BUY HERE
Imagine a civilization with a caste system that is shackled by an oppressive government and trapped by geological barriers, where the only means of escape is to join an underground community, to follow the cryptic guidance of an advanced race that lives on the far side of a perilous sea, which is veiled by a mantle of fog. Whispering Mist is the tale of Rayna, an ironically rebellious young woman, and Nyle, her treasonous yet honorable lover, and their quest for political and personal liberation. Supported by multiple subplots and comic relief, the central narrative is set between the intertwined worlds of Valaycia and Yugatania, which are ruled ambiguously by the alchemistic Vudaki, a godlike race of semi-benevolent beings who swim beneath and fly above the Sea of Smoke. As an epic fantasy, Whispering Mist employs a unique vocabulary to describe atypical creatures that populate an original world with two moons of different colors. If you seek an author who writes concisely with precision, Marley Kin will satisfy. If you seek an unconventional story, Whispering Mist will mystify.
Chapter 2
THE
CHALLENGER
As
she plodded along with Evak at her side, kicking sand with her bare
feet, Rayna was still furious over her grandfather’s imprisonment.
After debating whether to file a formal grievance with the
government, she had settled for venting anger on her father for not
doing this himself, broadening the schism between them, which would
exasperate her mother for days to come.
“My
grandmother only has three years left before they put her away,”
Evak offered.
The
sea’s perpetual curtain of mist was joined by a fluctuating fog
that teased Rayna with fleeting pockets of visibility. “That
doesn’t seem to bother you too much.” She was a little annoyed
with his nonchalant attitude.
Evak
cocked his head and shrugged one shoulder. “It’s more political
for me.”
“Having
your grandmother locked away in a prison is not
personal?”
He
flashed her a grave look. “Yeah, sure it is, but it won’t help to
get too upset about it.”
A
piece of driftwood emerged from the fog to trip them but it failed.
Rayna felt powerless, as she snatched a seashell from the sand and
hurled it at the indifferent Sea of Smoke. Her eyes followed the
shell, until it landed near a short man, who stood in the tiny
breakers, oblivious to their presence. She grabbed Evak’s hand and
moved closer, sensing something different about the stranger. Was the
fog fooling her, or did the man have blue skin?! “Evak, did you see
the color of his skin?”
“Yeah
. . . It was blue.”
Still
clutching his hand, she took a few tentative steps, hoping to confirm
the impossible.
The fog cleared once again, and they stopped, only forty feet away,
transfixed, as the man pulled off his shirt to reveal an upper body
of blue flesh. Was the blue pigment theatrical make-up or some kind
of bizarre tattoo? Before Rayna could answer this question, the man
rushed forward, plunged into the water, and swam away with powerful
strokes that seemed inconsistent for a person of his size. Who was
this stranger, a liberator? Was he trying to reach Valaycia on his
own? She released Evak’s hand and ran into the water, soaking her
favorite green slacks to the knees.
They
watched him swim to the east beneath the sea’s smoky mantle. “Have
you ever seen anyone try to escape?”
Evak
shook his head, settling next to her. “Not me.” He stuffed his
hands into the deep pockets of his striped trousers. “But he won’t
make it very far.”
Rayna
wondered if the Vudaki would rise up to stop him like they did with
all the other renegades who tried to get away without proper guidance
from the Liberation Movement. But they never came, and the little
blue man disappeared
into the distant confluence of water and vapor.
She
gawked at her lover. “I thought for sure we’d see the Vudaki stop
him.”
Would
he reach that mysterious land, where Aunt Loreen and Cousin Valeena
waited for their loved-ones to join them? Rayna would never know,
until she reached Valaycia herself.
Dressed
in black, with perspiration dripping from his camouflaged face, and
sea-salt coating his throat, Governor Nyle Delakoat rowed a small,
metal-framed boat with all his strength, trying to keep up with the
tattered ship that sailed a quarter mile ahead. The sticky night air
seemed darker under the sea's thick blanket of vapor, which hung
thirty feet above the water, extending its misty folds at least three
times that distance into the sky. Wrinkling the sea’s smooth brow,
the renegade vessel was pulling away; nevertheless, he could easily
spy its progress with his leather-bound binoculars.
