Plague of Mybyncia

by C. G. Coppola

  “Let’s hope that never happens,” Clarence says.

  “I do not see how it can, as he is under our control in one of the cells below.”

  “Princess,” Sampson addresses her with a soft expression, “your apology is unnecessary. If not for your assistance, our rash rescue team here would not have been able to save Pratt in time. We are indebted to you.”

  “I wish there was more I could do.”

  “You could,” Tucker clears his throat, his focus on the table. “Do you have any more information on him? On the Muskos?”

  “In what way?”

  “Anything else they were planning,” his eyes flicker to hers. “Things he might have told you before, about what he wanted to do, what he told his men. Anything at all, really. The more information we have, the better. Anything would help.”

  “I think my daughter has been more than generous with her assistance.”

  “Mother,” she shakes her head, looking back at Tucker with an apologetic smile. “Of course. But I do not know much. Perio only had me go to his gatherings a few times.”

  “Which we will discuss later,” the queen interjects.

  Princess Ariana barely offers her a nod, keeping constant eye contact with Tucker. “He would not tell me much, said ‘it was not a princess’s place.’ Now I can see why…” she glances over to Pratt. “He did not want me to see what he is capable of.”

  “Think he might spill more now that he knows you know?” I ask.

  “Possibly,” she shrugs. “I do not really know him anymore. But,” and now she considers, “we could always try. I can speak with him in his cell… see if I can find anything out.”

  “Absolutely not,” the queen shakes her head.

  “If I can redeem us for the hostility we have shown, it is the least I can do.”

  “And what do you hope to accomplish?”

  “If Blovid returns or any more Arizals come seeking shelter, I want to make sure they are welcomed in safety. We cannot have another incident like last night.”

  “Perio and the Muskos are in my custody.”

  “And if they escape?”

  “Are you insinuating my prison is far from impenetrable?”

  “I am insinuating that he is smart, mother. And ruthless,” the princess sighs, attempting to make her point clear. “Captivity for Perio is a challenge.”

  “Then maybe a talk isn’t the best thing,” Clarence strums his fingers on the coral table. “Don’t want to rile him up.”

  “He will be riled regardless. He is already concocting an escape—I am sure of it. Whether by force or manipulation.”

  “Then he is more perilous than originally thought. You will not be speaking with him. I will not have you endangered again.”

  “I am probably the safest person to send.”

  “And how is that?”

  The princess sighs, crimson rising to her cheeks again. “Because he will not hurt me.”

  “Perio may still be in love with you,” the queen admonishes, “but that does not guarantee your safety.”

  “I thought you said your prison was impenetrable?”

  “Ariana…”

  “He will not lie to me. He will answer honestly, in hopes of winning me back. He only wants me to understand.”

  The queen inhales and for a few moments, it’s quiet. Finally, after holding a sturdy stare with her daughter, she starts again. “You will go with a fleet of guards.”

  “No,” Princess Ariana immediately shakes her head, “he will not speak with an audience.”

  “He seemed comfortable with it last night,” Reid adds to the conversation for the first time. I glance at him, trying not to get stuck in his stare but as usual, I falter. My body heats, my stomach doing some sort of flip thing until I force myself to focus on the princess again.

  “Not in front of the guards, at least,” she clarifies.

  “I will not have you alone with him.”

  “I will not be alone—I will have Fallon,” she offers me a hopeful, requesting smile.

  “Me?”

  “He had no real interaction with you. He knows the males,” she gestures down the table, “and of course, Pratt. He will be less inclined to confess his goals in their presence.”

  “He wants to kill me.”

  “His focus will be deterred if I am speaking with him. He will remain silent with the guards or males. I would need a female with me, one he won’t really take much notice of…”

  “Then how about Salva?” the queen interjects. “If I am going to consent to this, I want to make sure that you are protected, should something occur.”

  “Fallon can be armed.”

  “But why me?”

  Princess Ariana turns to me with a heavy expression. “You are smart. You will not fall victim to his manipulations.”

