Coronation: A Kid Sensation Novel (Kid Sensation #5) (30 page)

BOOK: Coronation: A Kid Sensation Novel (Kid Sensation #5)
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I was perplexed. “Huh? What does that have to do with…”

My voice faded as I remembered. My great-grandfather was a member of the MiPluri. (Moreover, if I returned to Earth, he would continue to represent me by proxy in the Mectun.)

“With all that’s happened lately,” the queen went on, “there were a number of factions who felt that the makeup of my council, as well as current leadership within the Caelesian government, might not properly reflect what is best for our people.”

“So what happened?”

“Prince Norbeo did not get the majority of the votes from the Third Matrilineal.”

My eyes went wide. From what the queen was saying, my great-grandfather might not be part of the MiPluri any longer. Politically, and in terms of influence, it was unlikely to be a knockout punch, but it was certainly a solid body blow.

“However,” the queen went on, “the election of the MiPluri has been split, with all of the Mectun voting along royal branch lines for so long, that most have forgotten how votes are actually counted.”

“What are you getting at?” I asked.

“The MiPluri does not consist of the ten people who received the most votes from their respective royal branch. It is made up of the ten people who receive the most votes
overall
.”

“So, you’re saying that – despite not getting the majority of the votes from our own branch of the family tree – if Prince Norbeo received enough votes across the board, he could still be a member of the MiPluri.”

“Exactly,” Queen Dornoccia agreed. “And you’ll be pleased to know that I used all my influence to get him as many votes as possible from the other branches.”

“Really?” I said sarcastically, getting the feeling that there was more to the story.

“Of course. Prince Norbeo has been a boon companion and a staunch ally. I would never desert him. Still, the votes have yet to be counted…”

She gave me a sly look.

So, I was being given my choice. What should I do? I knew what my grandmother would do – she’d already told me: whatever it took to protect her family. I presumed Prince Norbeo felt the same; he’d already given up his hereditary titles in order to safeguard my future. How many more sacrifices had my Caelesian family made on my behalf? How many compromises had they made that I didn’t know about?

“But I have a girlfriend,” I said, mostly to myself.

Queen Dornoccia didn’t say anything. She merely sat there, waiting for me to make a choice.

“Alright,” I finally said. “But one question before I decide: did you do this? Did you call for this ‘special’ election in order to gain some leverage?”

A crafty look came over the queen’s face.

*****

After leaving Queen Dornoccia, I returned to the Castellum Cardinal and went looking for my grandmother. We hadn’t really had a chance to talk since our little adventure, and I had a number of questions. I found her in her study, which was now filled with enough packages and gifts to fill a warehouse.

“They’re still coming in?” I asked in surprise.

“Without cease,” she replied.

Since defeating Vicra, returning with a hale and hearty queen, and being cleared of any wrongdoing, our family’s fortunes appeared to be on the upswing (special MiPluri elections notwithstanding). That being the case, many who had shunned us when it looked as though we were down for the count were suddenly trying to curry our favor.

I noted that one of the gifts seemed to come with some type of card, which contained a handwritten inscription. I took a moment to glance at it, then frowned.


Sxahnin
,” I said, handing her the card, “maybe I’m misreading something, but it looks like this is made out to ‘Boy Crying.’”

“Yes,” my grandmother said, snickering a little. “I’ve been meaning to tell you that your translation of ‘Kid Sensation’ into Caelesian is a little off. You’ve essentially been using a term for ‘sensation’ that means ‘sensitive,’ ‘emotional,’ or – at worst – ‘weepy.’”

“So,” I concluded, “I’ve been referring to myself as ‘Weepy Boy?’”

“Among other things,” she replied with a laugh, “depending on the context and phrasing used.”

Well, that certainly put some things into perspective. Now I understood the odd looks I received every time I corrected someone regarding my sobriquet. Shaking my head in disgust at my own misstep, I tried to put the topic out of my mind by turning my attention back to the issue of the gifts in general.

“Where are we going to put all this stuff?” I asked.

“I don’t know. Maybe in your buildings.”

“Huh? What?” I asked, confused. “What do you mean
my
buildings?”

“That deserted area of town that you asked about,” Indigo said with a smile. “I bought it for you. Or rather, secured the dispensation for its use.”

“What? When?”

“The other day, right after you mentioned it. It was to be a reward for you after you passed the
prexetus
.”

“Or a consolation prize if I failed.”

“Nonsense. I knew you would succeed.”

“Well, thanks,” I said, giving her a hug. “Now I just need to find a way to entice people to visit that area again.”

“I don’t think that will be a problem,” Indigo said. She went to her desk and came back a moment later with a flower pot. In it was a little purple sprig – some small plant just starting to grow.

“What is this?” I asked.

“Just listen,” she replied.

Brow furrowed, I concentrated, listening for…what? And then I heard it – a soft, low musical note. I stared at the plant for a moment, stunned.

“It’s a Cantillate!” I finally blurted out.

“One of the servants found it among your things when they were cleaning your room yesterday. Or rather, she found the nut, cracked open and with the plant starting to grow. Once she heard the musical note, she realized what it was and brought it to me. Presumably, whatever you did to heal the queen also made the seed germinate. Assuming it survives, it will be an incredible draw to any area where it’s planted.”

“Including my new buildings.”

“Yes. I know you’ve been inside a few of them, but you should visit the rest of your holdings and see what they contain, since I obtained them with most of the contents included. Your bio-signature is already in their security matrices, so you should have no trouble getting inside.”

Well, that was another mystery explained – why the door to the museum repository had unlocked for me. Thinking again about what had happened, I reminded my grandmother again of how brilliant her idea was to take the queen to the Beobona.