Nyle
had persevered through ten weeks of painstaking surveillance to
witness the fate of those who dared to trespass on the Vudaki’s wet
turf with the hope of reaching Valaycia without the secret aid of the
Liberation, and soon he would know, as long as the mythical
beings chose not to
attack him. As he pondered that unsettling possibility, the advantage
of it struck him: if the Vudaki did descend upon his tiny craft, he
would then gain an intimate glimpse into their tangled mystery.
Nyle
absorbed the sweat from his face with a tender sleeve, and considered
the soothing fact that most runaways did return to tell their tales,
and none of the horror stories frightened him; there were just as
many people who told a different story of mercy and majesty. He
summoned the visionary painting that haunted his parlor wall, wanting
so much to meet the legendary creatures that had saturated his
childhood imagination, which he now augmented with reverent awe for
the fathomless world that infused these secretive waters. Like so
many others, Nyle was familiar with the king and queen’s serpentine
anatomy, and how it differed from their offspring, who had walking
legs and wing-free arms, just like he did, and yet he longed for a
face-to-face encounter.
Grandmother
Turani was long dead, yet the sound of her contagious laughter was
just as lively as ever, reminding Nyle that his beloved ancestor was
one of the few who were utterly
fearless when it came
to the Vudaki; like other visionaries, she had always kept the faith
that their higher purpose would one day be revealed.
Nyle
could still see a few faithful lights on Jelico’s shore peeking
under the vaporous covers. Then, a man's bellowed warning snapped his
head forward to see the ship's main sail ablaze. He stared with
astonishment, as a second burst of fire ignited the smaller sail,
followed by a barrage of blazes erupting in the air around the ship,
evicting the darkness, causing him to shudder.
After
lifting the eyeglasses to his face with haste, Nyle watched a man
throw a spear and watched another leap from the bow into the dark
unknown. He searched for the Vudaki, certain he would capture a
complete picture for his mental gallery, but they remained shrouded
in the web of fog above the vessel, teasing him, only revealing an
occasional wing or a gust of fire.
Nyle
discarded his binoculars and scanned the area, hoping his naked eyes
might catch a broader glimpse. The Vudaki made no attempt to harm the
sailors. In protecting Valaycia, it seemed as though their only
objective was to destroy the ship's primary means of mobility, which
showed striking sophistication for a
race of creatures regarded by many as monsters.
It
struck Nyle that the escapees might need help, and when he probed the
danger of moving closer, intuition seized his ear, whispering that
the Vudaki no longer posed a threat: they had already deterred the
foolish visitors
that vandalized their home. The only risk was exposing his
conspicuous identity, so he grabbed the oars and rowed with new
strength, aided by the torrent of adrenaline gorging his bloodstream.
Rayna
stood in her family’s impeccably clean study, waiting for her
parents, peering through the outdoor twilight from the room’s only
window at her little brother, Basha, who played with two other
friendly lads from their neighborhood. As she watched the boys try to
catch lightning-bugs in a jar, her mild laughter was absentminded,
since she was preoccupied with her peculiar experience on the beach
earlier that day. Obsessed
with ambition, her
father, Gyan, only took one day off each week for leisure and family
time, and though this happened to be his weekly vacation day, it was
late in the evening, and Rayna’s store of patience was almost
depleted.
Hearing
footsteps, she released the blue lace curtain and prepared herself
for the imminent confrontation.
Although
her father had a sedentary lifestyle, he was a lean man. “What’s
so urgent?” Gyan demanded, entering the study with Celandra close
behind. He was still wearing his official gray uniform with its wide
black, vertical stripes. Her mother wore a long beige dress made of
silk. Like many of her dresses, it featured a row of round buttons,
made from dark brown sea-shells, that ran along the front of the
garment from top to bottom.
Never
one to mince words, Rayna faced them and said, “Evak and I saw an
odd stranger on the beach this morning. For a long time, we watched
him swim away to the east, but the Vudaki never came to stop him.”
