The Missing Monarch

by Rachelle Mccalla

But before Octavian finished his sentence, another voice carried through the room. “No, Octavian. You have wronged my family.”

  Thad spun around at the sound of his father’s weak but unmistakable voice.

  Queen Elaine had entered the throne room from one of the back hallways, pushing the former King Philip in a wheelchair.

  Philip continued, “My family owes you nothing. Lydia owes you nothing.” He turned to face Thad. “Son, if you will open the scepter, you will find inside the key that opens the file drawer under the display case of the crown. There you will find a record of every agreement I ever made with Octavian, including the history of his royal titles, which I now hereby denounce on grounds of treason.”

  Octavian stiffened visibly. His upraised, gloved hand twitched as he lowered his index finger. His hand now stabbed skyward like a fist. “I have your wife and son.” He addressed Thad. “If you wish to be held liable for their deaths, by all means, unlock the drawer. If you wish to have your wife and son returned to you, sign the document and hand over the scepter!”

  Thad hesitated. His father’s arrival had tipped the tables, but the upset only appeared to have made Octavian that much more desperate. Thad looked over and met Monica’s eyes. “What do you think I should do?” he asked aloud.

  “I think—” She licked her lips nervously and dipped her head as though she wanted to speak with him alone and not be overheard by anyone else. But the room was too large and crowded for that to happen. Nonetheless, she lowered her voice. “You should have your family and your men clear the room.”

  Her request seemed odd. He hadn’t expected such a specific response. And yet, as he took a step back, he realized the two guards who’d come in with Octavian were fiddling with something.

  Not guns.

  He couldn’t see clearly what the men had, but he felt the warning Monica had been trying to send. Octavian’s upraised fist shifted. He extended all four of his fingers.

  Thad watched, wondering if the man was counting down, or trying to send some kind of warning.

  Then he realized Octavian’s message wasn’t for him.

  It was for the guards who’d come in with him, a preplanned signal for destruction. They didn’t have guns. They held something far more deadly.

  Detonation devices.

  All at once, Thad realized precisely why Octavian had wanted to meet in this particular room. He’d had it rigged while the royal family was ousted. And he had every intention of destroying any evidence that would prove he had no right to the throne.

  Thad dived across the table toward Monica and Peter as he screamed, “Clear the room!”

  * * *

  Monica watched the scene unfold as if in slow motion. On the edges of her peripheral vision, she saw the princesses on the balcony above sprint for the safety of the doorways behind them. Elaine whipped Philip’s wheelchair around and pushed it toward the back door.

  Thad slid across the table toward them, but he couldn’t possibly reach them in time. Octavian stood between them. And the heavily armored tyrant didn’t seem nearly as concerned about the potential explosives as the rest of the occupants of the room.

  Which meant his body armor was likely strong enough to protect him from whatever was about to erupt.

  Monica put the facts together quickly. Petrela had told Natalie that he would cover Peter.

  At the time, she hadn’t understood what he’d meant by his cryptic instructions. Now she guessed that Petrela’s armor could withstand the blast—that he could protect Peter.

  She plucked up her son and shoved him toward the waiting general’s outstretched arms. She didn’t know what Petrela intended to do with Peter once the smoke cleared, but at least her son would be protected during the blast.

  Petrela gathered Peter in his wide embrace, settling him quickly against the stone floor, covering him as a series of eruptions spewed fire and smoke all around them.

  Monica felt someone slam into her. For one disoriented moment, she thought perhaps Thad had gotten past Octavian after all.

  But then she realized it was Octavian.

  He pulled her through the chaos toward a doorway.

  She tried to fight him, but the eruptions had her doubled over in a fit of coughing. Whatever had just exploded sent tears to her eyes, stinging her throat.

  She stumbled.

  Octavian hauled her after him, his grip surprisingly strong, his stride steady as they ducked down the hall. Monica lunged the other way, but before she could break free from his grasp, she felt the cold press of metal against her back. A gun.

  “If you want to live to see your son again, you’ll come with me.”

  Still hardly able to talk or breathe, Monica wasn’t sure how to respond. She wanted to get away from Octavian, to get back to her husband and son. And yet, she was certain the tyrant behind her had been pushed to the breaking point. He wouldn’t hesitate to pull the trigger.

  He tugged her around a corner and froze.

  Guards barred the way ahead of them.

  Octavian cursed.

  Monica sensed the man’s panic level reaching a critical state. He was surrounded. For a man who hated losing, who’d never given up the tantrums of toddlerhood, a critical state of panic wasn’t an option.

  The barrel of the gun jabbed deeper under her ribs.

  Monica looked back down the hallway and recognized the small storage room that led to the tunnel under the sea.

  If she could convince Octavian to escape through the tunnel, maybe he would cool down. She could get away from him later, or Thad could find her. Maybe. Or maybe she’d just end up giving away a national secret that had gone undetected for hundreds of years.

  As the smoke cleared in the hallway, the guards ahead of them spun around, spotting them.

