by Settle Myer
“You think you’re strong, but he will be stronger,” Julian barks. “He will have soldiers protecting him, and if they do not kill you, he will. He has just as many virtues as you, ones that he actually knows how to use.”
I sigh with disappointment at Julian’s lack of confidence in my virtue abilities. And he instantly regrets blurting them out.
“Trinity, I...”
“I have to try,” I begin, struggling to hold back how terrified I am. “I cannot stand by while rebels begin executing humans. Especially when the one thing Hyde wants is me.”
I flicker a finger at Shiloh and release him from speaking prison. “Shiloh, is there any way you can gather information on the whereabouts of each rebel still on earth? And do you know how many are left?”
Shiloh rubs his neck with one hand and pulls out his cell phone with the other. He starts scrolling. “The last update I received shows nearly three thousand rebels have turned themselves in. My intel estimates at least three-thousand more rogue insurgents scattered throughout the country, ready to begin the massacre.” Uncertainty plagues his face. “Tracking each one down would be nearly impossible. We only estimate how many are left, but it could be more.”
I pace behind the couch, tapping my index finger on the tip of my chin as if that will activate a miracle scheme to save the world. The guardians fidget where they stand, dying to get a word in, but I'm not yet ready to let them dictate what happens to me and the world I once belonged to. Earth may not be perfect, but it kept me safe and gave me a home for the first eighteen years of my life. I will miss it when I leave for Angor. Oh, how I wish this was all over, and I could escape to Angor now. I can only hope my father won’t need me for the first few months so I can explore the land. I wonder if they have Instagram and Tik Tok in Angor. Is it even an adventure if you don’t get to snap pictures and videos and post them on social media? Do people go viral on Angor? Hopefully, they don’t have trolls. They’re just as annoying as spam e-mails and...
I stop in my tracks. “I got it,” I exclaim. “Shiloh, is there some sort of messaging system set up with the rebels?”
“Yes, why?”
“What if we send out a video of me announcing I’ll turn myself in. We could use Angorian technology to insert spyware, and when a rebel clicks to watch, bam! Their location is clocked, and we send in extraction teams to capture them.” I beam at the idea and finally pull the rest of my guardians out of speaking jail.
It takes them a couple of minutes to get their voices back, and I wince, hoping I didn’t harm them in any way. Then brush it off, realizing these are badass protectors, and they’ll be just fine.
Reed is the first one to speak, his voice sounding like a life-long smoker. “That may actually work.”
“And what about Hyde? What is your plan?” Rosie asks with caution. Her tone suggests she already knows what I plan to do.
“I have to surrender. It’s the only way. If Hyde gets any indication that this is all a setup... I think we need to make sure the extraction teams do not make a move until Hyde and the rebels who helped him escape are in custody. Then we can send in the guards to take down the rest.” Dread radiates off my team of protectors. They glance at one another, sending non-verbal conversations. “Guys, it will be fine. I will have you all with me. We can use our virtues together to take Hyde down. And can’t we get our own army together to fight back?”
Julian scoffs and throws up his arms before dramatically leaving the room. Rosie forces a smile, gently grabbing my wrist and squeezing. It’s her way of letting me know she has my back, even if she didn’t totally agree with the plan.
Reed nods and steps to me. He holds out his hand. “You’re a stubborn woman, your Grace. But I am impressed with the progress you’ve made, and I trust you will lead us to victory.”
I take his hand, and we shake once. The rest of the troupe follows his lead, either shaking my hand, hugging me, or patting me on the back. Unity spreads pride throughout my body. Never in my life have I taken charge. I'm usually the one who hides in the back of the classroom, only answering questions when called upon. But I am a changed woman. I'm now heir to an entire kingdom. It’s time to leave timid and mousey Trinity behind.
“All right, let’s start planning!”
“I’m calling the cybermetrics team now,” Chanel adds and walks away with her phone to her ear.
“I’ll call Lieutenant Marsh. He’s in charge of all the soldiers on Earth tasked to track down rebels,” Chad says and leaves.