“It’s
not the first time we’ve heard of such a thing, and I’m sure
those hideous
sea-monsters destroyed the man farther out where you couldn’t see
them. They’re very discrete with their activities, Rayna. You know
this.” Her father’s tone was adamant.
“That’s
what we’re told, but there was something else about this man that
was incredible.” Her parents waited for her explanation, and she
wondered if they would believe her. “We got a close look at this
man’s face, and he took his shirt off before he swam away. I can’t
really explain what we saw, but his skin was blue all over.”
Celandra
frowned. “Blue skin?”
Rayna
scrutinized her father’s expression for clues. He seemed disturbed
by her story as he looked away. “Father, I’ve never lied to you,
and Evak saw the same thing. Like a lot of other people, we’ve
heard the stories about visitors from the Distant Land with blue
skin.”
Gyan
was still diverting his gaze. “Those stories are myths and fables,
nothing more.”
“If
the stories are true, you would know about it, wouldn’t you,
Father?”
Gyan
looked at Rayna sternly. “Don’t ever speak of this to anyone.”
He left the room with haste, leaving Celandra with a dumbfounded look
on her face. After twenty years of life with her father, Rayna
always knew when he was hiding something. She looked at her mother
and shook her head. With a soft sigh, Celandra released the air she
held hostage. Contrary to Evak’s belief that the blue man must be
part of a new, bizarre religious cult, Rayna believed that he was
connected somehow to the Vudaki and Valaycia, and that he reached the
mysterious land
unharmed. One day, she would know the truth. Until then, she had to
contend with her parent’s refusal to seek that same truth.
Her
mother knocked on the window to get her younger brother’s
attention. “I don’t know what to say, Rayna.” She knocked on
the window again more sharply, as Rayna left the room.
His
tiny vessel drifting past the burning galleon, Nyle observed the crew
of survivors rowing their lifeboat back to Jelico. Now that their
covert escape was aborted, he hoped to get a closer look at the
Vudaki. Not wanting to get too close to ship, he shifted north, and
to his astonishment, there was still a man on the burning deck who
did his best to stop the flames from spreading. Crazy
fool.
Before
he could intervene, a horde of Vudaki outriders dropped below the
fog, flying in a circle at such a rapid speed he was unable to
distinguish their features. The draft from their maneuver was so
strong it stirred up a whirlpool, almost capsizing his bantam craft.
As they hovered closer to the ship, the air current fueled the blaze,
causing the mad sailor to shrink away.
“Get
off that ship, man! Are you insane?!–You'll burn to death!”
The
sailor heeded his warning and dove into the water in the direction of
Nyle’s boat.
After
hauling the soaked man into his tiny vessel with ease, he looked up,
but the outriders were gone. With tremendous power and an apparent
preference for mercy, they were magnificent
beings. Exhaling
deeply, he cast off the tension that tied up his gut. His dream of
seeing them up close, of looking one
‘rider in the eye for a brief moment,
would have to wait for another time. But how long?
“What
are you doing out here, friend, trying to escape like us?” asked
the dripping man. Despite the obvious setback, his husky tone was
almost cheerful. Maybe the man actually was crazy.
At
least the black face-paint was working so far. “Only a fool or a
desperate man would do such a thing, and I'm neither.”
The
man donned a coy expression. “Maybe I'm a little of both.”
Nyle
softened his tone. “Maybe I'm a police officer who just saved your
life.” He redirected the craft and started rowing back. With an
unpredictable passenger, returning undetected would be more
challenging, so he closed his eyes to explore the best strategy.
The
next morning, the leaders of Yugatania convened in the coastal city
of Abakon, the district capital of Bentara, where they usually vied
with the ambassador of Valaycia. Sovereign Varacus spent most of his
time there, ruling the land from his governor’s palace. The
castle’s foundational roots grew out of a seaside cliff, and like a
hearty tree chiseled from the lavender rock, the massive structure
had a vantage point high above the sea’s blanket of mist, but since
the fog climbed so high, Valaycia remained veiled in mystery, even to
those with telescopes to spy. Almost one-thousand-years-old, the
palace displayed more curves than angles, and more domes than spires.
