
The Two Moons of Rehnor

Book 1

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The Boy who Lit up the Sky

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by

J. Naomi Ay

Published by Ayzenberg, Inc.

Copyright 2012 - 2017 Ayzenberg, Inc.

All Rights Reserved

051017

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Cover Design by elementi-studio.com

# Table of Contents

Copyright Page

Also by

Chapter 1 | Meri

Chapter 2 | Taner

Chapter 3 | Rucia

Chapter 4 | Taner

Chapter 5 | Meri

Chapter 6 | Moira

Chapter 7 | Sorkan

Chapter 8 | Taner

Chapter 9 | Berkan

Chapter 10 | Taner

Chapter 11 | Mariya

Chapter 12 | Taner

Chapter 13 | Tuman

Chapter 14 | Tuman

Chapter 15 | Berkan

Chapter 16 | Tuman

Chapter 17 | Katie

Chapter 18 | Mariya

Chapter 19 | Katie

Chapter 20 | Meri

A Preview of Book 2 | My Enemy's Son

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# Also by

J. Naomi Ay

The Two Moons of Rehnor Series

The Boy who Lit up the Sky, Book 1

My Enemy's Son, Book 2

Of Blood and Angels, Book 3

Firestone Rings, Book 4

The Days of the Golden Moons, Book 5

Golden's Quest, Book 6

Metamorphosis, Book 7

The Choice, Book 8

Treasure Hunt, Book 9

Space Chase, Book 10

Imperial Masquerade, Book 11

Rivalry, Book 12

Thirteen, Book 13

Betrayal, Book 14

Fairy Tales, Book 15

Gone for a Spin, Book 16

Firesetter Series

A Thread of Time, Book 1

Amyr's Command, Book 2

Three Kings, Book 3

Exceeding Expectations, Book 4

A Cosmic Dance, Book 5

Strange Things, Book 6

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# Chapter 1

# Meri

"What have you got there?" I asked Sister Moon.

"A pot of gold," she cackled holding up a little purse and shaking it. It jingled with heavy coins.

"No," I said reaching for the baby in her arms. "Who is this?"

"A Karut."

She easily relinquished him to me. I peeled back the blanket and looked at the little face.

"Aren't you pretty?" I stroked the soft cheek. "You're sure he's a Karut? He's so pale."

"Maybe he's a half-breed," she replied, already counting the coins. "So many good Mishnese girls giving themselves to Karut men after poor Lydia was forced to do it. I suspect we'll be getting a lot more just like him."

"Maybe," I agreed, stroking the baby's tuff of silky black hair. "He's sweet all the same. Does he have a name?"

"Senya."

"Senya," I repeated.

"Now don't you go taking special heart to this little rat." Sister Moon scolded me as she tossed the coins back in the purse. "The same will happen to him as the rest of them."

"Maybe he'll get adopted by a nice family," I said wistfully. "Look what long eyelashes he has."

"Nobody will want a Karut," she snorted. "He'll be here with the rest of the nasties until he runs off and gets himself killed on the street. Get yourself back to work now. Put the baby in the baby room and go check the one year olds' buckets."

"Yes Ma'am." The baby put his little fist in his mouth. "Can I give him a bottle first? He's hungry."

Sister Moon shrugged. "Be quick about it."

"Thank you, Ma'am."

I curtseyed and hurried the baby to the baby room where I could get a bottle out of the warmer and sit for a moment before I had to dump all the potty buckets.

Twice daily I had to circle through the one year olds' room here in the Old Mishnah Orphan Home where twenty babies sat naked in chairs, eating, sleeping and pooping at will. I spent about two minutes with each of them, wiping them hopefully before they broke out in rash, putting ointment on their rashes and hugging them all for just a moment before I must put them back down and move on to the next. By the time they graduated on to the two year old room, they were allowed to wear pants and shirts, sleep on cots and eat at small tables. If they messed their pants for whatever reason, they were sent back to the one year old room for a day which was such a punishment that rarely would they mess again.

The baby room was my favorite place though. It was quiet and warm in there, and I could sit in a rocker and cuddle as many little bundles as I had time for. The older ones stood in their cribs and waved to me as I came in. Some babbled out a few nonsense sounds and some smiled showing me two or four tiny teeth.

"Hello babies," I called to them.

"Hello Meri," Sister Lena called back. She was in a rocker with one of the few little girls we had. Most of our children were boys. I didn't know why they were abandoned more often than girls. Girls could be put to work, I supposed. Certainly our girls, unless they were rescued before age seven or eight, would be put to work earning their keep.

"Who have you got there?" Lena asked.

"A new one," I replied, grabbing a bottle and settling down next to her. "This is Senya."

"A Karut," she gasped with surprise. The baby she was holding stopped sucking and looked at her for a moment.

"Yes, but he's pretty isn't he," I said, offering him the bottle. He sucked it greedily and patted it with his hand.

"I wonder why the Karuts didn't take him." Lena peered at him through her bottle thick glasses.

"Sister Moon thinks his mum was Mishnese. Was your mum Mishnese, Senya?" I teased.

The baby smiled with the nipple still in his mouth.

"He says yes." I laughed as he sucked fiercely once again.

"He is beautiful," Lena agreed. "What color are his eyes?"

"I don't know. Open your eyes, baby. Let me see your pretty eyes."

The baby opened his eyes as if he understood me, and Blessed Saint, I nearly dropped him. His eyes were silver, like swirly specks of silver light.

"Blessed Saint," Lena cried upsetting her baby who howled in protest.

Senya closed his eyes again as if he knew this is what caused us fright. He finished his bottle and sucked air until I wrestled the bottle from his mouth and held him against my shoulder.

"He is possessed." Lena calmed her baby and then quickly put her back in a crib. "Do you think this is why the Karuts didn't want him?"

"He's not possessed," I insisted, burping my little friend. "He's sweet."

He patted my face with his hand while looking out across my back.

Lena eyed me warily. "It is strange though."

"It is," I agreed. "But they are kind of beautiful too." Surely, if he was possessed, we would know that somehow. I might have to ask the Father about that, but I hated speaking with the Father. He always wanted favors, and his breath was bad, and his old skin was wrinkled and made my own skin crawl.

I changed Senya and put him in one of our shirts. I was about to put socks on his little feet when I was stopped short.

"Lena, can you come here?"

She approached with narrow eyes. I held up a little foot. Senya reached for it too.

"Look at his nails," I said. "Why are they like this?"

Gingerly, Lena touched them. She visibly shivered. Senya played with his toes. He put one in his mouth and sucked on the long curled nail.

"We should dispose of him," Lena said.

"Dispose?"

"Throw him out in the gutter before ...before..."

"Before what? You mean to kill him?"

"No, no." She walked away. "Maybe send him to the Karuts. I have a bad feeling about him."

"Will you tell the Father?"

Lena turned and looked into my eyes. She nodded slowly.

"Don't hurt this baby," I begged. "Let me take care of him."

"I have a very bad feeling about him," she repeated, and her wimple nearly fell off as she shook her head. "Something is wrong about him."

"I promise, Sister. Please let me care for him. If he turns out to be bad, then I'll help you get rid of him. Don't turn him out now and don't tell the Father."

"What will you do for me if I agree?" She asked, lifting her head haughtily.

"What do you want?"

"All the diapers," she said. "All of the time."

I looked down at Senya. He smiled at me, and when he opened his eyes they sparkled. "Okay," I agreed, falling in love with this strange little fellow. "I will do anything to save little Senya."

I was strange too. My back was crooked, and my face was scarred. I was ugly even though I wasn't always. Once I was a beautiful young girl who nice boys would ask to dance and nice girls would chat up. Once I went to school and got high marks in Mishnese and literature and fair marks in math and science. Then my step-father wanted me, and when I refused he pushed me down the stairs and broke my back. As I lay crumpled, he set my clothes on fire. The Saint saved me, and after I was healed, I came here to love other children who no one wanted anymore.

Senya loved me, I thought. He greeted me every day with a smile. He didn't speak. He didn't even make noise, but he stood in his crib and waved at me and his silver eyes sparkled. Everyone else he ignored. He sat in the corner of his crib sucking his fingers, or lay on his back and played with his strange toes.

The Father came to look at him. "How much was in the purse?" He asked Sister Moon. She told him, and we all gasped as it was such a large sum. It would feed everyone in this house for a year. "Will there be more?" The Father wondered aloud.

"I think so," Sister Moon replied. "For as long as we keep him."

"Then we will keep him until they want him back," the Father declared.

The next week, the Father had a new speeder. It was shiny and red with rich leather and polished wood inside. It looked very expensive. He wanted me to sit in it with him. He wanted me to pleasure him while he drove it around. I did because he was the Father and I was so ugly no other man would want me. If he threw me out on the street, I would have nowhere to go and be forced to pleasure other men who were worse than him. This is what he told me when his leavings were in my mouth, and I wished to spit them out on the fine carpet of his new speeder.

When I came back to the orphanage, I went to the baby room and found Senya crying. He sobbed silently, his little body heaving but making no sound. There was a red welt across his back. "Who did this?" I demanded of Sister Lena.

"Sister Moon," she said. "Sister Moon says he is destroying too many socks and wasting our precious cloth. She says he is to have cold feet all winter. He shall have no more socks."

"But why did she hit him?" I asked, picking him up and holding him tight until he stopped crying. He put his hand on my face and nuzzled my neck.

"He looked at her with his wicked eyes and she said she felt dizzy because of it and nearly fell down. He is possessed she says, but the Father says he must stay here so we cannot throw him out in the gutter."

I wondered if I could take Senya and run away. I would have to pleasure anyone who would give me money, and how many would want one as ugly as me? I would have liked a real job. Once I knew how to type and could speak well and answer a vid and perhaps put together things with my hands. There were no jobs like that anymore. There were no jobs for anyone because Mishnah was broke. There were only jobs for men who joined the guards and women who worked as maids in the Palace. I could not do that because I was a woman with a broken back and burned face.

It was a cold winter, and there was not much food. The money from the purse had been spent on the Father's new speeder and his fine clothes and jewelry. The children cried because they were hungry and cold, and the old radiators spat and hissed, but little warmth came from them. Senya's little feet were always cold, and when I was with him I wrapped them in rags, but someone else always took them off. Senya sat in his crib and held the bottle himself. He was getting big, and his face was taking shape.

"He looks more and more like a Karut," Lena said beside me. "He looks like Prince Sorkan."

"He does," I agreed, admiring his handsome little face. "But pale."

"Maybe he'll get darker over time," Lena thought. "Did you give him this bottle? It's not time for him to eat." She took it away. Senya opened his mouth to protest.

"I didn't," I said. "He was already drinking it when I came here."

"Well I wonder how he got it then," Lena frowned and just as she did so, the bottle went flying out of her hand and back into Senya's.

Lena and I both screamed.

Senya popped the bottle back in his mouth and gave us a big smile.

"How did he do that?" Lena whispered, her eyes giant saucers.

"I don't know," I whispered back. "Do you think that's how he got the bottle from the warmer?"

We both looked at the warmer as if it could speak to us. Lena turned back and snatched the bottle out of Senya's grasp again. He opened his mouth in a silent howl. Lena ran across the room and put it on the warmer table.

"You want it, Senya?" she challenged. "Then take it."

Senya pulled himself up by the bars on his crib and held out his little hands. The bottle flew across the room right into them. He fell back on his bottom and sucked triumphantly.

"Don't say a word of this to anyone," I begged Lena.

"Blessed Saint," Lena collapsed in a chair. "What is he?"

"Please Lena, please! I'll do anything. Don't let them throw him out on the street!" I was on my knees before her.

"Okay," she said, narrowing her eyes and smiling wickedly. "Forever and ever you will be doing the diapers, Meri."

"I will, I will," I promised.

Senya laughed. It was the first noise we had heard from him. I ran to him and gathered him in my arms.

"You little devil," I cried, and he laughed some more.

"Mayhap, he really is," Lena snorted and walked away.

We lost four babies from the baby room including our one little girl. There was a fever going around, and the diapers were endless and messy. Our one year olds and two year olds were sick too, and I was forever dumping buckets filled with loose and foul smelling stools. Our two year olds were messing their pants, but we did not punish them because several of them had died, as well. Our building was cold, and the snow and frost outside made it impossible to open the windows and bring in fresh air. The children burned with fever and then shook with chills. I wrapped and rewrapped as many as I could, but there were not enough of us Sainted Ladies here to take care of them.

There was sickness in the city, and bodies lay in the gutters where ever you walked. Our dead children joined them waiting for the coroner's van to collect them.

Three times a day I checked on Senya and each time he stood and greeted me with a smile. He called me by name now and jumped up and down yelling 'Meri, Meri, Meri' when I came in. He didn't get sick like the other babies even though his feet were like ice every time I checked them.

The spring came, and Senya was moved to the one year old room. I did not think he was quite that old because he had only four tiny teeth. He could stand well on his own and feed himself with his hands and he was hungry and wanted more food than all the bottles in the warmer. I gave him a spoon, but he banged it on the table top and hit himself in the face with it. Though we had lost many from our nursery, many more were coming having lost their parents during the winter freeze. Our baby room was crowded, and we had to move out anyone who could manage in a chair for now.

Senya sat in the chair like the other one year olds. Most of them sat quietly or slept, laying their little heads down on their table tops sometimes right into their food. Senya didn't like it. By summer, he was climbing out as quickly as anyone could put him back in. Some of the other boys followed his example and in no time they were running about the room knocking over the buckets and creating a nasty mess. They were all punished soundly, and their poor little bottoms were red and swollen for days and days. Senya didn't learn though. He continued to climb out, and now Sister Flower locked him in the closet.

The closet was exactly that, two feet this way and two feet that with a small door at the bottom to crawl in and out.

"I have never used the closet for one so young," Sister Flower said as she carried the squirming Senya. "But this one is beyond any other punishment." She opened the door and shoved him through, swatting his bottom soundly. "Don't mess in there," she called. "Or you shall have to sit in it for many days." The door slammed shut, and she locked it with the key.

I cried myself to sleep that night worrying about my poor baby locked in that tiny dark space. As frigid as the winter was the summer burned with heat and in that tiny closet, he could be roasted alive.

The next day, Flower opened the door and pulled him out. He glared at her with his silver eyes and then held out his fat little arms to me.

"You are too kind to him," Flower spat at me. "He is a horrid little Karut that should be thrown out on the street."

"Come baby," I said and fetched him a glass of water because he was too old now for a bottle though I would dearly have loved to sit with him on my lap; his head against my breast, watching him suck the bottle and pat my face as he did so.

Senya returned to his chair but still he did not like it and climbed out again and again. The boys watched him but did not follow. Senya was returned to the closet again and again throughout the summer.

One day in the last month of summer, a man called upon us. Sister Moon sent for me.

"This fine gentleman is here to see Senya," Sister Moon said, and I saw in her hand was another purse.

"Do you mean to adopt him?" I asked meekly for this gentleman was dressed in fine clothes and looked very wealthy. He was big with white blonde hair and very pale skin. I wished for Senya to be adopted by such a fine man, but my heart would be broken too.

"It is none of your business, Sister," Moon snapped at me. "Go fetch the brat."

Senya was in the closet, and so I had to first convince Flower to release him. I ran back and forth to Flower and Moon before the door was opened and then Senya crawled out. He was sweaty and covered in dust for the closet was never cleaned. I feared the fine gentleman would be distressed to see him in such a condition, so I quickly took him and bathed him. I dressed him in the clothes of a two year old, little pants and a shirt for he was certainly big enough and I was certain the gentleman did not wish to see him dressed only in our one year old sheath. I brushed Senya's hair which was thick and wavy and shiny black like all Karuts. Then I took his hand, and we walked to the foyer where the fine gentleman sat waiting on a bench. He stood as we approached and looked down at the boy appraisingly. Then he squatted down on his haunches and held out his hand.

"Hello Senya," he said.

Senya clutched my hand tightly but opened his eyes and gazed with his silver light upon the man. The gentleman raised his eyebrows and glanced briefly at me before turning his eyes back upon the boy.

"Are you a good boy, lad?"

"Not at all," Sister Moon cackled. "He is a challenge to all of us."

Senya hid behind my skirt. He didn't like Sister Moon.

"Come now, Meri," Sister Moon scolded. "Make him stand before our lord sir."

I pushed Senya out from behind me and held him by the shoulders. The man touched the boy's cheek and ran his hand across the soft shiny hair. Then he nodded and rose.

"Thank you." He turned to leave, but Senya had let go of me and instead held his arms up for the man. "Ah, my son," the man said and picking up Senya, he hugged him tightly. There were tears in his eyes. "I can't take you with me now. You have to stay here."

"Are you his father?" I asked. Could it be his mother was the Karut?

"I must go," the gentleman replied, handing Senya back to me. The boy perched on my hip and held his hand up in a little wave. The gentleman didn't respond to my question.

As winter approached again, Senya was moved to the two year old room even though he had been with us slightly longer than a year and was probably only a few months older than one. He could toilet, dress, and feed himself with a spoon, so he did not need to sit in a chair or be tended to all day. My time was spent primarily with the infants and the ones, and so I did not see him often.

Senya still spent an inordinate amount of time in the closet. He never complained when going in but rather seemed to prefer not to come out. He did not speak except to call me by name. Sister Moon feared he was of small brain and would never speak or learn a productive trade. He was beautiful though and everyone who gazed upon him agreed. This was unfortunate for him. As soon as he was old enough, he would be put to work in a trade where his beauty and silence were the only requirements.

As for me, the Father traded my favors with his friends in exchange for money or possessions. During the food shortage of the winter, I was traded for two loaves of bread. He said of me that I was ugly, but was good with my hands and mouth and therefore, worth more than a few pennies. The money from the gentleman's summer purse was spent on more beautiful women, wines and chocolates and of course, a newer speeder.

The fine gentleman came every summer, and each time brought another purse. He stayed not more than a few moments, asking Senya of his health and whether or not he had been good. Senya did not speak and not since that first year did he wish to be held or hugged. He gazed warily with his brilliant eyes and nodded in response to the gentleman's questions.

Our adoption day took place in the spring. We bathed and dressed our children in clothes kept just for this day. Then we lined them up in their rooms, which were scrubbed clean and couples looking for a child came through. All the girls were adopted on this day and some of the boys. Senya was sent to the closet.

Year after year, I looked for him in each room and only when it was over, and all the new families had gone home did I find him. The Father didn't want him adopted, Sister Moon told me. That would mean the end of his rich purses.

When Senya was with us six years, he was taken to the school room. He did not speak for the sister there and so it was decided that indeed he was of small brain and could not learn. I was fearful now. There was only one place he would go and already I saw the Father smiling and asking of him.

The Father flush in new robes purchased with the coins from gentleman's latest purse called me to him one evening and bid me bring Senya. It was winter again, and there was snow on the ground, and the windows were covered in ice that seeped through and left puddles on the floors of the nursery.

I fetched Senya and holding his hand, walked with him through the back corridors to the Father's study. I had been here many times, and at this hour I knew it would come to no good.

I considered running away. I could steal a coat and some shoes for Senya for still he wore nothing on his poor ugly feet. We could run out into the snow and find shelter for the night and in the morning run far enough away from this place that we might come upon somewhere else to begin a new life.

Perhaps I could take him all the way across the continent and from there take a boat to Karupatani and bring him to those people who surely would recognize him as one of their own. I did nothing though. I led him toward the back rooms because I was weak of heart and soul. My own body ached from the chill in the air which seeped into the marrow of my bones. I had no strength to run. I was weak and complied.

"There he is," the Father said, opening the door of his great office. A fire burned in his hearth and instantly warmed my bones. There was brandy in cups upon a tray, and other foods, but I knew they were not for me. The Father gazed fondly at the boy as we entered and reached out to touch his beautiful black hair. Senya shirked away. The Father laughed.

"Let me teach you something, child," he said taking Senya's hand from my own and pulling him to the sofa. "You are too stupid to learn books. You are so dumb you cannot even speak. You are obviously of Karut blood and lower than a dog, and this is why your family pays me handsomely to hide their shame. You are beautiful, and because of that you may live, but there is naught you can do in this life save one thing. Meri and I will teach you how to do this and I will reward you. Isn't that right, Meri?"

"Yes milord," I replied even though my heart was trembling. Senya turned his silver gaze upon me and his brow furrowed.

"Come now," the Father said, pulling tightly to Senya's hand. "See what I have here." He opened his robes to reveal his great and ugly manhood and placed Senya's little hand upon it. "Meri, teach the boy what he must do." Senya tried to pull away, but the Father held him fast. "You have one of these too, little Senya." The Father reached for the boy's crotch. "Yours is still small, but if I stroke it the same as you stroke me, we can make it stand tall too."

Senya shook his head frantically and pushed himself away.

"Meri!" The Father ordered. "Make him obey, or I shall beat him."

"No!" I cried. "Please Senya. Do as the Father says." I had been beaten by the Father's belt, and the pain lasted for days. This would all be over in a few moments as the Father was aged and had not the stamina of a younger man. I grasped Senya and pushed him close into the Father's embrace. The Father shoved his hand into the boy's pants, and Senya shrieked like an animal.

"Ah, there it is, and a very nice one too," the Father said. "Come Meri; show him what you can do with mine." I knelt before him and took him in my mouth. "See child, this is what you must learn to do. You will be very popular if you can pleasure as well as Meri. Good Sister Meri."

Senya screeched again and lashed out with his hands. He scratched the Father's face leaving long, deep tracks that seeped with blood. The Father roared. He slapped the boy hard sending him flying across the room. He hit me too though I was only doing my best to pleasure him. I fell down against the floor. Senya scrambled to his feet, and though he was quick, the Father trapped him and pushed him down.

"So you don't like it that way, Karut?" The Father hissed, ripping the trousers off the child. "Maybe you'll like it better this way. Are you pretty like a girl?"

"No," I screamed. "No milord, please don't do that."

I threw myself upon the Father's back and pounded at him, but he shoved me away as I was weak and inconsequential. Senya cried and made horrible screeching noises, but I was powerless to help him. I closed my eyes and covered my ears, so I was not witness to this.

I called to the Saint, and his Blessed Being shone upon me and compelled me to open my eyes again. My eyes searched the room as if they no longer belonged to me for I could not control where they looked. They seized upon the hearth, the fire burning brightly and the poker which stood immediately to the side. I believed I could grab the poker. I could take it and hit the Father across his back. I could hit his head. I clambered to my feet, but I faltered because I was weak and the Father had fed me and kept me warm and safe all these years. I was ashamed of myself for my weakness. I fell again to my knees, and I wept and prayed to the Saint for strength.

As I wept, I saw the poker moving of its own accord, releasing itself from its holder and flying across the room. I saw it dive at the Father, pierce him and I heard him scream in agony as it became lodged in his body. His body collapsed, and blood poured from him.

Senya scrambled out from beneath the Father. The silver light shone from his eyes as bright as the fire and for a moment, the face I had cherished since first I held him was unknown to me. For a moment, I saw the devil himself reflected therein and then it was gone, and I saw only my Senya. He was bleeding.

"Go in the washroom there!" I said and pointed to the door. I knelt down beside the Father. His eyes were open and wept as he dribbled blood from between his lips.

"Help me, Meri," he pleaded. He could not move. He was impaled upon the fireplace poker which flew across the room as the bottles flew from the warmer years ago when Senya was an infant.

I realized now I had no choice. We had to run out into the snow and as far away as possible. I scrambled to the Father's closets, and looked for a cloak to wrap Senya, and something for me, as well.

When the boy emerged again from the washroom, I had found pins to hold his trousers together, a heavy fur lined cloak with a hood that hid his face and large fur lined boots that would not be destroyed by his claw like toenails. For myself, I had taken several blankets from the bed and three gold coins that lay upon the table there. I helped Senya with his boots and cloak and then taking his hand, I led him to the door at the rear of the chamber, though the Father with a weak and gasping breath cried for our help

"What are you doing?" I said when the boy loosened his grip from my hand. He hurried back toward the Father, his eyes ablaze with the wicked silver light.

"Help me child," the Father wept.

Senya stood above the Father, illuminating him with the light from his eyes. He held out his small fist and then opening his hand, he dropped something. The Father's body erupted in flames.

"Senya!" I screamed as the smell of burnt flesh overwhelmed the room.

The boy turned back to me and ran to my side. A moment later we were outside in the bitter cold, stepping upon drifts of snow that turned the night as light as day. There were no busses that ran in these hours so all we could do was walk, my own boots soaking through in short order and Senya tripping awkwardly in the garments far too large for his small body. We walked none the less and when the morning came, the snow still fell, but we were so far away that I felt safe enough to sit upon the steps of a building for a few moments to catch my breath.

"Do you think they will come after us?" I asked the boy.

"No," the boy responded and I was surprised as this was the first word that he had spoken. A man came up the steps just then and looked upon us with disdain. He spat in the snow.

"Are ye here to rent the room?" He said.

I was struck dumb. I looked helplessly at the man.

"Aye," Senya replied.

"Well come on then," the man said and together we followed him into the building. We went up three floors, and he opened a door to a small flat with a kitchen, a toilet and a sitting room. There was an old couch with tears and stuffing coming from it, a chair and small table in the kitchen, and a bathtub that was filthy and would need a good scrubbing.

"Have ye got some coins?" The man asked, and I held out my hand with the three coins. "Three months ye get fer these," he said. "Then I'll expect 'nother at the start of each month. Dun't be late, or I'll toss the both of ye out on the street."

"Thank you sir," I said. He looked at Senya for a moment and spat on my floor.

"Fucked a Karut, did ye? Spose that's all that would want a lass as ugly as ye." He shut the door behind him.

"We've got a flat," I gasped and collapsed on the sofa. "We're free, Senya!"

The boy walked the length of the small room holding out his hand.

"It's warm in here!" I cried joyously. Senya disappeared into the kitchen. "But we have nothing to eat and I have no more money." Senya returned and headed for the door.

"Where are you going?" I jumped up and smothered him in my arms. "Don't leave me."

"I'll get ye some food," he said in the Mishnese of the street.

I was shocked because he spoke and at the song of his voice. He pulled away from me and left me alone standing there. I watched him go from the window of my flat. His eyes were hard and narrow, thin slits of sliver light. His face was set with a frown, and I thought myself a cruel woman to send this poor child out into the street in search of food because I was too stupid to hold onto my coin.

I knew what I must do now to retrieve a coin and make more. It was what I was good at or so I had been told. I marched down the stair and to the flat where the name on the door said 'Manager'. I knocked, and the man opened it to see me standing there.

"What do ye want," he sneered as if he knew full and well.

"I need a coin to buy food," I said.

"Yer an ugly Karut lover," he replied but his door cracked open a few inches more.

"You won't be disappointed," I said. "If you are, you don't have to give me the coin."

He smiled, and his teeth were yellow, and several were missing. "Alright then," he agreed. "Deals a deal."

When Senya returned with his pockets full of coins, I had already set out fresh bread and soup. There was milk for him to drink, but I had not enough money for butter and eggs. He sat and drank the soup, and I asked where his coins came from.

"You didn't get them the same way I did?" I asked fearfully.

He shook his head and then showed me with his finger how he could make the coins lift from the table and dance and fly.

"You're magical Senya," I said. "The Saint has blessed you."

He shook his head again, and his eyes flickered.

"Tis a curse." He left me to go sleep in the bathtub wrapped in the Father's fur cloak.