Speaking of tracking down unruly soldiers... Julian is clearly protesting my plan to turn myself in to Hyde. I find him in our bedroom, and he’s silently packing his belongings in the army green satchel he’s been carrying around since the first day we met. The hardwood floor creaks underneath my foot as I step inside the door. Julian pauses, never glancing over his shoulder before finishing his packing. Frustration emanates from his skin. I wrap my arms around his waist and rest my cheek between the blades of his shoulders. He tenses at my touch before sighing with his entire body.
“I have a bad feeling about this.”
I turn Julian around and stand on my tip-toes to rest my arms on his shoulders. He smiles mischievously, snaking his rough hands around to my lower back and pulling my body against his.
“You think you can convince me otherwise by being cute?”
I nod adorably and wiggle my eyebrows at him. He laughs then looks away as if to hide the sadness that engulfs his face. He clenches his teeth, causing a ripple effect of flinching jaw muscles.
“I can’t lose you.”
I comb my fingers through his hair at the nape of his neck. He closes his eyes, letting a single tear drops down his cheek.
“You won’t.”
We plan to leave the safe house in a few hours. To kill some time, I meet with Skyler so he can teach me some fire bending skills. The flames that danced in the fire pit the night before are now nothing but embers. The humidity has gotten worse throughout the day, and sweat drips down my back. I curse myself for braving the crop top. Sweaty backs are not a good look, even for princesses in training.
Suddenly, a blaze ignites before me, shooting at least six feet into the air. It forms a rainbow with a cloud that rains liquid drops of reds and gold. A young woman then appears with hair flowing behind her, holding out her palm like I did on the highway. Oh wait, that’s totally me.
I glance over my shoulder to find Skyler off to the side. His hands twist and turn as if he’s a puppeteer. He manipulates the flames with grace and ease. Skyler ends his tiny fire show with an inferno of fireworks showering bursts of cardinal, orange, and yellow sparks.
I clap and cheer with glee, and Skyler gracefully bows.
“That was beautiful!”
He tips his imaginary hat as he walks to my side. He's wearing tight jeans and a simple white t-shirt with the name Georgi on the front. Two martini glasses on either side of the name and a beach background. His muscles threaten to tear the fabric of the shirt. His typically slicked back midnight hair now falls all around his face. He appears happy for the first time since meeting him. I normally get a lot of hostility from the man, likely because of his crush on Julian. Now, nothing but hope and content.
Maybe if I just dip into his mind to see what changed...
“Let’s get started!” Skyler says and dips his hand into the fire pit. He pulls it out with a palm full of flames. They hover just above his skin.
“Flames are primarily made up of carbon dioxide, water vapor, oxygen, and nitrogen. They work together to create the ignition point, the combustion. You’re going to want to isolate the molecules so you can manipulate them, control them. Here.”
Skyler extends the hand holding the fire.
“Try to take it from me.”
I focus on the flames, and my vision does this weird fast-zoom, taking me into the middle of the mini-inferno. My sight zips past swirling honey-colored embers. Ribbons of maroon, canary, and deep blue dance ar
ound me. The oxygen and water vapors tingle my skin. Once I've become accustomed to the elements, I pull myself back to reality and scoop up the flames from Skyler’s hand.
My face lights up. “I did it!”
I jump up and down, then flail my arm to extinguish the fire. Skyler joins my celebration, wrapping his arms around my waist to twirl me around.
He sets me down then stares down at his hands. “Oh, wow. Sweaty.”
I cringe. “Hey! It’s hot today, okay? And we’re standing next to a fire.”
Skyler holds up his hands, laughing at my misery.
“Firing the flames is just as easy. You basically focus on your target, wrap your mind around these fire atoms, and boom! Send it their way. Try it.”
I dish out a handful of flames from the fire pit and scan the yard to find a target. The wooden poles from my session with Reed still stand, so I decide to pinpoint one of those. I pull all my energy and pour it into the ball of flames, letting it grow between my palms. Then I focus on the first wooden pole, locating the minerals and fibers. I push the flames off my hands, and the next thing I know, they’re wrapped around my target.
