BOOK TWO
CHAPTER THIRTEEN
Two Years Later
Jon-Jon waited in the throne room. The search party had returned with a prisoner. The smile on the Captain’s face made Jon-Jon uneasy. Seeing the royals approach, Jon-Jon picked up his horn and played the fanfare. Everyone kneeled as the Queen and King entered.
“How did you fare?” the Queen asked.
“We located one deep in the forest,” the Captain replied. “Most died in the raid, but one survived.”
“Bring forth the prisoner.”
Two guards maneuvered a bloodied girl to face Her Majesty.
“What is your name?” the Queen asked.
The girl would not open her mouth.
“Just your first name?”
The girl stayed silent.
The Queen rolled her eyes, saying, “You’re going to make me force even that out of you?”
The girl screwed her lips together.
“Very well,” the Queen sighed, and touched the diamond which sat between her breasts embedded in a cage of silver that encircled her shoulders and torso connecting to a chain mail back, a clever design crafted by the court blacksmith and permanently welded to the Queen’s body - a diabolical fashion if ever there was, perfect for that ‘malevolent monarch’ look. Jon-Jon wondered how she got dressed every day. The Star glowed.
“Sophie. My first name is Sophie,” the girl vomited unwillingly.
“And how long have you been part of my son’s little group, Sophie?”
“Six months.”
“Tell me, in all that time, did you ever see my son? Be forthcoming.”
“Yes,” Sophie said, and hated herself for being unable to resist. “After your special guard murdered my family and burned my home, it was your son who brought me to the safe house and he who magically disguised it.”
“He’s using magic now, is he? Not very good magic, considering you were found. Do you really feel loyalty to a band of traitors that failed to keep you safe?”
“I feel loyalty to anyone whose mind is still free.”
“I predict you will soon feel differently,” the Queen remarked as the light from the North Star grew. The two stood stock still as the court stood by, accustomed to this turn of events after a raid. Murmured conversation filled the hall. After a couple seconds, the Queen shook her head, a furious expression came over her face, and she breathed as if she’d just run a mile. The girl fell to the ground, senseless. “Execute her,” the Queen commanded as she stormed out of the room, the Captain right behind her. Jon-Jon strolled over to the King.
“Time to go,” he said gently, extending his hand. Nico looked at him with the same idiotic smile he had plastered to his face most of the time, and got up compliantly. Frequent treatments with the North Star had all but lobotomized the man. Were he not the King, he would have been locked up with the other sleepwalkers. They strolled to Nico’s bedchamber, sat him in the chair looking out the window, gave him a puzzle book and shut the door. Jon-Jon decided to visit the dungeon, a place nobody else in the castle went if they didn’t have to, but nobody else in the castle had a mother down there.
After the incident at Holder’s Deep, the Queen’s relationship to her new toy was tumultuous. The slightest provocation, the tiniest loss of temper on her part, and the thing lit up like a lantern. To understand it better, the Queen brought peasant after peasant into the castle in order to practice and document the effects. She discovered she had two distinct abilities: one, the power to make multiple people do something physical like “jump” or “sleep”, the effects of which were temporary, and two, the power to alter a single person’s mind deeply and irrevocably. When developing her skill with the latter, she found that too much manipulation induced dementia, and put one person after another into the state. They converted the dungeon into a holding area for those child-like creatures forever lost to the diamond. When his mother ended up there, Jon-Jon started working with the underground rebellion—traitors, as they preferred to be called. His role as court trumpet player made him a near invisible presence in the palace, able to collect a great amount of information for their lost Prince. The Queen eventually learned how to work the Star with vicious precision, one second in her presence and a person became her devoted slave. She traveled the countryside creating a loyal army, but she never found a way to repair those she’d injured…not that she tried too hard on that score. Knowing her, she believed herself a saint for not killing each and every one.
Jon-Jon went over to his mother’s cell and waved. She waved back, but she only knew him as the nice man who visited her, so she went back to playing with her cell mate’s hair. Jon-Jon decided to walk around and visit the others, travelling deep down into the bowels of the castle. A pleasant sort of song echoed off the walls down there—a soft, babbling chorus created by the moronic murmurs of the inmates. Jon-Jon imagined a great symphony accompanying it, when he heard two coherent voices approaching. He threw himself into an open cell and imitated a dimwit as they passed.
“She tried to use the North Star against me,” the Queen fumed. “I hate it when they do that. They’re training them, they must be; teaching them how the Star works. Taking them one hideout at a time isn’t enough. We need to hit them where it hurts. You say he’s ready?”
“The doctor says he’s no longer in danger of dying,” the Captain told her. “Practically a miracle considering how long he had been wandering in those caves.”