I was pleased because I was warm and my belly was full and for the first time in my life, I had a home that was all my own and a child who was nearly my own to love and care for.

But, I was fearful too. Senya spoke and though his words were sparse it was clear he was not of small brain but one who has seen and heard far more than his years.

Senya lived with me for perhaps two years more sleeping in the bathtub wrapped in the fur cloak during the winter and on a blanket in the summer. He disappeared during the day or whenever I had a chester to service, and then he returned at odd hours during the night, sometimes with scratches and bruises, sometimes with blood on his hands.

Over time, his absences grew longer and longer until perhaps once a week or less, he returned to sleep in the bathtub. By the time the guardsman came looking for him, he did not stay with me at all. I saw him rarely, and that was only when I baked, and he would come looking for sweet treats or buns.

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# Chapter 2

# Taner

I WAS THE ONE WHO FOUND the boy. I walked the streets of Old Mishnah for two weeks asking everyone I passed if they knew of a Karut kid. I ate a lot of donuts, drank a lot of coffee, smoked a lot of cigs and sat on a lot of stoops.

Old Mishnah stunk in those days. A perpetual brownish-grey haze hung over our heads and trapped in the stench of the inner city. You couldn't find a tree and the only blades of grass that grew were the straggly weeds that poked up through the cracks in the pavement. The gutters were the worst though. All manner of foul matter swam in the gutters, and the stench stayed in your nostrils for days.

I was in the internal investigations unit of the Palace Guards. The entire three years of my career had consisted of investigating petty thefts among Palace employees. It was boring but good money and included room and board in the Palace which meant a decent flat and plenty of food. I was relatively happy. Then, one day, totally out of the blue, Captain Loman called me into his office and told me I needed to go down to Old Mishnah.

"Old Mishnah?" I repeated.

"Yeah," he said and gave me a pass to get issued a laser. "Old Mishnah."

"And my assignment there?" I asked, wondering if I needed a blade, as well.

"You're looking for a missing kid."

"A missing kid?"

"Yes, a missing kid," Loman reiterated.

"In Old Mishnah?"

"Is that not what I just said?" Loman snapped. "Are you not understanding me, Lt. Taner?"

"Sorry, sir. I understand. Who is the kid?" I wondered if I was being punished for something. My last review went well. My immediate supervisor seemed to like me. I shifted in my seat and wished I could have a smoke but figured it would be a bad idea to light up in the boss's office.

This was only the second time I'd been in this office. The first time was even less pleasant as I was getting reprimanded for daring to accuse Lord Phylyp of swiping a missing gold figurine that had been on display in the Palace's public museum. I didn't realize at the time that Lord Phylyp, being Prince Akan's significant other, was allowed to swipe whatever he wanted. That bit of indiscretion on my part resulted in getting docked a month's worth of pay packets and 200 hours of forced overtime.

Captain Loman rooted around in his desk for a candy bar and finding one, ripped it open and stuffed it into his mouth. His big jaws moved up and down as he chewed it and gazed out the window. I looked around the office and waited. Loman's office was enormous. He had a massive shiny wood desk, leather chairs and a huge vid suspended from the ceiling. The Captain was a big guy and he needed big things around him. His window opened out to the sea which today was calm and almost as clear blue as the sky.

"That's not important," he mumbled, finally answering my question. "Who the kid is."

"Pardon?"

"I'll tell you later," he said again, this time louder and without chocolate. "Just go find him."

"You got it, Captain," I replied with a mock salute. "So, it's not relevant that the Royal Guard is looking for a kid, something the city cops ought to be able to do, is it?"

"Nope," Loman sighed and opened a third candy bar. "Not relevant."

"Can you tell me anything about him?" I got out my tablet and prepared to jot down some notes. "Anything at all or should I just go find a random kid off the street?"

Loman glared at me. "Your file says you are a good detective, Lt. Taner. It also says you are a smart ass. If I were you, I'd concentrate on the good and smart part and minimize the ass part."

I smiled apologetically. "Sorry Captain."

"The kid you need to get was in the Old Mishnah Orphan Home but ran away when he was old enough to figure out that he could. That was about six years ago when he was a little more than six years old." Loman pulled up a map on his vid. I turned in my chair to study it. "The orphan home is here."

"And you think he is still in Old Mishnah?"

"One of the Sainted Ladies thought she saw him near the farmer's market here about a year ago." Loman pointed, "That's the most recent sighting."

"That's about four or five miles from the orphan home?"

"Six point two."

"A year ago?"

"Yep." Loman cleared his throat. "I need him here by the first of the month, but I'd like him here sooner if at all possible."

"That's eighteen days. Do I get any help?"

"You don't think you can handle a twelve year old by yourself, Lt Taner?"

"I have eighteen days," I repeated. "To find a kid that hasn't been sighted in a year in a city of five million including half a million homeless street people."

"I really want him here earlier if you can." Loman scrunched up his face and tapped his large fingers on his desk. "I'm thinking since the kid has lived on the streets for the last five years or so, he might have some issues. Yes, Taner, I really need him here sooner if at all possible."

"Issues?"

"Yeah, street kid issues, gangs, drugs, whoring, who knows? His Mishnese probably won't be very good, he certainly won't know the protocols, and we may need to thoroughly clean and disinfect him. I'll need some time for all that."

"Right," I nodded. Disinfect him? "What does he look like? Am I allowed to know?"

"He looks like a Karut," Loman sighed heavily as if this were a great shame which it probably was. He typed again, and an image of a boy appeared on the vid. "Here is a pic of him the summer before he ran off. He had just turned six. This was the last time I saw him." At first glance, the kid definitely looked like a Karut with long, wavy, black hair, but at second glance, I noted how pale his skin was. "He has a red birthmark on the top of his head running from his forehead going back. It looks like this."

The screen shifted to an image of a newborn infant's head with a blood red stain running across it beneath fine black hair.

"It kind of looks like a bird flying," I remarked.

"Yeah, sort of. Oh, and Taner, his eyes. You should be able to identify him just by his eyes. They're different."

"What does that mean?"

"They're silver. Not just silver colored but they give off a silver light."

"Beg pardon?" I stopped taking notes. "Did you just say the kid has silver eyes that give off light? Are you making this up, Captain? Is this some kind of test or is this a joke?"

Loman looked at me steadily. "No, Lt Taner," he enunciated. "This is neither a test nor a joke."

"Is he some kind of alien then?" I studied the kid. Kind of cute, not very happy, and vaguely familiar although I didn't know why he would be.

"No. He's not an alien. He just has very strange eyes, like a mutation or something."

"Ok," I replied. "In summary, I need to find a Karut kid with mutated eyes and a bird on his head. Is there anything else I should know?"

"He goes by the name Senya. That's all I can tell you right now."

"Do you know more that you are not telling me or is this all that you know?"

Loman looked out the window. He drummed his fingers on the desk some more. "I have told you enough to complete your assignment. Go get your gun and get started."

"The first, right?" I stood up and headed toward the door.

"Right," Loman called after me. "Taner, this could be good for you, you know. There was a reason I chose you for this assignment."

"What's that boss?" I turned around to face him. "You think I'd make a good baby sitter?"

"No," Loman rolled his eyes. "I think you would make a terrible babysitter. Get going."

So there I was on the street packing a piece and blade. It was my fourteenth day out there, and I had exactly four more days until the first of the month.

Over the last two weeks, I had covered about twenty square miles of the old city on foot and I was getting desperate. I had searched every filthy corner of every stinking alley of every trash filled block in Old Mishnah. I had met a few who said there was a Karut kid who lived around here, but no one was sure where, or at least they were not about to tell me. I guess even in my civs, and dragging on a cig, I looked too much like a copper and they weren't anxious to share. It might have been my haircut.

Dusk was falling. The drug pushers were already out in force. Someone a street over was screaming like they were being knifed. I debated whether to call it a night and head back to the Palace but then realized I was out of cigs so on a whim I stepped into a shop. A bell hanging from a rope around the cracked glass door announced my presence.

"Hey, Pops," I called to the skinny old guy behind the counter. He was sitting on a stool and smoking his own cig.

"Hey, Coppah," he replied and looked at me with rheumy eyes. "I ain't done nuttin." I thought this is what he said. Between his toothless gums and street Mishnese accent, I could barely understand him.

"I know, Pops," I sighed. "You're innocent. Where's the cigs?"

"Second shelf over," the old guy pointed. "Whatcha doing in this neighborhood, son?"

"How'd you know I was a cop?" I asked. "My haircut?"

"Nah. You smell like one," the old guy laughed and showed his empty tooth sockets.

"Clean, maybe? Like maybe I showered in the last ten years." I tossed the pack of cigs on his table. He rang it up, and I threw him the coins. "So," I said. "You ever see a Karut kid around here?"

The old guy snorted. "You taking him in?"

"Sure. You want me to?"

"Sticky fingers that little rat has."

I broke open the pack and took out a cig. I lit up and took a long drag. "So you do know him then?"

"Yep," the old grocer nodded.

"How old you think he is?"

"Dun't know. Young but not too young. Used to be younger. Was just a little guy when he first started showing up here."

"Sure," I said encouragingly. "Would you guess about twelve?"

"Yeah. Bout right."

"What does he look like?" I casually walked over to the window. It was dark outside. I fingered my piece with my free hand and sucked on my cig.

"Karut. Ugly."

"Black hair? Strange eyes? "

"Yep. Just like that cept he's white, a white Karut," the old guy laughed. "Looks like a Karut fucked a Lightie. Imagine that!"

"Kid got a name, Pops?"

"Ach, Copper, a course 'e do. Ye ought to know it too."

"Senya?"

"That be one of them, yeah."

I walked back over to the counter and threw a tenner at the old guy.

"Know where I can find Senya?"

"Nope." Pops pocketed the tenner. "But Meri might. She's been known to feed him. Fourth door down, third floor, t'other side of the street."

"Thanks, Pops." I ventured out into the street to find Senya, the sticky fingered Karut. The bell tinkled as the door shut behind me.

Four doors down, I hauled myself up to the third floor as rats scurried in the stairwell and something sticky grabbed at me from every step. The whole building smelled like a toxic combination of urine, mold, and something else which I didn't want to think about. There was no light in the hallway, so I used my torch, avoiding the corners and floorboards which were cluttered with filth and most likely vermin.

"What do you want?" A hesitant voice called from behind the only door on the floor. The wood was splintered with age and nearly all paint had flaked away.

"Meri?" I tried my best not to sound like a cop, but, as usual, failed at it.

"Go away, Copper," she replied without opening the door. Her Mishnese was surprisingly good.

"Meri," I tried again. "I'm looking for Senya. Do you know where he is?"

The door cracked open enough for one very over painted eye to peek out.

"You taking him in?" She said.

"I don't know," I replied. "Should I?" Now there were two over painted eyes on a face that looked like it was burnt and had serious scars. If it weren't for the scars, I would guess her to be no older than me. "You've seen him lately?"

She pondered for a moment and then glanced around the room behind her as if she remembered that he was hiding in a corner.

"No," she said and moved to slam the door.

I shoved my knee in between the door and the frame which caused the wood to splinter.

"When does he usually come by?"

She stared at me. I waved a tenner. She looked at it and bit her lip. Then she peered closely at me. "You're from the Palace," she stated. "You're not a street cop."

"That's right." I must have had a really good haircut.

"You're taking him there."

"Yes Ma'am."

"You'll take care of him? You won't let them hurt him?"

"Yes Ma'am," I said again.

"You'll protect him from, from..."

"From what, Ma'am?"

She looked away. "From them who hid him away in the first place!" She snapped and glared at me as if I was stupid, which come to think of it, maybe I was.

"Sure," I agreed. "I'll take care of him. I'll take really good care of him."

She stared at me again, probably judging my sincerity. I must have passed. She swallowed hard before speaking. "Mornings," she said. "He has a sweet tooth, so I bake on Friday. He usually comes then for a treat." She smiled her damaged face wistfully. She might have been pretty once.

I removed my hand and my knee from the door. I tried to give her the tenner and a coin, but she refused.

"I'll be back tomorrow," I said and nodded to her.

She nodded back, and there were tears in her eyes. Tomorrow was Friday.

At six AM on Friday, I was out on the stoop in front of Meri's building, taking a drag on my third cig of the day and watching the grey dawn begin to lighten. The moons had set and so had most of the drug pushers and gangs, so that I was sitting undisturbed.

I was trying to think of what I could say to this kid. Though it was only a dozen years since I was that age, I lived in suburbia in a house with a mother and father, a sister and dog. I went to school like a normal kid, ate three square meals and flew a skateboard when I was bored, nothing that a boy raising himself on the streets since the age of six could possibly relate to.

The sun rose higher in the sky and the streets around me started to wake up with speeders and people. It was so different here than New Mishnah where the people were dressed well and hurried from one meeting to the next, queuing in the coffee shop or grabbing a bite at a street bistro. The speeders were newer, and taxis were everywhere. You could see the sky there, and it was usually blue. It didn't smell bad either. Here, the few speeders and city busses were broken and vandalized, and the pedestrians were wearing ragged clothing, hung-over, and in no hurry to go to the jobs they didn't have. The nearest coffee shop was four blocks over, and there were bars along the windows and doors.

I had sat on the stoop for no less than four hours when I got up to stretch. The sun had risen in the sky, and the noise and stink of Old Mishnah was fully awake, as well. There was a half way decent baking smell coming from Meri's flat above me and it disguised the rancid scent of the street a little.

I had walked down the steps and out on to the sidewalk rubbing the knot in the back of my neck when I saw him. There, hidden in the shadows of the very stoop I had been sitting on, he was crouched. A mangy black mutt with enormous snarling teeth was beside him. I froze in place. The dog growled louder.

"Hey Senya," I called and held out my hands innocently.

The dog rose to his feet slowly, baring his teeth, slobber dripping down to the pavement. I must have looked really juicy. It had to have been my haircut.

Slowly, I reached into my pocket and grabbed a donut from the bag I had taken this morning. I had been seeing a girl who worked in the Palace bakery and she'd been remarkably good about leaving day old maple twists and a thermos of coffee on my kitchen counter every morning. In a small way, it made up for leaving her warm body asleep in my bed. Only in a very small way though.

I tossed a maple twist on the ground by the dog's feet.

"It's good, Senya," I said. "Meri says you like sweets. I've got some for you too." The dog was still snarling but fortunately was distracted by the confection in front of him. "I'm not going to hurt you, Senya." I continued in the best calming voice I could manage. "I want to talk to you." I couldn't see the boy's expression in the shadows, only the outline of his face and thin slits of silver light that shone from his eyes. Even the little bit that I could see was weird, and I wondered if Loman had lied to me after all and the kid actually was an alien who coincidentally looked like a Karut.

"Look," I said, slowly taking the whole bag of donuts out of my pocket. "These are for you." After tossing them forward, I stepped back only to land my foot into something the dog had left there earlier. "Shit!" Now, that was exactly what I had all over my shoe. Turning away for a moment, I tried to scrap the mess off and onto the curb. When I looked back, the boy was standing right next to me holding the bag of donuts. I nearly jumped into the street again. "Shit, you're quiet!" Silver light flickered from beneath his long black eye lashes. I couldn't decide if that made him look sleepy or just downright creepy.

The boy reached into the bag and tossed another donut to the dog who instantly devoured it.

"My name is Taner," I said and offered my hand. "I need to talk to you."

The boy studied me, cocking his head slightly to the side but ignoring my hand. A bus roared past us just then and for a moment I felt a wave of heat and a thickness in my skull. At the time, I thought it was the exhaust from the bus.

Then, the boy stepped around me and proceeded up the steps of Meri's building. He sat down on the top stoop where I had been all morning, and ate the rest of the donuts as if he was starving. Judging by the sharp bones protruding from his frame, he probably was.

The dog followed, laying down at the boy's feet and snarling albeit half-heartedly as I came up the steps. I sat on the opposite side and took out a cig. Lighting up, I took a long drag and relished the masquerading effect of the tobacco smell. When I glanced again at the boy, he was holding out his hand.

"You want a cig? Here." I tossed him one and reached for my lighter but by the time I did so, the cig was already lit, and he was inhaling like a pro.

"So, Senya, like I said, my name is Taner," I took another long drag. Strangely, I felt nervous. "I am from the Internal Investigations unit of the Royal Guards."

The dog growled and bared his ugly teeth at me. I guess he was a remarkably perceptive dog.

"So, kid, you need to come with me. I'm supposed to take you back to the Palace."

The boy bolted down the steps with the dog at his heels and headed into the street, nearly getting himself leveled by a low flying speeder.

I was on my feet, and racing after him. He was fast and knew these streets better than I did. In no time, I was winded, and he was gone, dodging between parked and flying speeders and eventually disappearing into the shadows between buildings.

"At least he's alive," Loman said in his office later that afternoon. "I was afraid we might be too late. The Sainted Lady with the scarred face is taking care of him." Loman beat on his desk with a pen. He nodded to the tune he was drumming out while he thought.

"She didn't look like a Sainted Lady," I replied.

"She was. The House Father was murdered with a fire poker, then his body was set on fire and in the meantime, she and the boy disappeared."

"Did she do it?" I would have liked a good murder investigation, especially with the suspect right there. It'd be more interesting than chasing this boy around Old Mishnah.

"The House Sisters said she couldn't possibly have done it. She was afraid of her own shadow. But, she loved the boy like a mother, so if the Father was abusing him, perhaps. Taner," Loman said steadily. "That is not your case. Your case is to bring in the boy."

"So the House Father was abusing this kid and the kind, ugly Sainted Lady took a poker to him and then she and the kid ran off together so that she could work the streets and he could what?"

Loman sighed heavily as if I was annoying him.

"Why do you want the boy?" I asked again.

"You're the detective," Loman grumbled, peeling a candy bar. "You figure it out. Just get the kid here on time."

Saturday, I spent the entire day on the bloody stoop. No boy, no dog, but plenty of drug pushers and whores.

Sunday, I overslept and didn't bother reporting for duty until well in the afternoon. I waited on the stoop awhile, but there was no sign of the boy, so I decided to walk around.

Using the stoop as the midpoint, I began a radial search of the neighborhood. Sundays were a bad day in Old Mishnah. Less people survived Saturday night than any other night of the week, and unfortunately, I had to step over quite a few who didn't make it and had yet to be visited by the city coroner's impound truck.

Those that lay in pools of blood were either stabbed or shot. Those that were dry were probably overdoses or alcoholic binges. I glanced at them all just to make certain they weren't a twelve year old Karut boy.

It started to rain. Actually it started to pour, and within a matter of minutes I was completely soaked. I had less than 24 hours to find this boy and bring him in, and I was exhausted, my speeder was parked several miles away, and I was chilled to the bone in wet clothes.

I sat down on a bench in a bus shelter intending to rest for a minute while the downpour continued, but I must have fallen asleep. I don't know how long I was out but when I awoke it was pitch black, and a fat, stinking, teenage street kid was sitting on my chest while two others were going through my pockets.

I tried to yell, but the kid clamped his hand down on my throat and nearly choked me. Flipping over as best as I could, I managed to shove the fat kid off of me and reach for my gun, which at the moment was digging a hole in my butt. I scrambled like a crab backward until I hit the wall of the shelter and then drew my gun on the kids. Much to my surprise, all three of those dudes pulled guns on me.

"Hey, you don't have to shoot me," I said, waving my gun in the air. "I'll give you my wallet." Reaching back into my pocket again, I pulled it out. "Here, here." I tossed it on the pavement at the fat kid's feet. "It's all yours."

The fat kid said something about how he was going to slit my throat and put a bullet in my head just for the fun of it while the others were flipping through my wallet pulling out the rest of my tenners. I was thinking that I was done for and what a lousy way to end my less than illustrious career and life, out on some wild goose chase for Loman for no apparent reason.

"Fuck, it's the dog!" One of the kids yelled and two of them tore out of the bus shelter leaving a bunch of my tenners and my wallet behind.

In the meantime, that huge mangy black mutt bolted in and grabbing the fat kid by the arm, he snarled as if he was ready and willing to rip it right off. The fat kid started screaming his lungs out, dropping his gun and doing everything he could to pull the dog off of him. I hustled to my feet and aimed my gun just in time to see Senya wrap his arm around the fat kid's neck. The dog backed off, growled at me and then lifted his leg on my wallet and money.

Senya was nearly as tall as the older kid but less than half his weight, yet the fat kid went limp in his arms. Something glinted in the dim light of the shelter, and I realized Senya had a blade. "Where's me coins, Smirt?" Senya hissed.

"I ain't got it Karut," the fat kid replied. "I tol you las week, I ain't got it. I'll get it next week. I promise."

"You said tha las week," Senya said, and Smirt began to tremble as a bead of blood trickled down from his neck. "What'd I tell you las week, Smirt?"

"I dun know."

"Yes, you do. Remember Smirt? I said, you will die this week."

"I know Senya but..." Smirt knees were shaking and began to buckle.

"Senya!" I yelled, surprised as my own voice echoed across the bus shelter. "Don't kill him."

The silver light turned on my face and in the reflection I could see that already Smirt had a long bleeding gash between his ear and throat.

"Don't kill him," I ordered and waved my gun. "Let the kid go."

Senya narrowed his eyes at me but thankfully, backed away from Smirt.

"Thanks, Coppah," Smirt cried and bolted away with my wallet.

Now it was just the two of us and the dog who was watching me warily while chewing on something in the corner of the shelter. The rain was beating on the roof, and my heart was pounding in my chest as I stared at Senya and realized who he was. Like a lightning bolt, it hit me.

"Holy Blessed Saint!" I whistled through my teeth. "You're supposed to be dead!" Senya turned and started to leave, but I raced after and caught his arm. "No," I yelled. "No, you can't go. You have to come with me."

"Fuck ye, Coppah," he hissed, and before I could react, he knocked me on my knees, his arm went around my neck, and the blade was at my throat. "Ye git the fuck away from 'ere," he whispered in my ear. "Or I be slicing yer neck, eh?"

"I can't, Senya," I pleaded. "I've got take you in. You've got to come with me. You don't realize..."

"I ain't goin' nowhere," he said and the blade pricked my neck.

"Please kid. You don't understand. It's not what you think!"

Suddenly the shelter lit up as speeders surrounded us. Senya released his hold on my neck, and I scrambled to my feet, reaching for him again as he disappeared into the darkness, the dog chasing after him.

"Taner?" Loman called over to me.

"He went that way," I screamed, trying to keep an eye on the boy through the darkness and pouring rain. "Give me your torch," I yelled, since mine was long gone.

Loman tossed it to me, and I ran as far as my legs would carry me and then I walked, waving my torch back and forth, illuminating every dark corner of every dank alley.

It was four in the morning according to my watch, and the sun was rising. It stopped raining hours ago, but I was soaked to the bone. A speeder pulled up in front of me, and the door opened.

"Tell me someone else found him," I said as I collapsed next to Loman.

Loman shook his head. "We found another street kid, a big guy, with your wallet."

"Yeah? Did he know where Senya went?"

"He wasn't talking. He was dead. Hit by a bus a few hours ago."

"Ah, shit." I closed my exhausted eyes.

"We've got to get this boy, Taner," Loman said. "The King...it's the kid's birthday today. The king wants him here for his birthday."

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry. "You guys left him on the street for twelve years, and now you're going to throw him a birthday party?"

"It wasn't supposed to be like that, Taner," Loman snapped, rubbing his temples. "The House Father, the Sister, they all complicated things and then they disappeared on us. My ass, hell, my head is on the line, Taner. The King doesn't know about him being on the streets. He thinks..."

"He thinks what?"

"He thinks the kid was being raised by a nice Mishnese family in the suburbs somewhere. He thinks the kid has Lydia's grey eyes and sweet disposition and will be perfectly pleased to come home today. He doesn't know about any of this." Loman waved his hand. "I was hoping you'd get the kid in a week ago so I could work with him, at least talk to him, explain to him what happened and maybe teach him some manners or something."

I glanced over at Loman. He looked ill, kind of like a heart attack waiting to happen. "The King's not really going to fire you over this?"

"He was my responsibility. I was supposed to keep tabs on him. I was supposed to keep him safe. I'm dead, Taner."

"I don't know," I mumbled. "I've got a sick feeling about this kid. Maybe we shouldn't get him. Maybe we should let him go and tell the king he died or something."

Loman didn't respond, just stared at the ceiling of the speeder.

"I mean," I continued. "This kid nearly killed me tonight. He had a knife at my throat. The dead kid with my wallet, Senya told him he was going to die. Maybe the bus hit him after Senya pushed him under it. We can't let someone like that...You know what I mean, Boss? He could be a danger to everyone. He's probably on the street drugs and who knows what diseases and stuff he's picked up from whatever he does out here. He's not a normal twelve year old from the suburbs. Maybe we should just walk away now while we can."

"It's not our decision, Taner," Loman replied.

"But the king doesn't know what this kid is like," I argued. "What kind of twelve year old is capable of murdering two people in one night?"

"The kind of twelve year old who killed a House Father with a poker and then set the body on fire when he was six," Loman snapped. "This kid is no saint, Taner, and you're right, he's probably very dangerous, but we have no choice. I have a kid his age too and if I don't bring this one in, my kid isn't going to have a father any longer."

I stared out the dark window for a while. If this kid was bad, our whole future could be ruined. Everybody, the whole planet, could be destroyed.

"What if he is really evil, Loman?" I asked quietly. "What if he really is the Infidel reborn? What if instead of stopping the wars, he's going to start bigger ones?"

"He's not. I know he's not."

"How do you know?"

"I just know. I just know," Loman whispered.

"And if you're wrong?"

"Let's just find him, bring him in, do what we can with him and if he's bad, if I'm wrong, I'll kill him myself."

"Okay," I agreed. "Alright."

"So let's find him," Loman nodded as we stared outside at the sunrise.

"Right," I said and we continued to sit.

"There's no way in hell we're going to find him," Loman sighed.

"Unless he wants to be found," I added.

"Should have put a fucking tracking chip in him," Loman mumbled as his cell rang. It was his wife.

"Uh huh. Uh huh." Loman started the speeder, and we tore off into the morning sky.

"Where are we going?" I asked.

"To my house," Loman smiled. "He decided he wanted to be found."

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# Chapter 3

# Rucia

IT WAS FOUR IN THE morning. It had been raining all night, and Loman had been gone for most of it. I hadn't slept. As much as I detested his snoring, I needed the noise to help me sleep. It drowned out all the other sounds and lulled me.

Loman was never gone at night. Being Captain of the Palace Guards, his days of walking beats and patrolling were long over. He had the top position and reported directly to the Lord Chamberlain and sometimes even spoke with the king himself.

I enjoyed Loman's position. It paid exceptionally well, and we got invited periodically to events and parties at the Palace. Though I had never met the King and Queen or even Prince Akan, I had mingled with their cousins and the lesser nobility. I liked to tell all the salesgirls about that when I went shopping for new dresses to wear to a Palace party.

My sisters were jealous of me too. When I first met Loman he was very handsome. He was tall and big and his hair back then was very blonde. He was so fair skinned that people often thought he was a Lightie from the Northern Continent.

I thought he was too at first, and I wouldn't talk to him, but then a girlfriend heard through someone else that he was high up in the guard ranks and worth considering. I let him take me out after that, and I liked him well enough. He seemed to like me too, well enough, but I could tell that someone else was on his mind. When he kissed me, and later when he loved me, he seemed far away as if he wasn't really loving me but someone else. I never asked who, but I figured it out. She was dead by then, and we had our own son, so it didn't matter any way.

