Destiny's Kingdom: Legend of the Chosen

by Daniel Huber

  Along the floor was a trail of silver dust. Shimmering powder, like Mimic's, only silver rather than gold. Quade stared at it, puzzled. There was a flickering light coming from the bedroom, the door was slightly ajar. He glanced about the walls for any sign of the emissaries and saw none, but instead felt a curious tickle at what he did sense. He crossed the common room and slipped into the hall, a familiar warmth coming closer as he approached his bedroom.

  Pushing the door open the muted light of a single candle flickered weakly off the ceiling and Quade found his bed to already be occupied. Relief and content washed through him when he saw the snowy white hair against his dark sheets, long, slender, sun-kissed arms wrapped around a pillow. Trina's face was turned away from the doorway, but she stirred as he walked to kneel at the bedside.

  "Hey," he said gently, laying his hand on her bare back. "What a beautiful surprise." She sighed and turned her head on the pillow, looking up at him sleepily in the pale, fluttering light.

  "I was starting to wonder if you were going to get back tonight. I guess I fell asleep waiting for you."

  "What fine occasion is this that I find you breaking into my house and crawling into my bed?" Quade leaned down close to the mattress, brushed a lock of hair from Trina's eyes.

  "Some might be content to call it an act of mystery and romance," she replied, her voice dreamily teasing.

  "Imagine that…romantic unauthorized home entry. Quite an unusual combination, and a questionable trait I think, for a future Keystone to possess."

  "I like to think of it as being well-rounded in all the arts." She smiled at him, but her smile quickly vanished. "I was worried about you. This morning you seemed so out of sorts."

  "I'm sorry," he said, "I was out of sorts."

  "I don't want you to apologize, Quade. I'd like for you to tell me what's wrong. But until then I just wanted to make sure that you were safe."

  "Safe and sound, my love." The thought crossed his mind at how ironic it was that Trina was worried about his safety. He struggled with his words, couldn't bear to lie to her. "But I've had this lingering sense of feeling ill, of late."

  "Aazrio told me that you mentioned feeling sick to my father. You left that part out this morning at the stables." Her words were not accusing, but warm and concerned.

  "I didn't want you to worry. But trying to keep it to myself didn't work very well either did it? I suppose you know me all too well." He smiled, tried to make light of the situation, to keep her from being burdened, but Trina's words carried more news that was troublesome.

  "That may be true but everyone has seemed just a little out of character lately and Aazrio told me the strangest thing tonight. He said that my father has wished for complete seclusion. He didn't even come down for dinner and we were having one of his favorite meals."

  "Probably just a lingering effect of his last trip. Maybe the peace covenant on Maylyn wasn't quite so peaceful as he'd expected. Or maybe it's that space travel is taking its toll on more than just me." Quade wanted to change the topic as quickly as he could. "But I'm feeling fine now. Better than fine with you here." Trina reached a hand from beneath the pillow, twined her fingers in his long hair and Quade's eyes grew heavy and weary.

  "Well come lay down then, you look exhausted."

  "Not exhausted. Just savoring the moment. This is a rare occasion indeed." Trina rolled to her side and leaned to him, the sheet falling from her shoulders, and she kissed his lips, his cheeks.

  "Well savor it next to me then. I didn't come here so you could kneel on the floor and watch me sleep in your bed."

  And his bed hadn't ever felt so inviting, so much a haven. Trina blew out the candle over his shoulder as he drew her into an embrace, and Quade mused to himself that everything in his world seemed right once she was in his arms. Aazrio had always been so militant in his protectiveness but holding Trina now was the clearest sense of ease that Quade could imagine, for Aazrio could not protect her from the things that Quade knew. It was all the better that she was out of the castle, away from the threat of any harm. His mind eased into contented bliss, and his body followed close behind, putting aside the weight of the world, of the galaxy in fact, and simply indulging in a moment of his life.