“But when can he fly?”
“If he keeps eating like he has been, one more week, maybe two.”
“Before the--?”
“Yes.”
Jon-Jon carefully peaked his head around the corner. The diamond glowed as the Queen spoke to whomever occupied the cell in front of her.
“Hello there gorgeous,” she cooed. “You are looking so much better. You’re going to help me get my son back. And I’m going to help you get the girl who did this to you. Would you like that? Yes, of course you would. Rest now.” Jon-Jon hid again as the Queen and Captain left.
Curious to see who merited an audience from the Queen, he went over to the cell she had visited. Lying there was an emaciated green dragon, asleep on a pillow covered floor. Jon-Jon, so amazed by this sight, didn’t even feel the blow to his head.
“How did you fare?” the Queen asked.
“We located one deep in the forest,” the Captain replied. “Most died in the raid, but one survived.”
“Bring forth the prisoner.”
Two guards maneuvered a bloodied girl to face Her Majesty.
“What is your name?” the Queen asked.
The girl would not open her mouth.
“Just your first name?”
The girl stayed silent.
The Queen rolled her eyes, saying, “You’re going to make me force even that out of you?”
The girl screwed her lips together.
“Very well,” the Queen sighed, and touched the diamond which sat between her breasts embedded in a cage of silver that encircled her shoulders and torso connecting to a chain mail back, a clever design crafted by the court blacksmith and permanently welded to the Queen’s body - a diabolical fashion if ever there was, perfect for that ‘malevolent monarch’ look. Jon-Jon wondered how she got dressed every day. The Star glowed.
“Sophie. My first name is Sophie,” the girl vomited unwillingly.
“And how long have you been part of my son’s little group, Sophie?”
“Six months.”
“Tell me, in all that time, did you ever see my son? Be forthcoming.”
“Yes,” Sophie said, and hated herself for being unable to resist. “After your special guard murdered my family and burned my home, it was your son who brought me to the safe house and he who magically disguised it.”
“He’s using magic now, is he? Not very good magic, considering you were found. Do you really feel loyalty to a band of traitors that failed to keep you safe?”
“I feel loyalty to anyone whose mind is still free.”
“I predict you will soon feel differently,” the Queen remarked as the light from the North Star grew. The two stood stock still as the court stood by, accustomed to this turn of events after a raid. Murmured conversation filled the hall. After a couple seconds, the Queen shook her head, a furious expression came over her face, and she breathed as if she’d just run a mile. The girl fell to the ground, senseless. “Execute her,” the Queen commanded as she stormed out of the room, the Captain right behind her. Jon-Jon strolled over to the King.
“Time to go,” he said gently, extending his hand. Nico looked at him with the same idiotic smile he had plastered to his face most of the time, and got up compliantly. Frequent treatments with the North Star had all but lobotomized the man. Were he not the King, he would have been locked up with the other sleepwalkers. They strolled to Nico’s bedchamber, sat him in the chair looking out the window, gave him a puzzle book and shut the door. Jon-Jon decided to visit the dungeon, a place nobody else in the castle went if they didn’t have to, but nobody else in the castle had a mother down there.
After the incident at Holder’s Deep, the Queen’s relationship to her new toy was tumultuous. The slightest provocation, the tiniest loss of temper on her part, and the thing lit up like a lantern. To understand it better, the Queen brought peasant after peasant into the castle in order to practice and document the effects. She discovered she had two distinct abilities: one, the power to make multiple people do something physical like “jump” or “sleep”, the effects of which were temporary, and two, the power to alter a single person’s mind deeply and irrevocably. When developing her skill with the latter, she found that too much manipulation induced dementia, and put one person after another into the state. They converted the dungeon into a holding area for those child-like creatures forever lost to the diamond. When his mother ended up there, Jon-Jon started working with the underground rebellion—traitors, as they preferred to be called. His role as court trumpet player made him a near invisible presence in the palace, able to collect a great amount of information for their lost Prince. The Queen eventually learned how to work the Star with vicious precision, one second in her presence and a person became her devoted slave. She traveled the countryside creating a loyal army, but she never found a way to repair those she’d injured…not that she tried too hard on that score. Knowing her, she believed herself a saint for not killing each and every one.
Jon-Jon went over to his mother’s cell and waved. She waved back, but she only knew him as the nice man who visited her, so she went back to playing with her cell mate’s hair. Jon-Jon decided to walk around and visit the others, travelling deep down into the bowels of the castle. A pleasant sort of song echoed off the walls down there—a soft, babbling chorus created by the moronic murmurs of the inmates. Jon-Jon imagined a great symphony accompanying it, when he heard two coherent voices approaching. He threw himself into an open cell and imitated a dimwit as they passed.
