by Vicky Savage
Taking a pen from the holder on the desk, I carefully initial the paragraphs he indicated. I slide the final page in front of me and, as the point of my pen meets the paper, Ralston snatches the page away, backing toward the door.
“You can’t sign this, Jade,” he says.
“Are you crazy? Give that back to me. What are you doing?” I bolt from my chair and grasp for the paper.
He quickly stuffs it inside his jacket. “IUGA will undoubtedly terminate me for this, but I cannot allow you to go through with it. If you sign this document and remain in Domerica, you will die on your wedding day.”
“What? I’ll die? Like someone will kill me?” I ask, believing I’ve heard him wrong.
“Yes, I’m afraid so.”
“It’s Uncle Harold, isn’t it?” I say, hot fury expanding in my chest.
He shakes his head gravely. “No. He has nothing to do with it. It seems the government of Dome Noir has quietly been planning your demise almost since the day of your return.”
“Dome Noir is planning to murder me?” It sounds preposterous when I voice it.
“As part of a greater plan to take over Domerica, yes. They intend to infiltrate Warrington Palace during your nuptials when all of the top members of government are gathered here together. The strategy is to eliminate as many members of the royal family as possible—that includes you, Prince Andrew, your father, and Ryder. They are as yet unaware of the change in the line of succession, so Prince Harold and Princess Osrielle are also targets, as are members of the Council of Advisors, and General LeGare. An old fashioned coup d’état, if you will.”
“But why? Why would they do it?”
“I’m afraid conditions in Dome Noir have become dire. A small revolutionary army has been formed. They’ve been successfully contained so far, but the Noirs don’t even have a place to detain the captured revolutionaries. There’s literally no more room in the prisons, but to execute them would cause the remainder of the people to rise up.” He runs a hand across his wispy hair. “The bottom line is: they need a new dome for the survival of the nation, and to restore faith in the government. They will do anything to get it.”
Slumping into my chair, my brain struggles to process this violent news, my mind scrabbles for a solution. “Okay, but we’re aware of this now. We’ll just stop them before they get here. We’ll amass our own soldiers and sink their ships, or surround the dome and not allow them access. We can appeal to King Rafael and Cupola de Vita for help. He’d never stand for the forcible overthrow of Domerica. It violates every treaty among the nations.”
“Were it only that simple, my dear. Unfortunately, for the most part, the Noirs are already here—inside the dome. What’s more, King Rafael is unofficially aware of the plot, and though he does not condone it, he will take no steps to prevent it, as evidenced by his cowardly withdrawal from the wedding party.”
I shake my head slowly. “No. This isn’t happening. How can they already be inside?”
Ralston seats himself across from me again. Patiently, he explains that Damien’s men who were never captured banded together into a kind of criminal enterprise, led by Luc Canard, Damien’s former lawyer. Canard and his thugs discovered the new location of the spare dome plans and materials several months ago and offered to sell this information to King Philippe. Philippe was eager to have it, but knew that he couldn’t simply slip inside Domerica and steal the massive dome materials, so he struck a deal with Canard.
They conspired to work together to amass a small legion of men inside Domerica, some smuggled in from Dome Noir, some recruited from the local riff-raff. The ultimate goal was to attack the palace once Queen Eleanor died, and hold Osrielle hostage, forcing Prince Harold to give up the dome plans and materials. But my reappearance put a kink in their plans, so they orchestrated the violent attack in the forest to get me out of the way before Mother’s death. When that failed, everything changed. The stakes went up. The Noirs decided they needed to take over control of Domerica. And, it became apparent that they needed guns to do it.
“The current plan is to strike on your wedding day,” Ralston says. “Next week when Prince Gilbert, Prince Jean Louis, and others from Dome Noir arrive as invited guests, their ship will be laden with firearms.”
I stare at him, disbelieving. “Prince Gilbert is on board for this? He seemed so sane and reasonable when I met him last year.”
“At first he was vehemently opposed to the plan, but as I said, they are desperate, my dear. King Philippe convinced him that it is a reasonable response to the assassination of Prince Damien, which he considers an act of war. Gilbert has agreed to carry out his Father’s bidding. He plans to lead the attack from inside Domerica.”
My brain screams, “Impossible!” “There has to be a way to stop them, Rals. A scenario where we win, they lose, and I survive.”
“I’m afraid not, Jade. IUGA’s prediction models indicate a ninety-eight percent probability that no matter what defensive actions Domerica takes, you will be killed.”
Hot blood snakes through my veins. “And IUGA was going to allow this to happen—allow me to be killed without warning?”
He nods soberly.
“But why? Why would they bring me back here just to die?”
“Because their prediction models further show, within a ninety-six percent probability, that if you choose either of your other options, Connecticut or Arumel, you will eventually come to reside in Arumel and take over as the next leader of the Transcenders when Narowyn Du Lac steps down.”