I heard Berkie's footsteps outside my bedroom door and then heading down the stairs.

"Berkie?" I called as I jumped from my bed and grabbed my robe. What could possess that child at this time of night to go downstairs?

By the time I caught up with him, hurrying down and nearly slipping on the stairs myself, Berkie had opened the front door and gone out into the yard.

"What in the name of the Saint are you doing?" I called after him. The sun was just beginning to rise, and the grass and walkway were soaked and puddled with rain. "Berkie, get in here," I snapped as I followed him outside. There in the grass sat a big black dog most likely making a mess of it.

"He needs to come in," Berkie said.

"No way," I replied. "There is no way that monster is coming in this house. Where in the heavens did he come from?"

"Old Mishnah," Berkie said. "He needs a bath and a brush to his hair and some food too. He says he's hungry."

"The dog told you that? Berkie, you're nearly twelve now. You're too old for that kind of foolishness. Now come back in."

"Not the dog, Mama," Berkie cried as I yanked on his arm. "Senya."

"Senya?" I gasped. "Where?"

Berkie pointed at the large maple tree overhanging the street. In the dim light of dawn, I could see the outline of a boy perched on a limb high up.

"I'm going to call your father," I cried running back into the house.

A short time later, Loman arrived with several of his men. Their speeders lit up our quiet street, and I could see the nasty old woman directly across from us lifting up her curtains to watch.

"Berkie what are you doing out here?" Loman demanded as Berkie was sitting on the front stoop in his pajamas, his basketball slippers sopping wet. At least it was summer and warm outside.

"Waiting for Senya to come out of the tree," Berkie replied.

"Senya!" Loman stormed down the walk. "Is he still outside?"

"Yes, Papa," Berkie said. "Mama doesn't want him to come in. He's sitting up in the big tree right there."

"I never said anything about him coming in!" I protested. "I haven't said a word. Berkie how can you say this?"

"Senya?" A young detective called from the bottom of the tree.

"What did you say to him, Rucia?" Loman hissed at me while watching the detective try to cajole the boy down.

"Nothing, I swear."

Loman didn't believe me. "Go inside and run a bath and when that's ready, get to the kitchen and make the child something to eat," he ordered.

In my fourteen years of marriage to Loman, there had been many trying times, and this most certainly was one of them. What did he think bringing that little Karut creature back to this house? The boy was filthy dirty, and stunk like he had been living in a cesspool. Besides that, he was evil. We all knew it then. I knew it now. He killed beautiful Princess Lydia.

I stormed upstairs, ran the bathtub full of near boiling water and then went into the kitchen and began throwing eggs onto the counter. One of them rolled off and splattered on the floor.

"Blessed Saint," I nearly screamed and bent down to clean it up. "Why our house? Why did he have to bring that horrid creature here?"

"Because," Loman said, shocking me out of my wits as he came up behind me. "No one at the Palace can see this boy until I clean him up." Loman sighed heavily and settled his bulk at the kitchen table. "Can you just be hospitable for a few hours? Let Berkan meet him. Perhaps they will become friends."

"And exactly why would I want my son to become friends with him?" I squared my shoulders and nearly brained my husband with the frying pan as I took it out of the cupboard. Secretly, I was relieved that the boy would not stay but a few hours. "You know damn well what's going to happen to him, as it should."

"Nothing is going to happen to him," Loman declared.

"Loman, have you been drinking at this hour?" I nearly laughed. "That boy shouldn't be alive. He should never have been allowed to grow as old as he is. He's a freak! An abomination!"

"Rucia," he snapped. "That is enough."

"If he lives, the rest of us are doomed!" I slammed the pan down on the stove and proceeded to break eggs into it. "He'll be the death of this planet unless someone kills him first."

"Shut up, Rucia!" Loman shouted, his deep voice echoing across my small kitchen. "He is here now upstairs in our bathtub!"

"No, he's not, Papa," Berkie said quietly from the kitchen door. "He's right here."

Loman and I turned to find Berkie and the boy standing in the doorway, wearing a much too short terry cloth bathrobe and a pair of Berkie's old pajamas.

The boy gazed at me with the strangest silver eyes, and my brain became fuzzy as if I were about to drift off to sleep. So help me, I dropped the entire pan of eggs upon the floor.

"Rucia!" Loman scolded and jostled me out of my slumber.

"Blessed Saint!" I cried, seeing what I had done. "Goodness me!" I knelt down and cleaned up the mess I had made.

"I'll help you, Mama," my little angel Berkie said and knelt down beside me.

"Make some more eggs," Loman ordered, but at this point I was fit to be tied. I had not slept all night, my kitchen was a mess, the Karut devil was watching me with his wicked eyes and Loman was sitting there as if he were king.

"No," I sobbed. "No, I will not. Take him away. If you don't, I will leave. So help me Loman, do not bring that creature to this house again or you will never see me again in this lifetime."

I stormed right past all of them and up the stairs into my room where I soundly slammed the door. I was at the moment perfectly willing to give up Loman's pay packet and all the beautiful gowns and Palace parties it would buy me.

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# Chapter 4

# Taner

"NO, YOU DON'T." I grabbed Senya by the shoulders as he tried to move past me and out the door. After Loman's wife's little tantrum, he decided it was time for him to leave, as well.

"Fuck off, Coppah," he snarled, twisting away from me and breaking into a run.

He bolted out the front of the house straight into the gun sights of Loman's guards. He pulled up short on the steps giving Loman just enough time to grasp him from behind and wrestle him to the ground.

"You are coming with us now, lad," Loman said and even this slippery little Karut could not get out from under Loman's three hundred pounds. "Cuff him," Loman ordered so I did both wrists and ankles and then Loman picked him up like a sack of potatoes, tossed the boy over his broad shoulders and carried him off to the limousine which arrived while we were inside.

"Come on Taner, Berkie," Loman called, throwing the boy in the back seat. "We've got work to do."

Berkie, still in pajamas, and I climbed into the limo. It was the first time I had been in one and this one, bearing the King's Royal Crest on the doors was especially grand. Berkie and I sat in the rear facing seats, I immediately across from Senya who was huddled in the corner, his hands locked behind his back and his eyes boring holes in my face.

"Senya's not happy," Berkie said, playing with the automatic window and when that got boring, the drink dispenser in the mini bar. "Can I have soda?"

"It's five in the morning, Berkie," Loman snapped. "Of course not!"

"Why did you go to Loman's house?" I asked Senya, staring back at his silver eyes as best as I could. They were hard to look at spilling light as they did. "Have you been there before?"

The boy didn't respond. He narrowed his eyes at me, so only a thin stream lit the distance between us. He looked as if he would like to take that knife to my throat again.

"Senya came looking for me," Berkie said, now playing with the vid console.

"Why?" I asked. "Have you ever met him before now?"

"Nope," Berkie replied, loading up some kind of shooting game. "But I'm his best friend." Berkie made shooting noises and destroyed a bunch of alien craft. I looked at Loman who stared at his son as if he had just landed on an alien craft.

"Do you know who Senya is?" Loman asked.

"Yep." Berkie nodded, quite preoccupied.

"Does Senya know who he is?" I asked, glancing from one boy to the next although neither appeared to be paying any attention to me. "Berkie?"

Berkie turned to me for a moment and nodded his head. As I watched him, his image began to fade away.

"Berkie?" I said again, but he was no longer there or rather, I was no longer here. In fact, what I was seeing was a flash of light, silver light and then I was in a room, a room that smelled foul with blood and was exceedingly hot. I was starting to see people now, faces and colors swirled around me.

"Loman, take it out of here." A baby was thrust into my arms. I felt the warm, dead weight of him. "Do something with him until this gets sorted out."

I was running. The baby was bouncing in my arms, but he did not cry. Rucia was here. Her body was large and swollen.

"What am I supposed to do with it?" She was screaming, thrusting the baby back at me. "I can't take him. We're having our own baby in case you've forgotten."

"Just for a few days, Rucia. Just until this gets sorted out. The Karuts will come get him if we don't hide him."

"Let them have him! Look at him, Loman. He looks just like them. What will the neighbors think? We'll be shunned by everyone. And what's wrong with him? Look at his eyes. No, Loman, I won't do it. I won't! I won't let the Infidel in my house. He'll kill my baby."

"Where's the boy?" It was the King's voice. I was on the floor in obeisance, and my knee was hurting, shooting pains up my leg.

"Lt. Farman took him. His wife said she will care for him." It was my voice that I heard speaking.

"I have heard he is strange."

"His eyes..."

"Yes, and I have heard that things move about him."

"Yes, Sir. I've heard that too."

"He has the Infidel's blood." This was Akan's voice. "Devil's spawn. I told you to kill it when you could, Father."

"It was not my decision to make, Akan." The king was leaving. I glanced up and watched his robes sweep away. A whisper of wind passed me as they did. Akan was next to me. His hot breath was in my ear.

"He has strange powers?"

"I don't know," I said, although I did.

"He is an infant of three months and can move things with his mind. What will he be able to do when he is grown?"

"I don't know."

"Shut up, Loman!" Akan said. "You stupid, Lightie! My father will not make the decision, but I will. Kill it. I order you to kill it." I looked in Akan's eyes. If I killed the baby, there would be no one to contest Akan's claim. "I order you Loman!" He screamed.

"Sir," I replied and bit my tongue.

Lt. Farman and I were in the streets of Old Mishnah. It was raining heavily. The skies were crying upon us, and I was soaked to the bone. I was holding the baby inside my slicker, and he was calmly watching me with those spooky silver eyes. In my head, I heard a woman's voice, Lydia's voice.

"Will you take care of my son, Loman?" She asked me. "Always? If something happens to me? Please?"

"Nothing will happen to you, sweet princess," I replied. "I am always watching over you."

"I think it's here," Farman was saying as we were walking down a dark alley.

There was a door on the left. There were windows overhead, and we could hear children's voices from them. The alley smelled like shit and vomit and rotted trash. Someone was screaming. The baby reached up with his small hand and touched my face. I should have taken him to Karupatani. I should have let him be among his father's people.

"Take care of him, Loman," Lydia said.

His hand was warm against my face. He had Lydia's hands, her long delicate fingers. His eyes were the same shape too even though the color was strange. He looked like Lydia to me. I memorized his face, his hands and the strange red birthmark on his skull, beneath the silky black hair. Farman was knocking on the door. A woman, a Sainted Lady in a wimple was answering.

"A Karupta?" She exclaimed. "Blessed Saint. Shouldn't he be with them?"

"Take him," I said and placed him in her arms. She sighed heavily as if the weight of him were too much to bear. Farman handed her the packet of gold coins.

"A princely sum," she cackled, shaking it, unaware of the irony of her words. "What is his name?"

"Sehron de..," Farman began, but I interrupted.

"Senya," I said. "His name is Senya."

On the way back to the speeder, I shot Farman in the back and left his body in the gutter. No one else but I would know where the baby was hidden.

"Taner?" Loman was shaking me. I had slumped forward in my seat. Berkie was clear to me again and busy blasting starships. Senya was across from me, his silver eyes shining in my face.

"You okay, Taner?" Loman prodded.

I wasn't sure. I stared at the kid across from me. How many people had already died because of this kid? The Princess, the House Father, Farman, the fat kid and who knew how many others? Maybe Prince Akan was right. Maybe this boy really was the Devil's spawn and the Infidel reborn.

Loman wouldn't kill him then, and he wouldn't kill him now. The boy would live and grow up with his evil powers and weird eyes and the wars would come back to Rehnor and then thousands maybe even millions would die.

I had to save everyone from this evil. This was why Loman chose me for this assignment. I leapt from my seat and grabbed the boy's neck with my hands, determined to break it, to choke his last breath from him.

"Taner!" Loman yanked my arm, but I held fast, feeling the kid go limp in my clutches. "Taner!"

Loman pulled on me, and I released the boy expecting him to slump lifeless to the floor but instead I was yanked down and thrust on to my back, the boy's legs straddling me like a vise. My neck burned as his knife slashed through it, the wrist and ankle cuffs long gone.

"Stop it!" Loman yelled, pulling the boy off of me.

I clutched my neck, my own blood running through my fingers. Berkie screamed. Senya slashed at Loman and then bolted towards the door, pushing it open while we were still airborne. He jumped out and ran, just as we were landing in the center courtyard of the Palace. The guardsmen awaiting our arrival gave chase and fortunately tackled him.

"What the hell got into you?" Loman demanded, clutching his bleeding arm. Berkie whimpered, staring at both of us with wide wet eyes, afraid to speak.

"My neck?" I said. "Is it bad?"

"No," Loman snapped. "Your stupid head is still on it. You'll live. Get the boy up to his room and wait there for me. Don't let him out and don't try anything else! Berkie, go with Taner."

"Where are you going, Papa?" Berkie cried.

"I'm just going to get some sealant on this," Loman said, pinching his skin. "Go on now."

I didn't move. My neck stung.

"Taner," Loman ordered sternly. "If he wanted to kill you, you'd be dead already. Now go!"

"Come on, Berkie," I said and taking his hand, we debarked the limo and ran across the courtyard to where a few of our guardsmen held a squirming Senya in their grasp. We had just reached them when Berkie pulled up short.

"Look," he cried and I looked up to see Prince Akan approaching with his retinue.

"Down, Berkie," I hissed and together we took a knee.

"Well, look who we have here," Akan said loudly, his voice was directed at his companion, Lord Phylyp. "The Karut is back."

"He is indeed!" Phylyp replied joyfully.

"And he's almost all grown up too," Akan mused. "Hold him steady there and let me see him." The largest guard, a fellow even bigger than Loman pulled Senya's arms above his head and hung him there for Akan. Akan and Phylyp laughed. "This is how you come to the Palace, Karut? Dressed in rags?" Akan snickered.

"He's very pretty though," Phylyp smiled. "Don't you think so, Ak? We could have some fun with him."

"Maybe," Akan sniffed, sizing the boy up and down.

"His pa was a pretty one too, wasn't he?" Phylyp said curling a tendril of hair around his finger. "Let's see what's underneath those rags."

"Strip him," Akan ordered and another guard tugged Berkie's old clothes off the dangling Senya.

"Oh, he is very nice," Phylyp cooed. "He is a pretty boy." Senya's face turned bright red whether from anger or embarrassment. "But Ak, look at his feet!" Phylyp cried. "He's got claws!"

"Blessed Saint," Akan gasped. "What evil has created this boy?"

"Oh, he's not evil, Akie," Phylyp said stepping closer. "He's luscious!" Phylyp reached out to touch the boy, but Senya would not have it. Even though he was hanging, suspended in the air by the guardsmen's grasp, Senya swung his foot up and raked those clawed toenails down the side of Phylyp's delicate face. Phylyp shrieked and grabbed at his cheek while the guard yanked Senya backward and then smashed him against the ground, pinning him with his enormous knee.

"What in the hell is going on here now?" Loman roared, coming across the courtyard. His arm was bound in a huge bandage, but he was waving it around like a flag. He raced over to us and snatched the boy out from under the guard.

"Akan? Phylyp?" Loman demanded as if he was the King. "What is the meaning of this?" Now he held Senya by the arm, suspending him in midair.

"Look what he has done, Captain Loman," Akan cried, pointing at five long tears in Phylyp's face.

"He is very sorry, Your Royal Highness," Loman growled. "Aren't you, lad?"

"Fuck you," Senya spat, twisting and struggling until Loman put his feet back on the ground.

"Wrong answer," Loman snapped and hauling the boy up about the waist, he carried him off.

"You'll be punished for this!" Akan called. "Let's get you to the infirmary, Phyl. They'll fix you right up." Berkie and I raced after Loman before anyone could tell us otherwise.

Loman hauled Senya towards the Big House and up to the third or topmost floor. I had never been in this building and was momentarily awed by the grand marble hallways alone before I even saw inside one of the doors. The doors weren't numbered. Loman clearly knew where to go and swung the heavy wood door open revealing a magnificent suite of rooms. There was a central sitting area, a huge bedroom with a king size ornate four poster bed, a bathroom with a bathtub the size of a swimming pool and a marble shower that could fit four people, an office, and wardrobes. Each room opened out to the sea with French doors on to a terrace that had steps down to the ocean.

"Wow!" Berkie exclaimed.

"Wow!" I agreed, stunned by the opulence.

"Sit down!" Loman barked and tossed Senya onto a leather sofa. The boy immediately leapt up and headed toward the window which was thankfully locked. He climbed into the window box, huddled there and glared at us with his strange, flashing eyes.

"Get him a robe, Taner," Loman barked again and so I found the door into the wardrobe and grabbed the first thing I saw that looked like a robe.

It was plush black velvet lined in gold silk and embroidered with gold thread. On the left breast, there was a royal crest. I studied it for a moment, fingering it and then glancing around, I realized that this crest was on everything in this room and nearly everything in this suite. In the center of the crest was striking eagle with talons bared and overlaid upon two crossed swords. Above the eagle written in Mishnese was the name of the prince and below the same was written in Karupta letters. All of this was surrounded by intertwined gold and silver leaves and topped by a magnificent gold crown.

"Here," I said holding the robe out to the boy.

He glared at me and flashed his silver eyes, but made no effort to take it.

"Put it on," Loman ordered. "You're not going to get any slack here, and you're not going to run away so you might as well realize we are not your enemies. We're here to help you and to keep you alive so quit making that difficult for us."

"But Taner tried to kill him in the limo," Berkie said, already searching through the cupboards and refrigerator in the kitchen. He pulled out something that looked like a chocolate torte and stuck his fingers in it. "Yum."

"Taner forgot his place for a moment," Loman snapped. "Taner will do his duty now, or he will find his dead ass in a gutter in Old Mishnah. Do you understand me, Taner?"

"Clearly, Captain," I replied, and glanced over at Senya. Given the choice between Akan and Senya, I would have said we were all totally screwed and should have been packing our bags for Rozari, but right then, I still needed that job.

Senya narrowed his eyes at me.

"Rozari," he said which was the first utterance from his mouth that didn't include an obscenity.

"Rozari," I repeated realizing how he came to say this. "You know, Captain, this kid can read minds. He can also put thoughts in your mind. He can, in fact, take stuff out of your mind and put it in mine. For instance, that little mess with Lt. Farman that put his wife and kids on a widow's pension for the last twelve years."

"What do you know about that?" Loman turned abruptly on me.

"I know he found his ass in a gutter in Old Mishnah," I said, wishing I had a cig, and suddenly feeling incredibly drained from having been up all night. I sat down on the sofa. "In the limo, before I decided it would probably be better not to have this kid around, I was entertained by a vision of young Loman and Farman hiding a baby in an orphanage."

Loman stared at me, then slowly, turned back to the boy.

"How do you know all this?" He demanded.

Senya had a cig between his fingers and took a long drag on it.

"Hey, where'd he get that?" I cried considering the boy was naked a moment ago, and there weren't any cigs in the pockets of the robe.

"How do you know about Farman?" Loman demanded louder, and I wasn't sure if he was yelling at me or at Senya.

"Senya says it's in your head, Papa," Berkie replied from the kitchen where he was drinking a soda, having made a mess of the cake. "He said there is nothing worthwhile in my head." To this, Berkie broke into peals of laughter, snorting the soda out his nose.

Senya smiled a little, narrowing his eyes and blowing smoke into the air.

"This kid is creeping me out," I mumbled, finding an empty pack of cigs in my own pocket.

The door opened just then, and the Lord Chamberlain, a small wiry man with thick glasses looked in. I jumped to my feet.

"Everything alright in here?" Dickon, the Lord Chamberlain said, appearing almost comical in his oversized fancy robe and ruby medallion.

I almost laughed. Peachy, I wanted to say, but didn't.

"Fine thank you, Dick," Loman replied with a forced smile that looked more like a grimace.

"Let me see our young man." Lord Dickon came into the room and peered at all of us. "You're not him," he pointed to Berkan. Berkan nodded to the window box. Dickon focused on Senya. His eyebrows lifted in surprise. "Have you no clothing for him, Loman?"

"He's bigger than we anticipated," Loman replied huffily. "We are waiting for the valets."

"Hmm," Dickon frowned. "It is the correct boy. I can tell just by looking at him. Image of his father although you can see there is something of Lydia in him, as well. You will need to cut his hair. It is far too long and unruly. I dare say, His Majesty won't like it at all."

"What time is his audience, Dick?" Loman asked and rubbed his brow.

"Four," Dickon replied. "And then the King has scheduled a presser for seven. He wants to do some balcony waving but perhaps we shall get lucky, and it will rain. I hate balcony waving."

Loman grumbled something unintelligible and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Well then," Dickon said. "Carry on and tell those valets to speed it up. I should like him to wear Dress Blacks for his audience and presser. Loman, get the boy some food. He looks terribly hungry. Goodbye then." Dickon went out the door and then a moment later, opened it again and stuck his head in.

"Yes?" Loman asked.

"I just wanted to say Happy Birthday, Your Royal Highness," Dickon smiled. "And welcome home." The door shut again.

"Who was he talking to?" Berkie asked, unwrapping an ice cream bar. "Whose birthday is it?"

"Senya's birthday," Loman replied and rolled his eyes. "He's twelve today."

"Cool," Berkie said. "I'll be twelve, too, in three months and four days. Do we get cake?"

"Come here, Berkie." Loman sat heavily on the couch across from me. "Stop eating and let me tell you why we are here." Berkie quickly ate his ice cream and then sat down next to his father. Loman put his arm around his son and spoke to him, pointedly ignoring the boy in the window box. "Senya's going to live here now," Loman said. "This is his home. This was his mother's apartment before she died and now it is his."

"Why does he have to live here?" Berkie asked.

"Well, Berkie," Loman cleared his throat. "It's a long story, but for now I'll just tell you the King is Senya's grandfather. His mama was a beautiful princess named Lydia and his father is a prince of Karupatani named Sorkan. Senya's other grandfather is the King of Karupatani. Senya's real name is Sehron de Kudisha, and the Karuptas call him the MaKennah ka Rehnor which means something like the Savior of Rehnor. Can you imagine Senya saving Rehnor?"

Berkie broke into peals of laughter. "That's nutty!"

"It is," Loman agreed.

"Bloody insane," I added for which Loman glared at me.

"Between you and me and Taner," Loman continued. "We're going to work with Senya and teach him things so that he can do the best job he can possibly do being the...ahem, savior. You see Berkie, Senya is also the Crown Prince of both Mishnah and Karupatani. That means someday he's going to be King of the whole planet."

"The Lighties and the Darks too?" Berkie asked.

"Everybody," Loman said. "So he can't go live on the streets of Old Mishnah anymore. Everybody knows he's alive and in a few hours at the presser, everybody is going to see what he looks like. He can't go back to running around all night, selling drugs and killing people. He has to cut his hair and put on nice clean clothes and speak and act like a gentleman, like a prince."

"I can do that," Berkie said. "Can I be a prince?"

Loman laughed sardonically. "Sorry, but you can't be a prince unless your dad is and I'm no prince. But, if it's alright with Senya, you can stay here. We'll get a bed for you and new clothes, and you can go to school with him here, and we will make you in charge of keeping Senya out of trouble."

"How do I do that?"

"You just make sure he doesn't knife anyone," I said.

Berkie appeared to ponder this for a few moments and then nodded. The poor kid had no idea what that might entail.

"Senya wants to know why he can't go back to being dead," Berkie said.

"Because he's alive," Loman replied. "Let me tell you why Senya was born, Berkie. The two kings decided they needed a very special prince who was both Mishnese and Karupta so that he would stop the wars between them. The Saint decided that this special prince needed magical powers. Senya is too special to be dead."

Berkie looked across the room at Senya who was still ignoring all of us while chain smoking cigs in the window box.

"Senya says the Saint was just an ordinary guy and doesn't give out magical powers especially since he's been dead for about a thousand years. He says the Infidel doesn't give out magical powers either, and he's dead too. Besides that," Berkie continued. "Magic implies that what Senya does is supernatural or with knowledge of the occult and that's not true either because he knows exactly what he does and how he does it, and it's not magic."

"What?" I gasped.

"Do you understand what you just said, Berkie?" Loman asked.

"Nope," Berkie said. "Why was I born? How come I didn't get to be a special prince with magical powers?"

Loman and I stared at Berkie for a moment and then turned simultaneously to the window box. Senya had his back to us and seemed to be gazing out at the ocean.

"Berkie," I asked. "How is Senya talking to you?"

"In my head," Berkie replied. "And he says that it's okay for me to stay here, but he wants to go live in Karupatani if he can't go back to Old Mishnah. He also said I don't get to be a prince with magical powers, but someday I'll have a very important job, and that's why I was born."

"What the hell are you talking about?" I cried.

"I don't know," Berkie shrugged.

"Senya," Loman spoke to the window. "You can't go to Karupatani now. Maybe someday you may visit but not now."

I looked at Berkie and waited for a response. Berkie shrugged again. "Why not?"

"Because King Yokaa wants him here now," Loman barked.

"Why? Senya is Karupta."

"Senya is just as much Mishnese as he is Karupta and he had better realize that!" Loman shouted at Berkie.

"Okay," Berkie whispered and his eyes filled with tears. He turned toward Senya. "I'm not going to get in trouble for you, Senya. You've got to talk for yourself now."

No response.

Berkie's lower lip trembled.

"What?" Loman asked, calming down.

"He wants some eggs. He hasn't eaten in a few days, and he's hungry for a lot of them like ten or twenty."

"Okay," Loman wrapped his arm around Berkie. "You want some eggs?" Berkie shook his head.

"Nope. I'm full."

"I'll order them," I said and got up to ring catering to bring up breakfast for us.

"Can you order a massive birthday cake?" Berkie asked. "After all, if Senya is going to be king of the whole planet, he ought to have the biggest birthday cake." Berkie held out his arms to show that the cake should be that big. "That's my idea," he added. "Senya doesn't care about a cake."

"Who's it for?" The catering department lady asked me.

"Uh...Sen...Uh...His Royal Highness, the Crown Prince." It sounded ridiculous to be referring to the naked, creepy kid in the window box this way. "He's very hungry, so please be quick about it."

"I'll make him a lovely cake," the lady told me. "His mum loved chocolate always. Does he like chocolate too?"

"I guess."

"We'll put all sorts of decorations on it and lots of sweet frosting. We'll make it just lovely," she said. "Tell the lad Happy Birthday for us, Mr. Taner, and welcome back."

"Happy Birthday and welcome back from the catering department," I mumbled as I rang off. Everyone was so excited he was back. Obviously they hadn't seen him yet.

Loman rose and walked over to the window box. "We've only got a few hours to get you ready, Senya," he said. "So it's very important you cooperate with us. The valets are going to fit you for new clothes, the doctor is going to make sure you're healthy, and the hairdresser is coming to cut your hair. After you've eaten and dressed, Taner is going to show you how to act whilst in the presence of His Majesty and work with you on speaking proper Mishnese. Berkie is not going to come with you so you cannot use him as your mouthpiece. Do you understand me, lad?"

The boy shrugged.

"I will come with you," Loman continued. "And Lt. Taner is going to be right outside the door. Taner is your body guard now. He will make sure nothing happens to you."

"'e won't be very good at it," Senya said.

"Taner is very well trained," Loman replied.

