Transcender Trilogy Complete Box Set

by Vicky Savage

“Princess,” he tilts his head, looking at me over the top of his glasses, “love is a very complex, very personal thing. We cannot always choose with whom we fall in love.”

  “That’s a bunch of bull!”

  “And that is language unbefitting a princess.”

  “Whatever.” I throw up my hands, slumping back into my chair. “Okay, fine. But one last thing—now that he’s free, will Blackthorn succeed? I mean, will he save the planet?”

  “That is what I am trying to ensure. At this point, I really cannot say. Goodnight, Jaden. Pleasant dreams.” He grabs his stuff and walks out my door. Technically, I think he’s supposed to be dismissed or something, but I guess I’m not in a position to make a big deal of it.

  I undress and slide between my acres of sheets, my mind reeling once again from the events of the day. My heart is lighter now that Blackthorn is on his way home. I wonder what will happen when Mother finds out he’s gone. What if she discovers I had a hand in his escape? I feel uncomfortably like I don’t really know my Domerican mother. She is capable of things, both great and terrible, that I never dreamed of. She’s a queen, but is she a fair and just ruler? I want to believe she is, but how can she think reeducation is okay? Maybe that’s LeGare’s influence on her. I’m too fatigued to reason it out now, so I push it out of my head, allowing my exhausted mind to wander aimlessly.

  Eventually it winds its way back to the mysteriously alluring, dangerously impulsive Ryder Blackthorn. I press my palm to my cheek as if to transfer his kiss. Thoughts of him warm me, but I know it’s best to erase him from my heart and mind altogether—he’s double off-limits. He belongs to this world, not mine. By morning he’ll be the most wanted man in Domerica. But, oh, that glorious face, and what a fierce heart he must own. I wonder what it would feel like to be held by him, to be kissed…

  I need a distraction—some way to stop thinking about him. I wish I could listen to my iPod or watch Conan or go online. Instead I pick up the slim volume of Blake’s poetry lying on my bed. The cover is smooth, supple leather; its red color darkened over the years by the touch of many hands. I run my fingers across its patina and absently open the book to a random page, to a poem entitled “Love’s Secret.”

  Never seek to tell thy love, Love that never told can be;

  For the gentle wind doth move; Silently, invisibly.

  I hope that is how Ryder Blackthorn is making his way home tonight. Silently, invisibly… like the gentle wind.

  SIXTEEN

  Despite my gloriously plush bed, I toss and turn all night. I wake up feeling frazzled and anxious, even as the dawn of the new Domerican day frosts my whole room with a silver glow.

  The escape of Blackthorn and his men is not “officially” discovered until early morning. LeGare and his soldiers arrive to take them to the stockade at Wall’s Edge and find them gone. The two guards left in charge of the prison have also vanished, leading to speculation that either they assisted in the escape and fled to Unicoi with the fugitives, or they were killed or taken hostage by Blackthorn and his men. No one guesses the truth, which, according to Ralston, is that they high-tailed it out of there, fearing the queen’s wrath if they reported the escape during their watch.

  Queen Eleanor is in a royal rage. The majority of her ire is directed toward LeGare. Couldn’t happen to a nicer guy, in my opinion. An official edict is issued declaring the young Chief Blackthorn and his two accomplices enemies of Domerica. A huge reward is offered for information leading to the capture of the fugitives. The entire palace is placed on high alert. Several regiments of the Royal Guard are dispatched to search for the criminals, although everyone pretty much knows that at this point a search is futile.

  I’m eager to spend as much time as possible with Mother, but Ralston says it’s best to give her some space for a day or two until the general palace uproar dies down. I suspect he’s happy for the chance to get in a little intensive royal training before I spend too much one-on-one time with the queen.

  Our classroom on the third floor is arranged so we can sit in comfortable chairs and have tea while Ralston gives me my lessons. We quickly fall into an easy daily routine, beginning each morning with an update on the IUGA’s progress toward getting me home—which is usually a big zero. After that, while I’m supposedly learning the finer points of dome governance, Ralston conducts a kind of Princess Boot Camp. He fills me in on the rules of royal etiquette and the essentials of life at the palace. Afterward, he drills me with questions to see what I’ve learned.

  In the afternoons, we go for nature walks, and he points out any unusual trees or plants I should be familiar with. Sometimes Fred and Ethel join us. They’ve quickly become my best buddies. Fred is a total cut-up, frequently needing to be scolded for his pranks. Ethel is sweet as honey. She has me wrapped around her furry little finger. Not a day goes by that I don’t wish I could take them back to Connecticut with me.

  Afternoons are also for working on my riding skills. To my complete surprise, I find I have a knack with horses. Ralston has selected a gentle bay mare named Roxanne for me, and we take small excursions around the palace each day. We can’t go into town, though, because Mother has forbidden me to leave the grounds until she’s certain Blackthorn is no longer on Domerican soil.

  Evenings are my favorite times of all. That’s when I get to be with Mother. We usually have dinner together—Mother, Drew, and me. Other people join us from time to time. We even have to put up with General LeGare occasionally, but the mood is always light, and Mother seems more relaxed than she is during the busy daylight hours.

