“I am Lady Hailey Yani, Second Duchess of Heleti. I’m pleased to meet people as beautiful as I am.” She curtsied and joined her parents.
Second to last was Tiza. Both Eric’s and Kallen’s faces fell when they saw her outfit. She was indeed wearing a tailored and decorated bodice and minor jewelry, but her skirt was knee length and beneath it was dress pants like Norej’s.
“Tie?” he whispered.
“A short dress is still a dress; five gold.”
“Fine.”
Tiza glared in their direction and a sense of danger raced through the minds of both.
“I’m Tiza Sprial, future grand fighter of the Dragon’s Lair. I was a guest with the Heleti and I’m a teammate for Eric Watley.”
The only one left was Nolien, but he didn’t step through the Arch’s light. No one did. Then the screen flicked off and the Arch shut down. A siren blared.
“Warning! Warning! Ordercraft detected! Ordercraft detected! Warning!”
All the elves present shapeshifted weapons and jumped into formation. Ralm and Eric simultaneously moved their respective girlfriends behind themselves for protection. Ponix ran to a terminal and demanded to know what was happening.
“It’s Nolien Heleti, sir,” an aide in mission control said, “The Arch detected ordercraft inside him and automatically shut down. He is currently imprisoned inside the Arch’s chamber.”
Ponix spun to Mebalos and said, “I hope you can explain this, because if you can’t, then planning your son’s funeral will be the least of your worries.”
Chapter 14 Public Support Polls are Murder
When the Heleti and Darwoss families arrived at Roalt palace, Nolien volunteered to go last. Before they could ask why, he delivered a perfectly lawful explanation that, at the same time, couldn't be further from his true motive. After a sleepless night of pondering his way out of this situation, he discovered a means to resist his geis.
The Darwosses were the official vanguard and so they should go first. His parents should go before their children based on their greater rank, Tiza was a guest, and if he allowed his sister to go last, she would exploit the attention given to the last, similar to one who is fashionably late. Nobody objected, except his sister, and so it was agreed. One by one, the other humans crossed the void, but when it was Nolien’s turn, sirens flared.
“Warning! Warning! Ordercraft detected! Ordercraft detected! Warning!”
The Arch of Kresnik’s teleportation screen shut down, and the chamber itself transformed into a cage. Shutters dropped over the only exit to the room and containment wards activated. The golden-brown glow of so many at once blinded him.
The room was now closed off from the rest of the world: light, sound, and air. Not even a spirit could slip out. Faced with such imprisonment, Nolien sat down and waited. Only ten seconds passed before he heard a voice in the darkness.
“Nolien Heleti?”
“Yes?”
“This is Ponix Enaz, the ambassador of Dnnac Ledo. Why did the Arch of Kresnik detect ordercraft in you? Are you an ordercrafter?”
“No, I am not an ordercrafter, but I am in Order’s debt. In a moment of weakness, he exploited my feelings and my mortality to force me to exchange favors. He placed a geis on me that compelled me to fulfill our contract and forbade me from weaseling out of it.”
“Do you mean my people harm?”
“No. I mean no harm of any kind or any definition to Dnnac Ledo or any other elf village or any elf individual or the elven people as a whole.”
As soon as he finished that sentence, he felt Order’s geis leave him.
We are even now.
The strength of the words knocked him out, and when he regained consciousness, he was in a cell beneath Roalt castle. The fact that he was not in chains was a minor comfort. Before him stood the castle’s mistress and his own sovereign, and she wore a mask of cold rage. He hurried into a respectable kneel.
“Arise, Nolien Heleti.”
With a mix of relief and confusion, he did. Once he was fully standing, she kicked him in the groin as hard as she could. He clutched himself and fell back into a kneeling position.
“You are so frustrating! I had everything worked out...The mission was proceeding smoothly... then you set off the burning alarm! You, all of us, are lucky that the ambassador is a man of understanding and compassion. If the elven supremacists heard about this, they might consider it a declaration of war!”
