by D P Rowell
Cameron nodded nervously and unbuckled his seatbelt. The Peppercorns remained in their seats, watching the hologram TVs on the back of the headrests in front of them. Once they sat, Ace pulled a drawer from the coffee table. His eyes widened.
“What is it?” Cameron said. Ace pulled out a deck of playing cards, ripped and torn on the edges. Cameron sat up quickly, “I thought those were some ancient Earth game. Guess jags play cards too.”
“Me too! I remember Grandpa used to call me Ace of spades. He had a deck just like this on his ship.” They both stared at the deck for a moment, reminiscing over the days spent with Grandpa on vacation, playing go fish, war, blackjack, and all sorts of card games. Card games they often lost to the Peppercorns. He remembered the day Grandpa gave him the nickname . . .
* * *
They were outside the family hovercraft, headed to one of the Genesis Sabercats basketball games to watch Uncle Marcus play—as they frequently did—and as usual, the kids fought over who would sit in the back next to Grandpa.
“Ace,” Grandpa said. All the grandchildren stopped their bickering. “It’s just occurred to me I still haven’t shown you my card trick. Whadaya say you hop in the back with me and I’ll show you on the way, son?”
Ace’s six-year-old-face lit with wonder. “Sure, Grandpa!”
The Peppercorns made sure everyone knew how displeased they were with this. But Cameron just smiled at Ace. Once they were on the way, Grandpa pulled three cards from his pocket and revealed them one-by-one to Ace.
“King of hearts, Jack of diamonds, and another jack of diamonds,” Grandpa said.
“How’d you get two jack of diamonds, Grandpa?” Ace said.
“It’s a secret,” Grandpa said with a wink. Ace chuckled. Grandpa sorted through the trick, using his skilled sleight-of-hand to make the different cards appear at times and places no one would expect them. Each time Grandpa did so, it was followed by a wide-eyed Ace, saying “Woah!” The other grandchildren silently peeked behind their seats to see Grandpa’s trick as well.
“But really,” Grandpa said as he readied for the trick’s finale, “I’ve been a little dishonest the whole time. What I really have . . .” Grandpa laid his cards on the seat by Ace one-by-one, “is a king of hearts, jack of diamonds, and an ace of spades.”
Ace gasped. “Wow! How—but—but—” Grandpa chuckled his usual heartwarming chuckle and wrapped his arm over Ace. “You made the ace of spades appear out of nowhere!” Ace said.
“Actually . . .” Grandpa leaned into Ace’s ear. “The ace of spades was there the whole time. I just had you focused on the other two. I disrupted your expectations. When it came down to the end, I pulled out the secret weapon I’d been hiding the whole time. Now you’re not even thinking about the two jacks. Just the ace of spades.”
Ace smiled wide at Grandpa.
“Kinda like you, Ace,” Grandpa said. Then he chuckled. “I never realized the irony there.”
“What do you mean, Grandpa?” Ace said.
Grandpa smiled and leaned close to his grandson, “Right now, you probably feel not a lot of people are paying attention to what you have to offer. But when the time comes, you’re gonna be the secret weapon that makes everything worthwhile. Then, everyone will be looking at you.” Ace smiled big at Grandpa as the old man laughed and pulled him close. “That’s you, kid. You’re my Ace of Spades.”
* * *
Ace suppressed the prompt to mourn for fear of embarrassing himself. But his grief collided with a sense of peace as well. At six years old, he hadn’t quite understood what Grandpa meant. But now it seemed unmistakable. How long had Grandpa known he was going to give him the Emerson Stone?
“Ahh,” Said Marg, who had made his way to the couches. “So, you know what those are, huh?”
The kids nodded. “My grandfather had a deck just like this,” Ace said.
Marg raised one eyebrow. He glanced back at Rio, who was walking down the aisle from the bathroom. The jag turned his attention back to the children. “Grandfather, huh? Interesting.”
Cameron and Ace nodded.
“Up for some blackjack, then?” Marg said.
“Sure!” They said together.
