“Your Majesty…” Sampson begins.
“No. Absolutely not,” Queen Ravan shakes her head. “I will not let you risk yourselves like that. There is a fair chance…” she stops and after a second she starts again, her face an impassive mask as always. “There is a chance you will not come back.”
“We must try.”
“Try what?” I ask.
Chancellor Keller clears his throat. “To face the Gorgen.”
Chapter Fourteen: Options
“The… what?” Werzo asks.
“I said no,” Queen Ravan bristles. “So it does not matter.”
“But what is a Gorgen?” Jace glances between the three Dofinikes. “Why would—”
“The answer is no,” the queen shakes her head, frowning as she starts to pace. “I have already lost half my city. You are all guests and you have done more for us than I could ever repay. I will not reward your selflessness with certain harm.”
“This is our next option, your Majesty,” Qippert attempts, moving toward her. “We must attempt…”
“No attempt. It will not happen. What are the other options?” she looks anxiously between Sampson and Clarence who clear their throats.
“Like I said before,” Clarence sighs, “we can search for Dilly… possibly rummage through the nearby homes… but it won’t be of much use any longer. The longer the toxin is in the body, the less effective the Dilly will have.”
“And you think pure Dilly will cure them?” she asks.
“Not cure,” Sampson shakes his head, “delay the virus from spreading.”
“Again, that is only temporary,” Queen Ravan glowers. “You said it yourself; it may not work at all.”
“We have to try,” Clarence stresses.
“And the antidote?” she pauses. “Are there any possibilities?”
Sampson and Clarence inhale. There’s something that they’re not saying, something they’d rather not address, here or at all. But it’s a conversation needing to be had and sooner or later, it will surface. This might be the thought passing through Sampson’s mind when he finally steps forward with another large exhale.
“There are…” Sampson says after a moment. “But they are dangerous—if not more so—than the Gorgen. I am afraid anything at this point would be a risk.”
“The question you need to ask yourself,” Clarence jumps in, “is how big a risk you’d allow us to take for your people.”
The queen bristles again, refusing to answer as she turns from them and paces.
Reid takes this opportunity to break the sudden silence. “What’s a Gorgen?”
Clarence sighs. “A nasty creature that destroys anything stealing its main food source.”
“The Dilly?”
He winks.
“How nasty?” I ask.
Clarence shrugs, “Usual razor sharp teeth…”
“The Millix have sharp teeth,” Tucker tries reasoning.
“But on every limb? And how many again…” he turns to Sampson.
“Eight.”
“That’s right, eight.” Clarence turns back to us. “We’re looking at eight limbs coated with razor sharp teeth. And that’s not even their main defense.”
“Jesus…” Jace exhales, looking dumbstruck for once. “Do we want to know?”
“I do,” Pratt nods. “I want to know.”
“Well…” Clarence sighs. “I’d say their venom is pretty nasty too. Burns right through you.”
“Acid?” I ask.
Clarence simply nods.
“Okay…” Tucker looks between everyone, “so how is that better than the alternative to get the actual antidote?”
“Well…” Sampson clears this throat. “One option would be a return to Harrizel and retrieve the Tregmint. I only have a little left of the Vilbrees I brought and that’s a concoction of my own making. I fear it won’t really do anything to help the infection. The Tregmint however…”
“Why don’t we do that?” Werzo cuts him off with a scoff, glancing around like it’s more than obvious. “Save ourselves a trip through hell. Sounds a whole heck of a lot easier than facing an acid- spewing-teeth monster.”
“Gorgen,” Ariana corrects.
“Right,” Werzo nods. “I vote Harrizel.”
“The problem with returning to Harrizel,” Sampson explains curtly, “is the hordes of Vermix that will be sweeping the area.”
“Yeah but…” Werzo starts, still trying to argue his case. Sampson cuts him off before he has any time to make a point.
“The plant is around Ellae which is exactly where they’ll be combing. It’s a suicide mission, if anything. And it’s also not a guarantee to heal the virus.”