"The fuckin' fruit's gonna 'ave me shot an Taner ain't gonna do shit."

I coughed into my hand. Berkie giggled. Loman cleared his throat.

"Your uncle, Prince Akan is not going to have you shot. He may threaten you, but he won't hurt you. You are under the King's protection."

"The fruit is Senya's uncle?" Berkie gasped.

"Hush Berkan," Loman ordered. "Taner come here and swear your allegiance to the Crown Prince and promise to protect him."

"Excuse me?" I said.

"Taner!" Loman snapped. A bit reluctantly, I crossed the room and took a knee.

"Um...yes, well...I promise," I started to say. Senya's silver eyes were shining into my face.

For a moment, my head went fuzzy. I looked up at him, and I saw him, but not as a boy. I saw a man with long black hair, a short cropped black beard, and silver eyes that shone so bright they eclipsed the sun. He radiated power as he towered over me, there was an aura about him as if the Saint himself has touched him and blessed him. I gazed up at him, my heart swelling with love and devotion and then I fell to the floor at his feet and swore my oath of fealty.

"You can get up now Taner," Loman said. I heard footsteps cross the room, and the door opened, but I was stunned by what I had seen and for a moment could not move.

"Get up, Taner," Berkie squatted down beside me and whispered in my ear. "Senya is leaving."

I lifted my head and stared across the room at Senya's back. Briefly, the boy turned around and his silver eyes shone once again at me, a sly smile on his lips. My heart trembled, and my skin prickled.

"Get up, Taner," Berkie nudged me. "Your breakfast is here."

Stumbling to my feet, I continued to stare at the door Senya had just disappeared through with the valets.

"You okay, Taner?" Berkie asked.

I turned to Loman. He was looking at me with narrow eyes. "What the heck?" I shook my head, the image of the grown Senya still in my skull. "What is he?"

Loman shook his head.

"Did you see him?"

"Who?" Berkie asked.

Loman smiled slightly and nodded. "Twelve years ago today."

"Who?" Berkie demanded again.

"The MaKennah ka Rehnor," Loman replied. "The man who will save us."

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# Chapter 5

# Meri

SEVERAL MONTHS AFTER the guardsman took Senya to the Palace, he came to my door again. As it was, I was watching the vid where my Senya was shown holding an audience for thousands of teenage girls of superior blood. Poor Senya looked like he was cut from a stone. I imagined him miserable in all those fancy clothes with his strange feet trapped in tight leather shoes.

It was good to see him looking so clean and healthy. My heart raced with joy when I saw him, the pics of him in the news and the pinups they later made of him for the people to buy. I loved to chat about him with the people in the Old Mishnah. Everyone suddenly claimed him as a friend. Even the old grocer declared that always he had given Senya whatever he desired, Senya was never a thief.

When Lt. Taner arrived at my flat, he presented me with a purse filled with many, many gold coins.

"His Majesty thanks you for your service, Ma'am," he said, smiling in an awkward way when I invited him in.

My flat was clean and tidy, and I had coffee hot in a pot, but he refused and headed down the hall.

"Is Senya happy?" I called after him. He turned for a moment and looked back at me.

"His Royal Highness is as could be expected," he replied haughtily and then realizing how cold he must have sounded, he smiled apologetically. "It's kind of a tough adjustment, but we're working with him. Captain Loman's twelve year old son lives with us, and he and Senya have become great friends."

I was happy Senya had a little friend. He never got along with any other children before.

I counted the coins after Lt. Taner left, and it was a sum beyond my wildest imagination. I did not know what to do with them, but I would not be hasty about it. I would think on it carefully and plan for my future. I placed the coins beneath my pillow and during the night while I slept, the coins gave me dreams and told me what to do.

In the morning, I took the bus into New Mishnah and opened an account at a bank. Then I found an attorney. Through the attorney, I contracted to purchase the building in which I lived as well as the buildings adjacent on either side. I arranged for improvements to be made so that the hallways were not dark and smelly and filled with vermin, and so that the water would always run hot and cold and with a strong force. The radiators, I replaced with a new heating system that was silent and energy efficient. I replaced all the windows with triple paned glass. The manager who lived on the bottom floor and who many times I had serviced, I fired and replaced with a leasing company.

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# Chapter 6

# Moira

WHEN I WAS A GIRL, I wanted to be a dancer. My parent's indulged me because I was their youngest and most precious daughter, and so, they arranged for a dance tutor to come to the great hall where we lived and teach me to dance.

I loved ballet. I was graceful as a swan, my father the Duke of Dekoor said. I was as lithe as a feather, my mother the Duchess said. I danced every moment that I could, gliding across the floor, leaping into the arms of my tutor and soaring to the heavens on my toes until the day I broke my foot. After that, my toe shoes were useless, and my dancing ended. I was fifteen.

I had no use for schooling. I could read and write Mishnese well enough. I had learned the history of Rehnor and Rozari and could recite it well enough. I could do sums in my head enough to play cards with my sisters, and I could sing and play piano passably well. I couldn't sew. I had never the patience to make tiny stitches.

So there I was at fifteen, unable to dance with nothing more to learn in this world. I had only to wait to be matched to a sufficiently bred man, which as the daughter of a duke, meant only a son of a duke or prince. Even the son of an earl was not good enough for me.

The problem was, there were precious few men of high breeding remaining in Mishnah and Saint knows though Karupatani was teeming with princes and chiefs, no good Mishnese girl would ever willingly be wed to one of them. On top of that, I was the fourth in the line of Dekoor's daughters and so three dukes must be found first to accommodate my sisters.

There was one prince in our realm, our Crown Prince Yokaa Kalila who at the age of thirty-two, still had not found a bride. He was our cousin, through my father, three times removed and the only child of our king who had accumulated four wives before he managed to beget a son. As you can imagine, Yokaa was a hot commodity.

During the summer of my fifteenth year as I mourned the loss of my toe shoes, the Crown Prince was invited to our estate to celebrate the solstice. Ideally, he was to meet and be enchanted by my eldest sister, Dora, and if she were not enchanting enough, Luka, and then, Nisa were to have a go at it. Never in a million years would anyone imagine that I, Moira, the youngest of the lot, short and skinny with the figure of a boy would even begin to attract the middle aged Crown Prince.

He found me diverting. That was his word. My sisters bored him with their fawning and quest for court gossip, but I was fresh and diverting with my silly childish ways. Though I could no longer leap and dance, I could run and run I did whenever he saw me. Hence, he gave chase. He spent a week at our estate and chased me through the hallways, the gardens, the maze, the forest, and the valley. When he caught up with me, when he found me hiding beneath a shrub or wedged between the garden walls, he would demand a kiss as a reward.

"One kiss, Sir," I would say and peck him chastely upon his cheek.

Sometimes he would reach for me to demand more and once or twice he managed to brush my lips with his own but like a sprite I would spirit away, and the chase would begin anew.

At the end of this week, the Crown Prince asked my father, the Duke for my hand in marriage although he was more than twice my age. My father insisted he wait until my sixteenth birthday, and in the meantime, I was to move to the Palace of Mishnah where I would begin my training for my position as Crown Princess and future Queen.

My sisters were insanely jealous, but they came to Mishnah with me as my mother insisted they become my attendants. For seven months, I prepared for my wedding and my future duties with a diligence and steadfastness that I had previously reserved for only my dancing.

On the day after my sixteenth birthday, I became the Crown Princess, and my virginity was rewarded to my husband who unbeknownst to me had slept repeatedly with each of my sisters during this time.

"Get used to it, Moira," my mother snapped when I wept to her upon discovering this news.

It was my sister Nisa who bragged about it whilst curtseying to me as she was now required to do. My mother was inordinately pleased by my match and further still by my sister, Luka, who had quickly become my husband's favorite concubine. She would find no fault for his sins but rather blamed me for my innocence.

"Your son will be the next king, and that is who you must love without fail," my mother said as if my husband's affections were of no consequence.

I became pregnant quickly and was overjoyed to learn that my child was a girl. My son would belong to Mishnah, my daughter would belong to me.

From the moment of my discovery, I chose to spend the next eight months lying in. My sisters were forced to wait upon me, to pamper, to curtsey to me, and when my angel, my Lydia was born, I made them kiss her tiny feet and pledge to serve her, the Princess Royal, all their days.

My husband the Crown Prince was pleased by our daughter for truly she had the look of an angel with curly hair the color of the sun and clear grey eyes so light they seemed almost devoid of color. Her skin was fair like a Lightie, but her lips were ruby red. The Prince would kiss our child's tiny hands and her feet, and she would laugh and smile and charm him beyond any other. And, he rewarded me for granting him this beautiful gift. He brought me jewels and filled my suite with flowers. He kissed my hands and called me his beloved Moira, and he soured upon my sister's attentions, and for a brief moment in time, it was only I whose bed he shared.

I became pregnant again and this time with our son. Bells pealed throughout Mishnah announcing this great news and my husband and father-in-law, the King, kissed my feet and declared me a goddess descended from the heavens. I lay upon my couch all day feeling my son move about my womb, watching my beautiful daughter play quietly with her toys and feeling content with this life as never before.

During my lying in, my husband found another maid or two to focus his attentions. He begged my pardon for he would not dare harm his son by penetrating my womb and so, his nights no longer were spent in my chamber but elsewhere. I told myself to care not because within me I had a future king, and it was him I should endow with my love.

My son, Akan was born, and he too was a beautiful child. His hair was brown like my husband's, but his eyes were a piercing emerald green.

"You have the most beautiful children on Rehnor," I was told by many, and without a doubt it was true.

My children were well behaved and modest though they knew their station and commanded well the servants who kissed their hands and feet and did their bidding.

Yokaa, my husband came to my bed infrequently after that. I had given him what he needed, and if he came to me it was only out of formality. He visited plenty other beds though and so I shared mine with my children, clutching their small bodies as they slept, listening to the even sounds of their breathing and knowing that Akan, the future king, loved me more than anyone.

When my children were young still, a boy came to live with us. His name was Loman, and he was the son of a Lightie woman, a one-time chambermaid of my mother-in-law, the Queen. The chambermaid had died a miserable death of a painful cancer this past year.

The Queen took pity upon the child and brought him to the Palace as no father was ever known to him and no relative would raise him in the mother's stead. He became a companion for my children, their guardian and babysitter as he was twelve years to Lydia's seven.

He was a serious child, perhaps made so by the tragic circumstances of his arrival among us but he was dependable and took care, so much so, I needed only be told that Loman was with them to have no fear of my own children's safety. There was something about him that bothered me though. I thought perhaps it was his lightness for his hair, and his skin were shockingly white, and his eyes were a pale blue and as nearly translucent as Lydia's own. He was large for a boy, but that was not it.

Something niggled at the back of my brain, and as the children grew older, as I watched the childish love dawn in my own Lydia's eyes, my dislike of Loman began to take root.

When Loman was sixteen and Lydia eleven with budding breasts and a wicked wit, I insisted that Loman be removed from our presence. He was old enough to be schooled elsewhere, mature enough to require neither parent nor guardian, and large enough to pass easily for a man twice his age. My husband demurred. He liked the boy and strangely sought out his company preferring Loman to his own son and heir.

Together they would hunt and ride, sail boats upon the sea and no doubt find maids to ravish when the night time came. Akan was far too young for these pleasures in any case but even if he were not, his father found little use for him. He was my child, my baby and perhaps it was my fault, treating him as if his every breath was precious. His concerns were his hair, his fingernails, and the softness of his skin. He looked upon Lydia's gowns with obvious jealousy and once when he was about nine years old, a chambermaid confessed that she had found him dressing himself in his sister's attire.

Of course, I never shared this with the Crown Prince. I hoped it was a phase and soon it would be done with. After repeatedly airing my many concerns about Loman however, the boy was finally sent off to the Royal Guard Academy. I don't know who missed him more, my daughter or my husband but both of them looked upon me as if I were solely to blame for the boy's absence.

My children's teen years were tumultuous. War began anew with the dreadful Karuptas, and many Mishnese in the cities bordering the seas were killed in attacks. The Karuts suffered worse than us of course as we had better weapons and could annihilate entire villages in mere moments whilst they relied on the techniques of the terrorists. A Karupta Prince was killed, my father-in-law too died of a cancer and all of sudden, my husband was King and I, Queen.

Akan was too young to be declared Crown Prince at this time, but it was a given that he would succeed his father in the next generation despite the reservations my husband held. He did not approve of Akan's effeminate ways which became more pronounced as the boy entered puberty.

At fourteen, my son dressed and spoke in a pretty way. He attracted attention from men and boys of the court who were known to engage in such activities that I dare not even think. I heard whisperings from the maids, from my ladies, from my sisters, but I ignored them. Even when my son took up a constant companion, a boy named Phylyp, his own age and the son of an earl, I would not think about how he too had an effeminate manner. I was told they shared a chamber. I was told they shared a bed. I closed my eyes and covered my ears and repeated to myself that someday my son would be king and whose bed he deigned to toss about in was his own choosing.

I had more worries than just my son. The war with the Karuptas had ceased for the time being, and my husband the King, entertained the Karupta King, a man his own age and sentiments, in the Palace. They spent many hours cloistered together determined to end this repetitive cycle of violence that threatened our planet throughout the thousand years of our history.

While noble in the intent, it was their solution, The Agreement that forever turned my heart cold. My children were sacrificed without my knowledge, without my consent, and in so doing, my husband sacrificed me.

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# Chapter 7

# Sorkan

THE CONTINENT OF KARUPATANI encompassed nearly half the planet Rehnor as it did on the mother planet Rozari. We were content with that. We had always been content with this. It was the Mishnese who had always sought otherwise, to control that which was ours and to assimilate us into them. They had coveted our land on Rehnor, and before that on Rozari, and it was this that caused the Great War.

My Great Father, Karukan was a brilliant man although history would say otherwise. Some believed he even had powers, abilities that went far beyond those of a mortal man. He wrote of these powers in the books that were passed down to us over the thousand years since his death. Yet it was unclear in these books and to the scholars and sages who had studied them since whether the Great Father spoke of himself. Many believed he was referring to another, a man to come many generations hence, a man he called the MaKennah.

Regardless, Karukan lived the life of a mortal man and unfortunately, was forced to make a choice, a horrendous and horrific choice that damaged the Mother Planet beyond recognition and sent us, his sons and daughters to this Rehnor. Not long after that, our enemies followed and too settled on this planet demanding a continuation of the war that brought us here to begin with.

For a thousand years, we had fought the Mishnese, and for us it had been a difficult battle. We had no longer the ships and weapons; we had not the means to unleash the destruction upon them as they had upon us. We were a simple people, a people of the land, and it was only our stealth, our faith, our fearlessness and our God that had preserved our nation.

Karupatani was surrounded by the oceans. We had two large mountain ranges that bisected us north and south and many rivers, valleys and plateaus. We were a fruitful land, and if we were to count our people, there might be a few million, a small amount compared to the many million Mishnese. We had villages and towns throughout our land and each village was ruled by a chief and council of elders. Our village chiefs made up a territorial council. These councils come before our King four times a year to resolve issues and pay homage. My father, Merakoma de Kudisha, was the King of Karupatani.

When I was fourteen, I was marked with the sign of the horse and declared the Crown Prince. This was my privilege and my responsibility as the oldest of Merakoma's sons. My second brother, Lot was two years younger, and some said he was a better choice being more responsible and level headed than I. I was wild, yes, and I enjoyed my position and flaunted it. The day after I was marked, I bedded four girls.

My youth came quickly to an end though, when four years later my mother was killed. The old Mishak King attacked my mother's village while she was there visiting her sisters. My father was devastated. From that time forth he was a changed man. My brother, Lot and I met with the men of our nation, and we plotted and planned our revenge, but my father cared not at all. He poured over the writings of Karukan as if our defense was hidden therein.

My brother and I led a series of attacks on Turko and Renfro, the Mishnese border cities and we killed many Mishaks, but in so doing my brother too lost his life. He was stupid. It was his own fault. He didn't clear the area as quickly as needed and so was caught in the counter attack by the Mishnese Guards. When they found him and returned his body to us, his heart was pierced by a single bullet. My father's hair turned to grey overnight.

We mourned for my brother, and we prepared for the next attack. I had planned it well and was fortunate in that just before we were to launch, the Mishnese king died. His son, a man about my own father's age became the new king and Mishnah for a time was in mourning and not watching their defenses. It was the opportune time, and the night before, I prepared myself by abstaining from any women, instead drilling myself and my men repeatedly with our light swords.

Just before dawn my father came to me, I thought to wish us success but instead he pulled me away from my men and bid me walk with him back to the village. My brother Pedah was with him. Pedah was sixteen years at the time. He had a steady gaze and calm demeanor and would gladly speak to you for hours on the subjects of science and mathematics long after your interest had waned. His desire above all was to study even if that meant he must cross the ocean to Mishnah to do so.

"Sorkan," my father said. "You will cancel your plans. There will be no attack tomorrow or ever after."

I opened my mouth to protest, but my brother interrupted. "Listen to him, brother," he said as if he was the older and I, the young one. "His words are very important. Do not interrupt."

"I have read the Holy Book. I have read the words of our Great Father so many times these last few years that I could recite them from memory now," my father said. "And it is in these words that I have found the answer. We will forever cease to war with the Mishnese and we will become brothers with them."

I gasped. I was outraged. Were it not for Pedah's piercing gaze, I would think my father had gone from his mind. "What does it say?" I managed to speak calmly. "How are we to do this?"

"It says," my father intoned. "My son shall be the son of my enemy. My son shall be called the MaKennah."

I glanced off into the forest. Perhaps my father and my brother had both gone from their minds.

"Sorkan," my father said sharply. "You will wed the Princess Royal of Mishnah, and you will beget a son."

"What?!?"

"Your son will be called MaKennah ka Rehnor, and he will be named upon his birth as my heir and the heir to the Mishnese King."

My legs had gone leaden and could not move another pace.

"I am your heir," I gasped. My father did not meet my gaze. I looked to my brother who shook his head. "You would give my crown, my birthright to the son of a Mishak whore?"

"She is not a whore, Sorkan," my brother explained professorially. "She is the Princess Royal and a direct descendant of the Saint. She is also sixteen years and virgin. It's a great honor for you brother. You will be the father of the MaKennah."

"But I will not be King of Karupatani!"

"The Mishnese King will make you Duke of Segefor. You will have a great palace there where you may live."

"I don't give a bloody fuck for Segefor!" I practically screamed. "I am a prince of Karupatani. I am to be King of Karupatani!"

"No, you are not," my father said, resoundingly. "The MaKennah ka Rehnor is to be my heir."

"This MaKennah doesn't even exist," I cried. "He has not yet been conceived. What if she is barren or if the child is a girl? What if he does not survive in her womb or dies an infant? What then? What will become of me? Shall I be strapped for all eternity to this Mishak bitch trying again and again to produce that which you think must be created?"

"She will conceive, and she will bear the child."

"And on what authority do you know this?"

"It shall happen, Sorkan," my brother said. "It will."

"And what if I refuse to lie with her?"

"Ach, come now, brother, you have lain with everyone and everything. One night with this girl will not kill you."

"And what of the Mishak Crown Prince? What does he think about relinquishing his crown for your illustrious MaKennah?"

"He is not pleased," my father replied. "But like you, he has no choice in the matter. It is agreed to. It is done. Tomorrow we will go to Mishnah, and within one week, you will be wed to the Princess. She menstruates this week. Your wedding night shall be excellent timing for conception." They walked away.

I drank. I drank everything I could put my hands on, and I smoked every ounce of Barkuti I could obtain. I shot up Horkin. I fucked every girl in Karupatani, married or not, virgin or not, and when they dragged me into the Palace of Mishnah to meet my bride I was barely conscious.

They were horrified by me I was certain and rightly so for I teetered on my feet, I slurred my words, my eyes were crossed, and I belched and farted soundly. Pity poor Pedah could not have done my duty for me but for the accident of my birth prior to his. He would have relished this chance to be the father of a great king as he had no interest in being one himself.

But, I had, and I was robbed of this as was the Mishak Prince who glared at me as if it were all my doing and promised to kill first me and then my son. I laughed at him and showed him my blade, which could make quick work upon his throat. He was as weak as a kitten and clung to his boyfriend. A gust of wind could have knocked the two of them to the ground.

The day of my wedding, as I staggered outside the great hall, a huge Lightie came upon me. Seizing my neck, he slammed me against the wall. I am a big man and strong. I am a Prince of Karupatani and never yet had I been so dominated but for this Lightie. I was dressed in the fine clothes of the Mishaks with no pocket for my blade and only my foul drunken breath to ward off this creature.

"You hurt her, Karut," he hissed. "And I will kill you with my hand." For good measure, he choked me so much that I spurted and fought for breath. "I'm watching you, all the time." He dropped me and departed as quickly as he came.

I did not bother to straighten my suit nor comb back my hair. I went into the grand hall and saw my bride, a wee little thing covered from head to toe in a white veil and gown. She trembled on the altar, and her hand fluttered as it lay upon mine as we stood before our fathers and were wed. Without further delay for even a toast or a congratulatory meal, we were hustled off to the bedchamber. She was ovulating.

Thankfully, they left us alone and awkwardly we stood in silence. I craved a drink and had become quite fond of Mishnese Vodka but was not allowed any this day so as not to impair my functions.

"Fuck," I said and sat down on the bed. "How the fuck did I get into this?"

She looked at me through her veiling and her eyes filled with tears. I studied these for a moment as her eyes were strange, nearly the color of water on a November day.

"Are you crying?" I asked for I could not tell.

She nodded.

"Are you afraid of me?"

She nodded again, and I realized that she was just a child. Though she was fertile and of age, she had lived a cloistered life here in the Palace unlike our women of Karupatani.

"I won't hurt you," I said. "I'm not angry at you. You were forced into this just as I, were you not?"

She nodded.

"I love someone else," she said in a tiny voice.

"Well," I shrugged. "Let us do what must be done and then you may be free of me."

"But we will have a son together," she reminded me.

"He won't be ours," I replied. "We are merely the donors of his DNA and you the incubator. They will take him from both of us upon his birth. And that's fine with me." I removed my jacket and slipped off my shirt. "I don't want a son anyway especially one that has stolen my crown."

"I would like a baby to love," she said as her clear grey eyes appraised my body. I was in fine form. I was well muscled and lean. I was a warrior prince of Karupatani. "I should like to bear my true love a son."

"Well perhaps in the next life," I smirked and slipped off my trousers. Her eyes grew wide. She had never seen a man naked. Certainly she had never seen a man with as fine a cock as mine for that man did not exist. I was young, twenty-one then, and it took only a thought to raise my friend to proud attention. "Take off your clothes, Princess. Let's be done with this and on our way."

"I can't," she cried and backed away.

"Ah come now," I said getting frustrated. "This whole event has been orchestrated down to the minute. Surely, if you do not wish to fuck me, you can dream of your true love and pretend that I am he. I certainly will be pretending that you are someone else."

Her eyes filled with tears again.

"Must you be so cruel?" she wept.

I lay on the bed and noted my friend had lost some of his enthusiasm. "Can you at least take off your veil so I may see your face? What is your name?"

"Lydia," she whispered and removed the veil. Surprisingly, she was quite pretty. She had blonde curls and fair skin, nearly as fair as a Lightie yet red lips that seemed quite pleasing.

"I am Sorkan," I said. "You are beautiful Lydia. I shall take pleasure in having you."

"I know I am beautiful," she replied and raised her chin. "And you are beautiful too even though you are dark and wicked looking. I think we shall make an exceptionally beautiful son."

I laughed at this.

"Unless you take off your gown and come lie with me here, there shall be no son, and then they shall make us repeat this effort. You wouldn't want that, would you?"

"Oh no." She shook her head like a child and slowly released the buttons on her gown. It slipped to the floor. She had no breasts. Her belly and hips were flat like a boy's. My cock shrunk in sorrow. Her face colored, and her eyes filled again. "You don't want me now?"

"Ach Lydia," I sighed and reached for her. "Come lie down and I shall teach you how to kiss properly. Have you ever been kissed?"

"No." She shook her head again. "Only my hands and feet."

"That doesn't count," I remarked drily. "Well, we shall start with your lips for they are quite luscious and I shall enjoy teaching them."

"Will you still impregnate me tonight," she asked, setting herself beside me.

"Ay yah," I said. "We shall start with kissing and move onward from there. I dare say before morning you shall have the nasty brat begun in your womb."

He was begun that night, but for good measure Lydia and I repeated the act again and again for she had discovered that she quite liked me, and I had discovered that I quite liked teaching her. In fact, I became fond of her, even a little in love, and over the next few months, chose to stay by her side rather than return to Karupatani. She had a strong appetite for me, and I reveled at the changes in her body, the magnificent breasts that erupted, the hard swelling of her belly, the softness of her inner thighs and I marveled that I had caused this all to occur.

For a brief but astonishing few months, Lydia and I lived in our palace at Segefor. Had we created a sibling for our son each time we copulated, I dare say our boy would now have five hundred brothers and sisters.

By the advent of her third trimester, the King of Mishnah recalled Lydia to the Palace of Mishnah for her final lying in and birth. Our son was tumultuous during this time, tossing and turning about without cease. It was feared that he would arrive well before his gestation was complete and I was forbidden from touching her again. The physicians monitored him constantly, and we watched him on the vid in front of Lydia's bed as the doctors made such noises and whisperings that would cause anyone fright.

"Is he alright?" Lydia squeaked each time they gazed upon the screen with their hands crossed behind their backs.

"He is...he is...different."

How or what this meant was never explained. I looked at him and counted fingers and toes. His head was the correct shape. His little body curled in the tight space seemed equally normal. His tiny cock seemed normal, as well. What could possibly be wrong?

"I am feared for our baby, Sorkan," Lydia wept when the doctors left.

"Our baby will be a great King," I told her. "You have nothing to fear. When he is born, and you are recovered, we will make him a sibling too."

"Will we?" She smiled with her water colored eyes. "I should like a daughter."

"It is done," I said as if I could control such things. "As beautiful as you, my wife."

In the seventh month of Lydia's gestation, I returned to Karupatani only for two days. It was midsummer and the meeting of the councils. Though I was no longer Crown Prince, I was treated with great respect and admiration. Everyone asked of my wife, my son and blessed me for having stopped the wars of a thousand years. My father smiled at me with great pride, and for the first time since my mother's and my brother's death, he seemed at peace.

On the first day of August, I flew back to the Palace of Mishnah, anxious to return to my wife's side and await the birth of my son. As soon as I landed in the courtyard, I knew something had happened. The palace, though filled with light and sun, was shrouded in darkness. My limo had barely touched down before I bolted across the lawn toward the Big House. It was silent there, silent as never before without a chambermaid or servant anywhere in sight.

I ran to our rooms, to Lydia's suite where only two days before I left her with a kiss and a promise to hurry back. The doors were locked and sealed. There was no guard to grant me entrance. I pounded on them until my knuckles were raw and bleeding. I screamed, "Lydia! Lydia!" for what seemed like eons.

"She's dead," the big Lightie said pulling my bloody hands away from the door. "This morning."

"No!" I cried. "No!" and I collapsed upon the floor. The Lightie let me drop. "How?" I begged of him.

He shook his head.

"Lydia," I wept and then I realized how it had come to pass. "My son?"