  The Daughter Keystone stepped carefully within the octagonal tiles of flat stone that paved the streets of Sigh City using great caution that she did not touch the self-chosen boundary of the mortar in between. On tiptoe, she spun gracefully around, her long, pleated cape twirling out and wrapping about her as she hopped to another tile, which was just big enough to fit her foot, turned about-face and crouched down low. Agility, Trina thought, and unpredictability. Two good traits to employ in a fight. The sun had not yet risen over the high tops of the tress that stood tall along the streets, but the dusky glow of pre-dawn cast a bluish light over the dome shaped houses and the neatly kept roads. Though the city didn't possess the ancient feel that the Castle and village did with it's cobbled streets and stone-lined footpaths, the blue-black flat stone used for the more frequently traveled roads had a natural quicksilver sheen that was pleasant to look on, and the homes and nearby shops splayed out in a unique pattern around all the towering trees and the sloping hills.

  The city was quiet and still at rest for the most part, and she was alone in her thoughts and her performance. Trina laughed quietly to herself as she hopped and jumped along the street, imitating a routine she favored during a particular combat exercise she practiced with Aazrio. She wondered if he had missed her last night when she'd snuck out, wondered if she'd be able to slip back into the Castle undetected and be able to avoid the disapproving gaze he'd surely have for her if she did not. Climbing the wall beneath her window wasn't quite so easy for her as it was for Quade, and though she could do it, she generally preferred to slip into the rear port door that she'd conveniently left unlocked behind her as she'd left. Trina had oftentimes tried with no success to harness a levitating type of magic, thinking that it would make coming back so much easier whenever she decided to slip away undetected. But as Aazrio had told her, that was not the type of magic she had been gifted with, though she sometimes wondered if he only said that because he did not wish for her to learn something so useful for stealthy returns to her bedroom from a late-night escape.

  Suddenly she heard a humming in the distance, and she stopped her dance of combat on the footpath. She pulled the hood of her cloak over her telltale hair and grasped the signal transmitter in her palm. It was Quade's transmitter, and his name would be the one that showed up on the display readout of the transport that came to pick her up. Trina's contented smile was hidden within the cowl of her cloak as she thought to herself of the potential confusion it would cause for the driver of the transport to see that indeed it wasn't Quade who would be riding in the back. She tightened her grip on the garment under her chin, remembering Quade's weak protests against her leaving his warm bed just a quarter hour ago. He was still sleepy at the dawn of this day, whereas she was wide awake and eager to busy herself with the final preparations for that evening's festivities. It was easier this way, besides; if she were able to slip back into the Castle neither of them would have to face Aazrio's disapproval later on. Trina slid quietly into the rear of the craft and the driver hardly looked back to her, rather, he read the name off of the display of his vehicle as he greeted his fare.

  "Good morning, Qua-"

  The driver turned around, just in time to see Trina flip the hood of her cloak back, revealing who was concealed beneath the deep confines. She glanced at him knowingly, and spoke before he had the chance.

  "Dawn is such a fine time to enjoy the city, wouldn't you agree? The streets possess a serenity that I find so…charming."

  "Daughter Keystone Kitrina, 'tis an honor," the driver managed, and she raised her eyebrow, slowly let a quizzical smile spread over her lips as he stumbled over his words. "Whatever are you doing in Sigh City, alone and before dawn?" Trina smoothed her hands over the front of her garment method
ically as she answered.

  "Does it seem odd that I should choose to walk this kingdom sir?" She looked at him directly then, and cocked her head. "Or was it just that you were expecting someone else?"

  "Apologies, Daughter Keystone. It's just the hail that you used was from…someone else."

  "Indeed it was."

  The driver turned to face forward awkwardly, and Trina leaned up into his shoulder. "What's your name, driver sir?"

  "Shel Fedorum, fair lady."

  "If you please Shel," she said, her voice hushed, "Take me home now. As you must know well, I've much to do to prepare for tonight's Twilight Bloom. I trust that I'll see you there?"