Rio stepped forward and interjected, “Ace, I need to speak with you first.” Ace stood to follow the drake, and he saw Julie shoot an unnerved glance from her chair. Hearing the drake ask to speak with him privately must have triggered her already blatant suspicions. Rio took him to the back of the jet just past the bar, in a narrow hallway next to the bathroom.
“What’s going on?” Ace said.
“Just wanted to warn you of some things I wasn’t expecting when we land. Apparently, there’s been some sort of recall,” Rio said, leaning his head down to meet Ace at eye level.
“Yeah, I actually wanted to ask you . . . what are the elite?” Ace said.
Rio tilted his head. “Where did you hear that?”
“You and Marg were talking on the way here.”
“You heard us talking?”
“Well, yeah. I was kinda listening in.”
“Did anyone else hear?”
Ace shook his head. “No. I was making sure of it. But I also was really interested in what you were talking about.”
Rio sighed. “Your grandfather warned me of your incurable curiosity.”
Ace shrugged with a crooked smile.
“The elite,” Rio continued, “are a select few hunters. The best of the Indies. Your grandfather took them under his wing and trained them personally. They all share second in command under Marty only.”
“And you’re one of them, right?”
“Yes. Actually, that’s what I needed to talk to you about. When Marty sent me that letter, I sent word to Gathara that Marty Halder passed, and I would be returning from Oola. But I didn’t tell them I’d be bringing his grandchildren.”
“Why not?”
Rio poked his head up as if he heard something. He tilted his head and looked down the hallway. Then back at Ace. “For one, I didn’t want anyone but you to know about your grandfather’s business. Had Gathara been expecting Marty Halder’s grandchildren, rumor might have spread, and rumors are liable to find the ear of a witch. But there is another, more important reason. Until now, who your grandfather would have selected to take his place was all up in the air. It was fairly understood it would be one of the elite. All of us wanted the position. When we arrive, don’t expect a warm welcome.”
Ace’s face scrunched. “What exactly do you mean?”
Rio placed his hand on the boy’s shoulder and leaned closer in. “I mean first I will have to convince the elite that you are the grandchild of Marty Halder. His family life was a complete mystery to us. No one even knew he had children. Second, I will have to convince them that he chose you, a twelve-year-old boy, to lead them. These elite have trained for years under his direct leadership, conquered many milestones in the name of the Indies, and even established the Indie-governed Gathara. They will not take lightly to this news.”
Ace chuckled nervously. “Guess that’s not so bad. I’m sure we can find a way to convince them.”
“Exactly my thoughts before I heard about the recall,” Rio said.
“What does the recall mean?”
“A recall can only occur under a direct order of the Halder.”
“The Halder?”
“It’s the name we chose for the elite leader. Since your grandfather established it, we chose his name for the job title. I think it rolls off the tongue actually.” Rio shook his head. “I think you’re missing the bigger picture, kid. If the order can only come from the Halder, that can mean only one thing. The Indies have already selected a new leader,” Rio said, leaning against the bathroom door.
Ace rolled his eyes and sighed. Another group of people who didn’t believe he was a leader. The further along the journey, the clearer it became; the only one who truly believed in him was Grandpa. Everyone else was against him. He glanced at Rio. The d
rake scratched his head as he thought about the situation.
“I’m starting to believe Grandpa made some kinda mistake,” Ace said. “Nobody else thinks I’m supposed to be this leader or whatever. I have no idea how I’m going to convince a group full of highly trained hunters that I’m supposed to be their boss after one day of training. Cameron is usually more skilled than me. And the Peppercorns definitely are. It doesn’t make any sense why he chose me.”
The drake offered a smile full of pity and leaned in close again. “Your grandfather did a lot of things that didn’t make sense at first. But they always had some purpose in the end.”
“Not this time,” Ace said.
“Look,” Rio said, placing one hand on Ace’s shoulder, “I thought it was crazy too, that first day of training. Honestly, you didn’t show much promise.”
“Good to know.”
