Transcendent: The Revelations of Oriceran (The Kacy Chronicles Book 4)

by Anderle, Michael

  "Oh, she wouldn't have liked that," Allan chuckled. "Not at all. Go on."

  "The merchant was a man she referred to as Torpizar, a wealthy man with many agents and connections up and down the coastline, including Rodania and beyond. Her job at first was simply to serve, but she soon endeared herself to him. She demonstrated how well she could help him buy and sell—–"

  "She's no dummy…" Allan muttered.

  "And Torpizar gave her more and more responsibility. Jaclyn never said so, but I suspect the merchant fell in love with her."

  "They always do." These words were laced with bitterness, and it was clear that Allan counted himself among this ensnared number.

  "But he was shrewd, too. He never married her, which is what she tried for. He never released her from her bonds; he never really trusted her."

  "Then he's a smarter man than I."

  "Don't say that, Dad." Jordan put a hand on his forearm. Allan patted the back of her hand.

  "When their seasonal circuits would bring them to Rodania, Torpizar always had an audience with the king, as his goods came from places on Oriceran that were exotic and unique. This was before the system relied on portmasters to regulate everything. Since then, the laws have changed, and merchants like Torpizar don't exist in the same way anymore. Anyway, the variety and quality of his goods surpassed all other merchants of the time, so he was welcome on Upper Rodania. And of course, Jaclyn came with him."

  "And when King Konig got a look at those big, brown eyes…"

  Ashley nodded slowly. "This is the part of the story I feel holds Jaclyn's greatest wound. You say that men always fall in love with her… Well, I think King Konig finally got the better of her, and she fell in love with him."

  Allan made a noise of disbelief in the back of his throat.

  Ashley sensed his incredulity. "I have no doubt about this. King Konig bought her freedom and welcomed her to live at the palace. He showered her with expensive gifts, an apartment, whatever she wanted."

  "What about the queen?"

  "She turned a blind eye. According to Jaclyn, she always did when it came to King Konig's mistresses."

  "And then what happened?"

  Ashley's mouth flattened. "Jaclyn didn't tell me why she left Rodania. There is a black hole in her story wherever she wants there to be a black hole. She’d told me my whole life that Torpizar was my father, that she traded herself for freedom. She didn’t want me to know of my true heritage until it suited her."

  "Why not?" Jordan asked.

  "Because, what would have stopped Ashley from leaving Jaclyn to make his claim in Rodania years ago?" Allan theorized. "Ashley was her most valuable asset. Naturally, she would want to keep him where she could control him."

  Ashley nodded. "But everything has changed now. King Konig is dead, and I'm no longer under Jaclyn's control."

  "Dead?" Allan let out a long breath through pursed lips. "How do you know? Surely I would have heard the announcement at the university?"

  "We know because we were there," explained Jordan. "Ashley had some of the fungus I went to Charra-Rae for. He took it from the stores Jaclyn has been keeping in the basement under the trade office in Maticaw. We delivered it to Juer together, but it was too late. It only happened a few hours ago."

  "Did you actually see the king?"

  The twins nodded.

  "He knew who we were," added Jordan, her voice quiet and sad. "He even told us he loved Jaclyn."

  She explained to her father what had happened when they were in the king's chambers, what he wrote in the air, and how Juer, Darber, and Balroc had each reacted. She explained there was to be a hearing to determine whether or not the twins’ right to the throne would be upheld or not. Allan's face grew serious as the position the twins were in became clear. His shock at their true identity transformed into worry for their safety as Jordan told the story.

  "So now what?" Allan asked through stiff lips.

  Jordan spoke first. "We will either be coronated, or…"

  "Or, what?"

  "We don't know. Banished? Left alone to live our lives? Accused of treason?" Ashley and Jordan's eyes connected, their fates linked. "We have to wait and see."

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Eohne stood at her worktable, eyeing the butterflies miserably. She let out a long sigh and lifted her fingertips to her temples where the beginnings of a headache were stirring.

