by Vicky Savage
“No! That is not on the list of possible outcomes.”
“But why not? It makes as much sense as any other option.”
His eyes are gentle, but his words are biting. “Because a number of very skilled agents are diligently working to get you back where you belong, working to get the universe back in order. Your being here is an error—one that needs to be corrected.”
“I know that. I’m sorry. I just thought—” My thought is never finished, though, because the door of the farmhouse bursts open and a large, red-faced woman hurries toward us, her daffodil silk skirts billowing behind her. She curtseys deeply before me.
“Oh Your Majesty, Princess Jaden, we didn’t know you were coming this morning. We only expected Mr. Barksdale.” She blots her red face with a lace handkerchief. “I’m so sorry we weren’t out here to greet you. Please, you must come inside and partake of some refreshment.”
“Of course,” I say getting quickly to my feet. She’s so flustered I’m afraid she’s about to stroke-out or something.
She leads us into her small but well-furnished foyer. Carved chests and rich oil paintings line the walls. We are ceremoniously seated in the front parlor. The large chairs are covered in fabric that looks imported from Dome Noir. Farmer Selkirk obviously does very well in the horse trade.
“The maid will be in shortly with a selection of juices and teas,” Mrs. Selkirk says. “You must stay for luncheon after you have seen the horses. Of course we will have to make do with the provisions we have on hand. We weren’t expecting you this morning,” she repeats.
“Thank you Mrs. Selkirk,” I say, “and please don’t trouble yourself about us. Don’t prepare anything special. Bread and fruit will be fine.”
She looks like I just struck her. “Oh, Princess Jaden, surely we would never place such a mean meal before you.” Two maids bustle into the room carrying large trays loaded with containers of juice, iced tea, a coffee urn, and a selection of honey cakes, blueberry tarts and oat cookies.
Ralston and I have barely enough time to sip at our drinks when Barksdale hobbles into the room and says, “The horses are ready to be viewed.”
We put down our glasses, thanking Mrs. Selkirk for her hospitality, and follow Barksdale out the door.
Farmer Selkirk has an amiable face, curly brown hair, and a well-fed-looking belly, straining at the buttons of his red velvet vest. He’s flanked by two awesome looking horses. He holds one set of reins in each hand. A group of stable boys hovers behind him, all whispers and nervous energy.
“Welcome Princess Jaden.” He bows deeply. “We are honored to have you.”
“Thank you.” I smile at the group. “What have we here?” I ask approaching the splendid jet black horse on his right. The animal’s coat reminds me of Ryder’s hair.
“Ah, you have a good eye for horseflesh, Your Grace,” Selkirk says, handing the reins of the other horse, an Appaloosa, to a stable boy. “This is Gabriel, a three year old gelding.”
“The Archangel, huh?”
“Just so, Your Majesty. This horse has near perfect conformation, and the disposition of a saint. Let me show you.”
Farmer Selkirk proceeds to point out the finer areas of the horse’s anatomy, from the muzzle to the withers to the hind quarters, most of which goes straight over my head. Next, we’re treated to an examination of the horse’s teeth. Selkirk points out how smooth and even they are.
“I just floated them last week,” he declares proudly.
“What does that mean?” I whisper to Ralston.
“He filed them down,” he whispers back.
Eww, too much information.
At last, Farmer Selkirk offers to let me ride Gabriel. He saddles the horse and hands me the reins.
“Would you like help up, Princess?”
“No thanks,” I say, hopping on the horse’s back. I pat him on the neck and speak softly to him, slowly allowing him to get used to my voice and my weight. I put him through his paces the way Ralston taught me: walking, trotting, cantering, and backing up. He’s perfect at everything. Selkirk is obviously an expert trainer.
“He’s wonderful,” I say, trotting him back to the waiting men.
“Cut him loose, Princess,” Farmer Selkirk says, “See how he can fly. He’s faster than lightning.”
“Really?” I grin.
“Yes, run him out to the fence and back. Just give him his head and hold on tight.”
I turn the horse around, snap the reins, and yell “Hah!”
Gabriel shoots like an arrow across the field, straight and smooth. The wind whooshes through my hair. My heart races almost as quickly as when Ryder kisses me. What a rush! Half fear, half wild excitement. It is the closest thing to flying I can imagine. I decide right then and there, I’ve got to have this magnificent animal.
“We’ll take him,” I pant, when I return to the men.
“Excellent choice, Your Grace,” says Selkirk, “and might I add, you’re a natural born horsewoman.”
We stick around while Selkirk performs demonstrations of conformation and teeth examinations on five more horses before we get to eat lunch. Mrs. Selkirk has done a miraculous job of “making do” with what they had on hand. We’re served venison roast and duck breast, accompanied by potatoes, squash, corn, and string beans. Dessert consists of peach cobbler, blueberry pie, and even some chocolate bon-bons imported from Dome Noir.