“Maybe half-brilliant is better. I didn’t know if the Beobona would open for her, and as you yourself saw, it didn’t. Then Myshtal found us, and right on her tail was Vicra. We’re just lucky you showed up when you did.”

“I understand that when you took the queen, you used your powers to knock out her guards,” I said. “Why didn’t you just do the same thing to Vicra?”

“Believe me, I tried. But even though I could sense his thoughts and knew that he was coming, I couldn’t quite get a grip on him with my telepathy. It was as if he was and wasn’t there at the same time.”

I thought about the side effects of time travel that Yelere had mentioned, but didn’t say anything.

“After I realized I couldn’t stop him with my powers,” she continued, “I was worried that he may have had a psychic with him – someone or something that was neutralizing my abilities. That being the case, I activated a special force field, one so powerful that not even telepathy could penetrate it.”

“And that’s when I made an appearance.”

“Yes – and wearing the armor I’d had made especially for you,” she said, which was something I hadn’t known. “After that, I knew things would be fine.”

“Even when Vicra left me stranded a zillion years in the past?”

“I had to admit I was a little concerned when he came back without you. Then he vanished and reappeared with those robots, who started doing something to dampen the force field. That was about the only time I worried any in earnest. Still, I knew you’d never desert us; I just didn’t know if you’d make it back in time. When you stepped out of the statue of the Unbeaten Warrior, I couldn’t believe my eyes.”

“I still can’t believe it,” I said. “Some parts of it just don’t seem real.”

“Well, your new healing power seems real enough.”

“If I can get it working again,” I remarked, reflecting on how the blue glow had seemed to fade after I healed Queen Dornoccia, along with the buzzing in my head (which, in the past, had always denoted a new power). “I’m still not sure what I did.”

“Regardless, you saved the queen. The Beobona itself couldn’t have done any better.”

I was silent for a moment, then said, “Speaking of the Beobona, why do you think it opened for Vicra?”

“I’ve thought about that, and believe I may have the answer, but you aren’t going to like it.”

“Let me hear it anyway.”

Indigo sighed, as if she were about to broach an unpleasant subject.

“I think the Beobona opened up for Vicra because it wanted to be whole again,” she said.

“Whole?” I asked, thinking.

“You noticed it the first time you saw the jewel – that a piece seemed to be missing. You were right. And based on what you told me happened to you, it was in two pieces for ages. I think it’s been manipulating people and events for quite some time in order to achieve its own ends – unity.”

I blinked, trying to get my mind around the scope of my grandmother’s theory.

“Wait,” I said. “Are you saying that everything it’s done – from saving my life to going to Earth to the birth of my mother – all of that was done for the single, sole, and solitary purpose of reuniting its two fragments?”

“I can’t say that was the sole reason, but I believe that to have been part of its purpose.”

“Is that what kept me alive – is that
why
it kept me alive – for ages, encased in some living metal? All so I could just be some type of courier and deliver the missing piece of itself?”

The implications were staggering. Was my whole life up to this point really only intended to fulfill that particular function? Had I already fulfilled my destiny, my purpose? And if so, what lay ahead for me now?


Sxibbo
,” Indigo said, “don’t overthink this. Trying to unravel the mysteries and secrets of the Beobona is simply futile, like trying to count the number of stars.”

“But this is
my
life. I won’t be controlled or manipulated.”

“Well, have you felt controlled or manipulated?”

Her question took me by surprise. In truth, I hadn’t, and I admitted as much.

“Then don’t worry about it. When a natural disaster strikes, like an earthquake or a tornado, people get out of the path of danger. Events force them to take certain actions, and they do what’s necessary to save themselves, but they don’t rail against nature, saying that it manipulated them or robbed them of free will.”

I let out a pent-up breath. She was right. The Beobona really was more like a force of nature than a living thing (not that it was alive). It shouldn’t be viewed as some grand puppet master, although that’s exactly what it might be. All I could do was live my life as I saw fit.

“I’m sorry,
Sxahnin
,” I said. “You’re right. Plus, when it comes down to it, I would probably prefer to have the Beobona save me for unknown reasons than simply let me perish. That said, I can’t believe that all it could come up with was letting me become a statue.”

“That reminds me,” Indigo said excitedly. “Did you really see the original J’h’dgo and Plavicre the Glorious?”

“Well, the latter was just a boy, but I’m pretty sure it was them, yeah.”

“Would you mind sharing the memory with me?”

“Of course not.”

A moment later, she was in my head. Telepathically, it only took a few seconds to let her see what had happened: the weird metal slowly covering me, the appearance of Plavicre and J’h’dgo, the order to leave me to my fate.

When I broke the connection, I expected my grandmother to be on pins and needles. Instead, she had a rather pensive look on her face.

“What is it?” I asked. “What’s wrong?”

She looked at me for a moment, which stretched out into a lengthy, but not uncomfortable, silence.

Finally, she said, “You’ve done a good job of learning the Caelesian language,
Sxibbo
. You’ve put in the necessary work and are now essentially fluent, despite a few missteps. However, your ear still hasn’t yet become finely attuned, such that you can pick up some of the verbal distinctions and nuances in certain dialects.”

“What are you getting at,
Sxahnin
?” I asked.

“The man in the memory you showed me – the one with the accent.”

“Yorn.”

“Yorn! Yes, Yorn. He had an accent that you apparently weren’t able to properly decipher.”

“How’s that?”

“The name he called the
Koorateen
wasn’t J’h’dgo,” she said, giving me a frank stare. “It was John Indigo.”

THE END
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