Since
Nyle's adventure of the previous night was never sanctioned by his
colleagues, he would never tell them about it. Though the runaways
returned to Jelico safely, evading arrest, he decided against
incarcerating the escapees to protect his identity and settled for
reprimanding the man he saved. Disappointed by failing to get an
intimate look at the Vudaki, he was comforted to know, beyond
any doubt, that they
were not the murdering beasts his government had always claimed.
The
lean frame of Sovereign-Governor Adison Varacus marched into his
octagonal Strategy Chamber with protracted strides, his full-length,
purple cape billowing behind him like an unfurled flag screaming for
loyalty. Cropped to the scalp in the front, his straight, tawny hair
grazed his shoulders in the back. Nyle lagged behind, enjoying how
Governor Jaleena Korchek challenged her metabolism to keep pace with
the man who presided over their three states. As long as they agreed,
the three of them ruled the republic of Yugatania as a group; if
there was any dispute, Varacus had the power to veto the others. The
three leaders were responsible for administrating different
departments and appointing secretaries to manage them. As the
Governor of Kryton, Nyle regulated the departments of Labor, Law
Enforcement, Water and Sewage, and Athletics.
Under
a curved, maize ceiling with a skylight-apex, the ever-present
Guardian hunkered beside the Lord Sovereign’s gold leather chair,
her eyes probing anyone who dared to grip them.
Varacus
took the Guardian everywhere, since the wild animal was idolized as a
powerful talisman for those fortunate enough to win its mystifying
loyalty. According to local history, Varacus had a rare childhood: at
the age of sixteen, he left home to embark on a quest, and a year
later, he saved one of the coveted Lukanda from the unparalleled jaws
of a crimson cat.
With
dull teeth, twelve toes, four-fingered hands, and long thumbs,
Lukanda were primarily vegetarian, and, parading more colors than a
rainbow, their irresistible eyes had dilating pupils that bewitched
almost everyone. With surprising dexterity and grace, they usually
walked upright on their hind legs; however, they always bounded on
all four limbs when attacking an enemy with their deadly pointed
horns. According to popular legend, when someone gained its fidelity,
as Varacus had, a Lukanda would dedicate its life, as a debt of
gratitude, by serving as a bodyguard, which inspired the official
title of Guardian. Another legend, lesser known, claimed that the
Guardian’s master was also bestowed with special powers, which Nyle
had not yet discovered, and Varacus had not yet revealed.
As
Governor of Jelico, Varacus supervised the departments of Science,
Technology, Law, Higher Education, and Public Media, the last of
which was a special branch for dispensing information and propaganda.
Settled close to his Guardian, Varacus began the meeting by
declaring, “You suppressed the riots in Kryton effectively, Nyle,
but the milder demonstrations in Galamar could've been handled
better.”
Nyle
lingered near the open doors that led to a stone terrace. “We
deployed more deputies than usual, but the Rebellion is growing, and
they're well-organized.”
Governor
Jaleena Korchek did not hesitate to add that, “Three separate
protests were happening in Galamar simultaneously, and two of them
numbered in the thousands”
Nyle
tossed her a thin smile. Bedecked in a sheer, maroon cape that
covered a matching dress, she perched on the edge of the Sovereign's
desk, crossed her shapely legs, and cupped her exposed knee with
delicate hands. Arching her lower back, Jaleena’s voluptuous,
shapely figure was easy to trace as it pressed against the clinging
fibers. As the Governor of Galamar, she presided over the secretaries
of Agriculture, Transportation, Commerce, and Healthcare.
Ignoring
Jaleena, the Sovereign stroked his pruned, blond goatee. “We may
have to increase the prison-term for convicted rebels.”
Nyle
had predicted the Sovereign-Governor would take such a punitive
stance. “If we increase the sentence to two years for the first
offense, we better be prepared for a backlash.”
“I
prefer optimism, Governor,” said Varacus. “Rebellion is best
deterred by control.”
“I
have to agree with the Lord Sovereign,” Jaleena offered, glinting
at Nyle, as she crossed her arms.