“Well what is?” I ask.
Sampson’s mouth thins as he lowers his eyes to the ground. He starts to pace, clearly unwilling to answer the question. Finally, after a long minute, Clarence steps forward and clears his throat, addressing the room which is hanging on his response.
“A visit to Nerwolix.”
“What’s there?” Reid asks.
“The flower where the toxin originated. See… today, while Sampson and I were out clearing the city, we did some research on the virus. It is not native to Mybyncia but has special, rather potent powers to disable the Mybyncian operating system. It comes from a flower in the southern terrain of Nerwolix.”
“So someone there…” a gulp, “…wants to hurt us?” Sansa’s soft voice breaks through. She’s sitting up with a little color returning to her face.
“Not necessarily,” Clarence says. “Perio admitted to setting the toxin loose. He may have picked it up there at some point. The good thing about the flower is that it favors equilibrium.”
“What does that mean?” Tucker frowns.
“One bud causes the infection. One bud expunges it,” Clarence waits a moment before going on. “This is the surest method of healing those infected.”
Another minute of silence passes and Werzo speaks up again. “Okay, then I take it back. Screw Harrizel—let’s take a trip to Nerwolix.”
“And therein lies the issue,” Qippert shakes his head with the slightest glance in Sampson’s direction. “We are not welcome on the planet.”
“Not welcome?” I ask.
“But if they knew it was the Fychu…” Mae tries.
“I am the reason we are not welcome,” Sampson finally says, quiet settling again.
“Fychu…” Qippert consoles in a low, tender voice.
“Are they against Fychus, or all Arizals in general?”
“They are not a welcoming planet. Much like the Muskos’ philosophy, they keep to their own, and despise outsiders. To broach their lands would be a possible act of war.”
“Even if you were to say we were in trouble?” Mae tries. “That the Mybyncians…”
“We’d be taking from their planet for our own use,” Clarence shakes his head. “Bartering is an old and accepted custom, but we’d have nothing to trade.”
“But the toxin originated from their planet,” I say. “We could always throw guilt or shame at them.”
“It would be our fault for allowing ourselves to succumb. No,” Clarence shakes his head, “if we were to go to Nerwolix, it’d be seen as nothing more than trespassing and thievery.”
“And with the Fychu…” Qippert’s voice is so soft it’s barely audible.
“Why aren’t you welcome?” Pratt asks, mirroring his delicate tone.
Sampson inhales. He starts to answer, but shuts his mouth again, concentrating on his response. Holding us in suspense a moment longer, he keeps his eyes low. “I am not welcome in the Nerwos’ Kingdom. There is a deep history between us that goes back a long time and I’d rather not discuss it at the moment. The Zingfinold tribe has no vendettas against me—that I’m aware—so if we were to visit the planet, we would have to make our arrival there. Now,” he finally looks up, “do not misunderstand me. If we were to try this, the Zingfinolds are just as opposed to outsiders as
the Nerwos—perhaps more so. They can be quite savage and would kill us as soon as they saw us. It would be just as dangerous facing them as the Gorgen.”
Jace shifts uncomfortably, opening his mouth to speak but closes it again.
Clarence notices this, nodding him on. “Something to share?”
“Well… if the Fychu is so unwelcome… would it be wise to have him—for you to stay here?” he’s speaking directly to Sampson now.
“Yes,” he says. “It would be. But Clarence and Qippert aren’t trained as combatively as I am. If the Zingfinolds were to attack—and again, this would be the most likely of the scenarios—I wouldn’t feel right sending anyone in alone. I am the best—and worst—weapon you have.”
Everyone is quiet at the all the information that’s been exchanged.
“So,” Jace almost laughs, “it’s between the acid spewing Gorgen, facing the Vermix, and starting a possible war with a savage tribe?”
Clarence nods. “Pretty much.”
“Geez,” he exhales, “and I thought I was having a good day.”