The Lightie shook his head again and then he left me, a huddled mess. Somehow I managed my way back to the limo and somehow I was flown to my empty, cold, palace in Segefor. Once there I began to drink. I drank and drank and drank until sometime later, Pedah came for me.

"I've lost everything," I slurred.

"You haven't," he said. "Your son still lives. You must go get him from them."

"I don't care," I wept. "I don't want him. I want my Lydia."

"You must Sorkan. Everything depends upon your son."

"No! Let them keep him. He is nothing to me. I hate him. He has taken my Lydia and taken my crown. I want nothing of him."

I refused to set down the bottle I drank from. I refused to move. Pedah left and for many years I set not a foot in Karupatani. I did not lay eyes upon my son for twelve more years when suddenly his face, my face with Lydia's fair complexion, was plastered across the vid screens of Rehnor.

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# Chapter 8

# Taner

LATE AFTERNOON, AFTER his audience, we returned to Senya's suite. Earlier in the day, his hair, teeth and skin were scrubbed raw. He was dressed in what we referred to as our "Dress blacks", the formal guardsmen uniform with a gold silk sash, except that his had a great deal more brocade than mine and the gold buttons and thread were genuine. His hair had been cut so that it hung just below his shoulders, and it was tied back with a black ribbon. The doctor had declared him healthy but had whispered quietly to Loman that there were traces of Horkin in the boy's urine and needle marks on his arms. Keeping him off of drugs had just been added to my long list of responsibilities.

Senya's toenails were not the only strange appendages. The doctor was shocked to discover long, fang-like incisors next to perfectly normal permanent teeth. While these extra sharp teeth were certainly weird and later very disconcerting when I looked at them, they didn't seem to cause problems for him. His toenails, however, were far too long and curled to make wearing shoes comfortable, but too hard and thick to be cut by a normal, small scissors. A man was sent to the aviary to obtain a special clipper to snip avian talons and the doctor used that to trim Senya's nails enough so he could wear shoes.

"Senya and I want a cheese pizza," Berkie announced. "And milkshakes. And more chocolate cake. And French fries."

"Order what you want," Loman grumbled, as the two of us sat down on the divans. Loman opened a beer while Berkie rang catering.

"How did it go in there?" I asked.

Loman shrugged and took a long pull. I took a pack of cigarettes out of my pocket and shook out the last one. During the boy's visit to the doctor, I had run back to my flat and pocketed a fresh pack. Now, all but one were gone. Then I noticed Senya, back in the window box smoking a cig, his dress coat and shoes abandoned on the floor.

"He's stealing them from me," I commented, holding up the empty pack.

"That's the least of your worries," Loman harrumphed.

Unfortunately, he was probably right. "The audience didn't go well?"

Loman opened a second beer and sighed loudly. "As well as could be expected. We're still alive, aren't we? For now," he added in a mumble.

I glanced at the boy in the window box ignoring us but probably listening to every word. Leaning forward, I whispered. "Tell me he didn't tell His Majesty to fuck off."

Loman snorted. "No. He didn't speak at all. Not a word, thank the Saint. He opened his eyes though and for a moment I thought the King was going to go into cardiac arrest. The queen shrieked and ran from the room. Akan went into a tirade about the Infidel reborn and then it was done, and we were dismissed."

"Great." I nodded, taking a drag on my cig. "So are we back out to the streets of Old Mishnah in search of a less spooky boy?"

Loman snorted again. "No, Taner. Spooky or not, we've got the correct lad. He's got an ID chip in his arm that was inserted when he was a baby. It's still there. I saw it. Shine a torch on his right bicep and you'll see his crest."

"You think he knew all along, about this? I mean, how did he know to go to your house? Why isn't he thrilled to be here? You'd think a street kid would be ecstatic to find out he's actually a prince."

Loman moaned slightly and pinched the bridge of his nose as if he had a migraine. "Taner, we all have a great deal to learn about Senya. He's not just a street kid. He is the MaKennah ka Rehnor and according to the Karuts, his birth was foretold centuries ago. I haven't a clue what he knows, but I do know he cannot read or write Mishnese. He has never had any sort of schooling, so tomorrow, you will walk the boys to Building 21, second floor, where you will find their tutors. In the afternoon, you will fetch them again when they are finished. The den is going to be converted into a bedroom for you and the boys will share the master bedroom here."

"I'm to live in here?" I gasped. "And Berkan?"

"Yes. Both of you will be with him all hours, Taner," Loman said sternly. "You are not to leave his side unless I grant you permission and then only after I get a relief guard."

"I'm a detective, not a babysitter," I mumbled. "He's safe here in the palace. He's got the king's protection, right?"

"You are the king's protection," Loman snapped and took out a vial of pills from his pocket. He tossed one back in his mouth. "You are now his personal body guard. Let me tell you, Akan has threatened to have him killed since the day he was conceived. Akan is full of air and weak as a kitten. However, all it takes is one good shot. You are to make certain that Akan's loyalists don't get a chance to take that shot. You are his last line of defense."

"You think Akan will try something?"

Senya turned from the window and listened to us with his eyes closed.

"What?" I looked back at him.

His face hardened, and his eyes flashed like he'd like to put his blade back in my throat.

I was supposed to take a bullet for him. Maybe I should have just cut my own throat and gotten it over with.

Just then, there was a knock on the door and the catering cart came in.

"Pizza!" Berkie shrieked and raced across the room. He grabbed the tray and carried it over to the window box holding it out to Senya like an offering. "You get the first piece because it's your birthday, Senya."

"No," Loman stood up and lumbered over to the window. "Senya will always get the first piece because he is the Crown Prince, Berkan. You must defer to him in all things."

Senya turned back to the window ignoring all of us and the pizza.

"Senya doesn't want it," Berkie declared. "I can eat it all by myself."

"Would you like something else instead, Sir?" Loman asked politely.

Senya continued to stare outside like a caged animal, pressing his face against the glass. I almost felt sorry for him.

"You need to eat, son," Loman said.

Berkie shrieked again. "Senya wants something bloody! You are sure one weird dude, Senya!"

"Berkie!" Loman snapped. "Go eat your pizza." He pointed at the kitchen.

"Bloody?" I coughed, stifling a laugh and joining them at the window. "Something you can rip apart with those fangs? Loman, you think we need to protect him from Akan? Akan ought to be running for the hills. Maybe we all should be."

Loman grimaced and cleared his throat. "What would you like for your dinner, Sir? Would you like a beef steak? Rare?"

The boy shrugged.

Somehow I doubted he's ever had a beef steak. I wondered what his idea of bloody meat was; a rat, or maybe, another person.

"Very good, Sir," Loman said and left to ring catering yet again. I stood near the boy looking out the window at the darkening sky.

"Looks like a storm is moving in across the ocean," I remarked as dark clouds swirled overhead foreboding something although I wasn't sure what.

"Ye can't protect me," the boy whispered.

"What?"

He turned to me, silver light shining from between the thin slits of his long lashes. I wondered how he saw anything with his eyes nearly closed.

"Ye can't do shit, Taner."

"How do you know what I can do?" I replied. "Maybe I'm the most loyal Royalist there ever was and I'll catch every bullet that is headed your way. Maybe I'll lay down like a mat for you to walk all over me."

"Maybe you'll run fer cover, and I'll 'ave to save yer ass," he said.

I studied his blank face wondering what he knew. What could possibly be going on inside that head? "Listen Senya," I said. "Let's call a truce. It sounds like we are going to be stuck with each other for a long time so let's make a deal. I'll share my smokes with you if you leave one for me occasionally and don't chew on my leg when I'm sleeping or anything like that, okay?"

He shrugged and turned away again just as the doors swung open, allowing Prince Akan and Lord Phylyp to enter. Half of Phylyp's face was covered with a bandage. He was holding what appeared to be a horse whip in one of his hands.

"Just one big happy family, aren't we?" Akan smirked, standing in the middle of the room. Phylyp snickered and stroked his whip.

"What do you want, Akan?" Loman sighed.

"Come now, you stupid Lightie," Akan practically screamed. "Address me correctly!" He gazed across the room at Berkan. "Or I may have to teach your son a thing or two." Berkan squeaked and ducked below the kitchen cabinets. Akan and Phylyp laughed.

"How may I serve you, my lord Prince?" Loman grumbled.

"That's better," Akan smiled. "We have come to mete out punishment to our beloved nephew for the damage he has inflicted upon our lord Phylyp's face. Phylyp may even need surgery to restore his beauty. Bring the boy to us."

Senya didn't move from the window box. In fact, he didn't even bother to turn around.

"His Majesty said there was no need of punishment," Loman declared. "And His Majesty is the MaKennah's guardian, not you."

"There has been a change of plans," Akan said. "After viewing this wretched creature, our noble father has decided that all and everything must be done to rid him of the evil that surely infests his soul. Therefore, our lord Phylyp will administer punishment for the heinous attack on his face today. Sehron, come here!"

Senya still didn't move. I didn't think anyone had ever called him Sehron before. Maybe he didn't realize that was his name.

"Senya," Loman rolled his eyes. "Get over here. You must obey your lord uncle, Prince Akan."

Nothing.

"Senya," Loman repeated and raised his eyebrows at me.

"Senya," I whispered. "You've gotta do as you're told. That's the way it works here."

"Come here right now," Akan shouted. "I command you!"

Nobody moved.

"Loman," Akan hissed. "Bring me the boy."

Loman closed his eyes as if this was painful. "Though you out rank Prince Akan, Senya, you are still a minor child and therefore, must obey him. Do as you are bid."

The boy was cut from stone. I couldn't tell if he was even breathing.

"Fine!" Akan shouted and grabbing the horse whip from Phylyp's hand, raced across the room to the window box. "I shall teach you to obey me!"

Before I could even think to react, he lashed out at Senya. The whip cracked, inadvertently slapping my face after slashing at the boy.

"Ow!" I yelled, backing away as Senya's new silk blouse tore and an angry red welt erupted across his shoulder.

"One for every cut on Phylyp's face!" Akan quickly swung the whip again, but it went flying out of his hand and landed on the floor. Akan bent to pick it up, but before our eyes, it turned into an enormous yellow and black snake, easily ten foot long with a body as thick as a man's leg.

Prince Akan screamed and backed away. I ran for cover behind a sofa. The snake slithered across the floor, spitting and coiling its massive body closer to Akan. Berkie whimpered from the kitchen while Senya turned from the window box, his weird eyes flashing like the lightning outside.

"Senya." Loman cautiously crept toward the boy, watching the snake, although it seemed intent on only Akan. "That's enough, Senya. Get rid of it."

The snake spat at Akan. Berkie wailed louder.

"Now Senya!" Loman commanded.

Senya raised his hand, and the snake erupted into flames. It sizzled and burned and a moment later, it was reduced to only a pool of ash on the marble floor. A sickening stench remained in the room.

"Zowie," Berkan gasped from behind the kitchen counter, tears streaking down his face.

"Zowie is right," I breathed, thankful there were no tears running down my own face.

"He is evil!" Akan cried, clutching Phylyp. "He is truly evil." The two of them practically ran from the chamber.

"Open the patio doors, Taner," Loman ordered as I stared dumbfounded at the ash pile. "It stinks in here. Berkie, call custodial and tell them to come clean this up. Come on lad, let's get this torn blouse off you and some salve on that welt."

Senya climbed down from the window box and docilely followed Loman into the bedroom. He didn't even glance at the ash pile on the floor. Berkie and I joined them a moment later and watched as Loman helped the boy climb into bed.

"Try to get some sleep now," Loman said turning off the light and pulling me toward the door. "Berk, you sleep in that bed across from Senya and Taner will be right here outside the door."

"Daddy, I didn't brush my teeth," Berkan cried.

"Tomorrow, Berkan!" Loman shut the door behind us.

"What the fuck was that?" I gasped. A custodian had arrived and was sweeping up what had been the snake. "Did he, did Senya....how the hell? You're going to let your boy stay in there with him, alone?"

Loman looked tiredly at me. "He won't hurt Berkie. He needs Berkie. He needs a friend."

"How do you know? Maybe he could just conjure up a friend like he did that snake. Blessed Saint, that kid is freaky. You sure, he's the right kid? You sure he's the one who's going to be King of Rehnor?"

"Yes, Taner," Loman nodded, heading to the door along with the custodian. "He's definitely the right boy. Just try not to make him mad."

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# Chapter 9

# Berkan

MY LIFE BEGAN THE NIGHT that Senya entered it. I jumped on a roller coaster that would take me through highs and lows like I could never have imagined.

Senya was the coolest kid alive. He was the Crown Prince, and I was his conduit. He would use my eyes to see and my voice to speak. If he wanted something, I would gladly ask for it, and if he didn't like something, I would happily scorn it. He used me like he had used that black mutt, which had followed him around the streets of Old Mishnah, and I did so without qualm.

I moved into his suite, and we shared a bedroom, sleeping across from each other every night. We were always together, and though we may have gotten on Taner's nerves, I came to love every minute of it. But I wouldn't have, for a moment, traded places with Senya. I was always the luckier of the two of us. After all, I had a mother and father who loved me, and I lived in the Palace by choice. I could go home when I wanted. I wore great clothes, ate incredible food, was privately tutored and lived in the nicest place on Rehnor, and nothing was expected of me other than to be Senya's friend.

"Your job, Berkie," Taner would say. "Is to make Senya happy."

Senya was never happy though. On our first night together, l lay in my bunk trembling as I listened to the thunder raging overhead. I'm not sure what terrified me more, the lightning that periodically lit up our room, Prince Akan who had already beaten Senya to a pulp, or the giant snake that magically appeared at Akan's feet and then burst into flame when Senya waved his hand.

I wanted to go home. I wanted my own bed and the security of knowing my mom and dad were in the next room. In the dark of the night, during the height of the storm, I decided that this palace wasn't so cool after all and I clambered out of my bed and into the living room to find Taner snoring loudly on the sofa.

"Taner!" I pushed him. "Taner!" I tried to shake him.

"Wha? Huh?" He snorted and bolted upright. "Berk? What's going on?"

"I want my mama!" I burst into tears. "Where's my papa?"

"He went to his apartment," Taner said awkwardly patting me on the shoulder. "Is Senya okay?"

"I dunno."

"Is he still there?"

"I dunno."

"Come on," Taner stumbled to his feet. "Let's go check on him." We returned to the bedroom to find Senya sitting in a window box smoking a cigarette. Every time the lightning flashed his weird silver eyes would light up.

"Are you feeling better, kid?" Taner asked, sitting down next to him. "Can I get you anything besides another pack of my cigs?"

He shook his head.

"Are you going to make any more snakes, Senya?" I said. "Cuz snakes, especially big snakes really freak me out."

Taner made a choking noise. "Yeah, they freak me out too. Especially when they come out of thin air."

Senya pretended we weren't there, or maybe he was pretending he wasn't here.

"Can you stay in here with us tonight, Taner?" I asked as yet another bolt of lightning lit up the room.

"Sure." He took my hand and led me back to bed. "Come on, Senya," he called. "You need to get some sleep. You're going to start school in the morning. If your back is hurting, I can give you a pain pill. I just took one myself. I got a nasty cut on my neck and another on my face today. I should get a hazardous duty bonus."

"Conventional analgesics don't work for him," I yawned snuggling down in my pillow.

"What did you just say?"

"I dunno. Tell us a story, Taner, a detective story."

"Not tonight, Berk. I'm too tired. Come on, Senya. Go to bed. I'll lie here on the divan and shoot anyone who walks in the door. That way you won't have to make any more snakes and we'll all be happy."

"Yeah!" I giggled. "But what if it's a maid?"

"I'll shoot her too," Taner replied.

"Don't do that!" I cried as Senya walked over and climbed back into his bed. He lay down and faced the wall, away from us.

"Ok, I won't shoot the maid," Taner said sleepily.

"Just Prince Akan and Lord Phylyp."

"I can't do that, Berk," Taner replied while at the same time, in my head, I felt Senya whispering.

"That's ok. Senya says he's going to kill Phylyp and a human girl is going to use his light sword to kill Akan."

"What did you say?" Taner mumbled. "Berk?"

At this point, I was too sleepy to answer. I closed my eyes. I hadn't a clue what a Human was, but I liked the idea that a girl was going to take Akan out. That would serve him right.

During the night the storm had moved on, and now sunlight streamed into our room. I sat up in bed and rubbed my eyes trying to remember where I was and why. Senya was already in the window box again while Taner snored like a spaceplane on the divan.

I got up and went to stand by Senya looking out the window at the beach. There were lots of people out there pointing at our window, trying to snap pics with long range lenses. They saw me, and a bunch of them waved. I waved back. A cheer went up from the beach.

"This is cool!" I laughed and waved some more. Senya walked away. The people stop waving and cheering. "Hey, come back, Senya. They want to see you."

Senya ignored me and headed to the kitchen.

"I'm hungry," I realized leaving the window. "Let's get something to eat before we have to go to school. It's not fair we have to go to school even when it's summer. I didn't have to do that before."

Senya opened the fridge. I stood next to him and looked at all the bottles and containers inside. There was a fresh chocolate torte, so I decided that was my breakfast. Senya found a carton of eggs and ate them shell and all while he was standing there, just throwing them one after another in his mouth.

"That's gross," I said.

"That cake is gross," he replied, handing me a bottle of milk. We both drank it straight up, no glass or anything. I wiped my face with the back of my hand and belched loudly.

"Let's play a vid game or watch some toons before school," I suggested, heading across the room to the enormous screen. I turned it on, and it was a news show and all the people there were talking about Senya and showing a pic of him all dressed up like he was yesterday. "Look, you're on the vid!"

"So?" He lit a cigarette and sat down on the sofa, putting his feet up on the table. He had really ugly looking toe nails.

"Let's watch you." I turned up the volume.

"He's absolutely gorgeous," a woman was saying. "Can you imagine what he'll look like all grown up?"

"He's absolutely gorgeous," I mimicked the woman. "I think I'm in love! Wait until she sees your feet." I broke into peals of laughter, inadvertently snorting milk out my nose.

"Fuck off, Berkie," Senya sighed and the vid changed channels.

It flipped through about thirty of them until it finally stopped flickering at an old toon I had seen about a million and a half times. I stared at it like I'd never seen it before though. It was a pretty good toon.

"Boys?" Taner came from the bedroom scratching his face. His hair was all messed up, and he looked like he was still half asleep.

"Good morning Taner," I called. "We already had breakfast."

"Yeah, ok," Taner mumbled. "Well go take a bath and get dressed for school. Shit, what am I, your nanny?"

"Senya doesn't like taking a bath, and we don't know what we are supposed to wear," I replied. Both of us were sitting there in boxer shorts from the day before.

"You know what, Senya?" Taner practically shouted. "I've had about two hours sleep and I'm sick and tired of Berkie speaking for you. You've got a mouth, say it yourself! Now both of you get up, wash up and put on whatever is in the closet. Shit!" He rubbed his temples and then his cheek where he had a long cut from when Akan's whip hit him.

"Ok," I said. "I'm going swimming in the giant bathtub," and I raced into the bath where a tub as big as a small swimming pool with a fountain and everything spouted warm water from gold taps.

My dad called me out a short time later and gave me a suit to dress in. I guess living in the Palace meant I had to wear fancy clothes every day. I didn't mind. I had a red bow tie and black onyx cufflinks, and I combed down my white blonde hair until it lay flat. I felt very dapper.

When I was dressed and ready, I joined my dad and Taner in the closet where they were sorting through Senya's clothes. Senya was in the window box again, still in his boxers and looking very unhappy. His back was still red and sore looking. You could see a long line where Akan had whacked him.

"You sure he needs to wear a sash with a tunic too?" Taner was asking, holding up a long piece of shiny gold silk.

"Yes," my dad said huffily, consulting a list. "Tunics and dress coats."

"Maybe we really should have a valet do this," Taner suggested.

"It's not difficult," my dad said. "You can do this. Hell, Berk can do this. Let's keep the number of servants who interact closely with him to a minimum. I just don't know who is loyal to Akan and who is not."

"Ok, Boss," Taner yawned. "So Berk, every day we need to make sure Senya has a sash, dress pants, shoes and socks, tunic only for school and dress coat for everything else."

"And make sure his hair is brushed and tied back. The consensus is that he can keep it long to please the Karuts if it is clean and tied back."

"The Karuts will be happy if Senya has long hair?" I asked. "What about his fingernails? And his toes?" I found this incredibly funny.

"Ok," Taner mumbled, rolling his eyes at me. "The consensus? Do they want him exclusively in boxers or are briefs ok?"

"These aren't my orders, Taner," my dad said. "This is straight from Lord Dickon who discusses everything with the king."

Taner frowned at me as my dad crossed the room to the window box with his arms full of Senya's clothes. Senya let my dad help him get dressed. His eyes flickered against the floor when my dad brushed out his hair and tied the ribbon in it.

"Much easier to run around in filthy rags, huh Senya?" Taner smirked.

"It is far easier to live on the street and be no one," Senya replied, glancing at Taner. My dad stopped brushing his hair.

"What did you say?" Taner narrowed his eyes.

"You spoke Noble Mishnese," my dad declared as if it was a miracle.

"With a weird accent," I added. "Say something else." I tried to mimic him but couldn't get his lilt.

Senya looked at the floor again.

"Where did you learn Noble Mishnese?" my dad demanded. "When?"

Senya wouldn't respond.

"Well at least he's not using Berkie's mouth," Taner said.

"I don't know Noble Mishnese," I replied in my normal voice.

"Well you are not allowed to speak it anyway," my dad said. "Only the Royal Family. Who taught you, Senya?"

Senya shook his head.

"Senya says if you are all going to make such a big deal of it every time he speaks, he's not going to say another word. And nobody taught him. And he doesn't like these scratchy clothes. And his shoes are too tight, and his socks are already ripped. And he doesn't like everybody else deciding how he should dress and what he should look like and if he's evil or not and all those people out on the beach are really bugging him and he just wants to leave and never come back."

"That's enough, Berkan."

I shut up.

"The complaint department is closed today," my father huffed. "Off to your lessons now, both of you."

"Come on guys," Taner said and led us out into the corridor, and into the sunshine. We headed across the buildings. "You'll get used to all this, Senya. You may even start to like it. Beats scrounging for food. And hey, someday, everything you see is going to be yours."

"I see nothing," Senya replied.

Eventually, Senya got used to palace life. I don't think he ever really enjoyed it, certainly not as much as I did. We did work ourselves into a routine though, and we were kept busy enough between school, the ceremonies and audiences, the pressers and the appearances that even if he was unhappy, he had little time to dwell on it.

"Come on boys, come on!" Taner was always yelling at us as we ran down the hallways, late to this appointment or that.

By the time we got to wherever we were meant to be, Senya shoes were untied, his shirt tails untucked, his hair hanging in loose strands around his face and undoubtedly, a forbidden cigarette perched on his lip. Taner tucked him and tied him and snatched the cig away and then sent him off into the throne room or great hall to meet and greet princes and potentates and a never ending parade of eligible young ladies.

I was the first to discover that he could not see. I knew he would want me to focus on things and subconsciously urge me to look at this or that, but it never occurred to me as to why until one dark night in our room when I wanted to light the nightlight.

It was stormy outside, and the surf was pounding high against the shore. It was silly to be scared high in this Palace with Taner just outside the door, but Akan had threatened the both of us again today, popping into our schoolroom and promising we would never see our thirteenth birthdays. Naturally, I was frightened.

"Do you mind if the light is on, Senya?" I had asked, getting up to turn it on.

"No," he scoffed. "Why should I care?"

"Just in case you want to sleep," I offered.

He almost never slept. I would wake up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom or get a sip of water, and he was either in bed with eyes wide open, silver light shining on the ceiling, or off in another room, sitting in the window box pressed to the glass like an animal trapped in a cage. In the beginning he would go wander the beach at night while Taner slept until Taner discovered this and confined him to the suite.

"Turn on whatever you want," he said.

"The light doesn't bother you?"

"Berkie, light, dark, it's all the same to me."

I turned on the light which spread a golden glow across the room. I was still scared.

"Ach, don't be scared, Berkie. Akan isn't going to hurt you."

"How do you know?"

He stuck his head over the side of the bed, and his eyes flashed at me. His long hair hung upside down.

"I know everything," he said.

"You don't!"

"I do."

"You can't even write your own name."

We were tutored together by a team of teachers who specialized in Mishnese, science, mathematics and history. Senya mastered everything they intended for us each day within a matter of minutes. I think he literally sucked the information out of their brains. I struggled through their lectures and exercises while he smoked cigarettes and sat by the windows.

The one thing he couldn't do was write. He could form letters in a very childish way and scrawled them all across the page. He tried to write with his left hand, and I thought he did a better job of it then, but the teachers would snatch the pen away. Left-handedness was a sign of the Devil which didn't bode well when one was directly descended from Karukan the Infidel.

"Can't see the bleedin paper," he said.

"Why not?"

"Can't see anything you idiot," he cried and jumped down. "Come on."

I followed him through Taner's room where he was very loudly snoring on his cot and into our study room. Senya took a piece of paper from his desk and a pen.

"Now look at the paper," he ordered.

"I can't," I cried. "It's pitch black in here. You need to turn on the lights." How was I supposed to see anything with no lights on?

Senya waved his hand, and the lights in the room turned on. He picked up a pen with his left hand, and I looked at the blank paper. He proceeded to write out his name, Sehron de Kudisha. His hand writing wasn't great, but it was definitely better than in class and the letters were in a nice straight line.

"See," he said proudly. "I can do it if you look at the paper for me."

"But I can't go around looking at all your papers, Senya. I got my own papers to look at."

"Yeah, I guess so," he sighed, "come on." He jumped up again.

Like thieves, we snuck out of the suite and into the corridor. I think it was about two in the morning, and with the storm overhead, the Palace hallways and the massive courtyard were dark and empty. Wind and rain pummeled the courtyard and hid our footsteps. The air was warm as it was still late summer, so we weren't cold even though we were dressed only in pajamas.

"Where are we going?" I whispered.

"The tubes," Senya whispered back, and I giggled nervously. I had no idea what the tubes were.

We walked across the entire length of the Palace to the far south end where all the servants' quarters and the kitchens were. I was getting wet from the blowing rain, and frankly, I was tired being that it was the middle of the night. Nevertheless, I followed Senya down three stories of servant stair cases and out a back door.

"How do you know about these places?" I asked, but he just hissed at me to be quiet.

We crept along the massive south wall of the building, nearly back to the highway.

"Well if it ain't the Karut," someone said in Street Mishnese.

The man was leaning against the side of the building next to a large hole from which water was pouring out. Above us were several other large holes and further down the building were at least three more. Water was cascading out of all of them. There were six or eight men sitting or leaning against the side of the building smoking or trying to sleep in the rain.

"Where ye been, Karut?" The man said and looked me over. He reached out his hand and touched my hair." "Oos yer frien?"

"Leave 'im be," Senya said. "Come on, Berk."

I tried to follow, but another man came and grabbed me, wrapping his arm around my neck and pulling me against him.

"Oooo, yer nice and young," he hissed and both those guys started laughing.

They both also smelled really bad. I got really scared and I think I even started to cry but then the guy holding me dropped his arm and started to scream. A knife was lodged right in his forearm and blood gushed out of the wound. I started to scream too and scampered behind Senya. Senya's silver eyes glowed, and he held out his hand. The knife flew into it.

"Fuck you, Karut," the second guy yelled and he jumped at Senya.

