Transcender Trilogy Complete Box Set

by Vicky Savage

  “Yeah, let’s hope. There aren’t any loose ends I should know about, are there? The princess’s body was never found, right?”

  “It was not. There were a number of casualties in the fire. Some of the bodies were burned beyond recognition. It was assumed her remains were among the unidentified.”

  “That works. But, out of curiosity, after I disappeared, what did IUGA do with Princess Jaden’s bod…” I wave my hand and shake my head. “You know what, never mind. I don’t think I want to know. What about Gabriel?”

  “Your horse was found two days after the fire, riderless and suffering from burns.”

  “Is he okay? He didn’t have to be put down did he?” I hold my breath.

  “He is fine. A section of his mane may never grow back, but otherwise he’s healthy.”

  Whew! “Okay, this is good,” I say. “I’m down with the story. Now fill me in on the rest. I’m dying to know what happened after I left.” I tick-off questions on my fingers. “You said back at the house that my mom’s not well. What’s wrong with her? Is Ryder okay? Was the Xtron ever recovered? How bad was the fire? And have the Unicoi moved to Domerica yet?” The not-knowing has been hell.

  TWO

  Ralston rotates his head from side to side as if to relax the kinks in his neck. “We’ve not enough time to go into specifics on any of this, but I’ll touch upon the major facts with which you should be familiar. You may have to wing it a bit, but people will expect you to be vague on current events since you’ve been absent for a year.”

  He begins with a rundown on the enormous fire raging inside the dome at the time I was sent home. According to Ralston, the fire was contained without widespread damage; a dozen people lost their lives, but it could have been much worse. The fire could quickly have sucked all the oxygen from the dome, thereby extinguishing itself, but not before wiping out every living thing inside.

  “No time for details at the moment, but the Dome Operations Center was eventually recaptured, and the fire was doused by a carefully-orchestrated deluge.”

  “That’s great news, Rals.”

  “You’ll also be pleased to know that the entire Unicoi nation was successfully relocated from their contaminated cities to Domerica several months ago. That is something of which you should be very proud, Jaden, since you were largely responsible for saving the population from certain death.”

  “Thanks,” I say, thrilled to hear that the project we started was seen through to completion. “You had a lot to do with that too, Rals. It must have been amazing to witness the exodus of so many people and animals. I’m sorry I missed it.”

  “Yes, they say it was quite a feat, but I understand construction of Unicoi Village is woefully behind schedule, and I’ve heard rumblings that the transition is not going as smoothly as we had initially hoped,” he says.

  “What do you mean you’ve heard? You don’t live in Domerica anymore?”

  He adjusts the knot of his burgundy tie and clears his throat. “When I was demoted, I was reassigned to a job at IUGA headquarters. I haven’t been out in the field for months. I get updates from the senior agent who replaced me, Marshall Chelmsford. Good man.”

  “Geeze Rals, I’m sorry.”

  “What’s done is done, my dear. We’d best get back to business.” He taps the face of his wristwatch to remind me of the time constraints.

  “Regarding the Xtron energy cell, it was recovered intact.”

  The Xtron, an item of enormous power, had been stolen by Damien, a rogue prince from the country of Dome Noir. He and a group of his henchmen were bent on destroying Domerica. Damien was captured before I left, but Ralston says many of his men got away, taking most of the explosives they stole with them. It’s assumed they returned to Dome Noir.

  “After his capture, Damien disclosed the location of the Xtron in exchange for Queen Eleanor’s agreement to release him into the custody of his father in Dome Noir,” Ralston says. “An unfortunate incident occurred, however, when Damien was being transferred to the Dome Noir representatives.”

  “What kind of incident?”

  “He was assassinated. Gunned down with a long-range rifle.”

  “Good God! He’s dead?”

  “Quite so. King Philippe was enraged at the news of his son’s violent death, even though Damien was an admitted thief and murderer himself, and despite the fact that Damien had at one point threatened to overthrow his own father. In any event, relations between Dome Noir and Domerica are terribly strained at this time. Philippe has suspended all trade until Damien’s assassin is found and brought to justice.”

  “Do they even know who did it?” I ask.

  “Not really. The type of firearm used, coupled with the fact that Damien had murdered a Unicoi warrior, cast suspicion directly upon the Unicoi people. After a brief and, I am told, less than thorough investigation, a warrant was issued for the arrest of a young man. You remember Ryder’s close friend, Alexander?”

  “Oh my god. Not Alexander. I know he hated Damien, but he couldn’t be responsible. Could he?”

  “Agent Chelmsford says he’s not, but the identity of the real culprit is being well-protected. For now, Alexander remains a fugitive, while others work to clear his name.”

  “What about Alexander’s wife? Don’t they have a child now?”

  “Mother and child are being well cared for by Ryder’s sister, Catherine.”

  I snort. “That’s uncharacteristically kind of Catherine.”