  For days, she and Linlett had been working together on the barrier magic without success. They had taken apart whole sections of the magic and reassembled them, looking for traces of tampering. Linlett had to do the actual physical work with the filaments, since only he had the ability to touch them, but Eohne was there, making notes and using her powerful memory to help.

  It was frustrating, because Eohne knew what she was capable of; she just hadn't yet been able to bridge the Light Elves’ magic with her own. It was like trying to communicate with someone who didn't speak the same language; basic concepts came across roughly, but full understanding was nuanced and as elusive as the tide.

  Linlett had tried to show Eohne how to transform her fingertips into the stars that would allow her to feel the filaments, to move and read them, but thus far she seemed incapable of this kind of magic. It was disheartening. After all, the Elves of Charra-Rae were descended from the Light Elves. Surely the residue of their magic would still reside within Eohne's body, there to access if she learned how. Perhaps she'd just been in tune with frequencies for so long that any other magical language she might have been capable of had gone dormant.

  They had visited more than half of the domes. Linlett would remove the dashboards, and the same beautiful web of threaded color and light would shoot into the sky, intact and perfect. Linlett worked tirelessly, without complaint or any display of discouragement. He was convinced that as long as they didn't give up, they would find the source of the problem. It had to be there—–some trace, some clue… they just hadn't found it yet.

  Time was passing, and Eohne still hadn't responded to Sohne. She was unsure of what to say and unsure of how long she could remain absent from Charra-Rae without the Elf princess getting impatient enough to punish her.

  No more messages had come; it wasn't Sohne's style to repeat herself. Eohne had begun to wonder if the Elf princess would send someone to retrieve her, or worse, come herself.

  Sohne rarely leaves the safety of our forest kingdom, but might she? For an Elf subject as valuable as me? Eohne didn't know. She just kept telling herself that she'd go home in another week, just one more week.

  Somehow, that week would roll by, and still Eohne stayed.

  And now, Linlett. Another reason to stay.

  The work was fascinating. It was frustrating, but the feeling that they were on the edge of a breakthrough increased every day.

  Eohne's eye fell on her leather belt containing the small vials of vibratory essence, the same one she'd been wearing when she first left Charra-Rae.

  The same belt I tracked Toth and Caje with, she thought with a pang.

  She smiled as she next remembered all the work she had done cutting down harpy venom in a bid to save Allan, which had thankfully worked.

  Eohne picked up a vial and glowered at the clear liquid inside. She enclosed the tiny vial in her fist, then shut her eyes and tuned in to its contents.

  She could feel the subtle, barely detectable vibration which told her its origin––harpy. No other creature shared a vibration like it. Every creature, every plant, every living organism had its own unique signature.

  Eohne opened her eyes and gazed at the vial, still feeling the tingle in her skin.

  Then she got an idea.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  Leaving Ashley at Allan's for the night, Jordan said goodbye and took to the air, headed for home. Her mind swirled, and her gut roiled on the edge of nausea as a rat of worry had its way with her insides.

  The sun was kissing the horizon, and the colors of Rodania had turned into a palett
e of pastels. As Jordan landed on the terrace of her apartment with Sol, she closed her eyes and sucked in a long, steadying breath.

  "Jordan? Is that you?" Sol's voice called from the bedroom, his tone incredulous.

  "It's me," she answered. Just the sound of his voice was enough to steady her.

  "That has to be some kind of record," he said with a laugh as he emerged, his hands full of boiled leather armor. The moment he saw Jordan's face, his own melted into a mask of concern. "What's wrong?"

  Jordan gazed at him, her vision growing blurry. Sol knew nothing of what had transpired over the last day. She was loath to complicate his life further—–he needed to focus on Golpa, on doing the job and getting back safely.

  Jordan began to speak but her throat closed up. Sol's loving face was enough to bring all of her emotion rushing to the forefront, and she finally felt allowed to fall apart a little.

  "What is it?" He put the leather and the knives on the nearest stool and came over to where Jordan stood on the terrace. He put his hands on her shoulders. "Jordan, what's happened? Is it something to do with Sohne?" His voice hardened. "What has that wretched Elf done now?"

