The Prince's Trap

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The Prince's Trap Page 10

by Griffith, P. D.


  Landon’s head dropped in disappointment.

  “I told you it wouldn’t be easy.” The voice of Dr. Brighton rang through Landon’s head. He looked back at his teacher who stood unmoved. His voice entered Landon’s mind again. “Try again,” he said, unsympathetic towards Landon’s failure.

  For the next few hours, Landon worked to stack the boulders. The sun continued its course across the sky as Landon remained in the clearing. After about the first hour of failure, Landon had to find things to take out his frustrations on. Deciding that its constant flapping in the wind was too much of a distraction, he ripped off his shirt. But even shirtless, he continued to fail. He had yet to think about the fourth stone, as he couldn’t manage to keep the first three stacked.

  “How long do you intend to try the same thing over and over again before you will contemplate an alternative solution?” Dr. Brighton’s voice clanged through Landon’s mind.

  Landon tightened his jaw as he shut his eyes contemptuously. He was exhausted and aggravated, and the sound of Dr. Brighton’s voice in his head only exacerbated his irritations. Landon was beyond appreciating his professor’s little quips and advice. He was attempting to perform what seemed to be an impossible task, one he’d been failing at miserably for hours. No matter how helpful or genuine his intentions, whatever Dr. Brighton said, Landon took as a snarky jab at his inadequacy.

  “If your plan is failing, you must look for another way to achieve your intended goal.”

  It took everything Landon had not to throw the boulder directly at his unsuspecting teacher. Taking a breath to calm himself, he looked back at the rocks scattered on the ground, trying to discern a potential solution to his problem. He may not have wanted to hear it, but Dr. Brighton was right. He had to adjust his strategy.

  Landon assessed the situation. He had three boulders of differing size, shape and weight that he had to stack in an inverted pyramid. He was in the center of a chasm battered by an incessant wind. The issue he was having was properly balancing the awkwardly shaped rocks. Each had random bits jutting out from the sides, or rounded lumps that didn’t allow them to lie flat, and the wind only compounded the imbalance, providing the necessary oomph to topple the tower.

  Landon searched for something that might allow him to succeed. Apart from the boulders he was asked to stack, all he saw was sand. As frustration began to creep back into his mind, he heard Peregrine inside his head telling him he had to look beyond the surface. Shutting his eyes, he engaged his tactometric perception and searched the grounds around him. Trapped below the surface, covered by layers of dirt carried by the wind, were countless pebbles and small rocks, probably chipped from the mountains, which had collected all around him. Then an idea hit him. If the rocks weren’t flat, he needed to make them seem flat. By using the small rocks scattered around the clearing, he might be able to counterbalance the boulders and secure them more soundly.

  Landon concentrated his abilities, and focused on the rocks under the surface. Gritting his teeth, he tensed his muscles as he attempted to lift them. He could feel them pulling up from their sandy graves. Darting out of the ground like rockets out of a silo, they rose into the air but stopped at an imaginary ceiling a few feet off the ground. Landon pulled them in towards him and created a small pile at his side.

  He then went back to stacking the boulders. As before, he started with the smallest. After the hours of hard work, even lifting that one was becoming a challenge. His muscles were sore and fatigued and his mind was exhausted from all the concentration. He then turned to his pile of pebbles and stones. Forcing several small ones out of the mound and floating them over to the stone resting before him, he determinedly collected the smaller stones around the boulder. With the swipe of his other hand, a collection of pebbles arranged themselves on top of the boulder until it looked like a cracked but level cylinder.

  Willing himself to succeed, he lifted the second boulder off the ground while holding his grip on the small pebbles on top of the first. Then he slowly lowered the boulder while simultaneously releasing the small stones. Once Landon completely removed his telekinetic hold on the boulder and the unnecessary pebbles fell away, the second boulder sat atop the first with a few small stones sandwiched between them. As far as he could tell, the second boulder was secure and ready for boulder number three.