“My deepest apologies, Your Majesty.”
She smacked his head. “I don’t want your apologies! I am trying to achieve something wonderful for my people that will make their lives better and prove that I am worthy of my heritage. You have made that impossible!”
She smacked his head again. Then she took a deep, calming breath, and moved a hair that had fallen out of place behind her ear. Calmly gripping her gloved hands at her waist, she said, “Do you have anything to say for yourself?”
“What I did, I did out of love.”
“Oh? Tell me more.”
Kasile walked out of the dungeon with conflicted feelings. What was waiting for her in her office made her want to go back and hit him again. The Darwoss Herald was on her desk, and the headlines for the front-page article were as follows:
The Heir of Heleti is an Ordercraft Spy.
The ambient temperature for the entire castle rose five degrees and no one could approach the Royal Office without sweating for two different yet related reasons. Siron calmed her down by bringing her favorite tea and listening to her rant. She would have done so at Eric, but the Chaotic Curtain around Dnnac Ledo scrambled her words and so they came out gibberish.
“Thank you for listening, Siron.”
He bowed and saluted. “It was a pleasure, Lady Kasile.”
She smiled despite herself. “You’re almost there.”
“If were in Najica, I could use honorifics of decreasing formality, but as this is not the case, I must make do with what our language provides.”
She dropped into her chair and sipped more of her tea. Once the cup was safely returned to its pedestal, she asked, “What do you suggest?”
“When my father believed he had reached an impasse during negotiations of any sort, he would ask, ‘What, hypothetically, would you need for x to happen?’. If the person responded with anything short of ‘make Order lie,’ then he would know that they were still willing to negotiate. At that point, it was simply a matter of haggling, of scale, and fine details. The frame for the agreement was still valid.”
“Then you recommend asking such a question of the Supreme Council?”
“No, Lady Kasile. I recommend asking such a question of the civilian population that doesn’t want us there, because unless they are appeased, no human traveling there will be safe.”
Kasile picked up a red scry attached to her desk and asked, “How bad is it?”
“If the Arch was working, I’d send your people back.”
Kasile face palmed. “Ancestor, give me strength.”
“It’s not all bad. Isuna Darwoss has sat down with Amelia Memon, our own newspaper writer. They are currently having a civil conversation about their shared profession.”
SMACK!
“What was that?” Kasile asked.
A woman in a maid outfit walked by Ponix’s office, red in the face, and muttering darkly about how men were the same regardless of their race. She was followed by a man in Ataidar finery, sporting a red handprint on his cheek, and muttering darkly about how women were the same regardless of their race.
“It’s either the end of their budding friendship or the start of belligerent sexual tension.”
“What about the hatemongers, Meza’s faction?”
“They’re camped outside, wearing anti-ordercraft armor, and some guardians have joined them. I succeeded in convincing them not to storm the embassy but everyone is rattled. Worse, Nolien’s rationale has made them paranoid; he’s a nice boy from a moderate family that was under compul
sion by Order. Now they’re afraid of sleeper agents.”
“If we went any other way, it would only confirm their existing fears.”
“Order put us on Morton’s Fork.”
“Abyss…Ambassador Enaz, please ask Meza about options for reconciliation. I wish to prove my country’s sincerity.”
Ponix hung up and Kasile anxiously waited for a return call. She checked her schedule, looked through bills sent to her by the Common and Noble Councils, checked polls measuring the approval rating of people in her government, and otherwise passed the time as best she could. Siron stood at attention beside her desk, as still and silent as a statue.
“Sit down,” she said casually.
“In the royal presence, I must—”
“I order you to sit down and enjoy yourself.”
“If you insist, Lady Kasile.”
He sat down and twiddled his thumbs. Kasile snorted and went back to work. When her scry rang, she snared it like a viper. She took a breath and said, “Yes, Ambassador Enaz?”
“Meza told me his conditions for dismissing his group and forgiving this incident.”
“Yes? And?”