  Tonight Mother has invited Ralston to join us for dinner. She is scheduled to leave for a Coalition meeting in Dome Noir in a few days, so she wants to pick Ralston’s brain about the other domes.

  Ralston already explained the Coalition of Dome Nations to me. It’s an alliance to facilitate cooperation among the domes and help to maintain world peace. “Similar to your United Nations,” he says.

  Mother asks Ralston all sorts of questions about what he observed while working in the other domes with the other royal families. He answers her thoughtfully, and she seems impressed with his knowledge and his insights. I’m happy that she respects Ralston enough to value his opinion.

  After dessert and coffee are served, Mother says, “By the way, Professor Ralston, your friend, Lady Lorelei, has designed some unique gifts for the royal family of Dome Noir. One of my staff will pick them up tomorrow. You should really see them before I depart.”

  “I would be happy to pick them up for you, Your Highness,” Ralston tells her. “An excursion into town would be an enjoyable diversion. I need to replenish some of my supplies and, of course, I would be pleased for an opportunity to see Lady Lorelei again.”

  “I couldn’t impose upon you to do that,” Mother says, “and I do not wish to interrupt Jaden’s lessons. She so enjoys your daily sessions.” She smiles fondly at me.

  “Perhaps Princess Jaden would like to accompany me.” He cuts his eyes toward me. “She hasn’t been outside the palace grounds for days.”

  Mother frowns.

  “Oh please, Mother,” I beg. “I haven’t been to the village… in ages.”

  After a moment her features ease. “I suppose it would do you good to get away from the palace for a while. You may go along, on the condition that you have an armed escort.” I open my mouth to protest, but she holds up her hand. “Don’t even think of arguing, Jaden. That is my decision.”

  * * *

  I’m thrilled to have a chance to see the village, even if we have to drag four armed guards along with us. Ralston and I ride in a horse-drawn carriage, so I don’t have to worry about staying on top of my horse. Over the past few days, I’d gotten more relaxed about my own situation and less obsessive about asking Ralston when I can go home, so I’m freer to enjoy the sheer amazement of being in an alternate universe.

  We pass some farms along the way. Most have industrial looking barracks-like buildings on the property
instead of houses, and scads of workers dressed in white overalls toil away in the fields. Ralston says Domerica grows ninety percent of its own food. Few products are imported from the other domes since transporting them is so expensive.

  “What are those buildings?” I ask.

  “They are dormitories, to house the workers. As you already know, young adults are required to formally declare a marriage partner by age eighteen. Young men and women who fail to marry by age twenty are given a choice to work on a communal farm, such as the ones you see here, or in government offices in town. Based upon their choice, they are assigned to a post.”

  “Is it some kind of punishment or something?”

  “I don’t believe your mother would consider it as such. Every person is provided with a job and a place to live among people of a similar situation. They are comfortably taken care of for the remainder of their lives, as long as they perform their duties satisfactorily. They work alongside people of their own age, and retire with their cohort when the time comes.”

  “People are okay with this? They don’t mind the government forcing them to marry by a certain age, work at a certain job, and live in a certain place?”

  “It’s been that way almost from the beginning, Jade. Every Domerican grows up knowing what their choices are and accepting that.”

  “But these people, the single ones, are they ever allowed to marry and have children?”

  Ralston focuses on the road as he answers. “That gets a bit complicated. On rare occasion a couple is allowed to marry late, if they apply for and receive special dispensation from the queen. They must show a compelling reason for the late marriage—perhaps one party was lost at sea for years or something similar. Love is not considered a compelling reason.”

  “That’s harsh,” I say.

  “As for children, these late-marrying couples may adopt up to two children, but they cannot have children of their own. All single workers are surgically sterilized before they are assigned to a post.”

  “What?” I cry. “They’re forced into sterilization? That really blows.”

  “Jade, settle down; the guards will hear you,” Ralston says quietly. “It’s a choice they make, and it’s not such a bad life, really. No poverty or overcrowding exists in Domerica as in the other domes. There is also very little crime because, as you have witnessed, justice is swift and harsh.”

  “Why do you try to make it all sound so rosy? It’s totally oppressive. Why haven’t the people revolted?”

  “They don’t have any weapons, for one thing. It is illegal to possess arms. Guns are strictly prohibited. Possession of one is grounds for immediate imprisonment. Only the royal family and members of the Royal Guard are allowed to own swords. For another thing, life is better here than anywhere else on this earth. Your mother makes certain the people are constantly reminded of that.”

  “I can’t believe my mother would support that kind of government interference with people’s lives. When she was a judge, she was a maniac about protecting individual constitutional rights. I don’t get it.”

  “It’s quite consistent, really. Remember, Queen Eleanor inherited this system when she ascended to the throne. She is enforcing the Constitution of Domerica, just as your Connecticut mother ardently supported the Constitution of the United States. It is the constitutions that are different, not your mother. Don’t be too quick to judge, Jade. You really know very little of life on this planet.”