  Less than five minutes later, the stone tower was three boulders high and looking quite stable. Landon stared at it for quite a few minutes, waiting to see if it would hold before turning to the last boulder. He found himself panting heavily as the exercise continued to sap him of his energy. The sun was now at its zenith, and even with the wind, Landon was sweating profusely. His bare arms and back dripped with sweat. His hair had arranged itself in large damp clumps that looked like tentacles suctioned to his scalp.

  Once he caught his breath, he turned to the fourth, and final, stone. Squinting to see through the wind and sweat in his eyes, Landon stared at the boulder. Substantially larger than the first three, it was buffed smooth by years of erosion. Landon latched onto the rock with his telekinetic ability, and with a resolute exhale, motioned his right arm to lift it.

  The stone didn’t move. Landon could feel its weight pressing down on him as he struggled to lift it off the ground. The muscles in his arms and back tensed as veins bulged from his neck. With every ounce of his being, he attempted to will the massive stone into the air. Still nothing happened. He pulled at it continuously for over a minute, but with no progress, he had no choice but to release the stone. Landon leaned forward, clutching his knees with his hands to hold himself upright. Not realizing he’d held his breath, Landon gasped for air, his lungs burning as he sucked in the wind.

  Landon could feel his abilities blazing in his core, heating him from his insides as the sun baked his skin. He felt himself admitting defeat; he was so exhausted he could barely hold himself up and he still had the heaviest boulder left to handle. What was Dr. Brighton thinking? Landon wondered. No one could do this. Why did he think I could? They’re just too heavy.

  “Still holding back, I see.” Dr. Brighton’s voice entered Landon’s head again.

  Landon turned to him, aghast at his accusation. Incensed, he replied, sending his thoughts outwardly so Dr. Brighton could hear him, “Are you serious? You’re asking for the impossible.”

  “I don’t believe I am,” he returned, unfazed by Landon’s tone. “You’re holding yourself back. You always hold yourself back. I see it during Pantheon training. I see it on our missions. It’s the reason we’re having this training here today. You’re still afraid of your abilities.”

  “That’s not true,” Landon quickly replied. “I do everything you ask me to.”

  “You could do more,” Dr. Brighton added coolly. “And you know it.”

  Landon said nothing.

  “Embrace the energy building inside you. It is just as I told you when I taught you Tai Chi. It’s all about the ebbs and flows of the energy that course through you, the ying and yang, the push and pull. If you concentrate and accept it, you can learn to focus it and channel it to your will.”

  Landon looked at him in disbelief. He was dumbfounded by the assurance with which Dr. Brighton spoke. How can he have so much confidence in me? he asked himself. Why does he have so much faith?

  “Now lift it already,” Dr. Brighton commanded telepathically. “You managed to lift a bus full of people before you even had a shred of training. This should be easy.”

  Refocused and rejuvenated by his teacher’s words, Landon turned to the last boulder waiting to join his still-standing stone tower. Falling back to his early lessons with Dr. Brighton, Landon steadied his breathing and widened his stance, bringing his hands up to enter his starting Tai Chi position.

  Landon stepped forward; following the fluid sequence of motions he’d been taught, he transitioned from one position
to the next. As he swayed back and forth, he could feel the wind curl around him as if the elements were bending to support his actions. Then with a final motion forward, Landon swept his arms up, and like a magnifying glass in the sun, focused the psychokinetic energy burning in his core to raise the massive boulder. Nothing happened. Landon could feel the weight of the boulder pressing against his body as he willed it to rise from the ground, but it wouldn’t budge. Perhaps it really was too heavy.

  Unwilling to fail, Landon let go of the power he was holding back and attacked the boulder with another wave of telekinetic force. It remained still. Then, like a suction cup being pulled from a pane of glass, the pressure lessened. Moving ever so slowly, the boulder began to rise into the air. Flecks of dirt and small rocks fell from its underbelly as it gained height, inch by inch, at a steady pace. A smile stretched across Landon’s face as the boulder continued to gain altitude.

  “Boys, it’s break time!” The unexpected voice echoed through Landon’s mind at a startling volume. It immediately broke his concentration and made him lose his grip on the heavy stone. It fell and crashed into the dirt with a muffled thud, forcing the ground to shake. “I brought lemonade.”