  At his touch, a sob broke from Jordan's throat, and she sagged against him, willing herself not to bawl like a baby. Tears came anyway. Sol wrapped his arms around her and squeezed, his warmth soaking into her, and she closed her eyes and drank it through every pore. Sol didn't pressure her to talk, he just held her as the remaining day's light leaked from the sky.

  When she was ready, Jordan wiped her face. The kitchen was full of supplies, so she pulled Sol into the bedroom where they could sit on the bed. Sol listened quietly while the story spilled out of her; she told him everything that had happened and everything she had learned. When she revealed to him who her biological father was, he didn't seem as surprised as she expected him to be.

  "You're not shocked?" she asked, watching his face.

  "I am," he said, shaking his head. "It's just that I actually had the thought once before, that you might be related to the king. I didn't suspect you were his daughter, but… something in his family tree."

  "You did?" Jordan was startled by this admission. It was the first Sol had ever mentioned it. "When? Why?"

  "Way back, when we spent that first night on Oriceran together. Remember?"

  Jordan smiled. "When we had giant crab for dinner and took turns staying awake? How could I forget?"

  Sol nodded. "When you started to talk about how your mom had to be on Oriceran and I had to help you find her. That it was the reason we met."

  "Oh, yeah." Jordan looked a little sheepish. "I was pretty insistent."

  Sol chuckled at the memory. "I first noticed the color of your eyes in the parlor of your house. Such an unusual shade," he murmured, tucking her hair behind her ears. "Yet it was so familiar, and I couldn't figure out why."

  "King Konig's eyes."

  Sol nodded again. "Yes. As courier I’d had occasion to be in the same room as him a few times, picking up messages and whatnot. But I couldn't put you and him together in a way that made sense, so when I met you, it wasn't obvious why your eyes were so familiar to me. King Konig was far from my mind at that moment in time. But when you talked about your mother being on Oriceran somewhere, that's when I remembered where I had seen eyes like yours before. Only it was too farfetched to believe, so I just dismissed it."

  "Wow."

  "So, what do they intend to do with you?"

  She explained that the Council was meeting to discuss her and Ashley's legitimacy for the throne, and that Juer had been the only witness. She left out the disdain that Darber had shown toward Sol; there was no point in bringing up the Councilman's personal feelings.

  Sol's bright blue eyes darkened. "What happens if they decide against you?"

  "I don't know. I don't know anything, Sol. But I hope they do decide against us."

  Sol's brow wrinkled. "What? Why?"

  "I don't want to be a ruler! I don't want any more power or responsibility than I already have. I have never wanted that. Having power made my dad miserable and corrupted my mother, if she wasn't already corrupt before. If she was, power just made her worse."

  "Jordan."

  She kept talking. "I don't want to be anything like her. I just want to be happy. I want to be with you. I want to make Rodania safe, make sure my father is healthy and happy. That's it. I'm not complicated, even though I seem to bring complication with me wherever I go."

  "Jordan." This time Sol's voice was sharp enough to make her pause. "If you do not do everything in your power to claim your inheritance, then I don't want anything more to do with you." His eyes had gone sharp.

  Jordan gasped. "What?" Her voice quavered, she could hardly believe what she was hearing.

  Sol got up and began to pace, his wings flexing in and out with agitation. "How many times have you pinned me down, asking me why I never did anything to help better the Nychts’ situation? How many nights since we first talked about it have I spent awake, trying to think of one way I could help make life in Rodania better for them?"

  "You've spent nights awake?"

  "Of course, I have! Jordan, I spent most of my life thinking that working in service to my government and my king was the best thing I could do, the way I could have a positive impact on the world. I know better now. Governments and monarchies are only as good as the people who make them up. And right now, Rodania's government is sick, it's bloated with its own arrogance." Sol's voice was rising. "Where do you think this country is headed? You were at the ceremony. You saw with your own eyes the nature of our next ruler, and those of the Arpaks who support him. Do you want all the Strix who died during that battle to have died in vain? Because that's how it's going to be if Diruk takes the throne."