Despite
her endorsement, Nyle tried to redirect their strategy with more
tact. “I appreciate that, but some rebels might be provoked.”
“Our
Valaycian enemies pose the real danger with these visitations and
their peaceful invasion,” said Varacus. “I want this network of
saboteurs exposed during my term as Sovereign.”
Nyle
gazed past the paltry terrace, beyond the billowy dunes, at the sea
with its thick canopy, a haze that hovered relentlessly above the
surface. Were the Vudaki their enemies, too? A wild howl aborted his
search for answers. With alarming speed and phenomenal agility, the
Guardian bounded past him and leaped onto the railing of the external
balcony, which rose to a treacherous height above the gnarled cliff.
Scanning the shore, Nyle spotted a Vudaki outrider gliding back into
its misty harbor, never making a sound, at least not a sound he could
hear.
Two
weeks had passed since Rayna’s birthday. With anticipation, she
leaned against the pleated bark of an old needlenut tree that nestled
near the pebbled edge of Phantom Lake. She inhaled deeply and noted
how moist and cool the air was for a late summer evening. As an
adolescent, she would subvert taboo by visiting this haunted haven,
only to be scared off by the swooping blackangels for swimming in the
lake’s dark red, forbidden water.
The
small body of water was more of a pond than a lake, and it swelled
less than one mile from Haggard Inlet, which marked the shift from
sandy beaches to the wooded, rocky cliffs that stretched to the
border separating Jelico's central district of Bentara from the
northern district of Orion where the lower class citizens shivered
much of the time. The lake slumbered in the heart of Scarlet Hills,
one of the most coveted towns in Bentara where most of the
upper-class drifted with relative amounts of complacence. Somewhat
ashamed of her elevated station, Rayna reflected on her grandmother
Kaluna and the middle-class who occupied Teragon, the state's sweaty
southern region.
Only
located in Bentara, twelve frog ponds were scattered along the 1,200
mile coast that twisted its way from north to south. Nurturing twelve
varieties of flying fogs, the eerie lochs were all less than two
miles from the Sea of Smoke. Phantom Lake was the first visitation
site established by the Valacyian guides, and the site of a fulfilled
prophecy centuries ago. Like the green-eyed blackangels, the slippery
frogs could only be found in these pockets of wet secrets that were
saturated with centuries of fact and fable.
A
spooky blackangel cooed from a secluded hollow in one of the gnarly
cranny-trees, giving Rayna a slight shudder. She stared at the tangle
of branches, spying only one luminescent, green eye, a fragmentary
shape that validated her belief that her people needed to talk about
the visitations more freely. After sliding along the trunk’s swirly
bark, she rested on the carpet of glittering red moss that warmed the
forest floor and its patchy web of roots. In the distance, the rich
tones of dusk seemed to be in a hurry to surrender the sky to the
replicating stars.
In
love with moonlight, Rayna gazed at the quarter moon that stared back
at her, while lazy tracts of clouds drifted through a maze of
shimmering beacons. The smaller, yellow moon was almost full. To her
eye, it wavered only two feet below its big, blue brother. Eager to
embrace the double full moon eclipse in four years, she tried to
imagine the glory of the last eclipse that her ancestors communed
with more than 300 years ago.
Her
mind wandered to the argument she had with her mother earlier. Ire
repossessed her body, so she paced the edge of the lake, barefooted,
trying to exorcize it. Her mother seemed more cowardly than her
father; at least he took a definite position and defended it. All her
mother wanted was artificial peace somewhere in the homeless middle.
But maybe that was
unfair. After all, she
could be searching for some kind of healthy balance.
Rayna
stopped to gaze at the blue moon, and the cool beams illuminated a
resolution: Though her mother deserved respect and patience, she
would have to face the
nasty truth. Before
her decision could settle, a thrashing wind erupted, followed by a
dazzling light, driving the blackangels from their hiding places;
then, turning fable to fact, a choir of frogs popped up from the
water to croak a shrill note that shook Rayna’s body with pleasure.