  “Actually, Jade, she’s become quite a paragon for the Unicoi people. Chief Blackthorn finally succumbed to his advanced lung cancer several weeks ago, and Catherine has taken on a major role in easing the transition of her countrymen to their new home. Of course, Ryder was named chief and has assumed responsibility for governing the tribe.”

  I shake my head in amazement. “Chief Blackthorn dead. Alexander on the run. What a mess. All of that on top of my disappearance. How’s Ryder holding up under this stress?”

  “Truthfully, I haven’t seen him in quite some time. But he is a strong individual and dedicated to the welfare of his people. I’m certain he’s doing the best he can. Your reappearance will certainly be a source of great joy and comfort to him. However I’m afraid you’ll find many things changed in Domerica, Jaden.”

  “Well, give me the rest of the bad news. What about my mother?”

  Ralston gazes out the window and frowns. He punches a button on the console of his armrest. “Driver, can we hurry it up a bit? We’re running late.”

  I hear a click and an amplified, “Yes sir.” The car immediately picks up speed.

  Focusing on me again, Ralston’s expression becomes grave. “Jaden, I am terribly sorry to have to tell you that your mother is terminally ill.”

  “What! She was fine when I left. What happened? What illness?”

  “It’s a type of leukemia.” His pale eyes turn soft and sympathetic.

  “No.” I cover my face with my hands. “This can’t be happening. I already lost her once. I don’t know how I can take losing her again.” I draw in a shaky breath. “Can’t leukemia be treated?”

  Ralston explains that while some forms of the disease are treatable, Mother has an acute form, resistant to medication. He says Domerica isn’t very advanced when it comes to treatment of cancers, and that the medication she’s receiving will prolong her life for only a month or so.

  My mouth goes dry, and my mind grasps for a loophole to make it not so. “Can’t we bring her medicine from here?”

  “You know we cannot. There are strict rules against inter-dimensional transfer of medications.”

  Ralston pulls the cap off my Perrier bottle and hands it to me. I take several large gulps. The bubbles sting my throat and help me swallow my tears.

  “Fortunately, you’ve been given the opportunity to see her once again. I hope you will find some comfort in that,” he says.

  I nod slowly. That’s more than I got when my Connecticut mom died. I guess I should
be grateful, but I’m hollow and angry inside.

  Staring out the window at the neighborhoods fleeting past my vision, it hits me that I’ve been so absorbed in searching for Ryder’s mirror I hadn’t noticed spring has arrived in Connecticut. Tender leafy shoots make gray, naked trees look lovely and young again. Cheery-headed daffodils bedeck bare flower beds, and nature’s renewal project has repainted all the lawns, transforming the dull yellows and browns to bright baby green. The cycle of life. Death and rebirth. It happens whether or not you’re paying attention.

  After a respectful moment or two, Ralston pushes ahead. “Jaden, as a result of your mother’s illness, your uncle, Prince Harold, and your cousin Princess Osrielle, have moved into the palace.”

  “Why? What can they do?” I mutter into the window glass.

  “They are there because your cousin, Osrielle, will become queen once your mother passes.”

  I snap my head around. “That’s ridiculous. Oz is only twelve years old. I mean, she’s smart, but she can’t rule a country.”

  “True. She is still quite immature, but your mother has appointed Prince Harold as Lord High Steward of Domerica until Osrielle reaches the age of majority, which means that, for all intents and purposes, your uncle will be running the country.”

  I grimace. “Uncle Harold?”

  “You sound as if you don’t care for him.”

  “I don’t really know him. Here he’s a big shot on Wall Street. Owns his own investment firm. The families aren’t really close, though. He and my dad don’t get along.”

  “Why is that?”

  “Uncle Harold kind of looks down on Dad for being a nurse. Like, you know, he could have done better things with his life. And Dad calls Uncle Harold Preacher Harold behind his back, because according to Dad, he’ll quote scripture to you while picking your pocket.”

  Ralston raises his eyebrows. “I see. Well, nevertheless, you may find him to be quite different in Domerica, having been raised as a prince.”

  “I guess it’s possible. He did write a nice letter for me when I applied to Yale. But didn’t you tell me that people are basically the same on the inside from one existence to another?”

  “In most cases, that is true,” he says.

  I hold my hand out palm up. “Well there you go. So how come Mother doesn’t just change the laws or whatever so Drew can succeed her?”

  “We’ve been over this, Jade. Only female heirs of the queen may ascend to the throne. Your brother is not eligible. It’s the one law in Domerica that is sacrosanct. Constitutionally, it may never be altered. Therefore, Osrielle, as your mother’s niece, is next in the line of succession.”

  “Okay, but when I get back, I’ll be the next in line, right?”

  “Correct. Should you decide to stay.”

  “And I’m already eighteen, so I don’t need a Lord High Whatever to run the country for me.”

  He nods.

  I may be a bit of a pampered princess in Domerica, but I’m not one of those fragile, shrinking violet types. I’m five foot ten in my bare feet. I weigh a hundred and … well, none of your business. I hold a third degree black-belt in Tae Kwon Do, and I’ll cut the Netherfields off of anyone who threatens me or my family.