  Reid shifts uncomfortably in his seat, his mouth one hard line. He’s not happy with this at all.

  “So?” the princess looks to me with hope.

  I shrug, feeling completely cornered. “Anything I can do to help, I guess.”

  “Good,” Princess Ariana smiles. “We will arrange a visit for later today.”

  “If I did not know any better,” the queen picks up her Glippis heart again, “I would assume you were after your sisters’ seat.”

  “Hardly,” the princess laughs, picking up her bowl of Jiji, “although, I could educate both on handling foreign diplomacy better. Eat up,” she glances around the table. “You will need your strength.”

  “For?” Pratt asks.

  “After breakfast, my mother has decided that Maris and Qippert will be teaching you about our marine lifestyle. Maris is our head of guards for the Northern Shore.”

  “Cool!” Pratt says, digging into the Jiji.

  “Like the Stancimises?” I ask.

  “Oh,” Princess Ariana grins mysteriously, “they are just the beginning. But please, finish your Jiji. You will need your strength for today’s lessons. Oh and, small word of advice…” she leans into the table, “when you ride the Millix, hold on tight.”

  Chapter Seven: A Day at the Beach

  “You know,” Jace thinks aloud, scratching his chin, “the North Shore is a lot nicer without all the dead Vermix.”

  The sun sits high in the cloudless sky, warming the sand and grey limestone walls as a cool breeze rustles the nearby shrubbery. In his true form, Qippert keeps to the water’s edge, speaking quietly with a mayan while the rest of us wait here, on the outskirts of the sparse palms. Pratt exhales, leaning against one of the trees with Mae while Reid stands with Tucker and the Rogues some feet away, arms crossed and chatting. Jace paces between us, stretching as he walks back and forth.

  “Or mayans trying to kill us,” I cross my arms, “or being attacked in general.”

  “Exactly,” he nods, scanning the beach with a deep inhale. He hooks his hands on his hips. “It’s refreshing.”

  “What is?” Pratt meanders over with Mae on her tail. “I’m tired. Are they going to start this thing or what? I’m burning up in this suit.”

  “Easy there, little Roguetta,” Jace laughs. “We’re not going anywhere.”

  “Actually, we are,” Reid approaches, motioning to where Qippert and the mayan wave us over, “they’re calling us back.”

  After heading down to the shore, we fashion ourselves into a semi-circle, enclosing Qippert and the head of the Northern Guard against the water’s edge. She’s bulkier than the other mayans with wide, broad shoulders and short magenta hair that doesn’t reach her ears. Standing taller than Qippert, she looks over us as he clasps his talons.

  “You have met two Stancimises—Gala and Mimi—but there are several other marine creatures to be aware of. Maris and I will be instructing you on the sea life pertinent to the success of Mybyncia’s social climate. Now pay attention—there is a lot to go over. Maris?” he turns to her.

  Stepping forward, she scans us before facing the sapphire waters again. With a deep bello
w, she calls out in her native tongue, her musical voice projecting far into the blue distance. It’s loud and lovely, rounding off gently towards the end. Afterwards, she turns back to us, her face impassive.

  “I have called for Shaya, my Millix. Princess Ariana, Salva… many others prefer the strength and size of the Stancimis. I do not doubt their ability or loyalty but when it comes to companions, I chose my Millix for her speed and intelligence. She understands what I need before I know it myself. She is my other half, my protector. When you bond with a Millix, it is for life.”

  A spot ripples in the water behind her, a pool of bubbles rising to the surface. Suddenly, a small oval head emerges, followed by a long, narrow neck and at around six feet, the neck widens into a huge body with large, flat fins, its entire surface covered in bright, periwinkle scales. It’s like an underwater Brontosaurus, and like the Stancimis, has giant red eyes sitting back in its reptilian face.

  The Millix gives a cry of its own and with her tailfin she glides closer to the water’s edge. Shaya lowers her rounded head to Maris, purring as she receives her master’s touch. Maris, in turn, responds softly to the sea creature, the two enjoying a private moment and suddenly, I feel like I’m intruding. After a minute, Maris faces us again.

