Three
“Forgive me for being the voice of reason here,” Jaxon said, sounding anything but apologetic, “but you’ve just told us that not only are you from another world entirely, you also overcame a blood-bonding ritual that has—supposedly—left you with the same abilities as an immortal being. A ritual you claim has been performed on an entire city of Meyarins, all of whom are now under the mind control of their evil overlord.” He raised his eyebrows and glanced around the table. “Does anyone else have difficulty believing this preposterous account of teenage fancy?”
“In my defence,” Alex said, struggling to keep her tone diplomatic, “I never used the words ‘evil overlord’. You came up with that on your own.”
The advisor glowered at her. “Indeed. Though the implication was there.”
“Oh, I’m not arguing,” Alex returned. “That’s exactly what Aven is. But you already knew that, otherwise none of you would be here for this meeting.”
As promised, Alex had told them everything—or at least, everything they needed to know, leaving out her visit to the past just as she had with her teachers.
“Let’s say we believe you,” General Drock said in his gruff voice. “What exactly would you have us do? If Aven is the threat you claim he is, we’re already as good as dead.”
Alex grimaced, knowing he wasn’t far off the mark.
“I’d rather go back to the vision you saw,” Commander Nisha cut in, her focus solely on Alex. “You said the Library showed you a possible future and claimed it would come true if you—specifically you—fail to stop Aven?”
When Alex nodded, albeit reluctantly, it was Jaxon who spoke up again.
“How ludicrous.” His weathered face was filled with scorn. “The child obviously has delusions of grandeur. I don’t know why we’re listening to her when she’s clearly an attention seeker of the worst kind.”
It was only William’s warning glance coupled with a comforting squeeze from Jeera that kept Alex from lashing out at the older man.
“Whether you choose to believe me or not,” she said, keeping her voice level, “the truth will reveal itself in time. And that’s why I’m here today—so that you’re prepared when that time comes.”
Jaxon sneered his disbelief, but before he could interject, Alex continued, “Worst-case scenario and I am an attention-seeking brat, then what’s the harm in making a few contingency plans?”
“The kid does have a point,” Drock mused. “Whether or not her account is true, it won’t hurt to be extra vigilant.”
“It’s not like she’s asking us to plan an offensive attack against Meya,” Tyson put in. “She’s just suggesting we increase our defences in preparation for when Aven comes for us.”
Alex tried not to show how relieved she was by both generals’ support. Tyson in particular, she knew, was somehow connected to Hunter, and since Hunter trusted Alex, it was clear that Tyson was of the same mind.
“What would such preparations require?” asked the king, the shadows beneath his eyes further darkened by this new burden.
“The cities are already well defended, but we should send out troops to protect the smaller villages and lesser populated townships,” Tyson said.
“We should also consider increasing the number of scouts we have out on patrol, as well as extending their range,” Drock added. He tipped his head towards Jeera. “I suggest a minimum of one Sword to accompany each unit in case your Wardens detect something the soldiers miss.”
Alex remembered Kaiden telling her that only Akarnae graduates could become Swords. That meant Wardens like Jeera all had gifts—gifts that might help with reconnaissance.
“We should also set up a special task force of trusted Shields dedicated solely to investigating the threat and what we should expect to face,” William put in. He’d grown paler after hearing Alex’s news, making the scar running along the side of his face stand out more than usual. “At the very least, we should attempt to learn what Aven is planning before he decides to make any kind of move against us.”
“And how, exactly, do you plan on doing that?” Jaxon asked in a scathing tone. “Everything we know comes from a pretentious fifteen-year-old who received psychedelic visions of the future from a sentient library, of all things.”
“Excuse me,” Alex couldn’t help snapping, “but I’m seventeen. And a half.”
If she could go back and change one moment of the meeting, that would be it. But of everything he’d accused her of, it was the only part she could confirm as completely factual.
“The greatest leaders of our time are in this room,” Jaxon continued, ignoring Alex entirely. “Surely—surely—you can’t be buying into this girl’s claims.”
His statement was met with silence. Alex knew there was nothing else she could say without appearing desperate for their validation. And while she was desperate, she also knew she had to let them make the decision on their own.
“It doesn’t matter what any of us believe,” Nisha eventually said. “A threat has been assumed, so regardless of personal opinions, we are duty bound to follow protocol.” Her eyes locked onto the king and queen. “With your majesties’ permission, precautions will be carried out as suggested by the generals, and with the assistance of the Wardens, we’ll monitor the situation—both in the field and with William’s specialist team. Until we know more, we’ll remain on high alert with around-the-clock surveillance from both the Wardens and the militia.”
“Agreed,” King Aurileous said without hesitation.
Despite Nisha’s plan and the king’s easy acceptance, Alex still didn’t feel as if it was enough.