  Infuriated by the interruption, Landon spun around, a tirade of strongly worded phrases on the tip of his tongue. But when he saw Sofia Petrovanya standing at the entrance to the chasm—her blonde hair blowing in mesmerizing patterns behind her pale white face as her ice blue eyes gleamed in the sunlight—and holding a tray of fresh, iced lemonade, Landon felt his rage subside.

  • • • • •

  Landon, Sofia and Dr. Brighton retreated to a small square table under a shaded pergola on the lakeshore, just a short walk from Dr. Brighton’s pagoda. The cool breeze off the lake felt good against Landon’s bare chest. In his haste to quench his thirst with Sofia’s lemonade, he had forgotten to grab his shirt from the dirt. Collapsing into his seat at the table, Landon let out a sigh as his muscles relaxed. Before Dr. Brighton and Sofia could sit, he had managed to gulp down another full glass of lemonade without pausing.

  Sofia had set out for them a full spread of sandwiches—tuna fish salad and egg salad on toasted wheat bread, turkey and roast peppers on focaccia, roast beef with horseradish on rye—and bowls filled with fruit salad and potato salad as well as pitchers of water, lemonade and iced tea. It was the perfect midday summer meal. Looking at it, Landon couldn’t help but be reminded of the many summertime picnics he had shared in the city park with his mother. She’d bring a basket filled with sandwiches and treats, and they’d spend hours in the park, eating on a blanket, reading and playing in the open grass.

  Landon’s stomach gurgled from hunger. The hours of tense, strenuous training had left him famished. At first he was enraged by Sofia’s interruption, but once he laid eyes on the spread before him, he decided Sofia couldn’t have come at a better time. Looking to her for the go-ahead, Landon anxiously awaited the moment he could dig into the feast.

  Sofia leisurely mixed Arnold Palmers for Dr. Brighton and herself and casually admired the pleasant surroundings, unaware of Landon’s intense gaze. When she finally realized Landon was waiting for her approval to start eating, she didn’t hesitate.

  “Please, go ahead. You must be starving,” she said as she motioned to the plates of food.

  Nearly diving out of his seat, Landon quickly loaded his plate with several sandwiches and hefty piles of fruit and potato salad. He even managed to sample a few sandwiches before they reached his plate. He was behaving as if he hadn’t eaten in a week. Sofia and Dr. Brighton watched Landon with amusement.

  “That’s quite the plateful,” Dr. Brighton said once Landon relaxed back in his chair with a mountain of food in front of him. Dr. Brighton lowered himself into a seat across from Landon, and before putting a morsel of food on his plate, he pulled his wavy dark hair back and tied it up in a ponytail with a rubber band.

  Landon could feel his face begin to redden with embarrassment, as he became suddenly aware of his less-than-proper dining behavior.

  “Oh, leave him alone,” Sofia remarked after a sip of her Arnold Palmer, the sound of ice tinkling against the sides of her glass as she spoke. “It probably takes a lot to maintain a physique like that. Doesn’t it, Landon?” Sofia paused, looking at Landon with a happy expression. “I can’t believe how much you’ve changed. When I brought you here, you were a stick . . . withering away. Now look at you, with all those muscles. Your hard work is obviously paying off. The ladies must not be able to keep their hands off you,” she added with a smirk.

  Landon suddenly wished he had remembered to grab his shirt back in the mountains. He could feel the warmth radiating from his face as blood filled his cheeks. He could only imagine what shade of red he was after Sofia’s comment. There was truth to her statement, but even so, he was embarrassed to hear someone mention it, especially Sofia. The months of rigorous training had resulted in Landon gaining quite a bit of muscle. He definitely was in the best physical condition of his life. Even participating in a number of sports that his mother had pressured him to try hadn’t prepared him for the physical requirements of being an active field agent in the Pantheon. He was nowhere near as bulky as Brock, but he had developed quite the athletic build.