I throw my arms above my head.
“Yes! Oh my God, you were right. That was easy!”
Skyler holds up his hand.He's not taking a chance with my sweaty self this time. I roll my eyes but laugh, giving him his high five.
“Honestly, I think you’ve got this. I really don’t know what else I could teach you.”
My face lights up. “You could teach me how to do all those designs.”
Skyler chuckles. “That took me at least a year to master.” He checks the time on his watch. “We’ll be leaving here in about an hour. Maybe you should shower first.”
He pinches his nose, and my mouth drops open.
“I do not smell!”
Skyler winks at me then waves me to his side. He drapes his arm around my shoulder as we walk back to the cabin.
“So, what’s Shiloh’s story?”
We leave the safe house a few hours later. Shiloh said he would meet us there after taking care of some rebel business. I guess that’s the downside of being a spy. You still have to keep up your bad guy persona while plotting to take them down.
We head to Nashville, Tennessee, to the Angorian command center headquarters. Apparently, there are command centers in every city across the country with a population of over ten-thousand. Angorians have been fleeing to Earth since Hyde went crazy. It’s now estimated that nearly a million Angorians are living throughout Earth. However, most are in the United States, mainly because they don’t want to be far from the portal. With that many Angorians walking amongst the humans, I wonder if they ever fall in love and have babies.
“Do Angorians and humans have sex?” I blurt out.
Julian is taking a sip of his energy drink and chokes. It spills down his chin, and I hand him a napkin from the backseat pocket.
“I mean, if they’ve been fleeing to Earth for the past eighteen years, surely some Angorians and humans have hooked up,” I add.
As Julian cleans up his mess, Chanel turns in the front seat to answer. “Yes, it happens. All the time.”
“What happens if there’s a baby? Does it get powers?”
“Our virtues are from the mind, not genes. We are able to utilize more of our brainpower than the typical human,” Chad adds. He sits in the very back between a passed-out Skyler snoring like a lawnmower and Rosie bobbing her head to whatever music she’s listening to. Despite having her headphones in, I can hear the beats as clear as day.
Reed drives, never adding to our conversation. He's a man of few words, and I don’t even mind that. Though, I would like to know his story. I bet he has many that would easily inspire hit action movies or TV shows.
“What about our DNA, or whatever it’s called on Angor? Will it not show up... different?”
“Our DNA is the same as humans,” Julian says, somewhat annoyed. Maybe it’s because his shirt is soaked with energy drink now.
“So, we’re definitely not aliens?”
I get a laugh out of Reed, and it warms my heart. He’s not only the silent type but near void of emotions. I say near void because that mammoth of a man plays furious very well. He has resting enraged face. Yet, every time I've interacted with him, he’s been super nice.
“Not aliens,” Julian says, exasperated.
I absorb all the information I'm learning about my new life. Okay fine. So, there are no Earth-Angor hybrids out there. The Greek Gods did it, creating demi-Gods. Just thought maybe there’d be Angormans. Or Humangors. I sigh and stare out the window at the passing trees. The sun shines bright, perfect for late-Spring. All I want to do is take a stroll through Central Park to Sheep’s Meadow and read a book about dragons and warriors in fantasy lands. I suppose my life is its own fantasy adventure. Hoping for a happy ending with this one.
Chapter 10
We arrive in Nashville at sundown, the skyline defined by an array of crimson, indigo, and gold slowly dissipating into the background. The lit-up downtown buildings mirror in the Cumberland River as we drive along the interstate. Here, we are in another city I'd love to explore. I'm not much of a country music fan, but I’d kill to tour the Grand Ole Opry or sit in the audience while some bluegrass band whisks me away to a world of scorned lovers and sexy tractors.
We take an exit and pass by crowded sidewalks where people of all ages laugh, drink, and eat with no worries of rebels and killer uncles. We pull into an empty parking lot, or so I thought. Reed makes a call, says a word, and suddenly, cars fill the once vacant space, and a three-story building that’s as wide as the street materializes before us. It looks like your typical office building, a rectangle with a square white sign reading Virtuous Industries in blue letters. Ha. Clever.