  “She understands you are here to learn, not to harm me, and so, she has spared your lives. When you meet a bonded Millix, you will need to explain what reason you have in approaching them. Otherwise, they will assume the worst—that you are there to hurt them or their master.”

  Werzo raises his hand. “How?”

  “It is a delicate process…” Maris begins, “one you will need to practice. You must learn to communicate on a separate level,” she taps her head. “One of the minds.”

  “Are you talking about telepathy?” I ask.

  “It is similar, yes. Dofinikes are able to pick up this language quickly—they share an analogous method in their culture. You will have to train yourselves,” she focuses on me, narrowing her eyes as if suddenly realizing something. “You will pick it up quicker.”

  “Why her?” Werzo frowns.

  “Oh, you thought you’d be head of the class?” Jace laughs.

  “You will all need to work at this. It is not simple. And if you are to visit Mybyncia frequently, it is a necessity. It is your way of declaring yourselves Arizals and of protecting yourself in these waters,” she gestures to it. “Now,” she inhales, “you must learn to send your Millix waves of thought; show them pictures of what you intend as soon as you come upon them.”

  “What if we come across them by accident?” Mae squeaks.

  “Transfer your ignorance of the encounter. If, for some reason, they still sense hostility, send them images of Shaya, of me or the queen. They will understand you are Arizals if you have nothing to hide. The Millix is not greedy to kill—only to protect. Once the threat is eliminated, they will leave you in peace.”

  “Any advice if they start to attack?” Werzo winces as Shaya moves closer.

  Maris turns to him. “Let them win. If you fight, you will only be prolonging your death.”

  “That’s not really what I—”

  “I will be riding Shaya,” Maris speaks over him, “but she has called her sisters so you may learn how to ride them. How to communicate with them. Unlike the Stancimis, the Millix only allows one rider—it goes back to the bond—so you will each practice with your own.”

  “And you sure they know we’re friendly?” Mae asks warily.

  “They have been informed,” Maris nods.

  “What’s it like?” Reid eyes Shaya. “When we speak with them… do we hear their response? Do we see it?”

  “Yes,” Maris nods again, “open your mind, be receiving and you will understand everything.”

  “Well how do we ride them?” Tucker asks.

  “A demonstration?” Maris nods to Qippert who mirrors the gesture.

  Springing from the sand, she lands perfectly on the junction of Shaya’s back and neck, the Millix purring at her arrival. Gripping the two nubs protruding on either side of Shaya’s neck, Maris hooks her legs beneath the Millix’s fins. “I was told Princess Ariana advised you to hold tight,” she waits a minute. “Hold tighter.”

  And they’re gone.

  Submerged into the water in a flash, I missed it. And so did everyone else, apparently. They’re all looking around, turning to Qippert who hides an impish grin.

  “Is she coming back?” Pratt finally asks.

  “You would not expect her to leave, would you?”

  Suddenly, a few yards out, Maris and Shaya reemerge, followed by eight additional long periwinkle necks. They swim toward us, Pratt and Mae tensing next to me as Werzo physically retreats. Once all nine Millix approach the water’s edge, Maris looks down at us expectantly.

  “Fallon. You first.”

  “Um…” I laugh, eyeing the size of the creature. “Not sure I can just leap on like you.”

  Maris turns, exchanging a musical melody with the nearest Millix. It whistles in response and moves closer, nearly breaching its entire mass on the sand. I glance at Maris who simply waits.

  Think of peaceful images…

  After retrieving and applying my headgear, I walk slowly towards the Millix, painting my mind in things I want her to see. Us together in the water—traveling alongside Maris and Shaya; and riding Mimi to the Musko lair last night as we went to save Pratt. This must be enough to show I’m an ally. Still hesitant as I’m nearly upon her, I throw one her one last image.

  Us in the future, assuming a future bond.

  At this, she lowers her neck completely, resting it on the sand so I can climb on easier. I throw my leg over her scaly neck, positioning myself as Maris does, with my legs dangling on her sides, below her fins. Gripping the nubs on her neck, I send her a final message.