  Nervously, Landon stuffed his face with numerous bites of sandwich to avoid having to respond.

  After a few moments of silence, Sofia abandoned the topic and moved on with the conversation.

  “So how was the training going?” she asked, looking to both of them for an answer.

  Dr. Brighton took it upon himself to respond as he carefully chose sandwiches and salad for his lunch, using his long, lean arms to arrange his selections meticulously on his plate. “Very well,” he said. “It’s astounding how much Landon’s improved in accessing his abilities since we started these sessions last fall, and I’m constantly surprised by how strong he is. He has quite a knack for telekinetics, in case you weren’t aware.”

  “Really?” she replied, seemingly astonished by Dr. Brighton’s comments. “How so?”

  “Well, let’s put it this way,” Dr. Brighton continued. “I’m beginning to think there’s nothing Landon isn’t strong enough to lift.”

  Landon still felt somewhat embarrassed by the conversation, but he also felt a sense of pride well up from within as Dr. Brighton sang his praises. He’d never heard someone talk so positively and encouragingly about his talents. “Well, I wasn’t having much luck with that boulder,” Landon interjected humbly.

  “Ah, I’m sure you would have managed it had you not been interrupted.” Dr. Brighton gave Sofia an accusatory glare, but cracked a smile seconds later.

  Sofia played along and wore a shocked and appalled expression that reminded Landon of Scarlett O’Hara from Gone with the Wind. Instantly, Landon let out a soft chuckle as he imagined her saying “Well, I do declare,” in an exaggerated Southern accent.

  “What?” Sofia asked Landon, giggling herself.

  “He’s obviously laughing at you,” Dr. Brighton said.

  “Really?” Sofia replied, aghast.

  “No!” Landon answered abruptly.

  “Oh, don’t deny it, Landon,” Dr. Brighton added.

  “Now Landon,” Sofia interrupted with a serious expression on her face. “You can be honest. I can take it. Were you laughing at me?”

  “No! I—” Landon was at a loss for words. He looked to Dr. Brighton for help but he too was staring at Landon with a deadpan expression.

  Suddenly, Landon noticed a tick in Dr. Brighton’s face that seemed to be pulling at his lips. Then without warning, he burst out laughing. Almost instantly, Sofia abandoned her solemnity and joined in the guffaws.

  Landon stared at them as if they’d gone crazy, but their laughter was contagious, and slowly, his mouth stretched into a grin and he joined in, though his laught
er was drowned out by those of his dining partners.

  After everyone seemed to gather themselves, they went back to amicably eating their lunch, laughing and chatting about this and that in between mouthfuls of fruit and gulps of their beverages. As the meal neared a close, Landon realized he had a huge smile on his face. The frivolity and ease of conversation and the noticeable friendship warmed him. Celia’s wrong about him, he thought as he caught Dr. Brighton admiring Sofia while she stared off at the lake.

  Beep! Beep!

  Beep! Beep!

  Puzzled, Landon looked around for the source of the sound, and found Dr. Brighton and Sofia both reaching into their pockets. Seemingly in unison, they each pulled out a small, thin rectangular device; it was translucent blue and as thin and small as a business card, and they both stared at it for a minute.

  “Well, Landon,” Dr. Brighton started as he began to tuck the device back in his pocket, “it looks like we’re going to have to call it quits for today. Dr. Wells has called an assembly, so we need to finish up here and head back to the Gymnasium.”

  “It’s that time of year,” Sofia added matter-of-factly as she started to lift herself out of her seat.

  Landon and Dr. Brighton followed suit and rose from their chairs, placing their napkins on their plates and preparing to leave the Secret Garden. Landon grabbed his plate and tried to gather a few of the dishes in his arms, thinking they’d need to carry them to the pagoda’s kitchen before heading out, but before he turned from the table, Dr. Brighton stopped him.

  “Don’t worry about that stuff,” he told Landon. “Sofia and I will take care of it later.”

  Landon set the plates back down and when he turned, found Dr. Brighton already starting down the path towards the exit that would lead them into the woods and back to the Gymnasium.

 

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