  Jordan blinked at this impassioned version of Sol. She was stung, but deep down, she was also ashamed. Sol wasn't wrong.

  "I don't care if you don't feel like taking on the responsibility that your birthright thrusts upon you. To cast it aside or treat it with disdain is foolhardy to the point of immoral. It's the equivalent of being given an unbeatable weapon in the middle of a harpy battle, and purposefully dropping it into the sea."

  Jordan's mouth parted with shock, but words failed her. She'd never seen Sol like this before. Her heart pounded at the righteous fury in his eyes. She understood that it wasn't directed at her, but at a decision she might make, an outcome that only may come to pass.

  "Jordan," Sol came back to the bed and took her face in his hands. "There aren't very many people I know who could wield power responsibly, but you are one of them. If you are given this gift, or burden—–because yes, it is both—–then grab it with both hands and use it to help those who need it. Don't run away because you're afraid of it. Don't be weak." He brushed the moisture from her cheeks, his voice softening and the anger passing out of his eyes like the clouds of a passing storm. "Be a queen."

  Shame burned Jordan's cheeks. Sol was right, and she loved him for it. "Well," Jordan croaked, taking his hands. "We know where you stand, don't we?"

  Sol smiled. "Sorry. I can get a bit carried away when the future of my country is at stake."

  "I understand that. But Sol, I have no cards to play. Yes, King Konig admitted that Ashley and I are his children, and your Uncle saw it, but I don't think the Council is going to acknowledge it."

  "They might," Sol said, hope lighting his eyes. "You don't know what is going to happen."

  Jordan nodded, squeezing his hands with hers. "You're right, we don't know. So until then," she got up from the bed, shaking off her anxiety, "we've got some work to do. Let's get you ready for Golpa."

  ***

  To an outside observer, Eohne and Linlett might have looked as though they were doing some strange dance. Eohne stood facing Linlett's back, her eyes closed and bound with a kerchief to shut out the pervading light, her palms on the bare skin of his ribcage.

  She still flushed when she thought about her suggestion
that he remove his shirt and allow her to feel the subdued vibrations of each filament as they passed through his body.

  To her pleasant surprise, Linlett had not cocked a lusty eyebrow or smirked arrogantly at her suggestion. He'd simply nodded, elegant brows drawn together. "That makes sense," and doffed his tunic.

  Eohne had suspected that Linlett's skin changed color, but she had never guessed how drastically. She tried not to stare but it was nearly impossible.

  Linlett's skin was very pale in hue on his face and hands, but the terrain of his body changed color the closer it got to his heart. The skin over the left side of his chest was the color of cinnamon, but it grew lighter in color as it radiated outward from his heart. The dashes that ran across his cheeks and hands also ran across sections of his chest and stomach.

  Linlett's pale green eyes observed Eohne scanning the canvas of his bare torso. As he turned to toss aside his tunic, she saw that the same coloring and patterns were mirrored on his back.

  "It's a sign of my calling," he said by way of explanation.

  "Your calling?"

  "I'm an Etheriast. It's why the Light Elves sent me." He looked down at himself. "I can access the invisible medium that permeates the universe and allows light to travel. Every time I do it, I get more markings and this," he put a hand over the cinnamon skin on his heart, "gets darker."

  "Like a tan."

  Linlett nodded.

  "I've never met anyone like you," blurted Eohne.

  "The feeling is mutual, I can assure you." Linlett smiled at her. "Shall we continue?"

  Eohne nodded. Linlett turned his back to her and she put her blindfold on and set her hands on his ribs. Linlett's fingers illuminated as he touched and held one filament at a time.

  When they'd first begun this exercise, it had taken Eohne a long time to feel the vibration of the filament as it passed through Linlett's body and into her fingertips. Linlett needed to hold a filament between the brightly-lit ends of his fingers for nearly a minute before she would tell him to go on and select another. But the longer they did it, the faster Eohne got until Linlett was touching the filaments at a rate of one per second. Eohne's mind found the frequency and categorized it; Arpak, Arpak, Nycht, Arpak, Elf, human, Arpak. And so on.