He told her and she dropped her scry. In a flash, Siron picked it up and offered it to her. She smiled out of reflex and accepted it.
“Thank you for that information, Ambassador Enaz. I will pass it on.”
She stood and forced wrinkles out of her skirts. Then she picked them up and walked to the exit. Siron went ahead of her to open the door for her, and when she passed through, he followed behind her. The queen descended into the dungeon for the second time that day and stopped at Nolien’s cell. He acknowledged her respectfully and waited for her to speak.
“I spoke with Ambassador Enaz and he told me what is needed to mend the damage caused by your ‘moment of weakness.’”
“What is it, Your Majesty?”
“You must volunteer for mana mutation.”
A multitude of effects happened simultaneously within Nolien. His heart rate increased, his stomach twisted, and his heart clenched. His medical knowledge of mana mutation, all of its agonizing physical and mental effects, raced to the fore of his mind. He cursed himself, cursed Order, cursed Dosh, and for a second, he even cursed Tiza. Then he came down harder on himself for crossing that line. All this occurred within the space of seconds and none of it appeared on his face. On the outside, nothing happened. All he did visibly was blink.
“Anything else, Your Majesty?”
Kasile nodded. “To prove your new monstrosity, they will perform a series of tests. Your teammates will be sent into the chamber one at a time so you may attack them. After a period of time to allow the new mindset to settle, they will restore your sanity but not your body. You will have to live with whatever new form Lady Chaos chooses to give you.”
“I-I see, Your Majesty. I assume this is to be an ironic punishment. For believing my teammates were more important than their village, I will be turned against my teammates by their village. This is how I take responsibility for my actions.”
“Yes.”
“I assume they also want to show off their technology to prove that it is worth freeing many elven slaves in order to borrow it.” He suddenly broke off into a string of mighty laughter. “It’s so elegant I’d be impressed, if I weren’t the one subjected to it.”
“Second Duke Heleti.”
“Yes, Your Majesty?”
“I give you fair warning: the restoration will not be absolute. There will be changes in behavior, loss of memory, even a new identity. While Director Enaz herself has guaranteed that your mind will become sapient again, she cannot guarantee what kind of shape it will be in. The mutation will be permanent. You, as you exist now, will be gone forever.”
Nolien took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I understand, Your Majesty.”
“No, you don’t!” Kasile said angrily. “The dagger ears want to kill you just so they can revive you like the mad scientists they are!”
A quick blush came and went. Again, she paused to move a strand of hair behind her ear and then she clasped her hands at her waist and continued, “You appear to be under the impression that you have to do this, but you do not. I am not passing judgment on you. You have not broken any of Ataidar’s laws and so I see no need to punish you. I will schedule the Summit somewhere else and we will proceed with human technology; the success story of your teammate is promising and less politically complicated.”
Nolien addressed the floor of his prison. “With all due respect, Your Majesty, I do have to do this. If I don’t, then I will never be able to look my parents in the face again, nor myself, for that matter. Tiza has already lost respect for me and so I can’t go back to her anyway. Besides, like you said, my teammate is a success story, so I’ll be fine.”
“Thank you, Second Duke Heleti. I need more people like you in my nobility.”
As soon as the Arch of Kresnik unlocked, Nolien was escorted to it. The ordercrafter team scanned him for any traces of Order’s power before they allowed him inside. One step later, and he was inside Dnnac Ledo. He expected hostile stares, but what he didn’t expect was pity.
There was his family, of course, and friends like Eric, Kallen, and Emily, but a number of the elves also looked upon him in sympathy. Tiza’s back was turned and she said nothing. Nolien had already accepted this and walked to the exit.
“You’re an idiot, Tenderfoot.” She still didn’t face him. “D-don’t expect me to mourn you.” She sniffed and her shaking shoulders became apparent. “I got all dolled up because of you and…” She sniffed again. “And then you pull this shit...” She sobbed and squeezed her arm.
Nolien looked to his escort, who nodded, and he walked over to her.