Overwhelmed by the mass of open mouths that dotted the surface of the
pond, her eyes darted in every direction. Was she dreaming?
“I,
too, look forward to the double lunar eclipse.”
Rayna’s
body wheeled to face her visitor, who seemed to appear from nowhere,
chasing the wind, the light, and the frogs away. “Where did you
come from? Were you reading my mind?”
Taloras
approached Rayna, stopping in front of her with little space between
them, her slanted eyes the same height as Rayna’s. She wore a
simple, crimson gown that brushed her feet. “Sometimes I get lucky
when our moons are closer together.” She reached out her hand. “I'm
Ambassador Taloras. This is the first of three visitations.” Her
handshake was strong yet relaxed.
“I’m
honored to meet you, Ambassador.” Taloras’s warm smile was framed
by long, braided tresses.
Rayna’s
mind was jumpy. “I hope you can answer all my questions.” She
would save her question about the conundrum of the frogs and the
lakes and the wizardry of the visitations for later.
The
ambassador’s deep voice bounced with the energy of a child but rang
with middle-aged maturity. “I'll do my best.”
“Our
government says your people can't be trusted because you're
secretive. They say you’re using us as slaves. Some even think you
make sacrifices of our people to the Vudaki.”
“What
do you believe?”
“If
you needed slaves, you could just herd a bunch of us onto a big boat
and take us away. And there's lots of stories about the Vudaki
sparing people who tried to escape without your help. My Uncle Keegan
believes in you, and so did my Aunt Loreen and Cousin Valeena.”
With
languid ease, she laced her fingers together. “I'm quite fond of
Loreen.” The ambassador's speech and manner had a soothing quality.
Rayna
traced the wavy texture of the lustrous moss that cushioned her bare
feet. “I miss them a lot.” She looked up with hope. “Are they
happy with your people?”
Taloras
nodded. “Yes. And beyond that, I'm not at liberty to talk about it.
If you choose the way of radical liberation, you can find that answer
for yourself.”
Rayna
absorbed the Ambassador’s explanation before posing her next
question. “If Sovereign Varacus hates you so much, why doesn't he
try harder to stop these visitations?”
“Because
of the technology we give your people. Because the frog ponds are
protected by a power beyond his control. Like most leaders before
him, he’s very shrewd. He knows if he suppresses the truth too
much, he'll lose more people, so he tolerates our visitations.”
Rayna
recalled that nineteen years ago upper-caste families of Jelico began
to prohibit their children from attending visitations, threatening to
shun them if they chose to be unorthodox. Like Rayna, some candidates
gambled with their family's affection; however, most of them
eventually rejected the Movement, because they were promised wealth
and fame, because the government seduced them with the possibility of
higher political status reserved for the Bentaran upper-class.
Rayna
glanced at the swarm of stars that winked from their august platform.
“I hear a lot of people never show up the night of their first
visitation.”
Taloras
nodded. “Almost two thirds of your people–mostly Bentarans–never
come because of fear or the prejudice they learn from your
government. And most of those who do come reject our path to freedom.
This also explains why Varacus allows us to visit your people.”
“Why
would anyone reject freedom?”
“Life
is easier here than it is in Galamar, even for the lower classes from
Orion and Teragon who can never have real political power, and it's
much easier than life in Kryton. It's no mistake that Jelico is the
only state that holds free elections.”
Rayna
shook her head. Oppression.
“Sometimes I hate living here.”
“Freedom
requires more than desire, and hatred will only slow you down.
Freedom calls for discipline, sacrifice, and courage.”
“I
have what it takes to achieve liberation, Ambassador.”
“In
that case, I can now give you the first of three gifts and three
rituals that will help you manifest the freedom you seek.”
With
an uncanny presence, the Guardian strode passed Nyle to resume her
place by the Sovereign’s side, and her magnetism drew him along to
face his fellow governors. Nyle continued to avoid the creature’s
disturbing gaze.
“I've
tolerated these demonstrations long enough,” said Varacus. “I'm
passing a new law to authorize a Grievance Council to reroute as much
protesting as possible.”