I closed my eyes expecting to be knocked over at any second, but then the second guy screamed even louder. He started gasping and making choking noises, and I could smell a lot of blood. I peeked my eyes open and screamed even more because Senya's knife was in the second guy's neck. The guy fell down on the ground and twisted there, spraying blood everywhere until he started choking up blood and then he just stopped, his eyes wide open.

"Ye killed 'im Karut!" the first guy yelled. Senya held out his hand, and his knife flew back into it again. He wiped it off on his pant leg.

"Ye killed me mate and sliced me arm, Karut," the man wept clutching his arm as the blood continued to drip on to the wet sand.

Senya shrugged. "Come on," he said to me and climbed into the tube.

I scrambled after him anxious to get away from the dead and bleeding guys. I really wanted to go back to our room or even better, back home. I had failed my primary responsibility which was to keep Senya from knifing anyone and on top of that he killed a guy!

"How could you do that, Senya?" I cried.

"Fuck it, Berkie!" Senya snapped at me, so I continued to crawl behind him all the way back as far as the tube extended with the warm water pushing us and splashing us in the face.

When we reached the vertical conduit which poured like a waterfall, Senya turned to me and grabbed my shirt pulling my face up to his.

"Listen to me. Sometimes, I'm gonna be doing things ye dun't like nor understand. I dun't need ye telling me what's right nor wrong. Ye wanna 'ang with me and pretend yer a prince, then ye keep yer mouth shut. Ye got that, Berkan?"

"Yes, Senya," I nodded, water dousing my hair and face. I felt a little bit like I was drowning.

"Good," he said and then he sat down and shoved off, sliding down the tube as if we were at a water park, his laughter echoing all the way down the bottom.

I followed, tumbling out of the tube and into the sand a moment later. The dead man and all the rest of the street people were gone.

"That was great," I cried and again we climbed back in.

We slid in the tubes for hours until the storm had ended and the sunrise was making colorful lines across the sky and the Palace was on full alert for the missing boys.

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# Chapter 10

# Taner

BERKAN WAS SENT HOME. I was given a week without pay. Senya was flogged. In the central courtyard in front of any and all who cared to watch he was given six lashes with a horse whip. Loman was outraged, but it was the King's decision and there was nothing that could have been done. Senya had disobeyed direct orders to stay in his room at night. He had left the Palace walls without the accompaniment of guard, and he had not only sliced up the arm of a transient but killed another.

"Why did you do that?" Loman screamed at the boy before taking him for his punishment. "How could you?"

The boy just flashed his silver eyes impassively back at Loman.

"You can't just kill anyone that bothers you!"

Senya was also implanted with a tracking chip. It was put in his upper left bicep next to his identity chip. Akan had lobbied long and hard for a control chip too, but the King, at least for now, would not have it.

That next week was exceedingly difficult without Berkan and with Senya confined to apartments. Senya was sore physically and did little more than lay around on his bunk. He refused to speak with anyone, even me. I was dying of boredom and frustration one afternoon when I received a text.

"Meet me outside the Clock Tower in New Mishnah at 1700 today - Tuman de Kudisha."

The Clock Tower was a brand new shopping mall in New Mishnah that featured an enormous clock tower at the front of the complex. Tuman de Kudisha, I knew, was one of the Karupta princes, the youngest which made him my age. Curiosity overwhelmed me, so I arranged for guard relief and checked out a speeder. I wasn't worried about Senya. Like I said, he hadn't moved from his bunk all week.

At just before 5PM, I parked the speeder and walked to the Clock Tower. It was a brilliantly sunny day, one of the best summer in Mishnah had to offer. The sun was hanging low over the mountains, and the sky was ablaze with color. The Palace glowed pink on the horizon, out by the ocean.

I picked up an iced coffee at a kiosk and stood in front of the Clock Tower for a few moments enjoying the view. Two small boys in swimsuits and wet towels passed in front of me.

"That was so cool!" one of them said as their mom followed behind with a little girl wrapped in her towel.

She smiled at me, and I smiled back at her when a limo pulled up in front of me. The passenger door flew open, and a hand beckoned me inside. I slid in on the smooth leather seats. Up until a month ago, I had never ridden in a limo. Now it was my primary means of transportation.

I boarded the limo and was surprised to discover Prince Tuman along with his brother.

"Taner, I am Tuman." The man across from me extended his hand and shook my own, something I could never imagine doing with a prince of Mishnah. Tuman was a large man and strongly built, with thick black hair that hung in plaits next to golden hued skin.

"Your Royal Highness," I replied and offered my hand to his brother, as well.

"Pedah de Kudisha," the second man said as we shook. Pedah like his brother had long legs that stretched across the limo but seemed slighter, if by only a little bit. His hair was cut short and while straight, stood up in a tuft at the back as if he suffered a cowlick. He bore a thin mustache and goatee and wore thick wire rimmed glasses that look almost comically at odds with his traditional Karupta clothing. Never the less, the two were obviously brothers and obviously closely related to Senya for the resemblance was strong enough between the three of them that the boy could have been sired by either one.

"You may call us by our names," Tuman said with a bit of a laugh. "We are much less pretentious in Karupatani." He waved at the driver to take off, and we swept up and out of New Mishnah before soaring over the mountains.

"So tell us how our nephew doing?" Pedah leaned back in the cushions and stroked his small beard, gazing at me with eyes so dark they were nearly black.

I chuckled nervously and glanced from one to the other brother. I read no hostility in their expressions, only curiosity, yet I wondered if I had made a mistake by joining them here. I was virtually indefensible in their speeder and at odds with my own king who chose not to share any information with them.

The brothers smiled at my hesitation.

"Are either of you by chance telepathic?" I asked noting the knowing glance that passed between them.

"Not at all," Tuman replied. "Why do you ask?"

"You seem to know already."

Pedah nodded. "We have a suspicion. The MaKennah is a bit of a challenge, is he?"

"An understatement if there ever was one," I sighed. "Have you ever met Senya?"

"We have not yet been so fortunate," Tuman replied. "We know a little of the MaKennah from your press, but not even our father has been granted an audience. Your king provides us with precious little information and no opportunity."

The limo was high over the mountains now. I saw the western ocean in the distance and beyond that was the continent of Karupatani.

"You will be back in Mishnah within the hour." Pedah followed my gaze. "We are only going for a scenic drive. Have you ever seen our country?"

"No. I was stationed briefly in Farku on the west coast but have never crossed the ocean."

"I went to school in Farku," Pedah said, once again stroking his beard. "The University. That's where I received my doctorate."

Tuman rolled his eyes. "I went to school there too, but all I learned was to speak Mishnese and use a fork. They didn't give me any diplomas for this."

"Perhaps you did not master it well enough," Pedah smirked. "Both your Mishnese and your skills with a fork are lacking. Don't you think so, Taner?"

"His Mishnese sounds fine to me," I replied. "Certainly better than Senya's."

Both brothers leaned forward hungrily as if I were feeding them with bits of gossip.

I finished my coffee, which I had almost forgotten was still in my hand, and stared out the window as we flew over the ocean following the sun.

"The MaKennah?" Tuman prompted.

"He's pretty miserable," I replied, my tongue loosening. "Berkie, Loman's boy, lives with us, and that helps, but Senya still seems very depressed. He spends an inordinate amount of time sitting next to the window as if he was locked in a cage. He goes out of his way to break every rule and can go for days without speaking a word to anyone."

The brothers exchanged glances again. I wondered if I had said too much.

"Does he get along with his grandfather, your king?" Pedah asked.

"No. Well, I think he's okay with the King although he bristles at anything the King suggests whether it's his clothing or what he should or shouldn't be eating or how he speaks. Senya has a very thick street lilt that seems to come through even when he's speaking the Noble Mishnese."

"What of his grandmother and uncle?" Pedah prompted.

"The Queen has absolutely no interest in him and won't even acknowledge him as her grandson. As for Akan, to put it bluntly, the Prince despises him and is doing everything possible to make Senya even more miserable."

Tuman nodded. Pedah stroked his beard. We were above the Karupatani continent now and flying in a valley following the course of a river. The trees were tall and evergreen, and the river was a deep rich blue.

"He is extremely intelligent," I continued. "I mean probably on the scale of a genius or something. He has never had any formal education, yet his tutors say that he picks up everything instantly. He knows things that a normal kid his age couldn't possibly know. He does things that nobody could possibly do."

Tuman nodded again.

"Such as?" Pedah's dark eyes seemed to pierce my own.

I shrugged and stared out the window reminding myself of Senya. On one hand, I didn't think I should be revealing too much, but on the other, it was relieving me of a great burden to share Senya with his uncles.

"Senya knows the future, the past. He'll tell me what I will do before I do it. He'll turn to us suddenly and speak about an event that will happen years from now."

"Fascinating," Pedah mused.

"What else?" Tuman asked.

"He knows your thoughts, he can direct your thoughts, he can move things, he can change things, create stuff from nothing."

"What sort of stuff?"

"Fire. Snakes. I don't know." I shivered involuntarily, recalling the smell of the burnt snake.

"He can be violent too. He killed a guy outside the Palace last week because he grabbed Berkie. It didn't even faze Senya. Stuck a knife in a man's throat. Probably wasn't the first time he had done something like that." I swallowed hard and look out the window. The valley had opened up into a vast area of farmland, pastures, gentle rolling hills and a village. "He does all this, and he can't even see."

Both Pedah and Tuman's eyebrows flew upward.

"He can't see what?"

"Anything. He can't see anything. Those weird silver eyes are just for show because they don't work. He sees by reading your mind. Berkie's his conduit right now. Whatever Senya wants to see, Berkie looks at. Shit, this kid is scary." I rubbed my temples and looked at the princes. "Does this make any sense to you? Is there some Karupta legend or something that maybe explains how he can do all this, be like this? I'd really like to know how I'm supposed to protect him when I'm scared shitless of him myself."

Tuman pursed his lips and looked at his brother. Pedah stroked his beard and started to hum.

After a moment, when neither of them said anything, I sat back in my seat and sighed. "Just forget it," I said. "I'll deal with it. I'll figure it out."

Tuman looked out the window and pointed at the village below.

"This is our home," he said. "Over there is a landing strip. You have my number. Send me a text and tell me when you are coming."

We soared up over the mountains and across the rest of the continent.

"You think I should bring him to you?"

"We have much to teach him."

"He already knows bloody everything," I snapped.

"Ay yah," Tuman said. "You Mishaks have taught him well to trust no one, to kill before they may kill you."

I stared at Tuman, unable to respond.

"We do not wish to insult you, Taner." Pedah continued. "You are doing an admirable job with him. Were you not, he would have probably killed you by now. Perhaps you are even destined for a high office in the future if you continue to earn his trust. There will come a time though when you can no longer protect him from Prince Akan and then you must bring him to us."

"I can protect him," I said.

"He has left the Palace without you."

"He was punished soundly for that. So was I. He won't do it again."

"Won't he?"

"We have him chipped now."

Pedah considered this.

"He is the MaKennah ka Rehnor," Pedah said carefully. "Not the family dog."

We were approaching the coast of Mishnah. The sun had set and the Palace was a lighted beacon in the darkness.

"He is too much for you, Taner my friend." Pedah said as we glided down into New Mishnah. "He needs to be with us."

"We'll see about that," I replied getting out of the limo.

When I returned to the palace, I discovered that all hell had broken loose.

"So somehow he gets past your relief guard," Loman said from behind his desk. I was standing in front trying very hard not to squirm. Loman's face was purple, and he had at least four candy bar wrappers on his desk. "And he disappears into the forest." The forest was about twenty acres of undeveloped land on the north side of the Palace. "We've got him chipped now of course so it should be no problem to find him. I send two teams out with their GPS readers, and we've got a strong signal. Except that, get this, he's up in a tree. And, get this Taner, the base of the tree is not growing from the ground. Nope. This particular tree base is halfway down the side of the cliff. There's a huge chasm and a river that runs through the center of the forest and this particular tree happens to be located there."

Loman opened another candy bar. "I can't even begin to imagine how he possibly got up there. Or even across the bloody chasm. Does he fly, Taner? Have you noticed maybe that he can grow wings and fly?"

"No, sir," I said quietly. "Not that I have noticed." But with Senya, I didn't add, anything was possible.

Loman pounded the desk. "Shall I tell you what happened next?"

I nodded.

"Our teams were on the opposite side of the chasm yelling at the boy to come down when surprise, surprise, a team from Akan's personal security force decide to join them. They announce that the Prince is demanding that the MaKennah be brought to him immediately, and they are to stop at nothing to do so."

"Blessed Saint," I mumbled. "Is Senya okay?"

"No," Loman snapped. "He's not okay. He's in the hospital now with a broken arm, broken rib and a fair amount of bumps and bruises. Fortunately, that's all he's got after falling Saint knows how far down the chasm. That was after one of Akan's goons shot him in the arm."

"Blessed Saint!" I nearly fell off my feet. "He fell down the chasm?"

Loman shook his head and sort of laughed.

"Two of my men insist that he grew wings and flew down. That's why he wasn't killed. Blessed Saint, I could use a drink."

"What happened with Akan's goon? The one who shot him?"

"He's in the brig. Akan is insisting it was an accident, but the King isn't buying it."

"Good," I nodded. "Guess I'll head to the hospital now."

"Glued to his side, Taner," Loman ordered. "No relief. Not until I can vet a few more guards. Where were you anyway?"

"Princes Tuman and Pedah de Kudisha wanted to speak with me," I said.

Loman eyed me carefully.

"And?"

"You know what they want," I replied.

Loman nodded and looked out the window.

"Not yet," he said.

"Guess what, Senya," I said.

He was propped up in bed in the hospital wing of the Palace. He was in one of the rooms reserved for the Royal family, and it was decked out as nice as his apartments except for the monitors beeping overhead and the adjustable bed. He had his right arm in a sling, and his face was black, blue and yellow. The doctors had wanted to put a brace around his midsection, but because of the lashing only a few days ago, they didn't want to inhibit the welts on his back from healing. Instead, he had to stay pretty much immobile. He didn't respond to my voice, but I was pretty sure he was not asleep even though his eyes were closed.

"When you get better I'll take you and Berkie to the new water park at the Clock Tower mall."

No response.

I sat down in the chair next to the bed.

"But you're going to have to improve your behavior. I mean, I'm going to need to get the King's permission to take you out, and we're probably going to have to close the water park for security purposes, so it's going to be a big deal. So, in order to do that, I'm going to need a little cooperation on your part. Do you think you can do that?"

Still no response.

"You know, our track record is not too good right now," I continued. "We've been here at the Palace now for what? Six weeks? And in that time, you've been introduced to the planet, met lots of eligible young ladies, and threatened Prince Akan how many times? Got flogged twice, got shot once, broke an arm and a rib and now earned yourself an extended stay in the hospital wing. Let's make a deal. You be good for the next six weeks. Don't get shot. Don't get flogged. Don't make the King or Akan or anyone angry, don't run off, don't kill anybody and I'll take you guys to the water park."

"I told ye Akan would 'ave me shot and 'ye dun't do shit."

"I was visiting with your uncles Pedah and Tuman. I'm sorry. It won't happen again."

"Yeah it will and ye won't do shit then either."

"I'm doing my best, Senya, but you've got to help me out too. You can't go breaking all the rules. Come on. Be good and I promise I'll take you to the water park."

He sat silently for a moment.

"Can we go and not close the park? I dun't like every'un always makin a big deal 'bout me."

"I understand, kid. Maybe we can. I'll talk to Captain Loman and see what we can do. Maybe I can get you some dark sunglasses and how about a red wig?"

He didn't think this was funny.

"I could get you a hat," I offered. "Would you want to wear a hat on the water slides?"

"No."

"Well, we'll figure something out. But, you've got to behave."

"I wasn't doing anything bad, Taner. I just needed to be outside."

"I know, kid. But you've got to take me with you. That's the rules."

"I can't take you. You can't go where I want to go."

"To the top of a tree?"

No response.

"How'd you get up there anyway? Rumors are floating around now that on top of everything else, you can grow wings and fly." I chuckled.

No response.

"You can't, can you? Senya?"

He opened his eyes slightly. They weren't as bright as usual but still shone in my face. He held out his good left arm and handed me a feather. It was long and black with a white tip.

"You are one strange dude, Senya," I said stroking the feather.

"I know," he agreed.

Senya was released from the hospital a few days later and other than having his arm cast and in a sling, looked remarkably well considering all that he had gone through in the last few weeks.

For a while, he was very well behaved although exceedingly quiet. Berkie was allowed to come back, and we returned to our busy routine. The boys were polite and studious, always on time and properly attired.

Senya, to the King's utter astonishment and pleasure became the model prince, performing his limited duties and granting audiences as if he was raised in the Palace for the last twelve years rather than twelve weeks. As promised, I took Senya and Berkie to the new waterpark the last warm autumn week before winter. With the King's permission, a dozen additional undercover body guards, dark sunglasses, a Mishnese Raven's football jersey and swimsuit, and his arm still in a sling, Senya left the Palace for the first time in nearly three months.

The boys had a raucous time at the park enjoying the waterslides immensely. I was nervous wreck. Even with the sunglasses and football jersey, it was pretty obvious who Senya was. After all, his face had been plastered all over the news these last few months. Anyone who attempted to get near to him or tried to speak to him was quickly surrounded or ushered away by our team. Cameras were everywhere, and everyone who could was snapping photos and making vids. Everyone else stared. They stared at me, they stared at Berkie and especially they stared at Senya. They moved out of the way and some knelt when we walked by. They stood immobile in their queues, which prompted Berkie to pull Senya past them all to the head of every line. Berkie thought it was great. Even Senya seemed to be having a good time. He laughed with Berkie and smiled once or twice.

After several hours of getting wet, corn dogs, milkshakes, cotton candy and funnel cakes, Berkie insisted we go into the adjacent amusement park and play the carnival games. Money was no object for Berkie for the first time in his life, and he was determined to try everything even if all he won in return was a stuffed bear. Senya wasn't interested in tossing bean bags or balls at over-weighted milk bottles. He stood with Berkie and encouraged him but would not try anything himself. As in the water park, as soon as we approached a booth, the crowd backed off.

We had almost finished our day at the park, the sky had turned to a dusky purple, and even Berkie was getting tired when we approached a booth with a substantial crowd.

"I haven't done this one before," Berkie cried pulling Senya towards the game. "This must be a new one."

The crowd parted for the boys to reveal a game called, Sink the Karut. It consisted of a mock-up of none other than Senya sitting in a boat. The object of the game was to throw an oblong ball through a series of hoops. You had three chances, and if you made it through all three times, the boat would sink, and Senya would tip over into the water. You would also win a bear.

"Oh," Berkie said when he realized what the game was about. "I don't want to do this one."

"I'll do it," Senya said, and he stepped forward and put a coin down on the counter. The carney running the booth looked at him and all color drained from his face.

"I dinn't make the game, Sir," the carney said. "Me boss just tol' me to run it."

"Gimme the ball, eh?" Senya held out his hand.

The carney hesitantly held out the first ball. Senya tossed it through the first series of hoops. The boat lurched downward. The second ball soared through the next series of hoops and the boat went further. The crowd behind us cheered. The last ball was just as accurate even though the hoops were smaller and further apart. The boat sunk, the effigy of Senya tipped into the water, and the crowd went wild.

"Great job, Senya," Berkie cried. Senya smiled shyly. He started to walk away.

"Ey!" the carney called. "Ey, Sir? Ye won this bear, eh?" and held out a giant stuffed bear. "Ye gets the big un. No un ever sunk the boat afore."

Berkie grabbed the bear which was nearly as big as he was and handed it to Senya.

"What's it for?" Senya asked.

"For nothing," Berkie replied. "It's just nice. Girls like them."

Senya nodded. He took the bear from Berkie and walked back through the crowd until he found a girl about his own age and put the bear down in front of her. The girl's mouth fell open, and her eyes grew wide, but she enveloped the bear in her arms. Her mother fell to her knees and gazed up at Senya adoringly.

"Thank you, Sir," the girl whispered and Senya smiled slightly, his silver eyes shining in her face.

Cameras snapped, and within moments the image of Senya, the girl hugging the giant stuffed bear while gazing at Senya as if he was a god, and the awestruck mother staring in the same way, were broadcast across the planet. By the time we returned exhausted to the Palace that evening, Senya with his arm in a sling and wearing the Raven's jersey, had become the pin-up heartthrob of every preteen girl on this Rehnor.

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# Chapter 11

# Mariya

MY COUSIN, LYDIA WAS said to be the most beautiful girl in all of Mishnah. At one time, when I was in my teens and Lydia gone only fourteen years, I was said to resemble her. Perhaps, it was our common blood, or simply the fact that we were both slight and blond.

Though I called Lydia cousin, it was a distant relationship and Lydia was the Princess Royal while I was nothing more than a Lady and that only because my father was raised when he became Lord Governor of the prison colonies. My mother was always a Lady, being the daughter of an earl, and through her familial ties to the Queen's family. And, never did Mother cease to remind my father of her superior blood.

I was raised in New Mishnah in a boarding school with other ladies of similar background and disposition. We were taught nothing practical as all that was expected of us was to marry someone of sufficient breeding and continue the process of bearing and raising children of superior blood. However, there lived within us the small fear that our blood should be superior enough to suffer the fate of Cousin Lydia whose tale was a legend among us.

Poor Cousin Lydia, the Princess Royal, was tethered to none other than Sorkan de Kudisha. How dreadful it must have been for her, at the tender age of sixteen, the most beautiful and clearly the most superior young lady in the entire planet, to have been forced into marriage with a Karut. Never mind that Sorkan de Kudisha was the Crown Prince of Karuptani and never mind he was exceedingly handsome, with long black hair and black eyes of fathomless depth. Well over six foot tall and built like the warrior he was, he dwarfed tiny Lydia. And, he despised her as much as she despised him. What a thrill it was for us prepubescent girls to whisper at night about that dreadful man. And what a thrill it was for us post pubescent girls to dream at night about him coming to our beds.

Sorkan de Kudisha was a terrible rogue and even on the day of his wedding, a magnanimous state affair, was said to have spent the time leading up to it in bed with a multitude of ladies both Mishnese and Karupta. He was also from thence forth a drunk and was rarely seen in any frame resembling sobriety.

Sorkan and Lydia, the prodigy of kings, were mated so that they in turn would produce a son. This son was to be King of All Rehnor and because the blood of both nations ran through his veins, never again would we suffer the wars that had plagued our planet since it was settled a thousand years ago. Our prince was to be the only direct descendent of the Mishnese Saint, Markiis Kalila and the Karupta Infidel, Karukan de Kudisha.

Lydia and Sorkan did manage to do the deed on their wedding night, and Lydia did immediately become pregnant. She delivered the infant into the hands of her father King Yokaa Kalila, six weeks before his expected arrival, and while everyone was struck dumb by this very strange creature that was destined to become their monarch, Lydia bled out through wounds said to have been caused by the claw-like toenails of the baby. Thus ended the tragic tale of the Princess Royal, only moments after the even more tragic tale of her son, the MaKennah ka Rehnor, had begun.

Of no consequence at all, I was born two months later to my mother, Lydia's third cousin, thrice removed. I was born in the hospital wing of the penal colony residing on the Child Moon, of which my father had only recently taken over the governorship. Unlike her cousin, my mother was genuinely glad to see me and did not die upon my arrival. Had she wanted to, it would have been easy. She simply would have to open an exterior door and step outside without a moon suit.

My parents heralded my arrival with grand announcements throughout the colony, granted one half days rest to all prisoners and issued email alerts to all family members far and wide including the Palace which was still very much in mourning for the loss of Lydia and the infant.

I grew up a relatively happy child although my parents had long ceased to care for each other. My father doted on me intensely and granted me every wish while my mother doted on the various young prisoners who guarded our home. The more handsome they were, the closer they were posted to her bedchamber.

At the age of eight, I was sent to aforementioned boarding school visiting the Child Moon only twice a year, on Saint's Day and my birthday.

Shortly before my twelfth birthday I was woken well before dawn by my mother. "Oh Mariya," she cried loud enough to wake my roommates in the neighboring beds. "The most incredible thing has happened. The Crown Prince has been found!"

I rubbed my sleepy eyes and glanced at my roommates who could hear every word. What did she mean? The Crown Prince was dead. We all knew that.

"No, no, no!" she cried. "That's not the case at all. Dear uncle, King Yokaa, only told everyone the child was dead so that he could spirit him away from the awful Karuts and raise him solely in Mishnah." With Lydia dead, she went on to explain, the Karut prince would have been his only surviving parent so of course, he would be unduly influenced. King Yokaa had apparently sent the child away to live with a Mishnese family, but something happened, and he was lost but now he was found. "Turn on the vid," Mother practically screamed. "You'll see him on the vid now. Oh, Mariya, this could be the most fortunate, wondrous thing to happen to you. You are his own blood cousin. You could be his wife, Mariya! You could be Queen."

My roommates started to giggle as I signed off on my mother and quickly switched on the vid.

There before our very eyes was the MaKennah ka Rehnor. He was standing awkwardly with the King on the balcony of the Palace looking about as miserable as any twelve year old in a dress uniform could look. The King was waving and smiling at the cheering crowds while the MaKennah remained stone faced.

"Look at him," Leesa said. "There's your future husband, Mariya." She burst into giggles.

"He looks just like an ugly Karut," Patti said. "He doesn't look Mishnese at all."

I zoomed the vid in on a close up and could not but agree. True, he was much fairer skinned than the Karuts. In fact, he was very pale, but he still had the long black hair and the face of Prince Sorkan. One would not mistake him for a Mishnese. Curiously enough, his eyes were closed as if he were pretending not to be there

"Oh, he's so creepy!" Leesa said.

"Ugly!" Patti agreed.

"He is our next king," I reminded them and jointly we cried, "Ewww!"

I saw Sehron de Kudisha in person a few months later. Myself, and all the other ladies of blood between the ages of ten and twenty were paraded before him in a giant cattle call at the Palace. My mother had acquired for me a beautiful new gown that had a substantially padded bust to enhance and lift my own not so substantial bust, and she had personally come to the planet to do my hair and chaperone me to the Palace.

We were herded in groups into a great ballroom and then individually walked up to the dais where the boy was standing next to the King. We made obeisance to the King and curtseyed to the Crown Prince, and our names were announced, and then we were quickly ushered away to make room for the next group.

"Did he speak to you, Mariya?" My mother immediately seized upon me as I exited the ballroom. "Did you tell him you are his cousin?"

"No, Mother," I replied, taking the aching pins out of my hair.

I was one of probably two thousand girls paraded before him that day, and he did not speak to any of us. In fact he stood there practically catatonic, looking as miserable or more so than he did on the first day we saw him on the balcony.

I could say, although I did not repeat it to my mother nor any of my roommates, I found him far more appealing than on that first day. Though he did look very much a Karut and his silver eyes were even creepier in person than on the vid, he was also incredibly beautiful. In fact, I knew as we drove away from the Palace that night, I would spend many future nights curled in my bed dreaming of the day that I might suffer the fate of my cousin Lydia and be mated to this Karut. I wouldn't suffer it though. I would love him passionately for every moment of my life.

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# Chapter 12

# Taner

I WAS READING A BOOK in the living room one evening, lamenting my lack of a social life that did not include twelve year old boys, when Berkie came out of the bedroom.