“They’re going to fix me up afterward. I’ll be fine.”
Suddenly, she spun around and pounded on his chest. “You’d better be fine because I don’t want to break in a new healer.”
She still didn’t meet his eyes, so he grasped her chin and gently lifted her face. Two trails of tears ran down her face.
He smiled. “Your make-up’s running.”
She glared. “It’s your fault.”
He wiped her tears away.
“Once I become a demon, I’ll no longer be squishy. Then you won’t have to complain about having to protect me.”
Once again, on the verge of tears, she nodded, and Nolien returned to his escort. Then she hugged him from behind and whispered something in his ear. Eric didn’t catch it, but whatever it was, it stunned and flustered Nolien. Just as quickly, she let go and pushed him forward.
“Understand, Tenderfoot?”
“Yes, I do.”
At the exit of the Arch’s chamber, Ponix guided him to the room for teleporting non-living matter. As an explanation, he pointed inside. Resting there was his rowan staff and the sling he used to carry it. He took it in both hands and felt its power reinvigorate him. He put it on his back and walked out straight and tall.
As he walked out, guardians flanked him on both sides with two more in front and behind him. One could imagine them protecting him because they faced away from him and the crowd was indeed hostile. Meza’s group shouted abuse at him as he approached and passed by. They stopped short of striking him, but the strength of their spirits made him faint. He collapsed twice on the way to Hariana Inquires.
The crowd flowed on either side of him as he marched to his destination. They jeered or cheered as suited them. When he arrived at the trunk, the scientists there were glad to see him. One of them hugged and thanked him.
“I haven’t been able to experiment on sapient humans since the Conversion War.”
“You’re welcome,” Nolien said. “I wanted to make a grand contribution to the world of medicine, and here I am making it, but not in the way I intended.” He laughed bitterly.
His final destination was the Medical Mana Mutation lab. The pit was empty. The four lasers were dormant and waiting. Off in the corner wa
s a privacy screen and Nolien was told he could change over there. Taking off his noble finery, he put on a simple and cheap robe. The only thing he kept was his staff and its sling. Nunnal awaited him at the pit's edge.
“This is your last chance to back out.”
Nolien grabbed his staff for strength. This was the same staff he received from his parents when he became a mage. Aside from his medallion, it was the only thing he brought with him when he ran away from home. Now it was the only thing he had left. It hummed in response.
“I’m not here to fulfill my own will but someone else’s.”
“Very well.” To her crew, she shouted, “Start the lances!” Then she spun back around and pointed at the privacy curtain. “His clothing is off-limits! Anyone that steals from him is getting thrown in there with him. Understand?”
“Yes, Director,” they all chorused.
The four Lances of Ciaphas hummed to life as they were switched on. They sparked with highly charged and concentrated mana. Nolien stared at the spot where they converged and where he would jump.
“Do you have any last words?”
“If I do not survive this, then I pray to Lady Chaos that another will because of me.”
With that, he jumped into the pit. Nunnal gave the signal and the four lasers fired. They struck him simultaneously and, at once, he began to change.
The screaming was horrendous. From his head to his toes, every part of his body was shifting at the genetic level. All of them sent contradictory messages to his brain, which was also shifting, and thus distorting them further. The result was a nightmarish sensory overload. He thrashed, shrieked, laughed, sobbed, and curled up, only for fresh changes to rip through him.
“MUTATION FUNDAMENTAL!” Nunnal shouted with a flourish of her arms.
Nolien grew scales, which became fur, which became metal plates, which became cotton and multiple others. His head elongated, twisted, compressed, and grew features changing too quickly to note. His limbs cycled through every variety known to elves and then several more. He became bigger and then smaller and stretched out. With each change, mana bled out of him to be absorbed by the pit, which would contain him when the process was complete. When at last his form settled, the human known as “Nolien Yani of Heleti” was no longer inside the pit.
Mana Mutation Menace (Journey to Chaos Book 3) Page 51
