Transcender Trilogy Complete Box Set

by Vicky Savage

  “Ha! A Chief should be able to control his own son, else how can he command a whole nation?”

  “He is ill, ma’am,” Blackthorn says quietly.

  “I regret that he is ill. He is a decent man. You on the other hand are a disgrace to your family and your country. You entered into Domerica illegally and cruelly abducted my daughter, Princess Jaden. These are momentous crimes for which you could be summarily hanged.”

  Her words cause a ripple of commotion in the crowd. Ralston tightens his grip on my arm. Mother holds up her hand for silence.

  “But I am known to be a merciful sovereign. Since my daughter was not seriously harmed, and out of respect for your father, I shall not hang you. I believe, however, that reeducation would be in order.” This evokes still more murmurings from the crowd.

  She pulls herself up to her full height, glaring at Blackthorn. “Accordingly, I sentence you, Ryder Blackthorn, to be taken at first light to the prison at Wall’s Edge for reeducation, after which you shall be returned to your father. Your comrades shall also be reeducated. They, however, shall remain our prisoners at Wall’s Edge, in servitude to the crown for the remainder of their lives.”

  A wild chorus of whoops and applause erupts from the crowd. Cries of “Blessed be the Chosen” ring throughout the hall. Mother receives this adulation with a regal smile. LeGare signals the guards and they pull Blackthorn to his feet.

  “Your Highness,” Blackthorn’s voice is forceful and carries above the din. The crowd falls silent again. “With all due respect, ma’am, my men and I would prefer the hangman’s noose to your reeducation program.”

  “Well now, that is the drawback to electing the path of the criminal, young Blackthorn,” Mother says. “You do not get to choose. Remove them!” The soldiers drag Blackthorn and his men from the great hall. The mind-numbing music instantly resumes.

  Okay, I don’t really know what just happened, but I know it’s got to be bad. I’m pretty sure reeducation doesn’t have anything to do with going back to school. But what does it mean? I stare bewildered at Ralston, who looks pale and shaken.

  “What’s reeducation?” I whisper.

  He shakes his head. “We can’t talk here.”

  I’m not about to take ‘no’ for an answer, but unfortunately, Ambassador Garcia chooses that exact moment to ask me to dance. I can’t come up with an excuse, so I take the Ambassador’s outstretched hand, and the crowd parts, making a path for us to the dance floor. I only hope it’s a short song.

  I’m an okay dancer. My mother taught me the basic ballroom dance steps when I was in middle school, and I can hold my own with just about any partner. On the other hand, I’m flunking out of Spanish II this year, so I hope the Ambassador doesn’t try to converse with me in anything other than my native tongue.

  “You are very light on your feet, Your Highness,” the Ambassador says in perfect English.

  “Thank you.” I manufacture a smile I don’t feel. I need to talk to Ralston.

  “When do you turn eighteen, my dear?” the Ambassador asks.

  The question seems odd, but maybe it’s his version of small talk.

  “In August.”

  He nods. “You still have some time, then. Are you ready to announce?”

  “Announce what?” I ask, afraid I’ve missed a vital piece of the conversation.

  “Your selection.”

  I wrinkle my brow in confusion.

  “Of a husband, a consort. That is still the law in Domerica, is it not?”

  I gulp loudly, not knowing the answer to that. “Uh, yes, but why rush these things?”

  “I was wondering whether you have met Don Francisco Ferrera del Rio Martinez?”

  “I, uh… don’t believe so.”

  “He would make a very good match for you. He is handsome and rich. He comes from an ancient Peruvian royal blood line. You should ask the queen to invite him to the palace for a visit before you make up your mind.”

  “Yes, I will. Gracias, Ambassador.”

  “Ah, me olvidé de que usted habla español con fluidez,” he says with a smile.

  Uh-oh. I have no idea what he just said, so instead of responding, I begin to cough loudly. We pause our dancing. I cough some more.

  “Are you all right, Princess?” He pats my back lightly. The dancers nearest us stop to stare.

  “Uh, yes,” I croak. “I have something in my throat. Will you help me to the table?”

  He takes my elbow, guiding me back to my seat, while I continue my bogus coughing fit. The Ambassador looks completely flustered. He helps me into my chair and hands me my water goblet. Both mother and Drew come over to check on me.

  “Are you all right, dear?” Mother asks, taking my hand.

  “Yes, I’m fine now. Just something in my throat. Thank you for helping me, Ambassador Garcia.” He bows and retreats to his seat.

  “Always have to be the center of attention, don’t you?” Drew says with a smirk. “Getting kidnapped wasn’t enough?”

  I scowl at him.

  “Andrew, be kind,” Mother says. “She has been through a lot these past two days.” Drew doesn’t reply, but winks at me and walks away.

  “Mother, I am a little tired. Is it all right if Ralston escorts me to my room?” I say.

  “But darling, you’ll miss all the entertainment.”

  “I know, and I’m sorry. I just need some rest.” I try to look pitiful.