“She tried to use the North Star against me,” the Queen fumed. “I hate it when they do that. They’re training them, they must be; teaching them how the Star works. Taking them one hideout at a time isn’t enough. We need to hit them where it hurts. You say he’s ready?”
“The doctor says he’s no longer in danger of dying,” the Captain told her. “Practically a miracle considering how long he had been wandering in those caves.”
“But when can he fly?”
“If he keeps eating like he has been, one more week, maybe two.”
“Before the--?”
“Yes.”
Jon-Jon carefully peaked his head around the corner. The diamond glowed as the Queen spoke to whomever occupied the cell in front of her.
“Hello there gorgeous,” she cooed. “You are looking so much better. You’re going to help me get my son back. And I’m going to help you get the girl who did this to you. Would you like that? Yes, of course you would. Rest now.” Jon-Jon hid again as the Queen and Captain left.
Curious to see who merited an audience from the Queen, he went over to the cell she had visited. Lying there was an emaciated green dragon, asleep on a pillow covered floor. Jon-Jon, so amazed by this sight, didn’t even feel the blow to his head.
The Myth of Atropos’ Twins
Once upon a time, when humankind was still in its infancy, a boy was born. On his third day of life, the Three Fates visited him to determine his destiny. Clothos spun her thread, Lachesis measured it and Atropos, instead of cutting it, hid the spool in her pocket uncut, for when she gazed into the boy’s face she knew she could not do anything to hurt him. Throughout his life, Atropos kept an eye on her little experiment. He lived out his measured days, but when he reached their end and did not die, his soul had no choice but to continue back down the thread the way it had come up. The old man turned once again into a young man, then a child and then a baby only to grow once more into a child, then a young man, then an old man, and back again. Over and over this occurred, giving the man many strange lifetimes, and even though he lived so long, he never grew tired of it as other men may have done. Instead, he lived fearlessly and well, growing rich in both money and family. One day, when in the very middle of his repeating life, a gnarled, old woman came to his door claiming to be Atropos, the Fate, the one responsible for his longevity. She told him how she had watched him through his many lives and loved him with all her heart. Disgusted, the man rejected her and barred her from his home. Heartbroken and furious, she pulled out her abhorred shears, cut his thread in the middle, and he fell dead on the spot! Grief stricken, Atropos swore she would never again allow herself to love, she tore out both of her eyes, tied them in her beloved’s thread, and threw them in the River Lethe on her way home to Hades. Out of the water emerged two children, a boy and a girl, who wandered into the Elysian Fields to play.
The Prince looked around the raided house for anything the soldiers might have missed. They had destroyed the place with zeal, and dappled every wall and surface with blood. He found one vial of athessia, the drug they used to train rebels in lucid dreaming to prepare them for an encounter with the Queen and her diamond. The Prince went outside - a flower had grown on the front door. He picked it and looked through the petals till he found one that said, she’s back. The Prince stood in front of the house and cast another secrecy spell over the premises. The house blended into the forest…mostly. His magic was improving at any rate. He still had nothing on Flori, but in her absence he would have to do. He ran through the Forest of El and met up with Cicero.
“You’re getting quite good with your messages,” the Prince said as Cicero lifted him up onto his back. “A full sentence, even an apostrophe!”
“You should see my portrait work,” the dragon said as they took off towards the Valley of the Dragons.
“They got Sophie and her group,” the Prince reported sadly.
“Damn. We still haven’t heard from our man in the castle. We fear the worst. It’s lucky she got back today.”
“It’s lucky she got back at all. How is she?”
“She’s good. Really good. Better than I’ve ever seen her.”
“After all that? How?”
“You’ll see. She brought two children with her from the Underworld. Twins. The Twins of Atropos she called them. Creepy pair of kids.”
“Can’t wait to meet them,” said the Prince as they flew higher.
“You’re getting quite good with your messages,” the Prince said as Cicero lifted him up onto his back. “A full sentence, even an apostrophe!”
“You should see my portrait work,” the dragon said as they took off towards the Valley of the Dragons.
“They got Sophie and her group,” the Prince reported sadly.
“Damn. We still haven’t heard from our man in the castle. We fear the worst. It’s lucky she got back today.”
“It’s lucky she got back at all. How is she?”
“She’s good. Really good. Better than I’ve ever seen her.”
“After all that? How?”
“You’ll see. She brought two children with her from the Underworld. Twins. The Twins of Atropos she called them. Creepy pair of kids.”
“Can’t wait to meet them,” said the Prince as they flew higher.
Fly on to Chapter Fourteen...