s hand exploded across his face, knocking him back down on the couch.

  “Hey, don’t mark the merchandise,” came a low voice.

  Quinn hadn’t even noticed there was another person in the room. The voice had a timbre that sounded like a woman, but it was rough, as if the person had a sore throat.

  “I know my way around an interrogation,” his captor snarled. “There’s only a red mark. If I need to get tougher, it won’t show.” He tilted his head to look sideways at Quinn. “Talk before I actually get mad.”

  But the other person’s comment had frozen Quinn’s brain again. Merchandise? He had been captured by the slave ring, and they were planning on selling him. He had to stall. Say whatever. Surely, he had been here long enough for his locator to be no longer jammed. But his mind wouldn’t work.

  “M-my classmates—” he began and didn’t finish from a blow to the back of his head that made his eyes swim.

  “Liar,” said the man. “You are not a native of this planet. Oh, the disguise is good but from the makeup in your little pack, I can tell you are very good at hiding your true features so let’s try again and don’t lie.” His voice got quieter. “It will only serve to piss me off.”

  The mention of disguises gave Quinn his starting point, and he thought quickly.

  “It was a dare!” he yelled.

  His captor had raised his hand again but lowered it at the shout. Quinn continued, slightly encouraged.

  “It’s true I am from off planet. I use the makeup to blend in. The boys are more accepting of me that way. There… there was these popular boys. They said I had to do this if I wanted to join their circle. Go to certain people, say certain things. Like a code.” Quinn was pretty sure that hazing was common to all teenagers on any planet.

  “Who are they?”

  “If I tell I won’t get in. They made me swear I wouldn’t tell.” Quinn was doing his best to seem like a duped kid, unaware of where he was. He knew innocence was his best defense. It would keep him mostly healthy, yes, possibly prepared to be sold but he knew his mother would find him before that happened. He continued blurting out anything that might help.

  “I am not allowed to even say the school or town. I don’t want them to get into trouble. I’m sorry, mister, please just let me go home. I won’t tell anyone about this. They wouldn’t believe me anyway and say that I just didn’t have the guts to go through with it. Please…” he let his voice tremble and soften to a mumble.

  The man stared at him. He thrust the picture of the girl in front of Quinn. “Who is this girl?”

  The truth would serve here. “I don’t know. Nobody I think. It was just a prop they gave me.”

  He shoved the picture back into a pocket and returned to the desk to hold up Quinn’s pad. “And this? This is fairly high-tech stuff. Where’d you get that?”

  “They gave me that too, saying it would help, but I don’t know how. I don’t know where they got it, please. Can I just go home?” It wasn’t very difficult to sound sincere about that and even a couple of tears managed to escape.

  The man approached again and knelt so that his nose was an inch from Quinn’s. “Hm. Some of that might actually be the truth. Stop whining kid.” He shot a fist into Quinn’s stomach, making him gasp for air then walked away.

  “Worthless brat.”

  “But loyal,” came the rough voice. “I’ll inform the boss. At least he’ll bring a hefty sum.” Quinn heard footsteps and a door slam. Soon his stomach pain eased, and he could take a full breath which sounded loud in the true silence. Never had he been so glad to be alone. Even if he knew time was running out.

  ***

  In all her years with the Xa’ti’al and after she left the order, Lenore had never been asked that question. Told people, yes, but never asked. It was all she could do to keep her composure.

  “What makes you think I am?” She figured that was a harmless enough response.

  “Well, I have seen one before, long ago and he was, um, I mean, well, you remind me of him.”

  Lenore allowed one eyebrow to rise but said nothing.

  Jonah lifted his hands. “No, wait, he didn’t look like you, completely different in fact, but you both have the same manner and demeanor. Superior, but not in a rude way, like, well, like you hav
e earned it. He was full of information and knew his way around people.” He rubbed his arm absently where Lenore had grabbed him.

  “Interesting. And where did you meet this Xa’ti’al?”

  “I didn’t personally meet him, but I was among the group that did. He came after the princess disappeared.”

