Plague of Mybyncia (6 page)

“Where are they?” Pratt looks around.

“On their way. Should be here any
minute.”

“Is it really smart to separate?” I ask.
“Even for the night?”

“It’s custom,” Clarence shrugs, eyeing Jace,
Booker and Werzo, smirking at their ogling stares. “Though I can
see the Rogues are trying to work a way around it.”

“They won’t,” Tucker assures him.

“Let’s hope not. The last thing we need is to
insult the queen.”

“And she’d get upset over that?” Reid shifts
his focus from me to Clarence. “What exactly would constitute the
insult?”

“Well…” and now Clarence tilts his head to
the side, considering. “The Mybyncians are very traditional.
Talking is fine. But anything physical… well,” he laughs, shaking
his head. “That’s a no-go. And certainly
don’t
violate
sleeping quarters. That’s a
big
no-no. Ah,” Clarence motions
to the Great Hall’s largest tunnel opening, “here we are.”

Armed by a fleet of cobalt-tunic wearing
mayans, the queen strolls in with a regal air. Her stark white hair
has been pulled back in a generous bun and a crown of pink and
golden pearls rests atop her head. She’s donned in the same
fashions as earlier—an iridescent shell bra and a burgundy floor
length skirt—but a sheer piece of white silk has been wrapped from
her left shoulder to the right side of her waist. She pauses and
the guards halt as well, everyone silencing as she enters the
room.

Behind her, the three princesses appear.

All dressed the same at their mother, the
first sports a turquoise mane pulled back tightly, ringlets
dripping down her back with pink pearls immersed throughout. She
scans the room with the same skeptical air as her mother, eyes
resting on us curiously. Behind her, the second princess has
emerald hair plaited into several divisions, all tied into one
massive bun on the crown of her head, the same pink pearls weaved
throughout. She offers us a passing glance, nothing more.

The third princess, barely smaller than her
sisters, appears last. Cascading lavender locks stream over her
shoulders, curling at their tips down by her breasts. A soft pink
hue heats her cheeks, matching the pearls and ribbons interlocked
through her hair and down the burgundy of her skirt. She gazes out
to her people with warmth, her bright orange eyes finding us. With
a short intake of air, she pauses, caught off by our generous
stares, especially Tucker, who seems to have stopped breathing.

Chancellor Keller excuses himself from
Sampson and situates himself to the queen’s right. “May I present
Queen Ravan and her daughters, Princess Sansa, Princess Varille,
and Princess Ariana.”

The hall simultaneously bows. With their
attendants’ assistance, Queen Ravan and her daughters ascend to
their seats and once settled in their thrones, everyone rises to a
full stand again.

Queen Ravan glimpses the chancellor on her
right. “Proceed.”

“The queen will now taste her Glippis
eye.”

She brings the gelled substance to her mouth
and takes a bite. Chewing, a large lump rolls down her throat and
she turns to her daughters. They follow, selecting a piece of the
diced eye and feeding themselves with their fingers. After each has
swallowed their bits, Queen Ravan nods at Chancellor Keller.

“The feast may begin,” his voice echoes
around the hall.

Everyone begins eating, bringing whatever
food is in their hand to their mouth without hesitation and the
gratifying sound ripples through the masses.

“Here we are,” Clarence passes around the
palm-sized jellied red spheres, handing one to each of us. When we
simply stare at it, he brings his own to his mouth, demonstrating.
“Just bite into it.”

“Gross.” Werzo frowns at his hand.

“We can’t
not
…” Tucker stares down at
the red eye. He glances to Reid, as if hoping he’d offer some
counter point. But Reid remains silent.

“Anyone got any salt?” Jace looks around,
smirking.

“Well…” I bring my hand to my nose and
inhale. It doesn’t have a scent really, but looks slimy, like the
outermost layer is going to stick to my fingers. If this is all
we’ll have to eat, I’ll be starving in no time. “Bottoms up.”

Bringing the red eye to my mouth, I dig my
teeth in to the jellied substance and try not to gag. It’s not the
worst thing I’ve ever eaten—chewier than I would’ve thought—but it
still takes a lot to get it down. They’re all waiting for my
reaction. Am I going to vomit? It feels like it. Instead of
offering the truth—it’s right up there with the Vermix gruel—I
signal a thumbs up. But the grimace on my face must say it all
because the others are still hesitant about trying it.