Governor
Korchek’s smile was agreeable, as she slipped into one of the ten
commodious, golden chairs, her reddish-blond locks bouncing as she
did so. “That way, we can regulate and re-direct most complaints in
our favor.” She often made elegant yet casual gestures with her
hands, and this was no exception. Even when she frowned, which was
rare, her face seemed to be as smooth as her polished fingernails.
Despite her affable way of communicating, she was smart, shrewd and
guarded.
Varacus
smiled faintly. “Precisely. And the sooner we implement the new
labor policy, the quicker it will be accepted. If we face more
rioting, it's better to stop it now and get it over with.”
Nyle
doubted that, yet he understood how unwise it would be to voice
another objection so soon, so he took a seat in one of the soft
leather chairs and explored the finer details of the carved landscape
that decorated the center of the chamber’s glass-covered table.
The
Sovereign flashed one of his confident smiles. “Every citizen of
Kryton will be employed by the Republic with a fixed income that
meets basic needs. If they refuse to work, they can beg for charity
or relocate to the Canyons to live off the land.”
“There's
not much game or vegetation out there to live on,” Nyle added.
His
tone was suddenly offensive. “Then they'll have to live
with the consequences.”
Sensing
her master’s anger, the Guardian aimed its breaching gaze at Nyle
who disguised his irritation by granting Varacus a slow nod of
consent and one more
small victory.
Varacus
continued with a less challenging edge. “With a smaller population
that's easier to please, Galamar will have an open market system with
only emergency government support.”
Jaleena’s
smoky blue eyes quickly became more serious, as she glanced in Nyle’s
direction, before saying, “That may not go over well with the poor.
They rely heavily on public assistance.”
The
Sovereign’s impatience seemed evident. “You never objected when I
first proposed this as a possiblity.”
“That’s
true, Governor,” she admitted, sliding a jeweled hand across the
glaring table. “But we could use more time to make a smoother
transition.”
The
tone of Adison’s voice fell by an octave. “I just gave you my
reasons for doing it sooner.”
Jaleena
shot Nyle another glimpse that looked like a plea for help.
Varacus
glanced at Nyle and then looked at Jaleena again. “This won't work
unless I have your full support.”
Nyle
saw wisdom in placating the Sovereign. “And you'll have it,
Governor.”
“From
both of us,” Jaleena added.
“Good.”
He accentuated his words by striding back and forth. “As far as
Jelico’s concerned, most jobs will operate in the open market, but
the more prestigious and lucrative positions will serve government
institutions, so the upper-class will be employed by the Republic.”
Nyle’s
eyes fell to the glossy, stone floor, disturbed by Varacus's mounting
arrogance and defensiveness. Knowing that Varacus’s wife was
traveling a lot more than usual, Nyle wondered if that was triggering
the switch in his colleague’s demeanor, or if he was just revealing
his true character now that he was the elected Sovereign. Of one
thing Nyle was sure: the Guardian’s magic was feeding Varacus’s
misguided righteousness, and most people were succumbing to his
persuasive mixture of charm and control.
Addressing
Nyle, Varacus spoke firmly. “Expand your police force in Jelico. I
demand to know how our enemies are helping these liberators to
escape. If we can't visit Valaycia, then no one can, and if I have to
put the total population of Bentara in prison to stop these escapes,
I will.”
“Eventually,
we’ll unravel their technology and
their mysterious powers,” said Nyle.
Jaleena
shifted in her chair to face Varacus squarely. “He's right. One day
soon we'll destroy the influence they have over our people.”
Varacus
managed to smile. “Now
we’re acting more like a team.”
Nyle
resisted the urge to laugh with ridicule. There
was no team. So soon
after their election, Nyle already felt an acute need to find a way
to readjust the scales of power and protect their precarious state of
equilibrium, before the current imbalance demanded a toll his people
that they could never afford.
“If
you desire freedom, then you need to follow my instructions closely.
Before I give you the first gift, there's one more thing we ask.”