  His eyes searched her face, but she tried to maintain inner calm, determined not to reveal any more than she supposedly already had. The mystery surrounding this man continued to grow.

  “I had been wondering if the famous order had been called to assist in a search.”

  He looked away with a grimace. “Oh, they were called all right, but showed up apologizing profusely that they could do nothing.”

  “That does not sound like the Xa’ti’al we have all heard about.”

  “I remember thinking the same thing.” He looked directly into her eyes. “You already seem much more competent and willing.”

  “Thank you.” Lenore rose to leave. “The information as soon as possible please.”

  “Wait.” Jonah reached for her arm as if to stop her but arrested his motion before touching her. “There is something I need you to do for me.”

  Much as she wanted to escape this enigmatic man’s shrewd questions and get on with finding Quinn, she was intrigued.

  She sat back down and lowered her eyelids a trifle. “And what do I need to do for you?”

  Jonah blushed at her chiding tone but continued. “Someone has been shadowing the royal family, and I cannot seem to locate her.”

  Her? I wonder…

  “From what little I have uncovered, I believe she is a local information broker, selling data, both fact and fiction, to whomever will pay.” He held a data stick out and his voice dropped to a whisper. “If I am caught with that, not only will I lose my job but also be imprisoned for a long time. Those are directly from the palace files. I have erased the originals.”

  Lenore kept her hands clasped and Jonah deposited the stick on the table between them. “Why me? Why not palace security?”

  Jonah shrugged. “You seem much more capable.”

  “Flattery is all well and good, Mr. Wilkerson, but why should I do this for you? Our time would be better spent on the original case, would it not?”

  “I would think a local who deals in information would be of assistance to the case.” He waited, but she didn’t even blink. “And I will add my own payment on top of the already posted reward.”

  “How much?”

  “I cannot pay you as much as the reward for the princess, but I can offer half that amount for this service.”

  For the third time in one hour, Lenore was surprised. The reward for the princess was quite a substantial one, and if this young man could come up with half, he had considerable resources of his own. When she didn’t move, as if pondering the offer, Jonah’s shoulders drooped.

  “I need to find her. Please.”

  Lenore reached out and took the data stick, tucking it into the hidden pocket of her right sleeve. “I will assist you, but only if it does not interfere or detract from the first case.”

  Jonah nodded and, for the first time, smiled. “Understood. That would be wonderful.” He stood. “I will collect that data for you and send it as soon as I can.” He bowed and was out the door before she could admonish him about bowing to the street person she was pretending to be.

  Lenore shook her head. This case was proving to have more mystery and surprises than the previous one involving a planetwide crime syndicate. But even that couldn’t offer a respite from her concern for Quinn. She left the restaurant to return to the room. Diarmin and Allison would be here in a couple of hours, so she needed to have a plan ready to rescue her only son.

  Chapter Twenty-three

  After struggling and squirming for a while, Quinn managed to push himself to a sitting position on the couch. Twisting his head as far as he could told him nothing. His bag was gone, most likely taken by Jerk Man, Quinn’s nickname for his questioner. The only thing left was the glass of water and empty pitcher on the table, both plastic and neither would make a good weapon even if he could get free. His hands and feet were bound with a sort of plastic covered metal and hadn’t loosened with all his exertions. Quinn eyed the water with longing, though perhaps he shouldn’t as he was already feeling pressure on his bladder.

  How long was I out? Did his comp pad reactivate his tracker? At what point would his mother realize he was missing and start to look? His last clear memory was of purchasing food for lunch.

  That must have been how I was drugged. But that didn’t make sense. He had moved to the next area and hadn’t even started questioning anyone yet. The thought chilled him. It had to mean the organization was larger and more efficient than anyone had thought. What if it was too big for his family to take on? What would he do?

  As he choked back the nauseating fear rising in his throat, he heard the slight whoosh of the door opening. He cranked his head around but couldn’t turn far enough to see the entrance. The sounds of footsteps evolved quickly enough into Jerk Man and another man that looked like his sole purpose in life was to lift weights and be as scary as possible. Time to act like the scared innocent. Although, shrinking back against the couch didn’t feel like acting.