“But listen, kid. The way you protected your family from those witches in Myrka was impressive. They called you a prodigy themselves. When time came to see what you were really made of, you didn’t disappoint. Your grandfather knew what he was doing, I trust that.”
Ace half-smiled.
“C’mon,” Rio said waving his hand, “let’s get back to your family.”
“Hey, Rio,” Ace said. The drake stopped and looked at him. “When we were in the Thraun airport, I saw flights booked to Gathara. How can so many people think Gathara is a fairy tale if public airports are offering flights?”
“The nations of Yutara are in a very strange place. There isn’t much communication between them. Gathara isn’t really considered a fairy tale in Heorg, only in Eveland, really.”
Ace nodded, and they walked the aisle to find Cameron and Marg playing cards together. The Peppercorns remained in their seats, watching TV. The jag had a joyful countenance. Seemed to light up the room.
“Gugra!” Marg said. “Kid so good at this game.”
“It’s a game of chance, really. Hard to be good at it,” Cameron said with a twisted smile.
Ace smiled too, knowing Grandpa had taught he and Cameron how to count cards to win at blackjack. Something no other Yutarian knew how to do. Marg’s Grandpa-like banter seemed to ease Cameron’s nerves of flying. Ace also felt a sense of peace around the jag. He thought back to Rio’s words of advice when it came to witches. They never looked like witches, and their greatest talent was deception. As the boy observed the jag and his older brother joke and play cards, a thought popped into his head. Maybe, just as a witch never seemed a witch, sometimes a friend doesn’t seem a friend.
And sometimes a hero doesn’t seem a hero.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
A Fish on a Hook
Ace and Cameron found themselves next to each other once again, the seatbelt light on, and Cameron gripping at the armrests.
“I thought you weren’t scared anymore,” Ace said. Cameron’s nerves had calmed since he and the jag’s card playing.
“The most dangerous parts of flying are the takeoff and landing,” Cameron said.
“You know, I think this is the first time I’ve ever been less scared than my older brother,” Ace said.
“Whatever, bro. I don’t even care right now, I’m just trying not to die.”
Ace chuckled and turned to look out the window. The ground showed splotches of red and brown clay and dirt. The stubby trees surrounding the roads and rivers were surprisingly green. Roads scattered on the desert ground like a wiggly grid, coming together at a few mildly populated towns. Hovercrafts along the roads looked like ants on a hill, and the town buildings resembled the stone and white brick like those of Thraun.
The surface grew wilder as they approached the foothills of the desert mountains. Roads, hovercrafts, and people steadily grew in number. The plane tilted on Ace’s side to make its turn, giving him a clear view of the big city all the roads and small towns surrounded. The snow-capped desert mountains embraced Gathara in a crescent shape. Buildings rose and fell in waves of the foothills, as if they were built on the surface of the raging ocean during a storm. Some looked unlike the type of structures he knew from Eveland. Grandpa had described them in his stories.
“Castles!” The word pushed through his memory and leaped off his tongue.
Cameron let go of the armrests and leaned over to catch a glimpse. The biggest one sat in the center of the city. Built of the same white brick, surrounded by towers. Towers surrounded the castle wall, and one large tower stood in the middle of the wall further back in the castle; and it was surrounded by a cluster of towers of varying size. The other buildings surrounding the castle were staggered in such a way, it looked as if the City Planner just threw the buildings down any place his heart desired. Shingles of dark red, brown, and black, slid down either side of their roofs. Some buildings were towers like mini castles. Some varied in color, and others were made of wood, and some a mixture of wood and brick. Even a few stone buildings found here and there. Bridges, winding roads of cobblestone and brick, and people were everywhere. This was a far cry from his original bland view of Heorg. It was like Grandpa’s stories come to life!
“I’ve never seen a city like this before,” Ace said.
The Peppercorns had remained silent behind them since they had been flying over the city.
“Yeah, it’s incredible,” Cameron said. He turned to Marg and Rio.
“How come we’ve never seen this place before? Like not even in pictures at school or anything,” Cameron said.
Rio shrugged. “Maybe when you return you can teach your school something.”