"I'm gonna throw up," he announced and ran into the bathroom. I followed him and stood for a moment while he heaved everything in his stomach into the toilet. I wasn't sure what else to do other than wet a cloth and wash his face.

"I want my mum," he said.

"Ok," I replied. "Why don't we get you back to bed and I'll ring your mum to come over now."

"I don't want to go back in there," he said, pointing at the bedroom.

I gazed at the bedroom door. Senya had been so good these last few months. I had a sick feeling it was all about to end. "Is Senya in there?"

Berkie shook his head no.

"Ok," I replied and settled him on the sofa with a blanket. I rang Loman and told him to come get his son and asked for backup. Then I went into the bedroom. No, Senya was definitely not in his bed. No problem, he was chipped now, right?

Loman came in with a transponder and two of our guards.

"He's in the bedroom," Loman said, reading the screen.

"He's not," I replied. "I was just there."

"The chip's in the bedroom," Berkie whispered.

Loman and I raced back into the bedroom with the transponder only to discover that a very bloody wet chip was sitting on the window ledge.

"Berkan!" Loman hollered. "How did this get here?"

Berkie stood in the doorway pale as a ghost and looking like he was about to throw up all over again.

"He took it out." Berkie burst into tears. "With a blade."

"Blessed Saint," Loman mumbled.

I looked out the window at the dark beach. The Child Moon had risen, and the sky was full of stars. Without the transponder, finding Senya in the forest, assuming he went that direction, would be nearly impossible. Of course, finding him back in Old Mishnah might be even more difficult.

"Why'd he do it, Berkie?" I asked, walking him back to the sofa.

"Where'd he get the knife?" Loman demanded.

Berkie shrugged. "From nowhere," he sniffed. "The same nowhere that he gets all the stuff he wants."

"Did he say where he was going?" I asked.

Berkie shrugged again. "He said he was hungry."

"Didn't you guys just have pizza an hour ago?"

"He didn't want pizza," Berkie replied and then took a big gulp of air. "He said he needed something fresh."

"Fresh?" Loman said.

"He said I wouldn't like it, so I wasn't to come with him."

"Fresh like alive?" I asked. "And bloody?"

Berkie shrugged again. "Can I go back to bed now? Will you take that thing away?" He pointed at the chip.

"Go back to bed," Loman agreed and I wrapped the chip in a handkerchief while he tucked his son in.

Loman and I and the two other guards prepared to head out. It was clear but bitterly cold as we were in the midst of winter, a few weeks from the cusp of spring. I grabbed my jacket, torch and cell.

"Where would he go?" Loman asked as we walked down the stairs to the beach. "If he was looking for something fresh, it wouldn't be Old Mishnah, more likely the forest."

I shone my torch on the sand, fruitlessly searching for footprints. Senya most likely was barefoot as even in the best of circumstances, it was difficult to keep shoes on him.

An owl hooted overhead, and I turned my torch on it. It scampered off into the forest hunting for something.

"Owl?" One of the guards smirked. "A little tough but fresh meat."

The other guard laughed. "I wouldn't put it past that Karut to rip the bloody sucker apart with his fangs."

"That's enough," Loman snapped, but their chattered triggered something in me, and I instantly knew where Senya had gone.

"The King took Senya to see his falcons the other day," I announced turning around and heading back toward the Palace.

"I know," Loman replied. "His Majesty wanted to see if the sport was of interest to him."

"The birds didn't like Senya." I quickened my pace. "They started screeching as soon as he came near even though they were hooded. The King took out his bird and tried to slip him off, but the bird wouldn't go. He refused to budge from the King's arm, and when the King tried to hand him off to Senya, the bird went hysterical."

"What are you thinking, Taner?" Loman huffed as he kept pace with me, white clouds of breath billowing from his mouth.

"I am thinking we need to head to the aviary." I began to run.

"What the hell do you think you are doing?" Loman screamed and yanked the boy to his feet. The King's prized peregrine and Akan's goshawk were mangled messes of feathers and torn flesh. Senya's face was smeared with blood. One of the guards was sick.

"Don't," I shouted at Loman as he raised his hand to smack the boy even though I was very nearly sick myself. "He's not yours to hit."

Loman glared at me. "You don't know anything," he said and then turned back to Senya. "What in the hell is wrong with you? He smacked Senya against the side of his head which sent the boy flying half way across the aviary. "Stupid fool!"

The birds in their cages went wild, screaming and hissing. Senya eyes flashed like a laser and then, so help me, he was gone. There was a rustle of what sounded like wings and wind as if something flew overhead, but between the darkness and the noise of the birds, I couldn't make heads or tails out of what was happening. The guards ran forward to where Senya had been, and Loman ran to the back exit while I left from the front. There was a huge bird circling in the dark sky above us.

"Eagle?" A guard said.

The creature screeched and tore off into the night sky.

Senya was sitting on the beach steps the next morning in his filthy pajamas with bare feet even though it was subfreezing temperatures. He had a nasty bruise on his cheek from where Loman had smacked him. He was smoking a cigarette when I found him and his eyes were glowing. I threw a cloak over his shoulders and sat down beside him.

"You're in big trouble," I said.

He shrugged and blew a ring of grey smoke into the air.

"Was it worth it?"

He shrugged again. "Maybe."

"You're going to get flogged again, you know. The King has already sentenced you to six lashes this time even though Akan lobbied for twenty."

He didn't respond.

"I need to take you to the infirmary so the doctor can see if you've got an infection from cutting out the chip. Then I need to take you for your punishment."

"I dun't 'ave no infection."

"You know that? You are a doctor or something?"

"Yeah," he smiled and tossed the cig into the sand. "A doctor or something."

He got up and started to head up the stairs.

"You stoned?" I asked. His gait was a little wobbly, and he was too happy considering what was about to happen. "You do a little Horkin before you came back?"

"Sure, Taner", he laughed. "Might as well enjoy me flogging, eh?"

Berkan went home for good. Senya was now considered a bad influence on the boy, and neither Loman nor Rucia wanted him around. Berkie cried like a baby, but Senya was nonplussed. Of course, he was very sore and didn't get out of bed for nearly a week, so Berkie's predicament was hardly the top of Senya's concerns.

The next few weeks were relatively quiet although I have to say I was truly worn out by the time Saint's Day approached and the start of the spring. Working twenty-four seven even if it was just babysitting was exhausting and I began to feel like my whole youth was going to be wasted. I had a girlfriend for a time before I was placed on this assignment, but once Senya became my life, she left for more available pastures.

In my exhaustion, I had a tendency to snap at Senya more than I should have. I'm sure he believed he brought out the nastiness in everyone after having been threatened by Akan many times in the last year, slapped around by Loman, flogged by the King and then yelled at by me. His self-esteem was undoubtedly in negative territory. I apologized profusely after I yelled at him, but he would just shrug it off.

Despite that, we had no more incidents of live bird eating, and for the most part his behavior was under control. He was still tutored daily and often dined with the King or stood beside the throne at ceremonies and events. He grew about a foot while living with us, and the King made sure there was plenty of press coverage so that every young girl could stare dreamy-eyed at his image whenever they wanted to.

The King announced that Senya would attend the Saint's Day service at one of the largest churches in the country in the city of Kirila. This was something a member of the Royal Family did every year and this year the King had decided that Senya was capable and old enough to make his first public appearance outside of the Palace. I would accompany him of course along with about a dozen guards.

Senya's task was very simple. He need simply walk up the aisle to the dais, make obeisance before the icon of the Saint, kiss the icon and then he may take a seat on the dais while the priests conducted the rest of the service. I didn't realize that nobody had told him what to do ahead of time. This was one of the first occasions that I was told to wear a Chamberlain's robe and medallion, and I was very excited and probably spent more time attending to myself than to him.

I had stared at myself in the mirror far too long that morning imagining myself Lord Chamberlain of all of Rehnor when Senya became king. It was a heady feeling, and I wondered if Loman had known this would be my destiny when selecting me to find Senya out on the streets.

Of course, Akan might be successful and kill Senya long before that happened and then I would probably be killed too, but I didn't want to think about that. It was Saint's Day, and I was now a high ranking member of the Palace staff, and tonight there would be an incredible party to celebrate the occasion. First, we had to get through the ceremony.

As we entered the church, Senya turned to me and asked what this was all about.

"It's the Saint's Day celebration," I whispered. "It happens every year. We give thanks to the Saint for saving us on Rozari and bringing us to Rehnor. Haven't you ever gone to church for it?"

He shook his head, and a worried look crossed his face.

"Don't worry, Senya. We've got the building surrounded by guards. Just go up the aisle with the priests, they'll flank you on both sides and then..."

"I can't do this, Taner."

"Why not? Of course, you can. You don't even have to say anything except that you thank the Saint, your lord and then you kiss..."

"I can't do this, Taner!"

The music had started, and the priests were standing in front of us. They bowed to Senya and I pushed him forward.

"Taner?" he pleaded.

"The King wants you to do this!" I snapped. "Now do it!"

I followed him down the aisle as I was supposed to. The audience had risen to their feet. Easily the chapel was filled with ten thousand people. It was a very big church. We got up to the dais, and someone brought forward the icon. Senya stood there. The audience knelt. I knelt. The priests knelt. Senya stood there.

"Make obeisance," I thought as loudly as I could think hoping he would read my mind as he so often did Berkan's.

One of the priests gently nudged him and indicated that he should get down.

"I can't do this," Senya said softly, and his hands started to tremble.

"Sir?" the Head Priest said. "You must bow before the Saint and kiss his Holy figure."

"Markiis Kalila is not a god," the boy replied. He swayed on his feet, and his eyes grew very bright.

"Sir?" The priest rose to his feet.

"Markiis Kalila is not a god," the boy enunciated louder as if we were all too stupid to realize it.

The Head Priest looked stricken. There were audible gasps and murmurings throughout the chapel. One of the secondary priests came up beside the Head Priest and pointed his finger at Senya.

"You, of the blood of the Infidel, dare to come into our Holy Sanctuary and blaspheme the Saint?"

"Markiis Kalila was just a man," Senya declared. "You worship a false god. Your whole religion is a lie!"

"Senya!" I tried to interrupt.

"You, Karut heathen!" the Head Priest began to shout and waved his arms around. "You shall never sit the throne of Mishnah! Some blessed patriot will execute you before that will ever come to pass unless you renounce your evil ways now and accept the Saint as your lord."

Senya's eyes flashed. His hands shook wildly. I glanced around and looked for our guards, but there were none to be seen, so I clambered to my feet and moved next to the boy.

"Come on," I told him. "Let's get out of here."

He didn't move. In the back of my brain there was still a seed of a thought that this boy was the Infidel reborn as Akan had said all along. The Devil could have given him all these weird powers, blind silver eyes, and fangs. Here he was blaspheming the beloved Saint in this Holy place. Maybe I shouldn't protect him. The silver light turned on me.

"Fuck you, Taner," he said and waved his hand in an arc across the dais. The Holy Icons burst into flames. "Fuck all of you!" he hissed and the sacred ornaments exploded as if rigged with dynamite. The church was amass of confusion and screaming as people ran to get out of the way. Remnants and shards of the Holy ornaments came flying off the dais.

"Infidel! Infidel!" the High Priest screamed as he was caught in the hailstorm of Holy shrapnel. The screaming got even louder as the other priests clambered to get back down the stairs and scramble out of the building as it began to quake.

"Stop it, Senya, stop this!" I grabbed the boy and shook him. "Are you doing this? Stop it now!" A piece of candlestick came flying at me and banged me in the head. I dropped my hold on the boy. He immediately turned around and disappeared, while I did everything I could to stay upright and conscious.

I was in the car returning to the Palace. I already had three calls from Loman screaming his head off. The King was on the verge of a cardiac episode. Akan was demanding that Senya be declared ineligible to succeed.

"We are so toasted this time," I mumbled. "We are dead meat. We are beyond dead meat. We are meat that is rancid and crawling with maggots."

"Aye Mr. Taner," the driver turned around and nodded at me. "I think the boy just blew his last chance."

"Aye," I agreed and felt like crying. Just hours ago I was parading around calling myself the Lord Chamberlain, and now it was more likely my head would be on a pike outside the Palace gates.

The vid rang again. Again it was Loman. His head would be on the pike next to mine.

"Did you find him yet?"

"No, sir," I mumbled.

"Get your ass back to Old Mishnah," Loman screamed. "Go look for him and take an army with you."

"He wouldn't be back with Berkie, would he?" I asked hopefully.

"No!" Loman snapped and rang off.

I didn't need an army. I had lived with the boy long enough to know that nobody and nothing would find him when he didn't want to be found. For all I knew, he could be sitting up in a tree eating a rat somewhere on the other side of the continent. I would be dead anyway. What was the point of working anymore?

I chose to sit out on the balcony to the beach. I stayed there all the rest of the day and into the night although Loman thought I was scouring Old Mishnah. Instead, I watched the waves curl up, and the rain pelt the sand. I thought, how sad my mother would be when I was executed. I had rung her before church yesterday so she could see me in my robes and she had cried the whole time we were on the vid telling me how handsome I was and how proud my father would have been.

Just before sunrise, Senya emerged from the forest, barefoot and in a tattered and filthy version of his formal dress robes. He walked up the steps to sit down beside me.

"What happens next?" I asked. I was smoking a cig thinking how this was one of my few and last pleasures.

"You need to understand, Taner," the boy said, speaking the Noble Mishnese with his street lilt. "Markiis Kalila was just a man. Karukan de Kudisha was just a man too. No one can make me proclaim them as gods."

"So the religion of half a billion people here on Rehnor, and equally as many people back on Rozari, is all a lie because you say so?"

"Yes," he replied, lighting his own cig that appeared in his hand from nowhere.

"And you know this how?"

He took a long drag and then exhaled. "I just do."

"You just do," I repeated with a sigh.

"Taner," he said in a voice that belied his youth. "All is as it should be. Your destiny is intact. You will not die today nor tomorrow. You will be as you wish to be and your mother will be very proud."

I snorted and huffed. "What do you know of my mother?"

His silver eyes flickered at me, and he smiled as if indeed he knew all.

"What about you, Senya? What are you? Are you just a man or are you something else?"

He turned back to the sea. "I am who I am, Taner. I am what I am." He took his cigarette and held it flat in his palm.

I looked at it not burning his hand. "So?"

He curled his fist and in his hand now was a ball of silver light. With a flick of his wrist, he tossed it into the still dark sky. The ball soared up like a bolt of lightning in reverse, breaking apart the clouds and letting a billion stars shine through. Now it turned into a comet shooting among the stars and then it exploded into a million multi-colored sparks of light like a great pyrotechnic rocket.

"You are a boy who can light up the sky," I said and glanced over at his face.

"That I am," he replied as his eyes reflected the colors that burst above us in the night sky.

I stared at him, and I, then understood that he was something more, something with a power that may indeed save or destroy this Rehnor. I was not afraid though. I saw in his face another light, a light I had never noticed before. There was a glow surrounding him, a heavenly aura. It made me feel like weeping for no reason at all.

"Chill out, Taner," he laughed and then clambered to his feet and went inside.

The King was so angry he wouldn't grant audience so that Senya might explain himself. Instead, Senya was escorted off and flogged again, then returned to me later that evening.

The Palace issued a press release announcing that the Crown Prince was, in fact, the same religion as his father and the people of Karupatani but held the Sainted Mishnese in the highest regard and respected their faith immensely. Had his mother lived, he might have been raised Sainted but since she did not, his father's family had an overwhelming influence upon him.

Akan was furious beyond measure that Senya was not declared ineligible and two nights later just after midnight at the Saint's Day ball, Senya was shot.

I don't know how to explain how he got out on the roof. He had not moved from his bed in two days and was still in a great deal of pain. I was sleeping in the outer chamber, and so he would have had to creep by me to climb out onto the terrace or through a window.

Somehow he got on the roof though and somehow he crossed nearly a half of a mile on rooftop. Somehow Akan's goons followed him and somehow, right above the Crystal Ballroom where the Saint's Day Ball was in full swing, Senya was shot three times in the back puncturing a lung, breaking three ribs and slicing his spleen. The impact forced him to fall off the roof, and onto the terrace of the Crystal Ballroom, three stories below, fracturing again the arm that had been broken the last time he was shot.

"It's time," I said. "When he wakes up, I'm going to take him there."

"If he wakes up," Loman said. "Why don't you go get some rest? I'll stay here for a bit."

"I've got plenty of rest," I snapped. "Nothing more for me to do than rest." I glanced up at the monitor watching the steady blip of Senya's heartbeat.

"You watch it all day and all night long," Loman said. "You don't sleep."

"It's my fault. He said I couldn't protect him and I couldn't."

Loman sighed and sat down in the chair across from me.

"We've been through this Taner. When he wants to get out, he gets out. There is nothing you could have done. There is nothing anyone can do about it."

I nodded because I had heard this before and Loman would keep repeating it unless I acknowledged it whether or not I believed it. With a heavy sigh, Loman got up and moved closer to the bed.

"Poor kid," he said and ran his hand across Senya's forehead. "Berkie misses him terribly."

"I do too."

"Yep, I'm sure you miss all the trouble he causes," Loman smirked, but he looked fondly at the boy. "He has Lydia's eyes. Not the silver of course but the same shape. She had long dark lashes like that. Her eyes were a very light bluish gray. Striking really."

"Look at his eyes now." I motioned for Loman to pull up one of the tightly shut lids.

"Same color," Loman gasped. "How about that? Where does all the silvery stuff come from?"

"Doctor says he has a strange protein in his blood. That's why he can't transfuse him with anything. I guess it's the protein that blocks out his real eyes, and now when he is so low on blood, you can see they are clear."

"I wonder if he was awake he would be able to see?"

"Who knows? Doesn't matter though. He can't wake up like this. Doctor says he may be in a coma for weeks or months."

"Yeah, I know." Loman sighed again and gently closed the eyelid, patting the boy on his hand. "At least he'll be all healed everywhere else by the time he wakes up. A few scars and he won't even remember how he got them. Get some rest, Taner. It's going to be a long haul."

"I don't trust anyone else to sit here, Loman," I said. "I'm not moving until I can take him to Karupatani."

Loman nodded. "I'll drop by tomorrow."

I fell asleep, dozed really. It was one of those times when I had a vivid dream of absolute nonsense but could still hear everything going on around me. I heard the blip of the monitor and the nurse coming in and typing something and then leaving. I heard someone else come in and sit down, but I still couldn't wake myself fully. I don't know how long I slept, maybe ten minutes, maybe an hour, but when I finally did rouse myself enough to wake, I saw it was the King in the chair opposite me. Awkwardly, I bolted to my feet but nearly tripped and fell on top of Senya on the bed.

"Come now, Lt. Taner," the King said. "Sit back down and rest yourself. I can see you are overly tired."

"Thank you, Sir." I bowed and then sat.

We sat there in silence for a bit, the King gazing at Senya.

"Quite a young man," he stated, and I was surprised to hear the fondness in his voice.

"Yes, Sir. Indeed."

"My lady wife, the Queen, does not believe he is Lydia's son. She is wrong though. I do see Lydia in him."

"The eyes, Sir?"

The King smiled. "Yes, the eyes. Lydia's long lashes would grace her cheeks just like that as she slept. I used to think her the most beautiful child in the world. This boy is a beautiful child."

"Especially when he keeps his mouth shut," I murmured.

The King chuckled. "Yes, he does have quite a mouth on him. He is brilliant, is he not? And magical too. Who could have imagined he would have such capabilities? Who could have given him such gifts if not the Saint or perhaps the Karupta god?"

We both pondered the boy for a moment.

"I did the right thing, Mr.Taner," the King said. "I sacrificed my daughter for this boy, and it was the right thing to do. In time, everyone will see that."

"Yes, Sir," I replied. "You don't need to justify it to me."

"Of course I don't," he scoffed looking down his regal nose at me. I meekly lowered my head. A moment later, he relaxed. He leaned back in his chair crossing one leg over the other and spoke to me as if we were old friends. "She didn't want to marry the Karut you know. She had quite a mouth on her too, and she would argue with me like a fish wife. She was adamant that she would not have the Karut, but in the end, she did her duty. He'll do his duty too." The King nodded his head as if to reinforce this assumption. "In time of course. Merakoma has this silly notion that this boy is something mystical; someone the Infidel wrote about a thousand years before, just prior to nuking the Mother Planet. Can you imagine that, Mr. Taner? Can you imagine the Infidel sitting at his desk writing these words about his son being his enemy's son and that a child shall control great and powerful forces and will unite the people that war against each other in this galaxy? This boy will save our people, all our people, this blind, brilliant, magical boy. Can you imagine that, Mr. Taner?" The King's voice rose as he threw his hands down in disbelief. "And then the Infidel ordered the destruction of the Mother Planet and he fled. And he came here so that a thousand years later, this boy would be born to rule the galaxy. Can you imagine that, Mr. Taner?"

"The galaxy? Frankly, no Sir," I said.

The King shook his head. "Not I either. However, Merakoma, though he has never seen the boy, says he bears the mark of the eagle upon his skull, and that is the sign, the proof as it were. The Infidel in his writings described the very birthmark this boy bears on his head."

I wanted to ask if the Infidel in his writings described the boy's feet as well, but I kept my mouth shut.

"Tell me what you think, Mr. Taner. Is my brother-king mad and delusional or is he correct?"

I stared at the King and shook my head. "I don't know, Sir. But I know what I saw. Captain Loman saw him too."

"I know," the King sighed and lumbered to his feet. "I wish I could be so blessed as to see this magnificent man of the future who Captain Loman has described. Saint be willing that I live long enough to do so. Saint be willing that this boy live long enough to become that man."

"Yes, Sir."

"Merakoma waits for him." The King stepped over to the bed and gazed down at the boy. "You will take him there."

"Yes, Sir."

"Captain Loman will give you a spaceplane and all the funds you need."

"Of course, Sir."

"As soon as he is able," the King took Senya's hand and studied it. "He has Lydia's hands, long fingers, and nails the same shape as hers. I used to say her hands were made for playing the piano although I don't think this boy would be much interested in piano." He stroked Senya's hand. "Perhaps Merakoma can do more with him than I could. Perhaps they understand better what he is about."

"Perhaps, Sir," I replied.

"He'll come back. He will not abandon Mishnah." The King spoke softly more to himself than to me. "Saint be willing." Then, he left the room.

Two months later I flew Senya to the landing strip Tuman and Pedah had shown me more than half a year earlier. The boy sat straight, his eyes dimly lit with silver and his face bereft of color. He was tired and weak and leaned his head against the window nearly the entire flight. We debarked the speeder and were met by the princes. I left Senya in their care and turned to board the spaceplane that was waiting for me.

"Taner?" Senya called.

"What's the matter?" I turned back to find him walking toward me.

"Why don't you stay here?"

"Me? Live in Karupatani? I don't speak the language." I said this with a smile as if it was a joke.

"I don't either," Senya replied.

"You'll be fine. These guys are your family."

"The last bunch of blokes was my family too. Did great there, eh?"

I put my hand on his arm and gave it a squeeze. "You'll be alright, Senya. I know you will. My job is finished now."

"No, it's not, Taner," he replied, and the light in his eyes got brighter. "You'll be back. Remember? I told you that you will be that which you wish to be."

"Sure," I scoffed. "You want to tell me when that will happen?"

Senya appeared to think about it. "Twenty-five years maybe? Give or take a few."

"Do you know the month and day too? I'll mark it on my calendar."

"We'll be able to use your freighter to ship the parts from Rozari," he replied and swayed on his feet.

"I beg your pardon?" I put a hand on his shoulder and steadied him.

"What?"

"You said you're going to use my freighter?"

"What freighter?"

"Senya," I laughed. "You just told me you were going to use my freighter to ship parts from Rozari."

"Rozari? I just got here. Now I've got to go to Rozari?"

"I don't know, Senya. I'm just repeating back what you said."

For the first time in months, he smiled. "Will you go to Earth now, Taner?"

"Earth? I don't know. Where is that?"

"Will you take something there for me?" He held out his hand and in it appeared two chess pieces. They were marble and gold from the chess set in his suite back at the Palace; the same set he was forever check-mating me with.

"The black king and the white queen?" I took them from him and turned them over in my hand. On the bottom of each piece in gold leaf was his Eagle Coat of Arms. "Who am I supposed to bring these to?"

"You'll know when you get there." His eyes flickered at me. "Goodbye Taner. Godspeed."

"Be blessed, MaKennah," I replied and then flew off to the future.

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# Chapter 13

# Tuman

THE BOY STOOD AS THE spaceplane turned aloft and headed into the sky. A moment later it disappeared, yet the boy remained unmoved.

"What is he watching?" my brother asked, staring at the sky.

"He doesn't watch," I replied. "The Mishak said he does not see."

My brother nodded and looked around the valley.

"What are you looking at?" I asked.

"I don't know." Pedah shrugged, yet his eyes continued to roam the hills and steppes before finally settling on the village.

"He controls your eyes!"

"Does he?" Pedah laughed. "Is that why I am staring at Diridan's young daughter?"

"Must be," I said. "She is very fair but far too young for you. Come on." I grabbed his arm, and we moved across the meadow to the boy.

He turned as we neared and appeared to gaze upon us with his silver eyes. He looked like our brother Sorkan although with pale skin and the Mishnese Princess's eyes. He was young, younger than I imagined, and I reminded myself he was not yet thirteen years.

"Welcome, MaKennah," I said and then it was as if a warm fog settled in upon my mind for just a moment. My brother punched my arm and wakened me.

"Listen MaKennah," my brother said and bent down to the boy's face. "You do not use these powers on us. You want to know something, you ask. You want to see something, we describe for you."

The boy did not respond. His eyes flickered in Pedah's face.

"He doesn't speak Karupta," I reminded my brother. "Shall I tell him in Mishnese?"

"He understands," Pedah replied. "Come on, our father is waiting." My brother started walking toward the village.

"How do you know?" I called after him but then looked over at the MaKennah. The boy's eyes were flickering at me now. To me he looked tired. He was very pale as if he was ill.

"You need to rest," I told him in Mishnese. "Come change your clothing and meet our father and then you will lie down the rest of the day. You will come to pray with us tonight."

The boy made no acknowledgment that he understood me but instead, turned his face to the wind which was warm this day and carried the scent of new leaves and grass. A hawk screamed and circled in the sky high above our heads. This made the boy smile. He would like our valley and this, his new home.

"Come MaKennah," I said and moved to take his arm to guide him down the steppes. He cringed from my touch, so I let him be and headed alone after my brother. The boy followed me keeping his distance. "You will live in my house with my family," I called back to him over my shoulder. "My wife is Garinka and we have a new son named Rekah. He is one year old and very clever. My brother Pedah will be your teacher. He teaches all the boys in the village. My father will teach you as well."

I glanced back at the boy. He moved well for not having sight. I wondered if the Mishaks were wrong about this.

"Your mind speaks to me even if you do not wish it so," the boy spoke in the Noble Mishnese.

"And this is how you see where to go?"

The boy nodded.

"What do you do when you are alone?"

"I remember from when I have come before."

"And if you have never gone somewhere before?"

The boy shrugged.

We had reached the main road of the village. Our people were in the street watching us. It was strange how silent they were. I spied Diridan's daughter and her friends huddled in a circle. I watched them as they stared at the MaKennah and whispered behind their hands then I tore my eyes from them and saw that the MaKennah's pale face had turned pink. This was unnerving to me, this ability to guide my eyes and decide upon that which I would look. I resolved to speak again to my brother and perhaps our father about this.