When it’s time to leave, I’m so full my stomach aches. Farmer Selkirk says he’ll deliver the horses and the appropriate papers to the palace in two days’ time. He kindly offers to let me take Gabriel home now. I thank him and enthusiastically take him up on his offer.
To my great disappointment, though, Barksdale insists that I ride Roxanne and that he ride Gabriel home. He wants to observe him more closely. He seems suspicious of Selkirk’s willingness to let us take him tonight.
Ralston and I ride abreast of each other, giving me an opportunity to speak with him privately.
“I told Ryder we would try to go to Unicoi next week,” I say. “I hope that’s okay with you.”
“Of course.”
“I will talk to my mother tonight about visiting the Enclave,” I promise. “She was in a crappy mood last night. There’s no way I could’ve asked her. I still can’t predict what her reaction will be. She’s so different in this world, but I’m going to do my best to get her to agree.”
“Good luck,” Ralston says.
When we reach the palace stables, I insist on watching while Barksdale inspects every square inch of Gabriel’s sleek body, including his ears and mouth. At last, he pronounces him fit.
“He’s a fine specimen, milady. He’ll make an excellent mount for you.”
I’m overjoyed with my new friend and companion—the second tall, dark stranger to steal my heart away in this weird and wonderful land. I thank Griffin Barksdale, kiss Gabriel on his velvety nose, and dash up to my room. There’s something I need to do. Gabriel’s name must be added to the princess’ register of horses.
I compose his entry in my head on my way up the stairs: ‘jet black mane,’ ‘swift as the wind,’ ‘likes to be kissed on the nose.’ But when I reach my room and use my ring to unlock the desk, I find only the princess’ daily calendar. The other book, the journal with her important information, is missing.
I check the top of the desk. Not there. It’s not in the stack of books on my nightstand either. Where could I have put it? I’ve taken it out a few of times to check a name, or because I can never remember the damn combination to the jewelry chest, but I could have sworn I put it back each time.
It’s possible that a maid moved it. Or Maria, maybe. I’ll ask around. The princess will not be happy with me if I’ve lost her diary of essential information. I have a feeling she relies on it as much as I do.
THIRTY
In the afternoon, I send word to Mother asking if she can spare a few minutes to speak with me. She responds, via Samuel, that she’s having dinner with h
er council of advisors, but will see me in her office at ten o’clock.
When I arrive, she’s sitting in one of the armchairs by the stone fireplace. I’m happy to find her relaxed and smiling.
“Jade, it’s good to see you. Please sit down,” she says. “Did you have a good day today?”
I take the chair opposite hers. “Yes, it was a wonderful day. The Selkirk horses are amazing.”
“I hear you picked out a beauty for yourself.”
“I did. An ebony Arabian gelding named Gabriel. He’s gorgeous and very fast.”
“Just be careful, dear. It takes time to get used to a new horse.”
“I will Mother. Thank you so much for buying him for me.”
“Let’s just say I owed you a debt,” her eyes sparkle with humor. “Now what did you wish to see me about, dear?”
“First, tell me how the meeting went with your advisors,” I say, stalling for time.
She tilts her head thoughtfully. “In the beginning, many conflicting opinions were expressed on what should be done. I was certain I had made a mistake attempting to involve so many strong-minded people. In the end, however, we arrived at a reasoned statement of the position of the Designated Guardian and of Domerica’s unwavering pledge to uphold that decision. I believe every one of the advisors will sign it.”
“That’s wonderful Mother. May I read it when it is finished?”
“Of course, darling. I was hoping you would consider signing it also.”
“You know I will.”
“Now tell me what is on your mind,” she says, her vivid green eyes searching my own.
My stomach feels instantly queasy and I forget everything I’ve planned to say. “I… well, I was thinking…” I stammer.
“Is this about going to visit your father, Jaden?”
“Uh, yes.”
“Ralston has already spoken with me about it. I think it’s a good idea. You haven’t seen him in weeks. It will do you good to get away. After your kidnapping ordeal and all the other excitement we’ve had around here, you could probably use a change of scenery. I do not like you being so near Wall’s Edge prison, but your father’s Enclave is perfectly safe.”
Relief washes over me. Ralston’s already cleared the way. “Oh thank you Mother,” I say going to her chair and hugging her. “I do think it will be good for me to get away for awhile.”
“Your father has already been informed of my little dispute with the other domes, and he has generously offered to lend his advice and support.”
“That’s great!”
“Yes. He still takes a keen interest in my welfare. He is also concerned about your well-being, child. I think it will ease his mind to see you. The only condition I have is that Drew and a contingent of guards go along with you. I understand you declined your escort more than once during my absence.”