  "Without a doubt, Daughter Keystone. I've never missed it and never shall." Trina settled back into the seat, skillfully stowing enough neatly folded paper money into the driver's coat pocket to pay for a dozen trips from Quade's house to the Castle. The driver would never knowingly allow her to pay for this ride, but later he would find the gift that she was more than happy to give him.

  "I'm quite certain that you can keep this fare a mystery between just yourself and me?" she asked, looking back to the thick vines of whiteflower ivy that trailed around Quade's door.

  "To hold a secret for the daughter Keystone!" The driver glanced over his shoulder as he maneuvered the craft toward the Castle of Sighs. "What greater honor than that?"

  CHAPTER 27

  Clea laughed, threw back her head and kicked Krisel's chair indignantly.

  "Imagine the possibilities Clea," Krisel sat up dramatically, fixed his stare on an imaginary future. "If you became Ryder Deluka's mistress, maybe he'd pay you to not share all kinds of secrets, inter-galactic or otherwise…"

  "Stop!" she commanded with a horrified laugh. "Not for any amount of money or magic! Curse this day, Krisel, that you should ever utter a thought so unspeakable! Ryder is a strategic business associate, nothing and never anything more."

  "Wouldn't surprise me if he had another contract for you when you get home." Delora glanced at the readout. "He'd probably just as quickly contract you to go back out on the eve of Twilight Bloom."

  "Well I doubt that," Clea replied, noting that they were coming up soon on the nexus point that would take them to Bethel, and would allow for both Gannet and Delora to catch passage to their home systems. "I think Ryder still has a few inoffensive bones in his body."

  "Weren't you planning on attending Twilight Bloom this time, Gannet?" Krisel moved to toggle a couple of directional levers on the panel, adjusting the bearing of Duplicity as she traveled in open space. He was piloting while Clea leaned back and relaxed, Delora monitored the sensors and Gannet carefully browsed the operational systems for any inconsistencies.

  "We thought about it but decided to wait," Gannet spoke deliberately slow, not distracting his attention from his work. Clea glanced at him with a little smile; he was always so meticulous, even when there was nothing to warrant his detail-oriented nature. "Next year my youngest boy will be old enough to remember it and my whole family will go. I really do miss Bethel… but since my wife's parents' health has been fragile, they've needed us nearby, so we'll have to live off planet for at least another year. By then both kids will be old enough to really enjoy the Twilight Bloom, and we'll go back."

  "It is a grand night indeed." Clea stared at the ceiling, let her thoughts wander. "I get hungry just thinking about the food…"

  "Delora, analyze that fluctuation," Gannet cut Clea short as he saw something from the corner of his eyes on the sensor readout. "Has it been doing that for long?"

  "No Gannet, it just started. Probably just an inconsistency in the sensor readout."

  "There's no inconsistency; I just ran a diagnostic on the scanners. Flash back and augment that wave."

  Clea turned her head to look at the sensor readout and watched the strange array of interference that fed across the screen. "That's weird. Looks like the wave from gamma radiation. What's the source?"

  "Straight ahead, on course," Delora squinted at the display. "No particular origin, it just seems to be there. We're coming up on the Bet/Med nexus though… maybe there's something going on up there."

  "Krisel open the subspace communication link." Clea finally sat up in her chair, opened a display that showed activity in the area. Krisel bypassed the galactic central communications matrix and switched over to Duplicity's subspace link. It was another specialized modification of the ship, gave them the ability to hear ship to ship conversations that weren't encrypted, and could even be modified to decrypt those that were, if necessary. A barrage of conversations hit their ears, so scrambled that Krisel had to filter out all but the strongest signals. By the time they came into visual range of the Bet/Med nexus, they had sorted out enough of the garbage to get the gist of what was going on, but by then they could see for themselves that trouble was ahead. The Bet/Med nexus could not be seen because the Bet/Med nexus was not there.

  "Diverting traffic… to Begomie… all Bethel bound spacecraft… going… unexplained… detour… " Even at the close range they were in the communications of the ships that had gathered to jump into the nexus was garbled and unclear. Clea stared out of the forward viewers to the sight before her, the scattered particles that glowed green and spread over the entire viewable area of space.