“That’s absurd. But so what? Why do they care?”
“It would be quite disastrous for IUGA, Jade. Under your leadership, the Transcenders would assume a much greater role in intergalactic affairs, and the very existence of IUGA would be called into question. For centuries, a heated debate has raged. Is destiny something which must be controlled and directed, or should it be allowed to freely unfold? IUGA has always had the upper hand in that debate, because of its wide-ranging power and because Transcenders number so few. All of that would change should you take over the helm. Philosophies have already begun to shift. Your influence would be the deciding factor.”
The bitter taste of bile stings my throat. “How long have you known about this?”
“Since yesterday, but apparently the director has known it all along. They used me to get you back here.”
“So we’re both pawns in their nasty little game?”
“Regrettably, that is so.”
I sit back and stare at the ceiling. The bleakness of my predicament sinks through to the marrow of my bones. “I can’t stay here, can I, Rals? I can’t be with Ryder.”
“Not if you wish to survive, my dear. Considering that both the Noirs and IUGA ultimately desire your death, Arumel may be the only safe place for you. Neither faction can touch you there.”
The bastards! “So what do I do now, Rals?”
“You let go. Start a new story. Begin living your own life instead of someone else’s.”
“What happens if I leave? Go back to Connecticut or on to Arumel? Is it possible to stop the rest from happening? Is there any way Ryder and my family will survive? Can Domerica be saved?”
“The impending battle will take place no matter what we do. There may, however, be a way to protect your family, and just possibly save Domerica in the process. I warn you, it’s not a very likely scenario, but now that I’ve broken every rule and informed you of this, there’s a slight chance we can pull it off. It must be done in absolute secrecy, though. IUGA must not get a whiff of any change in your plans.”
Searing rage lashes through me like the sting of a devil’s whip. I won’t let them win! “We have to do it, Rals, whatever the cost. Even if it means I end up dead, we’ve got to save them.” I pound the desk with my fist. “Just tell me what to do.”
“I have the beginnings of a plan, old girl, but it isn’t safe to discuss it here. IUGA has many eyes and ears.”
“Then let’s go
,” I say, pulling him toward the door. “I think I know someplace safe. You’re not afraid of heights are you?”
To be continued…
* * *
If you enjoyed STREAMING STARS, please consider leaving a short review at http://www.amazon.com/dp/B00AVY3FXY.
ILLUMINOSITY
Transcender Trilogy Book 3
by
Vicky Savage
DEDICATION
To all the remarkable women who have touched my life and inspired me to be a more loving, strong, and resilient person, especially Josephine, Shelly, and Jessica—mother, sister, daughter. I hope we have perpetual contracts with each other.
ONE
A deal’s a deal, right? Except when one party secretly plans for the other party to be dead by the end of the deal, then I’m thinking all bets are off.
I had a straight up deal with the Inter-Universal Guidance Agency, the self-appointed destiny police—they return me to my parallel life in Domerica for thirty days, after which I get to decide whether I want to stay here, go home to Connecticut, or join up with a community of Transcenders like myself. What I didn’t know at the time was that IUGA had already determined the highest and greatest good of the multiverse would best be served by ridding it of one pain-in-the-ass Transcender—namely me. They don’t know it yet, but that ain’t gonna happen.
My mentor, Ralston, sniffs around the panorama of dusty old windows in the tower room of Warrington Palace—the only place we can be sure of having a private conversation. The silvery afternoon light slants through the grimy panes causing the mostly empty space to seem incongruously cheerful and cozy.
“How long have you known about this room?” he asks in his soft British accent.
“Not long,” I say. “I discovered it the night of Mother’s funeral … I mean Farewell Celebration. I couldn’t sleep after Ryder shared the news about Erica being pregnant, so I came exploring up here.”
“Ah yes, the timing of all of that was regrettable. Misfortunes seem to come in threes, don’t they? The queen’s passing, Erica’s pregnancy, and now this conspiracy to assassinate you and the royal family.”
I rest my forehead against the warm windowpane, admiring the stunning view. Domerica may be just a tiny, backward dome world, but its sloping fertile hills and valleys lush with fruit orchards and richly hued wildflowers are breathtakingly beautiful. My heart grieves at the thought of never seeing my adopted homeland again, but that’s nothing compared to the utter devastation I feel at the idea of never seeing Ryder again. Ralston tells me I have no choice—either I leave or we all die. My heart hasn’t fully accepted that yet.
“Rals, I’ve been thinking about it. We know IUGA wants me out of the way because they see me as a threat to their existence. And we know Dome Noir originally planned this bloody coup so they could take over Domerica and get control of the dome materials. What if we just give them what they want?”
“What do you mean?” He drops his brow and peers at me over the frames of his glasses.