  “I’m not really fond of Uncle Harold,” I say, “and I definitely don’t want him up in my face for this gig.”

  “Perhaps he would be a source of significant support as you adjust to your new responsibilities,” Ralston says. “But you needn’t keep him at court if you feel capable of handling things on your own.”

  I stare at him. “Seriously? Of course I’m not capable of handling things on my own. I mean, I won’t even graduate from high school for another three weeks.”

  He shrugs. “The decision is entirely yours, my dear. You’d have other assistance, of course. Your mother has a competent Council of Advisors. And there is your father and Prince Andrew.”

  “Will you be there? Will you be assigned to me?”

  “If you wish,” he says.

  Geeze, Jaden, what have you gotten yourself into? I prop my elbows on my knees and drop my face into my hands, trying to wrap my head around Mother’s illness, grappling with the momentous implications. I knew if I stayed in Domerica I’d someday take over the throne. I just thought I’d have thirty or forty years to grow into the job. This changes so many things. But a quick gut-check tells me I’m still going back.

  THREE

  We ride along without speaking for a few miles while I stare out the window, mulling over the information Ralston shared with me. When the silence threatens to become awkward, Ralston tries a lighter topic of conversation.

  “Are you still practicing your Tae Kwan Do, my dear?”

  Grateful for the distraction from my thoughts, I turn to him. “I keep up with it,” I say. “But you know how you suggested I look into fencing lessons? Well, I took up Kendo this year.”

  He raises his eyebrows. “Ah, the art of samurai swordsmanship. Impressive. I hear it’s a rather difficult sport, and quite noisy as well.”

  I crack a smile. “Yeah, there’s some weird shouting and grunting involved, but I’m kind of loving it.”

  “I look forward to seeing a demonstration sometime.”

  Lifting his jacket from the seat, he slides it on and straightens the lapels. The car slows and makes a right turn before coming to a full stop.

  “We’re here, Jade. Are you ready?”

  That question is fraught with implication. Am I ready? I don’t know. But here goes nothing.

  The driver opens our door, and I climb out into the driveway of a pretty yellow clapboard house in the middle of a normal-looking New England neighborhood. The lawn and shrubs are neatly trimmed, and honeysuckle blossoms spill fragrance from the pretty white trellis framing the front steps.

  “This is the safe house?” I ask.

  “Yes it is. What did you expect?”

  “I don’t know, Wayne Manor or something a little more imposing.”

  “IUGA’s approach is rather low-key. The idea is to appear to ‘fit-in’.”

  “Ergo the limo and the designer suit?” I say with a smirk.

  He shoots me a look over his shoulder as I trot up the steps behind him. Ralston rings the bell, and the door is quickly opened by a bearded young man in an oxford shirt and khakis. Hey, I know this guy.

  “Mr. Nordgren?” I say.

  He smiles. “Yes, Jaden. Come in, both of you. I believe everything is ready for you.” We follow him down a short hallway to the back of the house.

  I tug at Ralston’s sleeve. “Did you know he’s my physics teacher at Madison High?” I whisper.

  “Of course. He’s been keeping an eye on you in case of any further unexpected shifts.”

  Mr. Nordgren, correction: Agent Nordgren, leads us to a lamp-lit study off the right of the hall. A messy desk is parked at one end of the room. Mismatched chairs are scattered around haphazardly. A large whiteboard, scrawled with arcane mathematical formulae, takes up most of one wall. The other walls are lined with oak bookshelves chaotically crammed with hundreds of well-worn volumes.

  My stomach roils now that we’re here, and the enormity of what I’m about to do becomes more real. All at once, this whole thing seems like some crazy ass idea. I’m pretty sure I can’t really pull it off—sail through different dimensions, potentially take over as queen of a small nation. What am I, Superwoman or something? I reach up and caress the wolf-head necklace at my throat, reminding myself that Ryder waits at the other end of this journey. My second-thoughts fade to a quiet roar for the moment, and I’m able to gather my resolve again.

  “I apologize for the clutter,” Mr. Nordgren says more out of courtesy than concern. “Please make yourselves comfortable. Your other guest should arrive at any moment.” He softly closes the door as he leaves.

  Turning to Ralston, I ask, “Who’s our other guest?

  “I knew you would need assistance with your first controlled shift as a Transcender,
so I invited a friend. Someone who has been instrumental in arranging your return.”

  I wrinkle my forehead, but before I can ask the question, the door opens and a tall, lanky hunk in jeans and a leather jacket saunters in. Asher! I should have known.

  I grin, genuinely glad to see him. “Hey,” I say.

  “Hey, yourself.” Asher has striking, light-green eyes and a delicious smile, like he’s got this tantalizing secret he can’t wait to share. He hugs me tightly. God he smells good, like sun and spice and maleness. I haven’t been this close to a man who wasn’t a relative in twelve months. A warm little thrill shimmers through me.