Taloras hesitated. “Although everyone's three gifts are the same,
we ask candidates not to talk about them with anyone, except your
Liberation Guide and your fellow liberators. Some people have ignored
this request, which led to all sorts of misguided myths. All I can
say is that talking about the rituals dilutes their power.” Before
Rayna could ask why, the ambassador smiled broadly. “Your first
gift is a wonderful creature with two lives.” Taloras pulled a live
frog from her pocket and held it out. The frog stretched its spotted
wings and greeted Rayna with a soft croak.
She
shifted her gaze back and forth from Taloras to the frog. “A frog?
I don't understand.”
“Frogs
have a strong connection to our race, and like your people, we also
honor the frog as a totem animal with special powers. Treasure it as
a symbol of your future liberation.” Taloras handed the frog to
Rayna.
Not
too slimy. Rayna
stared at the small amphibian that pulsed with life in her hand.
“For
now, you must bond with the creature.”
Looking
at the ambassador, she raised an eyebrow.
“He
was born in this lake, but he matured in Valaycia. He heard your name
repeated a thousand times over the past few days. To complete this
ritual, you need to look into his eyes and gently stroke his throat,
as I say your name and stroke his back. Do you understand?”
“Yes.”
Rayna gazed into the frog's eyes and rubbed his throat while Taloras
performed her part of the ritual. The frog clearly croaked the sound
of Rayna’s name.
“It
said my name! I never knew frogs could talk. Is it some kind of magic
or a miracle?”
“It
is both those things and more. Unfortunately, after being influenced
by family and friends, most people deny this ever happened.”
Rayna
detected a trace of disappointment in the ambassador’s voice.
“Unless I lose my mind, I could never make that mistake.”
Taloras
chuckled. “Now place the frog into the lake.”
“You
mean I have to give up my first gift so soon?”
Taloras
laughed freely. “It's crucial that you place the frog in the
water.”
Confused,
Rayna placed the frog in the pond. When she stood up to face the
ambassador again, Taloras was holding a life-size carving of second
frog.
“This
wooden frog will act as a substitute. Your instructions are to visit
this lake as much as possible to watch how the frogs behave in and
out of the water. Use them as a source of inspiration. Then, once
each day at home, imagine the frogs’ behavior as you gaze at this
carving.” She handed the green frog to Rayna.
Rayna
knitted her brow. Silly
ritual. Maybe this was
why the Liberation was so unpopular.
“This
exercise will anchor the frog’s image firmly in your mind. The more
often you perform the rituals we give you, the sooner you'll be ready
to enter Valaycia.”
“There's
so many frogs in this lake—How can I know which one's mine?”
Taloras
gently touched her arm. “Your frog will always know who you are.”
Rayna
looked at her totem. “They don't look that smart.”
A
faint ripple of laughter ruffled Taloras’s face. “And when you're
ready to leave, your frog will be the one to let you know.”
“I
don't understand. How's all this possible? How does this prepare me
to escape?”
“Just
return here as often as you can to listen to the frogs as they sing
at night or watch them play during the daylight hours.”
Her
anxiety deepened. “But I have so many questions.”
“Be
courageous, be patient, and have faith.” To underscore her reply,
Taloras twisted her head and bowed slightly. “Come to this spot
again at twilight in two days, and Chancellor Melodius will give you
your second gift.” She placed a hand on Rayna’s shoulder. “I'll
continue to visit you from time to time. Until then, trust our
guidance and take good care.”
The
wind and light exploded again, causing Rayna to cover her face. When
she lowered her arms, Taloras was gone.
“Come
again.” Rayna stared into the dark forest with longing,
disappointed that she still harbored lonely questions. Her parents
were waiting at home; maybe they had some answers. If not, she knew
Uncle Keegan would.
As
if responding to her quandary, a frog leaped out of the wet darkness
to land on the shore several feet away. Her heart pounding faster,
Rayna drew a deep breath, and her sinuses soaked up the smell of
aqua-life dancing around her. As she exhaled, a surge of passion shot
up her spine to place a beaming grin on her face. Freedom
echoed in her mind. Was it possible?
With
a sharp croak, the frog hopped along the slim beach, disappearing
into the night.
No comments:
Post a Comment