“What about the others?” she asked.
The king just looked at her. “Others?”
“The other races—the other mortals Aven will target. What will be done to warn and protect them?”
Jaxon snorted but at a searing look from the king, the advisor kept his thoughts to himself.
“Why don’t we wait and see what intelligence William and his team uncover before we discuss a diplomatic means to warn the rest of Medora,” the king said, more a statement than a question.
Alex shook her head. “They need to know. They’re in as much danger as the rest of us.”
“So you say,” Jaxon mumbled under his breath.
Alex ignored the surly man and kept her eyes on the king.
“The inter-species political environment isn’t the most stable at the moment, Alex,” Aurileous said, his tone apologetic but unyielding. “Until we can offer proof of a threat against them, it’s best we keep this to ourselves.”
It took a great deal of courage for Alex to quietly say, “With all due respect, Your Highness, you’re wrong.”
“Insufferable child,” Jaxon said, again under his breath, and again Alex ignored him.
“They need to know what’s coming,” she continued. Her body rigid, she finished, “And if you don’t tell them, I will.”
Jaxon leaned forward. “You do that, and it will be considered an act of treason.” He seemed almost gleeful at the thought.
“Enough, Jaxon,” the king said, rubbing his face before looking sternly at Alex. “But he’s right. If you go against my word on this, Alex, you risk damaging years of diplomatic negotiations. I’m sorry, but I can’t allow you to act—not until we know more. Do you understand what I’m saying?”
Alex looked down at her fisted hands and deliberately relaxed them. Yes, she understood what he was saying. But that wouldn’t be enough to stop her. None of them had seen the future where multitudes of mortals—human and otherwise—suffered and died at the hands of Aven’s forces. Alex would do everything she could to warn as many races as needed—treason be damned.
“I understand,” she said quietly, still looking down.
“Good,” the king said, just as quietly. He did, at least, sound remorseful, and Alex had to remind herself that he too was in a difficult position. The relationships between the various mortal races were a mystery to her, especially when it came to politics. But she was determined to continue with her own plans despite the consequences. She was doing the right thing—she was sure of it.
“I guess we’re done here,” Alex said. “If I hear anything else, who should I contact?”
“Commander, with your permission, I volunteer as a go-between for future communications,” Jeera said. When Nisha nodded her consent, the younger Warden turned back to Alex. “Do you have your ComTCD on you?”
Alex pulled it from her pocket and handed it over.
Jeera played around with some of the more complicated settings Alex had never experimented with and then passed it back.
“I’ve input my details using a secure network connection,” Jeera said. “No one will be able to monitor our communications, so feel free to holo-call me any time, day or night. I’ll always make time for you.”
Something in Jeera’s voice made Alex realise her offer wasn’t just to gather information—it was also to simply talk. Because of that, she gave the Warden a small smile and a quiet, “Thanks, Jeera.”
“We’ll also be sure to let you know if we find anything more on our end,” Queen Osmada said. She had remained mostly silent during the meeting, only offering a gentle word here or there, but her calming presence had still been very much appreciated by Alex.
“I’d be grateful for that, Your Majesty,” Alex said.
“I’ll show you back to the receiving room,” Jeera offered, standing.
Alex paused halfway out of her own chair when General Drock spoke up.
“Actually, Jeera, I’d like to have a word with the kid, so I’ll take her. She still has some grovelling to do.”
Alex turned to Jeera, eyes wide, but the Warden just flashed her a smile and shook her head slightly, denying Alex’s unspoken plea for help.
“No problem, General,” Jeera said. “She’s all yours.”
“Traitor,” Alex mumbled, causing Jeera’s smile to widen.
“I’ll speak with you soon, Alex,” William said, embracing her again. Before he let her go, he whispered in her ear, “Try not to worry. Aven is just one man—immortal or not. We’ll find a way to stop him.”
Alex swallowed the lump in her throat, pushing away the image of William and the rest of the Ronnigan family being strung up in Myrox cages outside of the Meyarin palace and left to die long, slow deaths.
“I’m sure you’re right,” she lied. “Good luck assembling your team—I hope you discover something useful.” And in time to save us all, she thought.
After bidding farewell to the king and queen, as well as Nisha and Tyson, Alex attempted to offer a gracious goodbye to the advisor. But Jaxon simply snubbed his nose up at her, so she rolled her eyes, waved to Jeera and William, and followed General Drock out of the room.
Her steps were reluctant as she kept half a pace behind him, waiting for the moment when he would say his piece. But he didn’t speak at all until they arrived in the abandoned receiving room, where he leaned in close and kept his voice hushed.
“You might have fooled them, but I’ve seen you in action, kid.”
Alex feigned offence. “I—”
“Don’t give me any of that,” he interrupted. “We both know you only came here as a courtesy. You’ve got your own plans and you’re going to see them through, no matter what.”