Ace knew the true answer to Cameron’s question. This city was designed by and belonged to the Indies. If the witches had as strong a grasp on the rest of Yutara as Rio said, they would do everything in their power to keep knowledge of the Indies away from people. He looked at his older brother, wondering if he still remembered their agreement for him to learn witch hunting. Although Ace desired to keep his word to Grandpa, he secretly had been looking forward to having his older brother by his side on this journey. Cameron would make a great hunter, and Ace could have used the help.
A voice came over the intercom. “We advise you to stay seated and buckled as we make our final descent.”
* * *
“Those animals are beautiful,” Julie said. “I want one!”
“They’re called horses,” Marg said from behind.
“I know what they’re called,” Julie snapped. The kids kept their eyes glued to the window of the train. The jet had to land at the top of the mountain, the only airport around. For, as Marg and Rio explained, the city was tight, and the roads and walls narrow. Too much for a hovercraft even. Planes landed in the mountains and trains carried passengers into the city. It hovered over the rails and smoothly glided down the winding tracks alongside the mountain slope. Humans, Jags, and drakes ran through the mountains on their horses. Some hunters, ready to catch their family’s next meal, and others tending their farms. They passed by barns and humble homes laid throughout the slope of the mountain.
“It’s incredible,” Cameron said, who had been standing next to Ace. “It’s like Grandpa’s stories.”
Ace agreed. He thought it looked like someone made a city out of Grandpa.
“Look!” Tamara said, pointing a finger.
“Oh—they’re so handsome!” Julie said.
Elation lit over Ace’s face. “Faes,” he whispered. Some flew by on bird-like creatures called taebans. Their silver and golden feathers glimmered from the sunlight. They had beaks like birds, but four paws like a land beast, and purple eyes. Beautiful as the creatures were, Ace found his eyes had stuck to the faes on land. They walked down a mountain path in large numbers. Mostly sharing the appearance of an Evelander, their pale skin glowed like diamond under a spotlight, and their silver and golden hair shimmered as if a carpenter had just finished his last coat of polish. Or at least for those who had hair. All male faes, save for the ones with golden hair, kept their heads shaved. Males with such hair c
hose not to shave their head, as the gold was considered a rare sign of blessing and nobility among fae culture. Each fae was told from their grayish blue streaks around their skin in elegant patterns and shapes. They were like tattoos, but they weren’t ink in the skin; rather, they grew in on their own as a fae came of age.
The faes catching the grandchildren’s eyes walked a path just next to the train; and as they passed by, Ace caught a vivid glimpse. They were dressed in silver and golden robes, depending on the color of the fae’s hair. Two of them had golden hair. A male and female led their two daughters into the city. The older of the two snatched his gaze. The young fae turned to face him as the train passed. Time seemed to slow. Or had it stopped? The wind blew her polished silver hair gently across her radiant skin. Her eyes, a deep purple, caught him like a fish on a hook. They conveyed a power like New Eathelyn waterfalls, and he imagined diving into them; the water clean enough to drink. A cluster of freckles lightly dotted her nose and the skin under her eyes. Her lips had a touch of pink, and her tattoos were a faded blue. They lined her forehead, curled under her eyes, then wound back and flowed down her neck as if placed there by the hand of a brilliant artist.
Ace felt a hand on his shoulder, and time sped back again. He leaned his head further, but they had passed the faes and were out of sight. The boy turned to find Rio standing behind him. The drake shook his head.
“I don’t want you children speaking to the faes here,” Rio said.
“Why not?” Tamara said.
“Faes in this city have a bad reputation. They may seem like wonderful creatures, but they’re not to be trusted,” Rio said.
Tamara and Julie scoffed. Julie folded her arms.
“Man,” Cameron said, “I’d really like to meet one.”
“Yeah, why are faes so bad, Rio?” Ace said.
Rio stomped his foot. “Enough! Stay away from them, okay? End of discussion.” Rio scowled at him. His eyes suggested Ace not press the matter, for answers would come soon enough. When the Peppercorns and Cameron weren’t around.