“What just happened?” I ask in awe.
“Cloaking technology,” Chanel answer. “It’s so rebels can’t find the location. It only appears to people on the list and with the access word. The location and the access word change every day as a precaution.”
We park in a spot marked ‘guest’ near the entrance of the building. Two men in cheap suits stand at double doors, nodding at our group as we approach. They hold open the doors as if we’re an entourage entering a night club. Obviously, we’re in slow motion with upbeat music playing. Okay, but which one of us is the celebrity? Me? Reed? Chanel? Reed and Chanel are definitely more badass than me. Chanel’s curls bounce around her head, and her hips sashay from side to side in her tight leather pants. She takes off her sunglasses and tucks them in her equally tight bustier. Reed gives off a Wesley Snipes in Blade vibe wearing a long leather trench coat, a black shirt stretched across his muscles, and pants so tight I have a hard time keeping my eyes from straying.
Me, being the klutz that I am, ruin the moment by tripping over my untied shoe and falling to the ground. The record playing our entrance music in my head scratches to a stop, and every person standing or walking in the lobby at that very moment stops to witness their future Queen, face to the floor. I’m just going to lie here in an attempt to hide behind my embarrassment. Except for Julian, who was walking just behind me, and who doesn’t hesitate to help me up. He pulls on my elbow, and I shamefully stand, hobbling a bit because of my likely bruised knee.
What felt like hours of the lobby folk staring at me – but was probably more like a few seconds – stops, and the shuffling of papers and fast-walking people continue on. Everyone is passing me with that ‘poor girl’ look on their faces.
We continue through the depressingly boring lobby, full of greys and whites and absolutely no decoration, and arrive in a long hallway. It's bright and lined with several doors on either side. Again, no color, no decoration. We enter a door near the end, and it opens to a massive room jam-packed with people sitting at computers or standing in front of a wall of monitors. Some people rush around aisles, dropping off important documents and picking up outgoing mail. This room is dark, the walls pain
ted black and lights low.
Two large flat screens – like the ones you’d see in a football or baseball stadium – are surrounded by dozens of other tiny monitors, many displaying street cameras or surveillance cameras pointed at various streets. On one big screen, a map of the United States with red dots is placed throughout. The other huge monitor shows a blurry picture of Hyde. Seriously? This high-tech world and all they have is a near-useless photo of the head rebel?
We pass through the sea of desks, no worker daring to glance away from their screens to inquire about the seven people invading their space. We arrive at the center of the room where a man and woman stand waiting, their arms crossed. The woman is older, my guess in her forties, with strands of grey beautifully placed throughout her head of auburn hair. She’s fit and flawless, wearing a skin-tight pantsuit.
The man, who I'm convinced is a slightly younger Idris Elba, holds out his hand as we approach. Reed takes it, proud.
“Commander Dyson,” Reed says, then greets the woman. “Commander Myers.”
Chanel, Rosie, Chad, and Skyler all shake the gorgeous commanders’ hands one by one before it’s my turn.
My cheeks redden at the man’s touch. His hands are soft, and his grip gentle. “Your Grace,” he says, showing me his perfect white teeth. His eyes sparkle, or perhaps it’s from the overhead lights, and for a moment, I forget Julian exists.
Commander Dyson clears his throat, likely because I'm still shaking his hand and grinning at him like a creepy stalker meeting her favorite movie star.
“Command... Commander Dyson. Nice to... hello,” I say, then rip my hand away. I give a quick shake to Commander Myers before awkwardly passing by them to hide behind Chanel.
Julian is the last to greet the commanders. He finds me lurking behind Chanel and leans down to give me a light peck on the cheek. I sigh, and all thoughts of handsome Idris Elba doppelgängers leave my body. Nothing gets past my anima mate. Julian takes my hand in his and kisses my knuckles as we wait for an update.