  From some inner pocket about chest level, Jerk Man produced a small stick with a rounded tip. He touched this to the bindings on Quinn’s feet. Quinn felt them separate though the cuffs were still around his ankles. He tried to indicate his hands behind his back, but Jerk man only smiled. Muscles hauled Quinn up by the left arm and started dragging him toward the door. Quinn stumbled, his legs cramped from inactivity, proving that he had been unconscious far longer than he thought. He planted his feet, trying to appear stubborn, but really just waiting for circulation to return to his feet. He faced Jerk Man.

  “Can I go home now?” He tried not to sound too whiny to avoid another punch. The rough chuckle from Muscles wasn’t very reassuring.

  “Well, there is a problem with that,” said Jerk man. “Evidently your friends aren’t as tight lipped as you are, and someone is being nosy.”

  “What? What does that mean?” Quinn did his best to look confused, but his heart soared.

  Mom.

  A blow to the back of his head made his vision go dark for a heartbeat.

  “Lesson number one, kid,” said Muscles in a low voice.

  Jerk Man leaned in close. “That’s right. Don’t speak unless spoken to.” He spun Quinn around and pushed him and his guard toward the door. “Second, we have already taken care of the nosy person, so you are never going home.”

  Muscles ceased dragging Quinn so that he could turn him to look back, right into the horrible man’s eyes.

  “And third,” Jerk man paused to show a humorless smile, “there is no hope.”

  Chapter Twenty-four

  It took Lenore half an hour to make it back to the rented room even though it was only a few blocks away. She used the extra time to make sure there was no one following, an almost subconscious ability by now, and the movement aided her thinking. She had to come up with a plan to find and rescue Quinn. If Jonah’s information had any truth to it, the slave organization was incredibly large with many officials in its pockets. And why had the Xa’ti’al refused to help? It should have been a perfect case, one that would gain the order some notoriety, not to mention quite a bit of money. Lenore shook her head. Illogical decisions and irrational choices was one of the main reasons she had left the order, but it still came as a surprise. She shoved the questions aside to focus on the task ahead.

  Lenore entered the room and quickly packed, fighting a pang of worry and fear as she carefully stowed all of Quinn’s belongings in their proper places. She was less careful with her own stuff, craving some action and anxious to get to the spaceport. She left to check out, letting the door slam behind her, determined to have a plan ready as soon as Diarmin landed.

  I need to find a place to think and study those fil
es the moment Jonah sends them.

  It wouldn’t be easy, but she would get Quinn back.

  “Hang in there,” she whispered to herself, wishing he could hear her and take comfort in knowing she was coming.

  ***

  Quinn was struggling against panic as Muscles dragged him down the hall, Jerk slightly behind. What did they do to Mom? What did they mean by “taken care of?” Is she…dead? His knees buckled at the thought, and Muscles grunted as he pulled him back upright without missing a step.

  No, they are lying to rattle me. But they know about Mom. And what about Dad and Allison? He couldn’t think straight.

  No matter how much they know, it’s up to me now. Quinn tried to focus on a plan but came up blank. He had a little self-defense learned from his mother, but in all the lessons he had the use of his arms. And if he got free, where would he go?

  The three turned a corner and at the end of the hall, Quinn saw a sight that made his heart soar. A door with clear panels through which he could see daylight. He stumbled on purpose and pretended to go down to a knee which succeeded in twisting out of Muscles’ grasp. As the henchman grabbed for him, Quinn stood up quickly and rammed his head under the man’s chin. Despite the exploding pain in his own head, Quinn kicked out at Jerk Man, aiming for the knee to disable. He felt extreme satisfaction at Jerk’s yell and turned to dash for the door to the outside.

  A bit unbalanced with his hands still bound, Quinn reached the door quickly and twisted to allow his hands access to the pad that would open the door. It swooshed open, and Quinn dashed through, but only got one step before his legs locked together to pitch him forward onto the hard floor. He hunched up and took the fall on his left shoulder but was still stunned breathless by the impact. As he waited for his brains to stop rattling, two sets of feet approached his vision.