Wincing at his astuteness, Alex wasn’t quick enough to school her features.
Reading her guilt, Drock cursed—quietly but colourfully. “You’re a pain in my ass, kid.”
Alex crossed her arms. “What are you going to do, General? Lock me up as you’ve already threatened? Because that’s the only way you’ll keep me from doing what needs to be done.”
“You think I don’t know that?” he bit out.
Alex didn’t say anything, she just waited to see what would happen next.
With another quiet curse, and then a creative stream in quick succession, Drock reached into his black uniform and pulled out a pen-like stylus. He then latched his sword-calloused fingers around Alex’s hand, yanking her arm towards him with the underside facing up.
“What—”
“Quiet,” he ordered as he placed the nub of the stylus against the soft flesh of her wrist.
Alex hissed in pain when he started moving the tool along her skin and she tried to tug her hand back, but his grip was unyielding.
“What the hell are you doing?” she demanded in a shrill voice, tugging more forcibly but still unable to detach from his hold.
Drock’s piercing gaze flicked up to glare at her. “Shut it, kid. It’ll only hurt for a second.”
True enough, the pain started to abate until she only felt a faint throb. Looking down at her wrist, Alex noted with disbelieving eyes that the stylus was some kind of tattooing device and Drock was carving a sideways figure-of-eight into her skin—the eternity symbol.
“It might have been nice if you’d asked permission before permanently inking me,” Alex said through gritted teeth.
Drock didn’t respond. He just went back and forth over the symbol with the nub of the stylus, deepening the design with each pass. Unlike most tattoos, the ink was a white colour, barely noticeable even against her golden skin. She actually liked it enough that she might have chosen it for herself—if given the choice, which she was not.
“I presume there’s a reason you’ve suddenly decided to share your artistic side?” Alex asked when Drock finally released her hand.
“That,” the general said, pointing to her wrist, “is what’s called a Beacon. It’s next-gen experimental tech.”
“Experimental tech?” Alex looked from her barely-there tattoo back up to his face. “Why do I not like the sound of that?”
“If you were going to have a reaction, you would have already keeled over by now,” Drock grunted, returning the stylus to his pocket. “You survived the imprinting, so you’ve got nothing to worry about.”
Survived? Alex wondered exactly what kind of tech Drock had just ‘imprinted’ her with.
“Care to explain what it is?”
“I told you,” Drock said. “It’s a Beacon.”
Alex tapped her foot impatiently, her expression demanding more.
“You and I both know you’ll be going off on some half-assed attempt to commit treason by warning the other races,” Drock said. He didn’t wait for her confirmation—or denial—before he continued, “If you get in trouble, trace the symbol three times with your finger and it’ll send out an invisible signal flare, like a homing beacon, with coordinates that can be used to program Bubbledoors to your location. It’ll only work once without being reactivated, so use it only if you absolutely have to.” He glared at her as if to add weight to his words. “After you’ve traced it three times, follow that with one more trace if you need an extraction, or two more traces if you need an army of reinforcements. There’s no middle option—we either retrieve you quietly or we deploy for a battle. Understood?”
Alex looked at the general with suspicion. “Why are you giving me this? If you know what I’m going to do, why aren’t you throwing me in a dungeon?”
“Because you’re right,” Drock said without hesitation. “The other races need to be warned. Everyone in that room knows it.” He paused. “Well, everyone but that scurvy asswipe, Jaxon. But to be fair, he’s been the royal advisor for a long time, and while he’s set in his ways, he usually does offer sound advice.”
Drock shook his head and continued, “Never mind all that. The point is, you need to do what we can’t. I know that—and they know it, too. But our hands are tied, at least politically. And neither the king nor the commander is in a position to offer you the support you might need. So this is me doing what I can in the hope that you’ll never have to use it—for both our sakes, since I’ll likely be court-martialled if they find out what I’ve done. But I’d rather you have it and never use it than don’t have it and need it, consequences be damned.”
Feeling warmth bubble within her, Alex reached out a hand and wrapped her fingers around his muscled arm, giving a gentle squeeze. “Thank you, General,” she said, her voice slightly hoarse.
“Go on, get out of here, kid,” Drock said gruffly in response, but Alex could hear the emotion in his tone. He might be a formidable general who commanded half of Medora’s military, but he was also an old softie. Mostly. “Don’t get yourself killed.”
His words startled a chuckle out of Alex. “Same goes for you, General. And fair warning, if my parents see this ink and learn who it came from, you might not be able to keep up your end of the deal.”
It was Drock’s turn to chuckle, but his only other response was to make a shooing gesture with his hands, so Alex pulled out her return Bubbler vial and threw it to the ground, grinning at the general one last time before disappearing from the palace.