  “Don’t come any closer, or I’ll shoot her!” Octavian had sweat dripping in beads down his forehead, sliding in slimy trails off his upper lip.

  She heard the thunder of boots up ahead. More guards were coming.

  Octavian’s grip tightened on her arm. The hand that held the gun twitched more crazily the closer the guards came.

  “I can get you out of here,” she whispered. “There’s a secret passage.”

  “No. The passage is up ahead.” He motioned past the guards. “It leads to the catacombs. I have a helicopter waiting at the other end.”

  “There’s another passage behind us. Let me show you. It leads under the sea.”

  Octavian hesitated. More guards arrived at the end of the hallway. There was no way Octavian would reach the passage he’d planned for his escape.

  He tugged her backward. “Show me the way. But if you try to get away, I’ll shoot you.”

  * * *

  Thad scrambled through the smoke and flames toward the spot where he’d last seen Monica.

  She was gone.

  The smoke rose slowly and he sank toward the floor, coughing. The air was clearer lower down, and he could just make out a tangle of arms and legs ahead of him. The man’s uniform looked familiar.

  Struggling to breathe in the poisoned air, Thad crawled across the floor to the figures.

  “Petrela,” he sputtered against the burn in his lungs.

  The man rose slowly, revealing the child he’d held protected against the floor. “Your son, Your Majesty.” The general lifted Peter to standing, handing him over freely.

  Peter rose shakily to his knees. Already th
e smoke had begun to dissipate through the lofty room, and Thad was breathing easier. He heard the spurting of fire extinguishers around him as the guards put out the small blazes that had erupted. Thad was nearly certain Octavian had only meant to create enough of a diversion to allow himself an opportunity to get away—not enough to risk any injury to himself.

  If he’d meant for them to be killed, they would have been.

  “Daddy?” Peter smiled uncertainly.

  “Yes.” Thad crawled closer and scooped the little boy onto his lap.

  Peter looked at him warily. “Where’s Mommy?”

  Thad looked around. Most of the people had cleared out of the room, except for the guards who’d extinguished the flames. He saw no sign of Monica.

  Petrela shook his head. “Octavian took her. He was planning to get away through a secret passage. I can show you the way.”

  As they rose to their feet, Alec trotted over as quickly as his orthopedic brace would allow. “All my men have checked in. The exits are secure. Octavian hasn’t left the building.”

  “Show us the passageway,” Thad instructed Petrela. He carried Peter in his arms, the little boy clinging to him as he ran after the general down the hallway. A crowd of guards filled the corridor.

  Thad recognized Linus, one of Kirk’s trusted friends. “Did Octavian come this way?”

  The guard nodded apologetically. “He was holding Monica hostage. I couldn’t allow my men to advance—the man was desperate. He was ready to pull the trigger.”

  “They got no farther down the hall?” Petrela clarified.

  “They retreated back this way.” The guard pointed. “By the time we came around the corner, they’d disappeared. We can’t find them anywhere.”

  “Where could they go from there?” Petrela asked.

  Thad looked at the general. He wasn’t sure how much he should trust a man who’d worked closely with Octavian, but Petrela had kept Peter safe and handed him over, even though he’d had ample opportunity to escape with the heir in the confusion.

  Petrela seemed to sense Thad’s wariness. “I’ve been collecting evidence against Octavian for the last five years. We can put him away on a hundred different charges, but we have to find him first.” He pointed past the guards. “The entrance to the secret passage is that way. If he didn’t get past these guards, he couldn’t have used it.” Petrela looked at Alec and Kirk, who’d been checking in with their men.

  “No one else has seen any sign of him,” Kirk confirmed. “All the exits are covered.”

  “Then he’s got to be somewhere in the palace,” Alec concluded.

  Thad felt his shoulders droop. The palace had more than a hundred rooms. Searching it could take forever. “Keep your men posted at all the exits and windows,” Thad instructed Alec and Kirk. “Have the rest of your troops do a thorough search.”

  Isabelle and Levi ran up behind them.

  “Where’s Monica?” Isabelle asked.

  As Kirk and Alec dispersed to instruct their men, Thad hugged Peter to his chest and explained, “Octavian took her. They’ve got to be somewhere in the building. We have reason to believe Octavian knows about some of the secret passages.”

  “There are hundreds of places to hide in the palace,” Isabelle moaned.

  “Your father has a map of the passages,” Levi reminded her. “We can take a look and start searching.”

  “It’s not an exhaustive map,” Thad acknowledged, “but it’s an excellent place to start. You two get on that.”

  As the pair ran off down the hall hand in hand, Peter whimpered, “Mommy’s missing?”

  “Yes.” Thad tried not to let his regret overwhelm him. His son was in his arms, and he still held the scepter tight in one hand. Octavian hadn’t won.

  Not yet, anyway.

  THIRTEEN

  “We should pray for Mommy,” Peter whispered.