  I guess what he says makes sense, but some of the Domerican policies offend my most basic sense of morality and justice. And I still haven’t come to terms with Mother’s refusal to lift a finger to help the Unicoi.

  As we approach the village, my attention is diverted back to the unique scenery. Most of the buildings in town are plain, multi-storied structures that appear to house a lot of people. They look sturdy, but lack any trace of art or style. Other structures, though, are grand, fashioned out of marble, stone, and metal, with elaborate and interesting architectural features. Ralston points out that these more elegant structures are government buildings and places of worship for the COC.

  The main street of Warrington Village is lined with a variety of quaint, small shops. A wooden sidewalk stretches along both sides of the street. At intervals along the way, rails and troughs mark the designated areas for parking horses and carriages. Ralston pulls into one of these, and the guards dismount and tie up their horses. Ralston suggests that two of them wait with the wagon and horses. The other two clatter along behind us down the wooden sidewalk on the way to Bartlett’s Silversmiths Shop.

  Our presence raises quite a commotion in the village. As news of our arrival spreads, people stream out of the shops and restaurants to greet us. The crowd applauds and people call my name. Every few feet someone bows or curtseys, saying how great it is that I’m home and safe. Others assure me that Blackthorn will be found and brought to justice; still others throw flowers or small lace handkerchiefs to me.

  A kind of hot-looking guy boldly steps forward from the crowd. He has the most startling pale green eyes I’ve ever seen. Something about his clothing is different also. I don’t have time to figure it out, though, because he gets a little too close and my guards quickly step in to steer him away, but not before he smoothly slips a small piece of paper into my hand.

  He melts seamlessly back into the crowd, and I stuff the paper into my pocket as Ralston and I continue to plow our way through the throng of well-wishers. The outpouring of affection is touching and seems genuine. The townspeople obviously like Princess Jaden very much, and I can’t help but beam at the adoring faces.

  Our love fest is soon broken up, however, by the appearance of a group of Royal Guards escorting three prisoners in shackles and leg irons. The villagers part to make way for them. The prisoners’ faces are forbidding and weather-worn. They wear strange tan outfits resembling hazmat suits, helmets swinging loosely at their sides.

  “Who are those people?” I ask Ralston.

  “Outlanders. One usually does not see them this far inside the dome. They wear those suits to protect themselves outside. They must have been apprehended committing a crime.”

  “They don’t live in the dome?”

  “No. One or two small settlements of Outlanders exist near here. They are usually individuals running from the law, or free spirits who do not care for being restricted by dome walls or rules. Their dwellings protect them from the elements and are equipped with filtered air, but they must wear those suits when they venture outside.”

  The whole spectacle has a chilling effect on the crowd, and I’m relieved when we finally reach our destination. The guards station themselves by the door to the silversmith’s shop, while Ralston and I step inside.

  Bartlett’s is impressive even by modern standards. Lighted glass cases form a square in the middle of the store, displaying sparkling pieces of silver jewelry. The walls are lined with shelves showcasing larger gleaming treasures like platters, bowls, and jeweled swords.

  A uniformed security guard greets us inside the door. He bows and says, “Your Highness, please come with me.” He leads us to a private chamber in the back of the store, and asks us to be seated in some red velvet chairs arranged in front of a polished wooden table. “Lady Bartlett will be with you shortly.” He bows again before leaving us alone.

  “I saw that young man pass a note to you,” Ralston says. “What does it say?”

  I take the paper from my pocket and read it to him. Jaden – It is urgent that we speak about your current predicament and your astonishing gift. I can’t get near you at the palace, but I will find you. –Asher. The muscles in Ralston’s jaw tighten as I read.

  “What’s wrong?” I ask. “You don’t think he’s dangerous, do you?”

  “Probably not. We cannot take the chance, though. If you see him again, steer clear of him and call for help immediately.”

  “Okay, but what do you think it means?” I ask.

  Before Ralston can answer, however,
a radiant young woman glides into the room. We both rise to greet her. Technically, I’m supposed to remain seated, but she looks so regal I can’t help it. The lady warmly embraces Ralston. After a small curtsey she embraces me also.

  “You look well, cousin. It is so nice to see you again.” Her voice is like tinkling crystal.

  So this is Ralston’s former student and friend Lorelei—the one who helped Ryder and his men return to Unicoi. Ralston told me she’s an enlightened thinker who strongly opposes reeducation. She’s also a great supporter of the Unicoi cause, which is why she readily agreed to help Ryder and his warriors escape.

  A curtain of wavy yellow hair falls across her slender shoulders, softly framing her elegant features. Elaborate jewelry of polished silver twines like delicate vines around her pale neck and right wrist. It’s impossible to guess her age. She looks quite young, but she carries herself with the sophistication of a much older woman.

  “It has been too long since we have seen each other,” she says to me. “You are a grown woman now. I am overjoyed to hear that Professor Ralston has agreed to tutor you for a time.” She smiles, placing a small hand on Ralston’s arm. “He is a very wise mentor. You must listen carefully to his advice.”