  “Of course, darling,” she helps me to my feet. “I hope you sleep well, knowing that the monster who kidnapped you has been captured. He will receive his just punishment.”

  “Yes, Mother, thank you.”

  She pauses for a moment. “Darling, you are rather pale. Do you need a doctor? Would you like me to accompany you?”

  “No, no, Mother. I’ll be fine.” She kisses my forehead and turns me over to Ralston, who leads me back down the red carpet and out of the dining hall.

  TWELVE

  Ralston and I walk in tension-filled silence until we reach my room. Once inside I turn on him. “Okay Rals, spill it. What does reeducation mean? Why would Blackthorn prefer to be hanged?”

  “May we sit for a moment?” Ralston clutches the back of an armchair near the fireplace.

  “Yeah, sure. But please tell me, fast.”

  He sits on the edge of the chair cushion, placing his hands on his knees. His features are strained. “Reeducation is a euphemism for a nasty bit of brain alteration. It’s practiced only in Domerica. The locals call it a ‘mind wipe,’ which is an apt description.”

  “Mind wipe?”

  “Yes. When it works properly, which is not very often, it essentially wipes out the entirety of a person’s memory. The victim is still able to function on a rudimentary level—breathe, eat, speak and such. But everything else is gone. The person’s identity, history, ability to recognize friends and family. All gone. Wiped out. What’s worse is the person becomes incapable of forming new memories, so he is not able to regain an identity. Each day he must begin anew with a blank slate, so to speak.”

  “Are you kidding me? That is seriously screwed-up!”

  “More than you know, Jade. Most victims do not live much longer than a year or two after the surgery. They either die of some complication from the surgery or they take their own lives.”

  “But how does it work exactly? How do they do it?”

  “You don’t really want the details. It involves inserting ionic rods into a certain part of the brain and zzzzt!” He makes a zapping sound.

  “No way! How did it come to be used as a punishment?”

  “Oh, a bright young general in your mother’s guard—you remember Charles LeGare—heard of a strange medical case where the doctors were trying to cure a man of epilepsy, but erased his memory instead. LeGare had the brilliant idea that the procedure could be perfected for use on prisoners. It makes them so much more docile while they are performing hard labor on the royal farms at Wall’s Edge.”

  “And m
y mother’s okay with this?”

  “I’m afraid so. In fact, Queen Eleanor is the one who coined the term ‘reeducation’.”

  “But, this can’t happen,” I say. “I mean you’re the Guidance Agent. Isn’t Blackthorn supposed to save the world or something? You should have stayed with him instead of coming with me.”

  “Unfortunately, everything went a little haywire after you shifted, Jade. None of this was meant to occur. Blackthorn should have escaped with the others. But the whole path shifted when you did. Now everything is in jeopardy.”

  “Because of me?” My head reels making the room spin. I stagger unsteadily to the bathroom and heave the contents of my stomach into the sparkling porcelain toilet bowl. Sitting on the floor in my lovely ball gown, I yank the tiara out of my hair and fling it against the wall. Dozens of tiny pearls break away, ponging across the marble floor.

  Tears stream down my face, washing away all the golden glitter. Ralston kneels beside me, and I throw my arms around his neck, weeping huge blubbery tears into his crisp white shirt. “I just want to go home,” I wail.

  “I know child. Soon.”

  I cry on his shoulder for a minute, but I understand it won’t do any good for me to fall apart. That doesn’t solve anything. I know because I watched my dad do it, and it didn’t bring mom back. This is all happening because of me. I have to figure out a way to make it right.

  “I won’t let this happen,” I say, drying my eyes with my fingers. Ralston helps me up off the floor. “I can’t let them do that horrible thing to Blackthorn and those men. I’ve got to go to my mother to plead for mercy for them.”

  He scratches his chin thoughtfully. “Yes, that might work. But, I’m afraid all it would accomplish is getting them hanged or sentenced to hard labor at Wall’s Edge for life. Queen Eleanor would never just set them free.”

  “In that case, we’ll just have to get them out of here somehow,” I say.

  “Yes, we will—and I think I may have a plan,” he says. “Only, I need to take care of this alone, old girl. We can’t risk your being involved. If something else goes wrong—”

  “No, Ralston!” I cut him off. “Don’t even try to talk me out of this. I’m going with you. I’m responsible for this. I need to fix it.”

  “It’s not your responsibility, Jade. What happened is no fault of yours. But, if we are caught, I’m afraid I can’t predict what your mother will do. It might be rather unpleasant.”

  “Then we won’t get caught. Now what’s the plan?”

  THIRTEEN

  Ralston studies me a moment, like he’s considering whether it’s worth an argument. I give him a steely stare. At last, he gives in.

  “This particular castle, Warrington Palace, is old and has a number of interesting features, many of which are unknown to the current inhabitants.”

  “Like what? Like a secret passage or something?”

  He nods. “I know of one such passageway that leads to the prison under the palace. We’ll have to get into your mother’s office, though. That’s where the entrance is.”

  “Don’t tell me—the door’s disguised as a bookcase.”

  He smiles sheepishly.

  “No. Really?”