“Bunch of bravados,” Clarence rolls his eyes
before withdrawing towards Sampson.

“If she can do it,” Booker brings the jellied
sphere to his mouth. Biting into it, he immediately winces, pulling
the red eye back.

“Don’t spit it out,” I shake my head.
“They’ll take it as disrespect.”

“
This
is disrespect,” Werzo frowns at
Booker’s face. “This isn’t even food.”

“Then don’t eat it,” Reid samples the red eye
without the slightest reaction. He chews fully, swallows and goes
for another bite. When he finishes, he keeps his sights deadlocked
on Werzo. “We can’t afford to offend them. So if you don’t want it,
just give it back and be quiet about it.”

Tucker follows Reid’s lead, biting into the
eye as Pratt, Mae and Jace do the same. I go for my second bite,
watching Werzo’s internal argument play. Finally, he gives in and
our group slowly consumes our portion of Blovid’s favorite
delicacy. Clarence comes around offering seconds but everyone
immediately declines. The Brekin tongue is served next and it’s the
same thing. I’m the first to try and it ends up being merely
edible. Everyone gets about two to three bites of each dish in
before politely refusing the rest, Clarence more than happy to eat
the remains.

“I feel like I’m going to barf,” Werzo grips
his hand to his exposed stomach, his face suddenly turning a
frightening green.

“Keep it down,” Tucker warns.

“I think that eyeball did something to me…”
Werzo covers his mouth, racing through the crowd for the tunnel to
his quarters.

He flies past the bottom of the thrones,
where Queen Ravan and her daughters meander through the heavy crowd
which automatically parts for them. Surrounded by their attendants,
they move like a bubble through the bodies and head for us just as
Sampson, Qippert and the chancellor join our side.

“On your best behavior,” Clarence tosses us a
look and frowns. “Where’s Werzo?”

Tucker is about to explain, but pauses at the
arrival of the queen and her daughters. A quick inhale and his body
goes rigid.

With a regal but stoic expression, the queen
glances over our group, addressing
us
specifically—the
humans. “How did you like the Glippis eye?”

We all look to each other, hoping someone
else will be the one to answer. After an excruciatingly long
second, I can’t take it anymore.

“It’s similar to one of our home dishes…” I
force a grin. “Very reminiscent of Earth.”

“And you are not able to return?” There’s no
sorrow in her words, no ounce of sympathy or pain, just sheer,
emotionless curiosity.

I grit my teeth. “Correct.”

“I am very sorry to hear that,” the princess
with the lavender hair frowns. She gazes over all of us, scanning
Tucker’s stiff posture next to her. “Is there no possibility?”

“Not really, Princess Ariana,” Sampson
addresses this one, “at this point, at least.”

“Do you miss it terribly?” she asks,
directing her question to Tucker.

He opens his mouth but no words come out. He
tries again and again, it’s silence.

“We’ll always miss it,” Reid speaks at
Tucker’s hesitation, “but there’s no point in reminiscing over the
past. We can only go forward,” his eyes flicker to me before
shifting back to hers.

“And how are you liking Mybyncia?”

“It must be different from Harrizel’s
savageness,” the emerald-haired sister fights off an obvious
yawn.

“Savageness?” Jace frowns.

“You lived in close quarters with your
females, no? How…” she offers him a belittling glance,
“rudimentary...”

“We had no choice,” Pratt snaps. “We were
prisoners.”

“So I have heard. Still,” and her eyes survey
the hall again, bored with us, “even slaves can keep their
honor.”

“Varille!” the third sister gasps, “You are
being rude to our guests.”

“They are only our guests because Blovid
fled. If the Vermix had not
attacked
us,” a tinge of anger
escapes at the word, “we would be honoring him instead of these…
humans.”

“These
humans
,” Clarence grinds his
teeth, “helped secure our escape.”

“How lovely. I will be sure to remember that
when we are attacked again.”

“
Varille
,” Queen Ravan addresses her
daughter with stern orange eyes, “I believe your opinions have been
made clear. Let us not speak of this anymore. Please,” and now she
returns a look to us, “enjoy yourselves. Tomorrow we shall discuss
what can be done for your departure so you may rejoin Blovid in his
escape.”

“Your Majesty,” Sampson bows, the rest of us
following, “we cannot express our gratitude for the kindness you
have bestowed.”