“So, your Majesty,” Clarence tries again, imploring. “We can’t start a war with Nerwolix. Not before we see how the pure Dilly will work. It might do the trick and save ourselves a trip to our death.”
“This could be a trip to your death,” she’s still scowling and unrelenting.
“Is the flower found anywhere else?” I ask.
“And what’s it called?” Pratt wants to know.
“A Nazual,” Sampson’s voice comes out a whisper, “named for the empress who both saved her kingdom and betrayed it.”
“Which first?”
Sampson looks up. “Betrayal.”
“The Nazual is only indigenous to Nerwolix,” Clarence explains. “If there are any floating outside of there, we don’t know about it.”
A thought hits me, almost like lightning. “If Perio let the toxin out, he’s got to have the antidote right? He planned on scaring and killing his people into trusting him… so he must have the other bud to heal everyone.”
“Unless he got rid of it already,” Qippert says.
“Why would he do that?”
“He knows he has been sentenced to death,” Qippert sighs. “He may not care to save his people any longer.”
“It’s worth a try. If we’ve got the antidote right here, we won’t have to worry about acid-spewing monsters or the Vermix or Zingodes.”
“Zingfinolds,” Clarence corrects.
“Right. Sorry.”
“But what if he’s dead?” Booker asks. “When we got the chancellor, he said to leave Perio. Die by his own hand.”
“But a portion of his cell is water-free. He could still be there with the bud,” I say.
Clarence, Sampson and Qippert weigh the idea.
“Come on,” I try, “let’s just see. Worst case he doesn’t have it. But if he does and then something bad happens when we’re negotiating with the Zingfinolds, we’ll feel terrible.”
“Alright,” Sampson agrees. “I’ll make a visit to his cell.”
“With Qippert and me,” Clarence nods.
“When?” the queen asks.
“As soon as possible. We still have enough Dilly and food to last until tomorrow. We’ll make the visit to the prison here shortly and see what we can find. If he doesn’t have it, we’re going after the Gorgen next,” Sampson starts to head for the solid coral door. “Tomorrow.”
Before the queen is able to object, he’s gone, Qippert and Clarence behind him. After a second, Clarence peeks back in, “Boys? Mind if we grab you for a second? And yes,” he nods, “even you Werzo. Don’t worry, manual labor’s not involved.”
Werzo scowls, reluctantly following Reid, Tucker, Jace and Booker out of the room. The chancellor glances around the suddenly estrogen-filled room.
He clears his throat. “I shall keep an eye…” he exhales, “…on them. See what…” another large gulp, “…I can do.”
Queen Ravan begins to follow him but the chancellor stops her, “Please… your Majesty…” he inhales deeply. “Stay here. Your safety…”
“I think it best—”
“No…” he’s firm. “I will… watch over…” another gulp of air, “…the Fychu.”
“Yes,” she acquiesces. “Alright.”
“Thank you,” a deep exhale and he turns for the door.
Clarence ducks back in, as though anticipating the chancellor’s decision. “Figured you might want to come along. Here,” he places Keller’s arm over his shoulders. “No need to struggle. Reid?”
He jets back in and between them, they assist the chancellor out of the room. Once they’ve disappeared again and the door is shut, the queen looks to us.
“I really do not approve. They do not know what they are dealing with.”
“What are they dealing with?” Mae asks.
Queen Ravan slumps onto the large central bed, her eyes lost in thought. She’s not here, but gone, far in the distance of some horrific memory. “Sansa was still a baby when the last one wandered into the city. Gorgens are wild, you see, so most had never seen them. They have only heard about them in stories from their youth. Creatures of the dark. From the depths of Mybyncia’s deepest corners where evil lurks...
“When it arrived, it killed a few dozen before anyone knew what was happening. And then… then the screaming began. Chancellor Keller mobilized our defenses. Thank goodness it was young, no more than a baby itself but still…” and her orange eyes grow wide with terror, “the size of the teeth. The range it had… so many unprepared. I am sure they had never seen such a creature. So many immobilized in fear, unable to move, to respond,” she gulps, willing herself back into the present. “By the time we finally managed to kill it, hundreds had been lost.”