  “I have some arrangements to make,” he says. “Your job is to get the key to your mother’s office.”

  “But, how do I do that?”

  “You already have it somewhere. Since you are the heir to the throne, you possess keys to all the important rooms and government facilities. Have you seen anything like a ring of keys in your room?” I shake my head.

  “They may be in a safe, or locked in a drawer, or someplace similar to that. Search the room, see what you can find, and I’ll return at midnight. Dress in something dark and easy to move in. We may have to hide or make a quick getaway.”

  Ralston slips out of my room, and I begin my search for the key. I check the closet first, since that is the most logical place for a safe. I look behind racks of fabulous dresses, through shelves of folded sweaters and drawers of socks and frilly underwear. I examine row upon row of shoes and boots. It’s hard not to get distracted in here, but I manage to look over, under, and behind everything. I find no safe hidden anywhere.

  Next, I check the princess’ desk. The main drawer is locked. I rattle it, but it doesn’t budge. I run my finger across the brass keyhole in front. It’s an odd cylindrical shape. It would take a special key to open it—something round or ring shaped. I wrack my brain trying to remember if I’ve seen anything like that among the princess’ things. I poke around the stuff on the top of her desk, and my eye is drawn to the carved ring on my own hand. Could it be? It’s worth a try.

  I twist the gold ring off my finger and slide it into the key slot. It fits perfectly. I turn it to the right, and half-way through the turn, the lock releases with a click. Yes! Two books, a stack of papers, and a couple of weird-looking writing instruments take up most of the drawer, but unfortunately no keys. I’m about to move on to the dressing table when someone knocks at my door.

  Irritated by the interruption, I open the door a crack and peer out. It’s Maria.

  “Hey Maria, what’s up?”

  She curtseys shyly, “I’m sorry to disturb you Princess, but I heard you left the feast early. I thought you might like some assistance getting undressed.” She eyes my smeared make-up and wild hair.

  My first impulse is to send her away, but I realize I’ll never be able to get out of the dress-of-a-zillion-buttons by myself. Plus, she may know where the keys are. “Sure, thanks. Come on in.”

  She helps me out of the gown and into my robe. I sit on the bench at my dressing table, while she pulls the rest of the hair pins out of my destroyed up-do. She gently runs the brush through the length of my hair, over and over. Oh man, it feels so good ... I have to remind myself not to get too used to this lifestyle.

  “Would you like me to get your nightgown for you?” she asks, after she has tamed my hair into a single braid.

  “Uh, no,” I say, remembering my assignment. “Maria, you haven’t seen my keys anywhere, have you? I think I misplaced them.”

  “They’re not in your jewelry safe?” She glances at a large ornate chest perched on top of my dressing table.

  Of course, the jewelry chest. I casually walk over to the safe and tug at the small knobs on the front panels like I know what I’m doing. The doors don’t budge. I fiddle with the latches for a moment, but no matter how I try I can’t get the thing to open.

  “Did you forget the combination?” she asks.

  I had overlooked the five small, numbered dials on the front of the chest. “Uh, yeah, I’m pretty bad with numbers. Do you know it?”

  She shakes her head. “No. Sylvia is the only person who knows the combination. She would never tell me.”

  Oh, great. The one person in the palace I’ve already alienated is the only person who knows the combination. “I’m not very good at remembering numbers either,” she says, “so I write them down and keep them in a safe place for when I need a reminder.”

  “Yeah, that would be the smart thing to do,” I say. “Well, don’t worry about it. I’m sure I’ll figure it out. Thanks for everything, Maria.”

  “Goodnight, Princess.” She curtseys again and leaves. But, she’s given me an idea. After closing the door behind her, I go back to the princess’ desk to examine her books and papers more closely. Two small, leather-bound volumes are tucked inside the main drawer. The first book is an appointment calendar—nothing too interesting, just a daily log filled with events and meetings. The Princess is a busy girl.

  The second book looks more promising. It has reminders of important dates like family birthdays, christenings, and the like. I flip through the pages, noticing that the other Jade has recorded things like names of the royal families of Dome Noir and Cupola de Vita. This book will definitely come in handy. There’s also a listing of the names of the ruling family of Unicoi: Chief Seneca Blackthorn; his wife, Caitlin Ryder Blac
kthorn (deceased); their children, young Chief Ryder James Blackthorn and Catherine Fitzpatrick Blackthorn. She drew a tiny star next to Ryder’s name. I’m curious as to what it means.

  In another section is a record of every horse she’s ever owned, the date she got the horse, it’s coloring and specific markings, as well as certain special characteristics like “fond of pommeras” or “likes to be rubbed behind the ears.”

  Leafing through the rest of the book, I find things like pressed flowers and line drawings of formal gowns. One page has a detailed map showing the location of the “Sacred Caverns.” Maybe a tourist spot. This is all interesting but useless information. I’m about to give up when, on the second to the last page, I find an inventory of the contents of the princess’s jewelry chest, and BINGO! It’s here. The five-number combination I’ve been looking for: 5-7-9-5-5.