  Thank you.

  “What’s her name?” I ask as she lifts her head again, rising high into the air.

  “Ask her,” Maris says.

  I look back to the Millix and placing my hand on the base of her neck, send the question in my mind.

  I’m Fallon. What do I call you?

  It comes to me like a light in my head.

  Lalu.

  Thank you, Lalu.

  “Reid, Tucker,” Maris indicates the two on either side of Lalu, “you next.”

  After applying their headgear, both approach wearily, hesitant like me. They’re concentrating—probably sending them their own images and messages and after a few minutes, both Millix lower their heads like Lalu did for me. Reid and Tucker hop on, each stroking the thick neck in front of them.

  Maris has the rest of our group mount the remaining Millix, Mae and Werzo having the most difficulty. Eventually Mae ascends but Werzo’s Millix watches with untrusting red eyes as he approaches. Unlike the rest of us, he still tries to communicate verbally.

  “Easy, now, easy…” he says, lowering his hands.

  “She cannot understand you,” Maris advises, “you must show her you mean no harm.”

  “I’m trying…” Werzo winces, “but she doesn’t…”

  “It will not work if you cannot communicate. She will know you mean her harm.”

  “I don’t!”

  “Tell her.”

  Werzo inhales, closes his eyes and concentrates. Finally, the Millix lowers her head and Werzo climbs on, stumbling. He gives himself another minute or so to finalize adjusting and nods wearily to Maris. Qippert also joins us by leaping onto his own Millix.

  “Use your legs to grip, and here,” Maris indicates the nubs at the base of Shaya’s neck, “the bairs. You may hold onto them for further assistance. Remember what Princess Ariana and I have told you,” Maris turns to us. “When you think you are holding tight, hold tighter. Everyone ready?” she pauses, waiting for each of us to grab the bairs. I’m already grasping them—two handlebars beneath my tightened fists. If I thought the Stancimis moved fast, what’s this going to be like?

  Once Maris
is satisfied, she nods. “Let’s go.”

  She submerges with Shaya first, followed quickly by Qippert and his Millix. As I’m about to tell Lalu to follow, we’re already sinking with racing speed into the rich blue water, the surface yards above us in seconds.

  Holy shit!

  Everything is flying past, layers of ocean divided by coral and rock structures—some of the Holding Stations most likely. Maris and Shaya are racing dots ahead and as Lalu dives further into the darkness, the lights from the city suddenly appear, illuminating the murky depths around us.

  Wow.

  It took a lot longer with the Stancimis but riding the Millix, we arrive to the city in under a minute. Maris is right—these guys are built for speed! I grip Lalu as hard as possible, praying I don’t accidently slip off and fly back into the water, lost. But with the way we’re moving, it seems bound to happen. I want to look around me, see if anyone has been thrown off, but I know we’re supposed to follow Maris and Qippert. If I turn to find out, I could risk losing them. Besides, the others are probably fine.

  Maris and Qippert round the top spike of the golden coral castle, refusing to slow. I grasp Lalu’s bairs and lean in.

  Faster.

  She obeys, soaring effortlessly through the water, racing at a speed I wasn’t prepared for. We’re spinning up through the water, everything a blur. Suddenly we’re slamming through the surface, flying into the air and back down again, completely submerged in seconds.

  I’m only a little dizzy, but it doesn’t last long. Lalu is diving for the ocean’s depths again when I realize we’re alone. I instinctively want to slow and Lalu hears my thought, obeying me without even having to send her a message. We’re sort of sitting in the middle of nowhere, Maris, Qippert and the others gone.

  Lalu… where is Shaya?

  Defending human.

  Which one? My heart races… is it Pratt? Reid? I take a breath and concentrate.

  Lalu, take me there please.

  We’re immediately soaring down into the murky depths again, the city lights coming into view. But we fly past it, rounding to the opposite direction of the Muskos lair and through the newly impending darkness. We’re there in seconds, the horrifying scene playing before us.