“How’d you kill it?” Pratt asks.
“Puncture wound,” Ariana exhales with difficulty. “Chancellor…”
“Chancellor Keller stabbed it with its own tooth,” the queen finishes her statement. “It had broken off in our earlier attempts to slay it and just as it went to strike the chancellor, he stuck the tooth in the under-patch of its belly. It is the only vulnerable spot on a Gorgen and extremely difficult to get to,” she pauses, thinking about it. “It was a very brave thing he did.”
“And no more have ventured into the city?” Mae asks.
“No…” the queen is drawn back from her memory. “And we do not go looking for them.”
“Does the Fychu know this?” I ask.
The queen rises, pacing around the room again. “He is aware of our history, yes. Even during his imprisonment at Harrizel, the news of our attack was circulated. The Gorgen is a feared creature among the Three Worlds.”
“Maybe they’ll find Perio,” Pratt shrugs. “And he’ll have the other bud.”
“Did he ever mention anything like this to you?” I ask Ariana. “Any trips to Nerwolix?”
She shakes her head, “No… he mainly…” another gulp, “….confided in Kendal.”
“All trips off planet have to be approved,” the queen slows in her pace. “If he had left, I would have been notified.”
“Maybe he snuck out?” Pratt tries.
“Impossible,” Queen Ravan shakes her head. “All Mybyncians are born with a sort of tracking device in their bodies. It sounds when anyone travels a mile off any of the four shores.”
“What about inbound?” I ask. “Are you aware of all visitors?”
“It is not as easy to keep track, but yes, I am to be notified. Chancellor Keller mainly handles our guests, however.”
“So unless Perio somehow snuck off planet…” I muse to myself, “…someone brought it to him.”
“Why would anyone do that?” Pratt asks.
“To harm Mybyncia… which means,” and I take a breath, “there’s an enemy on Nerwolix.” I turn to the queen. “Anyone you know who’d want to harm you or your people?”
She shakes her head. “We have had very little communic
ation with our neighbor. As Clarence explained, they tend to keep to themselves and we do the same, unless hosting our Arizal allies, of course.”
“I wonder who gave Perio the Nazual,” Mae strums her fingers over her lips.
“And if he’s still here…” I catch her eyes.
“I am sorry but I simply cannot stay here any longer,” the queen moves for the door. “I must try to talk some sense into Chancellor Keller about the Fychu going after the Gorgen. Would you be okay to stay behind here and watch over my daughters? You will be perfectly safe.”
“Will you, your Majesty?” I follow.
“This is my kingdom, child. My people will not harm me. And if they try to, they will understand why I am queen and they are not,” a dark, challenging look grows in her eye. She leaves without another word, closing the coral door behind her.
“Cross your fingers Perio has the other bud,” Pratt mumbles to the five of us left.
I turn to both princesses, scanning their discolored skin with a frown. “How’re you both feeling?”
“Tired,” Ariana shuffles to the other side of her bed, gulping in another breath of air. “But better. Thank you…” she breaths in deeply, “all again for…” another inhale, “getting the Dilly.”
“Yes,” Sansa adds with her own breathlessness, “you do us great…” another gulp, “…honor.”
“Well, you hosted Blovid and then us.”
“Our mother,” Sansa inhales deeply, “wishes to repay…” another breath, “your kindness but fears…” a last breath, “she will be unable.”
“There’s nothing to repay, Princess. We’re happy to help. Besides, I’m sure the Fychu won’t ask for anything in return, honestly. Except, maybe sanctuary, if we need it.”
“You are welcome…” Ariana gulps, “…to stay as long…” another breath, “as you like.”
“I know,” I nod. “It’s just nice to always have a place if we need it.”
“You’ve done more…” she gulps, “than we…”
“Rest,” I command. “You both need to rest.” Ariana starts to protest but I shake my head. “Please, Princess? Just rest.”
Plague of Mybyncia Page 20