The queen lowers her head, her daughters
mimicking the gesture and they start to leave. Princess Ariana
tosses a glance over her shoulder at us. “Have a wonderful
evening.”

Tucker, still stunned, brings his hand up to
wave but drops it a second later. Reid leans into him, quietly
whispering. The Rogue leader nods in response, still staring off
after the princess. “Fine.”

“How about something to drink?” Reid pulls
back with a smirk, trying to hide a laugh.

“There’s some Hunnis,” Clarence grins. “It’s
got a little…
kick
. Might relax you a bit.”

“Where?” Reid asks.

“Follow me. Ladies,” Clarence turns to us,
“will you be alright? You are honored guests so if you need
something, simply ask.”

“Just not Varille,” Pratt mutters.

“No…” he laughs, “but Qippert or the
chancellor will get you anything you need. Enjoy,” he smiles,
leading Tucker and Reid away. Jace and Booker watch, nearly tempted
to follow at the promise of Mybyncian booze, but the duo resist at
the last moment.

“I’m not sure about Booker here,” Jace scans
the room, searching, “but uh… I’m going to do a sweep of the
perimeter.”

“Don’t hit on the mayans,” I say.

“What?” he feigns a gasp. “Me?”

“You heard Clarence.”

“I’m just getting a scope of the crowd.
Booker, want to come with?”

“Sure thing, Rogue Commander.”

“Just call me Jace, Booker.” Jace throws his
arm around Booker’s muscularly wide shoulders. “Let’s uh… go get a
handle on things.”

The two depart instantly, disappearing
through the crowd. Mae and Pratt turn to me.

“What now?” Pratt wants to know.

“I don’t know. Socializing, I guess.”

“With who?”

Before I can answer, someone taps my
shoulder. “Excuse me?”

He’s got bright jade hair, trimmed close to
his sage scalp and smirking orange eyes that wash over me. Built
similarly to Tucker and Reid—lean, but muscular—he sports the same
cobalt loin cloth which falls to his knees. Grinning broadly, his
eyes brush over me again and I have to fight the urge to cover
myself.

“You are Fallon, correct? Fallon of
Harrizel?”

“Yes…”

“I am Kendal—I work closely with Chancellor
Keller,” he explains, eyeing Pratt and Mae behind me. “He has asked
me to keep an eye on you—all of you—and get you anything you might
need.”

“Oh…” I glance at them before returning my
attention to Kendal. “That’s very—uh—nice.”

“It is my honor,” he bows deeply. “Please,
what can I do to make your stay more enjoyable?”

“Um…” I start, still thrown off by his
proximity. He’s close—
so
close—his exposed chest barely
brushing against mine. It’s making me uncomfortable and Mae must
pick up on it because she steps forward, drawing the attention on
herself.

“What work do you do with the
chancellor?”

“We keep the queen’s affairs in order. Well,
he
mostly does,” Kendal laughs, “I simply assist where I
can. And right now,” his eyes flicker over me again, “I am more
than willing to oblige.”

Two other miyons appear, both of the same
staggering stature and strength. They lock arms with Pratt and Mae,
who seem as surprised at their arrival as I am.

“This is Gring and Lolin,” he explains. “They
will escort you around the hall and answer any questions you may
have. May I?” Kendal offers me his arm.

Hesitant to take it, I assume we’ll all tour
together but the second he links elbows with me, Mae and Pratt are
immediately led away, leaving me with alone with Kendal.

“Where did they go?”

“It is best to separate,” he directs us
towards the outer wall, “better advantage to know each other one on
one, do you not agree?”

“Oh, I don’t know…” I skim the crowd, trying
to locate Mae and Pratt, “you’re bound to make more friends in a
larger group.”

“This is true,” he nods, “but I have enough
friends. Beautiful females on the other hand…” he tugs me closer,
pressing his side fully into mine.

Where is Reid? Or Sampson? Hell—I’ll even
take Werzo at this point. The rest of them are in here somewhere,
getting drunk off the Hunnis or scouting for barely-dressed mayans.
But they need to be here or, more importantly, watching over Mae
and Pratt. I shouldn’t have let them be taken away. Something’s not
right.

“I’m sure Chancellor Keller would be proud
you’re taking such good care of us. Should we pop over and say
hello?”