What if we contact King Philippe or Prince Gilbert, whoever’s calling the shots, and tell them they can have the dome materials if they just leave us in peace?”
“That’s a bit like arming the security system after the burglars have broken in, Jaden.” He smiles indulgently. “The Noirs are already inside Domerica. Why would they settle for stealing only the silver when they believe they can have the cash and jewels too? Not to mention that IUGA will still consider you a danger.”
“I guess you’re right.” My shoulders slump in defeat. “But I’ve decided something, Rals, and don’t be upset with me. I’m going to marry Ryder anyway.”
“That’s preposterous!” he splutters. “As I’ve already explained, the attack is set to take place on your wedding day. You can’t possibly—”
“I don’t mean on the scheduled day. I mean tomorrow when he gets back, after we tell him about this whole scheme. I’m going to ask him to marry me right away since the royal wedding’s never going to happen.”
Ralston stands next to me and gazes out the window. I can almost hear his computer brain sifting through the one hundred and twenty thousand possible responses to this seemingly harebrained idea. “You would marry him knowing that you two cannot ultimately be together?”
“Yes,” I whisper, my fingers caressing the wolf-head necklace at my breast. Ryder’s necklace. The one I promised to wear always—to keep him safe from harm.
“Is that really necessary, my dear?” he swivels to look at me. “I know you two have not had much time alone, but now that things have settled down a bit, that should be easier to arrange.”
“I’m not doing it for the sex if that’s what you’re thinking. Well … truthfully, that’s partly why I’m doing it. I want my first time to be with Ryder. I’m not sure I’ll ever want anyone else—not with this kind of passion. But the thing that bothers me is I don’t know what will happen after I’m gone. He turned to Erica once before, and now she’s expecting his baby. Odds are they’ll end up together.” Tears press at the back of my eyes. “I just love him, Rals. I want to be his first wife at least, if only for a few days. Is that hideously selfish of me?”
A trace of sadness muddies his light blue eyes, and he shifts his gaze out the window again. “No, it is not, my dear. You deserve whatever small happiness you may glean from this unfortunate situation. But ...” He turns back to me. “It is imperative that any ceremony take place in absolute secrecy. IUGA must not get a whiff of it. Perhaps Ryder can arrange for you to be married in Unicoi. To my knowledge, IUGA has no presence there at this time.”
“Okay. Good idea. Thanks, Rals.” We both know I’m thanking him more for not going ballistic on me rather than for his suggestion.
“Jaden, I trust you realize this decision will make it even more difficult for you to leave him when the time comes. But leave him you must.”
“I know, I know …” An involuntary sob escapes my throat. “I’ll do what I have to do.”
Ralston squeezes my shoulder and wanders over to the small door leading out to the rickety walkway surrounding the tower. He rattles the rusty knob.
“Hey, I wouldn’t go out there if I were you.” I swipe away my tears so I can see what he’s up to. “That walkway’s practically rotted through. Not even an automaton could survive a fall like that.”
He cracks open the little door and peers out. “Yes, I’m certain you’re right. It appears quite treacherous.” He pokes a boot outside and gingerly tests the crumbling wood while holding tightly to the frame. “Actually, this is rather wonderful. I believe it may be just what we need.”
“If you say so, Rals. Exactly what do we need it for?”
“For staging your death, my dear.” He closes the door and dusts off his hands. Then he eases himself down into the faded chintz chair in the center of the room.
“We’re going to stage my death?” My voice goes all squeaky.
I seat myself on the matching ottoman facing him. The only other piece of furniture in the room is a black Bombay chest which holds a collection of personal treasures tucked away long ago by the princess.
“I’m afraid we must, old girl, if you wish for our plan to work. Your loved ones’ safety depends upon it. I hadn’t worked out all the details before, but I believe this room will serve quite nicely for what I have in mind. Now that you’re queen, the advent of your death has far greater significance.”
I pull my legs up and rest my forehead against my knees. “I was hoping I could just sort of disappear like I did last year. So maybe I could come back someday.”
“Absolutely not!” The force of his voice makes my head jerk up. “Queen Jaden’s body must be recovered,” he says. “There can be no question this time that you are, in fact, dead. It’s the only way Lady Lorelei may rightfully assume the throne and rule Domerica. The country will be on the brink of war with Dome Noir, its very survival threatened.”
“Okay, okay. Don’t yell. Just how is the queen�
�s body supposed to be recovered? I can’t play dead that convincingly.”
He removes his glasses and massages the bridge of his nose. “I have a solution for that. We’ll use Princess Jaden’s body. As you know, IUGA has it stored in cryostasis. The fact that she died from a fall on the day of your first shift to Domerica makes this staged plunge from the tower a rather perfect conclusion to your brief tenure here. There’s a sort of symmetry to it.”