  "What's that?" Clea puzzled as she saw something out of place. "Delora, what is that?"

  "What is what?" Dolora was busy trying to get an analysis on the debris they were seeing.

  "That ship… that transport ship is from Calacomest. What is it doing out here? Those little transits only run between short range systems. Why would it be all the way out here?"

  "I don't know," Delora glanced up but then looked back to her readout. "What matter that it’s out here?"

  "It's strange is all. It's an awfully long way from its home," Clea stopped her mind from processing the idea any further as her eyes traveled over the scope of space, the glowing debris that was getting thicker as they moved toward it, and the chaotic voices that passed over the subspace link. A cold creeping sensation began to seep through her stomach as she listened to the confused, broken messages sent back and forth between the ships and she glanced down to the display that Gannet was maniacally sorting through.

  "Gannet," she said quietly, keeping her voice at an even tone. "What's the theoretical make up of a nexus point?"

  "Well Clea theoretically, and this is a condensed version at best, a nexus point is nothing but intensely compressed energy in the form of a black hole. Contained by the magic of the gods it's a usable entry that bridges the gap between nexus points, which then become the leylines."

  "And if something happened to disrupt this containment… what would we see?"

  "Its makeup, in an uncontained form, would be one of radiation, gamma rays…"

  "High level radiation, x-rays…" Clea finished the list, mumbling frantically. "Away… away… get us away!" Her fingers were a blur as they moved over the control panel, and the ship banked hard to port as Clea changed their heading. "Krisel… full power on this heading… now!" Clea pulled up a map of the area of space they were in, glanced over it hastily. "Gannet, judging by the amount of traffic here, diverting to Begomie would take how long? An hour in open space then how long from there to Bethel?"

  "Begomie to Bethel is about a two hour jump. But there's no accounting for the level of traffic that might be gathered there already, and how long it would take to get through that."

  Clea was muttering to herself as she charted an alternate course. "How can this be happening… it was fine when we were here before!" She glanced up at Gannet, who watched her with the eyes of someone who knows that something is more that what it seems. "Just two hours ago…two hours!" She looked away, looked back to her display. "We could go here to here…" she hoped no one noticed that her finger was trembling as she pointed out the alternate routes they could take, "but that would take just as long… back to Medius and then through here… would take the res
t of the day…" It was Gannet's voice that broke her manic rambling.

  "Well there's always Oracuu." Clea's gazed fixed upon the holographic image before her, to the system of Oracuu which was displayed in a deep purple color, showing that it was heavily guarded, and not a place of easy travel. Oracuu was shrouded in even more secrecy than Tal-Min Vista but Clea nodded her head as she did the math of how long the journey would take. She looked to Gannet who stared at her steadily. "But Clea… no matter which way we go you won't get back to Bethel in time for Twilight Bloom."

  "Krisel, lock in a course to Oracuu."

  "Course plotted and locked in, Clea."

  "ETA?"

  "Two hours, twenty one minutes travel time. But there's no accounting for the permits, verification of intention, confirmation of identification…"

  Clea smiled tightly. "Just leave those worries to me, Krisel."

  "What do you make of that whole thing going on back there?" Delora continued to comb through the readouts of energy, the strange waves that crossed the readout of what was polluting the area where the Bet/Med nexus should be… but wasn't. "It's reading like a black hole now…just a black hole where there used to be a contained nexus point. How could that be?"

  "I'm not sure, Delora. But those gamma rays and high level radiation was going to do nothing but harm to our holographic matrix. Gannet—"

  "I'll run another diagnostic on the way to Oracuu." His fingers typed effortlessly on the keypad but he looked up at Clea when she glanced at him. On a locked slider of the running board along the control panel, Clea typed in a code and a little door slid open. She tossed her regular wrist cron into the compartment and pulled out a much more elaborate device and strapped it to her wrist. As she prompted the panel door shut, she gave a private, meaningful look to Gannet and his eyes narrowed, then he nodded slightly.