  Thad swallowed past the lump in his throat. “Yes,” he agreed. “We should.” He wasted no time launching into a murmured prayer, his eyes pinched shut as he begged God to protect Monica and help them find her.

  Peter surprised him by joining in without hesitation. “Help us find Mommy. And make it so my daddy never has to go away again. And please, God, can we all be together?”

  As he listened to his son’s earnest plea, Thad felt tears rush down his cheeks. Monica had been right. Peter didn’t hate him. He just wanted to be a family.

  For a moment, Thad’s thoughts flitted to the conversation he’d shared with Monica in the tunnel that led under the sea.

  And then he thought about the tunnel, the most secret of all the secret passages, which only he and his father and Monica knew about. And the entrance, which was down the hall in the direction the guards had told him Octavian had taken Monica.

  Thad gave Peter and extra squeeze. “Let’s go look for Mommy.” He trotted back up the hallway in the direction of the throne room and the small storage room where the tunnel entrance was hidden.

  Richard and Sheila Miller hurried down the hall toward them.

  “Grandpa and Grandma!” Peter squealed excitedly at the sight of two people he knew and trusted.

  Thad handed him over. “Take care of Peter. I need to look for Monica.”

  Richard scooped his grandson into his arms. “If you can bring my daughter back, safe and sound...” He met Thad’s eyes, and Thad saw the promise of forgiveness shimmering there.

  “I’ll do my best,” Thad promised.

  Thad ran back down the hall and ducked into the small room. A shuffle of footprints on the dusty floor indicated pairs of feet had passed through the space recently, but Thad couldn’t be sure whether he and Monica had created the prints the night before, or if they were fresh.

  He slid back the wooden jamb to reveal the smaller, more secret room.

  “Find anything?” Alec asked behind him.

  Thad motioned for his brother to take a look. “This tunnel leads to Dorsi. It has a side branch that leads to a cave that empties out at the cliffs north of the marina.”

  “Do you think Octavian knew about this tunnel?” Alec looked skeptical. “I didn’t even know this was here.”

  “Father’s the only other person who knew about it, until Monica followed me when I went after the scepter.”

  “That’s how you got back and forth from Dorsi.” Alec put the pieces together. “If Monica knows about the tunnel, she may have led Octavian inside.”

  Thad pointed through the doorway to where the wall had been slid back, revealing the handle to the trapdoor on the floor. “I left that closed when Monica and I came through. She’s been here. I’m nearly certain she led Octavian this way and left it open so we would know.”

  “I’ll get some men. We’ll go after them.”

  “No.” Thad grabbed his brother’s arm to stop him. “It’s highly unstable. The tunnel passes under the sea where the peninsula has been washed away. If we go tromping in there, the sides will most certainly give way. It partially collapsed on me last night. We can’t risk further structural damage. Once water breaches the tunnel, it will become a death trap. Monica’s in there.”

  “So what can we do?”

  “Dispatch a team to the cliffs north of the marina. That’s where the spur empties out. I’ll go in after Monica. I have the scepter. Maybe I can arrange a trade.”

  Alec gave him a doubtful look. “Do you at least have a flashlight?”

  Thad realized he did
n’t, and shook his head.

  “Here.” Alec slipped a penlight off of his keychain. “Get your wife back.”

  “Thank you.”

  Thad slipped quietly down the stairs. Thankfully, the penlight his brother lent him provided just enough light to illumine a couple of steps ahead of him, without giving away his approach. He’d need every advantage he could get over Octavian. The guards had said the tyrant looked ready to shoot. The last thing Thad wanted was for him to get nervous and pull the trigger.

  Running, crawling, creeping sideways, Thad moved through the forgotten passage as quickly as he dared. When he reached the intersection where the passage to the cliffs branched off, he paused, shining his light down the side tunnel, looking for any clue that would tell him if Monica and Octavian had gone that way.

  But the side passage was void of footprints, and distant echoes hinted at activity ahead of him along the main branch. He headed onward as the tunnel sloped deeper downhill, slowing his pace somewhat. Not only did he not want to let on to Octavian that he was behind them, but he had to be cautious to avoid damaging the tunnel any further.

  Already the seeping cracks trickled with streams of water that puddled on the floor. No doubt his excursion the night before had disturbed things. And Octavian’s frantic flight was clearly causing additional damage. Thad prayed silently that the corridor would hold up, at least long enough for him to rescue Monica.

  As he darted forward, he began to hear noises coming from up ahead. At first he wasn’t sure whether he heard trickling water or voices.

  Then he realized it was both.

  “Maybe we should turn back,” Monica suggested to her captor.

  “No!” Octavian’s fury nearly rattled the walls. “The palace will be teeming with my enemies. We have to go forward.”

  “But we’re underneath the sea. If these walls give way—”

  “Then hurry!”

  Octavian’s voice prodded Thad to move faster. He’d rather risk being heard than arrive too late. Soon he heard splashing up ahead, and came to a low-lying section of tunnel where the water poured through a small crack above, puddling in ever-growing pools on the floor, reaching as high as his ankles in places.