“But Mother—”
“I don’t want to hear it, Jaden. The road to Wall’s Edge has been plagued by highwaymen and Outlanders lately. I’ll not have you traveling about unprotected. This is not subject to negotiation.”
“Well, all right then.” I’ll just have to figure out how to deal with this twist in my plans later. “Thank you Mother. Should I send word to da—Father, or will you?”
“Your father and I will handle the arrangements. I assume Ralston is going with you?”
“Yes, if that’s all right.”
“Of course. What about Maria?”
I have no intention of dragging Maria to Unicoi. “No, I’ll just borrow one of Father’s servants if I need some help.”
“Fine, but as you are aware, he doesn’t have many. Everyone is considered ‘equal’ and all that nonsense at the Enclave. He still employs some household help, but they may not be of much assistance.”
“I’ll be fine, Mother.”
“Is there anything else, dear?” She rises, obviously ready to dismiss me. That bothers me. I want to spend more time with her. This is the first time we’ve been completely alone for days, and I wish we could just talk. But, I’m grateful that she so easily agreed to let me go to the Enclave, so I just hug her again.
“No, that’s all I needed.”
An urgent knocking at the office door interrupts our goodbye. “Enter,” Mother says.
A pasty-faced messenger bows timidly, and hands her a gold and black envelope. She takes it and waves the man away. The puzzled expression on her face concerns me.
“What is it Mother?”
She sits in her chair. “I don’t know. It’s from King Philippe. This is his seal.”
She rips open the envelope and begins to read. The muscles in her jaw tighten as she scans down the page. “Hmm, this is troubling news.”
I kneel beside her chair. “What does it say?”
“Prince Damien has failed to return to Dome Noir. There has been no sign of him or his people. King Philippe is, of course, very concerned for his welfare. He inquires why his son left the palace so abruptly. Obviously he is unaware of the urgent message received by Damien—which means he did not send it.”
“I sort of thought Damien might have arranged that himself, to save face,” I say.
“Yes, that is certainly a possibility, but the messenger might also have been sent by someone planning to ambush the prince.”
“Or someone planning some black market dealings with him.”
She looks at me sharply, “What makes you think the prince is involved in black market dealings?”
“Just rumor,” I say, shrugging.
“Well, whatever the reason, he has gone missing. The king has dispatched hydrofoils to search the ocean. Philippe wishes to send a delegation here to investigate the circumstances surrounding Damien’s departure.” She taps the envelope against her open palm. “I wonder if Philippe believes I may have had something to do with the disappearance. After all, what an effective bargaining chit—I return his son in exchange for his agreement to abandon the new dome proposal.”
“That’s a little extreme,” I say, convinced she’s being paranoid.
“Not for someone who thinks like King Philippe does. I need to speak with LeGare immediately.” She gets quickly from her chair.
“Mother, I won’t go to Enclave. I’ll stay here with you to speak with the delegation.”
She puts a hand on my cheek. “No, darling. That is kind of you. It will actually be better if you are not here when they arrive. The delegation will reach Domerica on Wednesday, if Damien has not turned up by then. You and Drew should leave for the Enclave on Wednesday morning. I will not allow you to be interrogated about your decision regarding a marriage to Prince Damien.”
She folds the letter and sets it on her desk. “We will offer our assistance in locating the source of the messenger and offer our resources to aid in a search, but we will not tolerate any implication that we may have had a hand in Damien’s disappearance.”
Opening the door, she signals to Samuel. “Fetch General LeGare for me, please.” Turning to me she says, “Don’t trouble yourself about this, dear. I am certain it will all be resolved by the time you return. Damien is probably just off on a gambling holiday in Cupola de Vita. Goodnight now.”
“Goodnight, Mother.”
When I reach the family quarters, I find Ralston reading in his room. I fill him in on the message Mother received about Prince Damien’s disappearance. He groans, taking off his glasses, and rubbing his eyes. He stares at the ceiling for a moment. “Events are careening out of control, I’m afraid.”
“What do you mean?”
He sighs and replaces his glasses. “A vanishing Damien, this proposal for a new dome… none of this was anticipated. Circumstances are deviating from the path much further than we projected.” He closes his book. “All we can do is take it one step at a time.”
“You’re scaring me, Rals. What else is going to happen?”
“Who knows? Do not concern yourself about it Jade. You’ll be fine.”
“It’s not me I’m w
orried about. What does this all mean for my mother and for Domerica?”
“It means things are unfolding exactly the way they are supposed to—it’s just that we’ve not been successful at finding a reliable method of predicting where they will go next. It’s confounding, really. Our usual methods of creating accurate prediction models have all failed. I’ve never seen anything quite like it.”
“Sheesh, I thought you guys would have this all figured out by now.”