Pedah was with my wife in front of my house. Garinka stepped back as we came to the door, a worried look upon her face. She did not wish for the MaKennah to live with us. Like many in our village, in Karupatani, she feared his presence. We knew how the Mishaks had tried to kill him yet we did not know the reasons why they would want to do so. There were some who thought perhaps he was evil or possessed of a wayward spirit. There were others that did not want him amongst us simply because he shared Mishnese blood. My father overruled his council and declared the boy would come to us and reside in my home and become brother to my son.

"They say he has killed Mishaks," my wife had cried. "He has evil ways and strange powers. How can you allow him to be in the presence of your own infant boy?"

"How do you know all this? Do you watch the talking Mishak heads on the vid when I am not present? Still you must waste your time and attention on the trash that comes upon that screen. Have you not women in this village you can befriend and chat with instead? Have you not enough tasks to keep you busy such as tending your baby and cleaning this house? Surely there are new skills you may learn instead of listening to that nonsense."

"I am only trying to protect my baby!" she wept. "And what if I watch the vid and see how the Mishaks live? Do you not think I should like to live in a real house with electricity and plumbing and drive a speeder and shop for goods? I am a Princess of Karupatani, and I must toil like a slave! At least I may watch the vid and dream of another place. Perhaps I may even be so fortunate to live there in my next life!"

She slammed the door, and I joined my brother at his solitary table for dinner that night.

"Your room is upstairs," I said to the MaKennah, leading him past my wife's sour face and up to the small bedroom we had built for him. Lying upon the bed were leggings, tunics, belts, and shoes that Garinka and the village women had sewn.

"You must change your clothing," I told him. "You must dress like a Karupta now."

The boy removed his sash, and I took it and handed it to Garinka who now hovered near the door, Rekah propped upon her hip. She had never felt a silk so fine as this though I recalled such a luxury from when my brother had married the Mishnese Princess, and I had touched and stroked the fine silks and gold that adorned his costume.

Garinka held the silk to her cheek and turned away from me so I would not see the pleasure upon her face. Rekah too put his tiny hand upon it.

"Mine," he said.

"No, not yours," I corrected.

"Might I keep it?" Garinka whispered, though her back was still to me.

"If it be the MaKennah's will," I replied and turned toward the boy to ask this of him when I was struck dumb. He had taken off his shirt and was putting on the tunic but before he was covered I saw what the Mishaks had done to him. He had long scars from bullet wounds and welts from having been beaten. Garinka saw this too and her face went pale. She reached for my arm and pulled me outside the door.

"See you now! It is as I have said. Why would they have done that to a child unless he is evil? I do not want him in my house. I do not want him near my baby." Great tears appeared in my wife's eyes, and Rekah looked upon her face with alarm.

"He is not evil," I said sternly. "And this is my house."

"How do you know what he is? You have never seen him before this day!"

"Keep your voice down," I snapped. "He can hear you."

"He doesn't speak Karupta, you said so yourself." Her eyes turned behind me to the boy who stood in the doorway, his silver eyes flickering upon us.

"You are welcome here, MaKennah." I glared at my wife until she bowed her head. "Come now, let us take you before my father."

My father studied the MaKennah for a very long time as the boy made obeisance before him. My brother and I shifted about on our feet though the boy did not move. It was only after many moments had passed and my father and the boy still remained frozen that my brother finally spoke.

"Father? What do you watch for such a long time?"

"Ay yah," my father said waving his hand about the boy's head. He paused his hand as if catching the air and then studied it as if something lay therein.

I glanced at my brother. I saw nothing but my father's empty palm. My brother winked at me.

"You do not see?" My father turned to the both of us, his eyebrows raised in surprise.

We shook our heads. My brother smiled. We thought our father was imagining things.

"Arise, child," my father said.

The boy sat back on his haunches and narrowed his eyes so that only a small sliver of silver light shone through. My father reached to touch the boy's face, but the boy shirked away.

"He does not like to be touched," I said.

My father nodded and spoke to him. "You know what I see." The boy opened his eyes wider and a beam of silver light shone upon my father's face. "It is a wondrous thing. We are blessed beyond measure. We will care for you and heal you so you will grow and become that which you have been sent here to be. Tuman, take him home and put him to bed. He is not well. Go now. I must go to the Temple and pray on this."

"On what?" I asked.

My father looks at his empty hands and smiled. "This miracle."

My brother rolled his eyes.

The boy stayed in his room at my house for more than a week. The doctor had brought him strengthening herbs and Garinka made him soups and soon the color came back to his cheeks and the light shone from his eyes much brighter than before. In this week, he learned to speak Karupta, answering us in our own language when we spoke to him although his words were few. At the end of the second week, my father declared that the MaKennah would come to pray with us, and we would bleed him.

"Have we not been waiting for him to recover so now we must injure him again like the Mishaks?" I asked.

"We will take only a little," my father replied. "We do not injure him, we honor him. He knows this. When he is an adult, you will need to do this often." He looked pointedly at my brother and I as if to remind us that he would not live forever. "He will be very powerful when he is fully grown. He will be a danger to himself and to Rehnor. There will be times when you must weaken him."

"You make no sense, Father," Pedah said. "First you tell us he is a miracle sent to us to save Rehnor, and now you tell us he will destroy it?"

My father shook his head sending his long grey plaits and beard trembling. "I am not privy to the secrets of the future. I only tell you that which Karukan has written. The MaKennah knows about this. He understands what he must do and why."

"And how do you know that?" my brother scoffed. "Has he been more generous with his words to you?"

My father smiled. "It is all in the book."

My brother rolled his eyes again.

That night during our worship, the MaKennah joined us, and we did hold the first of our bleeding ceremonies. I cannot say that he was surprised by it. Perhaps my father was correct in that he did know what was to happen. He knelt before us with resignation, a frown upon his face. The Mishaks had done much to hurt him, and I feared he thought that we were the same. He waited patiently and impassively as we each tasted his blood, which caused a strange sensation in me. For a moment I felt as if I could do anything I wished. As if I could wave my hands and all would do my bidding. It was only for a moment, but my brother told me he felt the same way. How curious it would be to feel like this all the time.

The MaKennah joined the other boys of our village in their lessons shortly after that. He was taught the skills of fighting with light swords, the one weapon our people had retained from our ancient days of glory when Karukan still walked this land. Our chiefs held on to the secret knowledge of creating a laser that could be swung about at will, turning whatever it touched to dust. The Mishaks had this weapon too, but ours were far superior in strength and were lighter to carry and thus even our youngest men could fight.

My brother and I had decided against teaching the MaKennah sword fighting. Without sight, he might swing the weapon erratically and cause irreparable damage or death. Our father overruled us, and himself placed the light sword in the boy's hand, bidding him to swing and strike the one held in my own.

The MaKennah studied the instrument for a moment, switching the hilt to his left hand and hefting it about, turning it off and on. Then without warning, he struck at my weapon knocking it loose from my hand whereupon it fell to the ground and turned itself off.

My brother laughed. "Even a blind boy can best you, Tuman," he declared.

"Your turn then," I replied, retrieving my sword from the ground and tossing it to him. He turned it on and parried with the boy once, twice, and then, the weapon was again on the ground. "How can you do this?" I cried. "You cannot see where the blade goes."

The boy shrugged. "It vibrates," he said. "And each sword has a unique tone. Sight is overrated." He handed his own back to me and walked away.

As with all our boys, the MaKennah was taken to the pasture land and told to select a horse. His choice was a wild black colt which he named Tirikla. The name meant "crazy". It was an appropriate name as the colt was considered by most to be unmanageable, but he calmed under the MaKennah's touch, and the two of them became inseparable.

Seasons changed and yet the young men in our village were still wary of the MaKennah. Though they shared lessons, they kept their distance from him, and he was excluded from all of their other activities. This bothered my father a great deal as he felt strongly that although we were princes, we must still have the friendship of our men. It seemed not to bother the MaKennah at all. He did not seem distressed by his solitude, but kept to himself and often disappeared for long periods of time in the forest. He craved no companionship other than Rekah who upon learning to walk, followed the MaKennah incessantly.

The girls, on the other hand, professed great interest in the MaKennah and would have followed him incessantly too if they could have. Packs of them would surround him at any given moment and often I would catch him tearing into the house, slamming the door and holding it shut despite the pounding and calls of the young ladies outside.

"Perhaps this is why the boys don't like him," Pedah mused with a smirk on his lips. "He has stolen all their lovers."

"Never the less," my father said. "He must learn to get along with the young men."

"I think they fear him," I said. "They have seen him move things with a wave of his hand or fetch his sword from only air."

"I think I fear him," Pedah said.

"They will not follow him out of fear," my father insisted. "They must follow him out of love."

Unfortunately, they were far from loving him. In fact the only emotion the boys seemed to express was hate. One day in late spring, nearly a year after Sehron came to live with us, I arrived home from my work in the fields to discover the boy sitting at the dinner table, his face and arms a mass of bruises and cuts. Garinka stood quietly at the stove frying pancakes while Rekah sat in his high chair ripping bits of pancake and stuffing them into his mouth.

"What happened to you?" I asked Sehron. He didn't respond, just fingered his own pancake.

"The boys of the village beat him," Garinka snapped. "Is it not obvious?"

"Really?" I gasped. "Why would they do that? What did you do?"

"He did nothing," my wife replied, slapping the pan on the stove as if in revenge. "He let them hurt him without raising a fist."

I studied Sehron who kept his chin down and mouth closed in a frown. "Why?" I said again.

"Because they are all a bunch of fools," my wife continued.

Rekah laughed as if this was funny. He opened his mouth and chortled so we all could see the pancake stuffed therein.

"Why did you not defend yourself, MaKennah?"

"Because there were ten of them and only one of him!"

"Garinka," I snapped. "I should like to hear the words from his own mouth. Is that why, Sehron? Did they all gang up on you?"

The boy nodded. "But that is not why," he replied softly.

"Why then?"

The boy turned his silver gaze upon my face. "If I responded I would have killed them," he said steadily. "And they do not deserve to die just because they are stupid now."

I stared back at him dumbfounded.

"Do you think he would have killed them as he said?" I asked my brother the next day.

Pedah shrugged and put a blade of straw between his teeth. He stared at the clear blue sky and whistled a tune. He had done this since my earliest memory. I called it his thinking tune.

"Yes," he said after a time. "Yes I do."

"Shall we keep him away from them? Shall we insist he be taught separately?"

"No," Pedah replied. "He will not hurt them. He already told you as much. Let us see where this takes us."

"But they might hurt him."

"No," my brother shook his head, "a scratch and bruise is nothing to a boy who has been beaten by the wrong end of a horse whip. Leave him be."

My father agreed with my brother but suggested that soon we should take all the young boys together on a journey in the forest against the elements. They would learn to rely on each other and hopefully bond.

Due to the harvest, it was nearly the end of autumn before we had the opportunity to set out on this trip. The early chill of winter was in the air as Pedah, and I and our young men ventured on horseback for the village of Shrotru.

There were many villages in our country, and often we toured in the summer so our people may see us and give us gifts and my father may listen to their troubles and adjudicate. Once a year all our village leaders came to us for the New Year's celebration. My father had gone alone during the last summer believing that the MaKennah was not ready to tour yet, and he did not want him left alone without myself and Pedah in attendance. Now the weather had turned bitter. It was a good time to teach the boys how to survive in the cold.

We set out early one morning, the rain pelting us so that we were wet and cold within minutes of our departure. The horses snorted as they stomped along, great gusts of steam coming from their muzzles. As we rose higher in the mountains, the rain turned to snow. Everyone was dressed in thick skins and furs, and the horses each carried ample provisions although we had hoped the boys would hunt. When we reached Shrotru, the village chief would have a celebration dinner, and there would be many young ladies to entertain and warm up our boys.

For the most part, our first two days were uneventful. Sehron kept to himself at the back of our pack. His skittish horse did not like to be clustered among others much like his master. When we made our camp at night instead of assisting the others in hunting, gathering wood for the fire or helping to cook, Sehron spent inordinate amounts of time brushing down his horse. In fact, when the rest of us settled in to eat, the MaKennah disappeared. After two nights of this, Pedah was angry.

"Does he think we are nothing but his servants? Is our food not fine enough for a Mishak prince?"

"I'll speak with him," I said, and after I had finished my own meal, I went to find the boy. I found him not far from the camp, up in a tree smoking a Mishak cigarette. It was the faint scent of the tobacco that led me there.

"Can you come down here please, MaKennah?" I asked. "Might I speak with you a moment?"

He leapt down and landed on his feet, as if leaping twenty feet or more from tree limbs was common for him.

"Walk with me please," I said, already stepping further into the forest. There was a light dusting of snow on the ground, but the sky was a kaleidoscope of stars overhead. "You do not associate with the other young men. You do not like them?"

He shrugged and took a long drag on his cigarette.

"You do not help put the camp together at night and find our dinner. You do not like to do this?"

Again he shrugged.

"You do not think it is fitting for a prince to do this work? Pedah and I are princes too, and we also have the blood of Karukan in our veins. You do not see us sit around and wait for our meals to be presented to us."

"It's not that," he said quietly.

A hawk called overhead, and he turned his face up to it.

"What is it then?"

"I do not like to cook."

"Oh? And if you did not know how to cook, how would you eat your meat?"

"I like it better when it is not cooked."

The hawk soared in a circle above us and seemed to steal his attention.

I considered what and how he might eat that which was not cooked. I recalled how many nights he sat at my dinner table, presented with Garinka's preparations only to toss it about with a fork much to Rekah's amusement. After a few minutes, I would excuse him from the table as otherwise Rekah would begin to copy this game.

"He is obviously well nourished and healthy," my brother had said when I discussed my concern. "Perhaps he just doesn't like your wife's cooking. I'm not sure I do either."

Now, I thought it was more than just my wife's cooking the MaKennah did not like.

"There are other jobs you may do. You can hunt."

"I can't," he said distractedly, his face upturned to the sky.

"Of course you can, you have been taught."

"I only hunt by myself," he said sharply, turning his silver gaze upon me. "I do not like to hunt in a group."

"You are so certain of your skills? Alright, then you can start the fire."

"Do you think I need to learn how to start a fire?" he asked calmly.

"Of course," I said. "How will you warm yourself if you do not? How will you keep the animals away?"

His silver eyes flickered across my face, and his expression told me he was annoyed with my ignorance. He held his hand out at the forest and pointed at a tree.

"Fire?" he asked.

I shrugged.

Instantly the tree exploded into flame.

"Ay yah!" I screamed. "Put that out!"

A crack of thunder sounded overhead. The stars were immediately obliterated by thick clouds, which began to snow down on us and the burning tree. The tree burned for a moment more and then with a hiss and a sizzle, the flames died out.

"How did you do that?" I gasped.

"Can I go now?" He asked impatiently, almost dancing in place.

"Yes. Of course," I said, and he was gone in the trees before I could even tell which way he went. I turned my eyes to the sky as the hawk screeched in fear overhead. I watched enormous dark wings snatch the bird from her path and carry her away to devour.

In our group there were two brothers. The eldest, Pori, was fifteen and an excellent warrior especially for one so young. Being one of the oldest and strongest of our group, he was the natural leader. He rode at the front and ordered the other boys around. His dislike for the MaKennah was obvious. The other boys followed his example and scorned the MaKennah, as well. Pori's younger brother was Padim, and he was just turned twelve years. Neither my brother nor I wished to bring such a young boy on our journey, but his father, a good friend of ours, insisted with Pori around, no harm would come to Padim.

It was the fifth day of our journey and we were one day away from arriving in Shrotru. We made camp in a flat area under a knoll of trees. Upon the ground, there lay a few inches of hard snow, but the sky was clear and the weak winter sun glistened in the ice. The boys had split into their usual groups, but now Pedah had called them back together.

"We will all go together in a hunting party," he said. "We will bring our Shrotru Chief a stag to feed his people. Whichever one of you slays the stag may keep the antlers."

The boys started murmuring in excitement. A set of stag antlers was a great prize. Pori boasted that it will be he to win the prize, but his young brother insisted that it will instead be he.

"The little one is just like you," Pedah said to me.

"And the older one is just as cocky as you," I replied.

We set out together on foot as stealth was needed. Pedah, in a quiet voice, instructed the boys how to slip through the forest downwind of the herd, to follow their tracks unnoticed, to take aim with their spears.

A buck was sighted, a great and beautiful animal with a large rack of antlers, standing silently, his breath, warm clouds of steam rising above him. The boys did as they had been taught and surrounded the buck, tossing spears wildly when Pori gave the signal. Only Sehron did not participate. He lingered back in the trees, a shadow among the snow covered leaves.

The buck was hurt but not killed. He ran wildly through the forest trampling on the spears and trailing blood upon the pristine white snow. We followed him into a clearing, knowing that he would tire eventually and then we would finish him off and carry him back to our camp. Pori, Padim and the other boys raced after him. There was no need for stealth and quiet now, so they yelled, whooped and tossed their spears about, their faces red with both cold and excitement. Pedah and I followed and watched as the poor beast finally fell to his knees, the white clouds of his panting breath becoming thin trails and then ceasing as he fell upon his side.

The boys were ecstatic. They raced to the buck, surrounding him and preparing to administer any final blows when a tremendous roar rocked the forest. A great black bear burst from the trees and headed straight for the stag. All the boys turned abruptly and ran back for cover except one. Padim was paralyzed with fear.

"Padim! Padim!" Pedah yelled and bolted out after the boy although he was armed with only his blade. I ran too, but we were all too late as the bear had seized upon the boy choosing him over the dead stag. Pedah pulled up short, and I fell into him.

"How can we fight this bear?" I cried as the boys screamed around us.

"Fire!" Pedah yelled. "Or a spear! Who has still got a spear?" He looked around frantically at the trail of spears in the snow behind us.

"Fire, Sehron!" I cried. "We need fire!" Where was the MaKennah? I did not see him anywhere. In the corner of my eye I saw something else though. Great black wings soared down from top of a tall fir tree and lit upon the back of the bear.

"Eagle," Pedah gasped dumbfounded as the giant raptor seized upon the throat of the bear with its sharp beak.

The bear roared and rose up on his hind legs tossing Padim aside and frantically tried to shake the winged beast from his back. He galloped across the meadow and then stumbled and collapsed, his own blood leaving a red trail across the snow. Pedah and I ran to Padim and my brother gathered the boy in his arms and hurried back to our encampment. The rest of the boys and I watched as the eagle ripped apart the dead bear's flesh. With something bloody and dripping firmly lodged between his long talons, he retreated to the treetops.

"We have both a stag and bear to drag back to the camp," I said when my heart had calmed, and my voice and breath returned to me. I sent a few boys back to camp to bring horses. In the meantime, the rest of us set about to devise a sled to drag the carcasses. Dusk had fallen upon us, and we would not have had enough light to skin and treat the meat.

Over the next few hours, we dragged the animals back to our camp. Padim was sitting by the fire wrapped in blankets when we arrived. He was bruised and cut but was already telling great tales of his fight with the bear. The boys gathered around eating their dinner of bear meat stew while Pori lobbied for the bear's claws. Antlers were nothing compared to the value of a bear claw necklace.

"Padim fought him bravely," Pori insisted. "It should be his reward."

The boys agreed as they always agreed to Pori's wishes.

Pedah looked up from the skinning of the bear's pelt. We would leave it with our brothers in Shrotru to cure. "The eagle took this bear's heart," my brother remarked. "How curious is that?"

We looked too and saw the open space behind the bear's torn lungs.

"Ripped it right out," Pedah said with a frown and winked at me. "Have you ever seen an eagle do such a thing?"

"No," I shrugged. "I have never seen an eagle attack a bear."

"Hmmph," my brother snorted and went back to the pelt, humming his thinking tune. Then he looked up at me again with a twinkle in his eye. "Have you seen Sehron? Was he with you on your return here?"

"No," I shook my head and realized with all the commotion and worry over Padim and the bear, I had completely forgotten about the MaKennah. "I have not seen him since we chased the buck from the forest."

"He was frightened," Pori laughed. "The great MaKennah was scared and ran away to hide."

The other boys laughed dutifully.

I glanced at Pedah who raised his eyebrows, a knowing smile on his lips.

"Should we be worried?"

"I suspect he'll show up," Pedah said, and the words were no sooner out of his mouth than Sehron emerged from the darkness to stand beside the fire. There was something in his hand, and it was dark red and dripping blood.

"Are you hurt, MaKennah?" Pedah asked to which the boy shook his head.

"Just frightened," Pori sneered and came to stand beside the younger boy. "Where were you, MaKennah, when my little brother fought a bear like a man?"

The silver light washed across Pori's face. Sehron held out it his hand and the bloody object in it.

"What is it?" Pori flinched.

"The heart of bear," Sehron said evenly.

Pori stepped back. "You took it from the eagle?"

"No. I took it from the bear."

Pori lost all color from his face. He stepped back again and nearly fell into the fire.

"Prove it," he said but his voice wavered. "You lie."

The MaKennah tossed the heart into the fire where it flamed and burned bright.

I saw now there was a dark stain across the MaKennah's tunic, and blood dripped down his back and into the snow.

"Sehron, you are hurt." Jumping up, I pulled at his tunic. Across his left shoulder were five long, deep gouges, the mark of claws, bear claws.

"How is that possible?" Pedah asked and winked at me again. He hummed his thinking tune even louder as if it was a song.

"It was an eagle," Pori declared. "I saw a great black eagle. We all did." He looked at the boys for confirmation. Some looked back impassively while others just looked at their feet. Padim gazed up at Sehron adoringly.

"Perhaps you saw what you wanted to see," I said and led Sehron to the bucket of fresh water so I could clean his wounds.

"Thank you" I whispered as I gently dabbed at them. "Thank you for saving that boy."

He shrugged and winced at the sting.

A curious thing happened the next day. Pedah had presented Padim with the twenty bear claws the previous night. In the morning as we were all still tucked in our blankets, Padim arose and came to kneel before the MaKennah.

"MaKennah?" Padim whispered.

Sehron turned his head and silver light shone in the younger boy's face.

"These are for you. You were the one who killed the bear." Padim laid the claws on the ground.

"Thanks," Sehron replied softly. "Why don't you give them to the other boys? There is enough to give one to each of them."

"Ok!" Padim agreed heartily. "We could put them on a strap and wear them around our necks like a clan. Would you wear one too?"

"I guess I could."

Padim laughed. "That would be great! You have a funny accent, you know."

"Aye, I know this. I have a funny accent when I speak Mishnese too."

"What's it like in Mishnah?"

"Very different from here."

The boys were all awake now and listening. Some moved closer and were sitting with Padim.

"Are there bears there too?"

"Aye, in the forest, but not in the cities."

"Do you need to have a gun in the cities?" Limon asked. "I would like a gun much better than a sword. I would like to shoot. I heard the cities aren't safe for walking around. Could you walk around them, MaKennah?"

"Some parts aren't safe," Sehron replied. "But I didn't need a gun."

"Oh," Limon replied a little disappointed.

"I only needed a blade." Sehron smiled, and Limon smiled back.

"Cool."

"Yeah cool," the other boys echoed.

"Did you ever kill any Mishaks with it?" Ferren asked.

Sehron hesitated for a moment. "Aye," he said.

"How many did you kill?" Ferren begged. "More than one?"

"Aye," Sehron replied and pulled his blanket over his head. "More than one. Can't you guys let me sleep a little longer?"

"Come on, guys," Padim said now with authority. "The MaKennah wants to sleep some more so we will prepare his breakfast while he does."

The younger boys jumped up and ran about to heat water and cook. Pori watched all of this with increasing unease.

"I fear his term as leader is about to end," Pedah whispered, indicating the older boy.

"Aye," I replied, mocking Sehron's street Mishnese accent. "'Tis at that."

As the day went on, nearly all of the boys came to congregate around the MaKennah. As we rode the last few miles to Shrotru, Sehron's position on the outskirts had become the front as the boys jostled to stay near or behind him. Only Pori and his friend Karim remained ahead and Karim kept turning his head back to see what was happening. After breakfast, the boys had punched holes in their bear claws and affixed them to a leather strap. Only Pori did not wear one around his neck now.

We were greeted well in Shrotru. All the village has come to see us and the MaKennah. They stood in the streets and cheered as if we had just returned victorious from a great battle. Some ran forward with hands outstretched to touch the MaKennah. Both he and his crazy horse didn't like this and the horse reared upon his hind legs and bared his teeth although the MaKennah held on fast. Pedah and I instructed the boys to form a circle around him until we arrived.

The Chief held a great feast for us, and we presented him with both stag and bear. Then the Shrotru people brought us gifts of furs and food. Pedah and I accepted them on behalf of our father the King of all Karupatani. The Chief of Shrotru was last to present a gift. He knelt before the MaKennah as he would our father and presented him with an earring. On it dangled a Firestone. Firestones were extremely rare both in our continents and in Mishnah. The kings of both countries wore one on their finger, and it was these rings that showed they were kings. A fire burned in these stones which looked like diamonds.

The MaKennah accepted the gift and thanked the Chief. I would pierce his ear that night so he may wear it. Then the chief presented another gift. He called upon his two daughters who were both older than Sehron but not yet women. They made obeisance before the boy.

Pedah cleared his throat and announced to the chief that we cannot accept the girls. Our father has not yet decided who the MaKennah would betroth.

The Chief argued it was not necessary to betroth the girls. He may keep them as concubines.

He was too young to desire such, Pedah replied dismissively. He was not yet fourteen years.

The Chief asked the MaKennah to speak for himself whether he would have the girls. "Look how beautiful and supple their bodies are. You will take great pleasure in them. Their mother has given me many children and so shall they give you."

The MaKennah's eyes flashed although he looked as if he would laugh rather than anger. "Great Chief," he said carefully and slowly pronouncing our words. "I thank you for this gift of your two beautiful daughters. However, I must decline. I have no need of concubine nor wife at this time. I ask you let them be free to select husbands of their own choosing who they might live happily with."

"They would live happily with you!" the Chief insisted.

"I ask you let them choose for themselves," Sehron repeated in a commanding voice. "And I am not to be that choice."

The Chief stared for a moment at this boy who would order him as if he were already king. Then he bowed his head and retreated from our presence.

The next morning we departed Shrotru and journeyed back toward our own village. Pori and Karim were very animated. They rode at the front and were laughing and pushing each other on their horses.

"Thanks for refusing the Chief's daughters, MaKennah," Pori turned around and nudged Karim. There was a mockery in his voice. "Too bad you are still too young. We enjoyed them very much."

Sehron did not respond. His mind was elsewhere this morning. Padim and Limon were on either side of him, but he was oblivious to their chatter.

"I would like to ride in a speeder," Padim said.

"Me too," Limon agreed. "That would be so cool. I would like a gun and a speeder."

"I bet you could go really fast. It would be so cool to fly above the ground and look down on everybody."

"I bet you can't even see anybody down here when you are way up there."

"I bet we could be in Shrotru in five minutes instead of five days."

"Aye."

"Aye."

"Aye?" Pedah asked, laughing. "I don't recall you boys ever spending any time in Old Mishnah. Are you going to start speaking Street Mishnese too now?"

"Aye," Limon giggled.

"Hey Pedah," Padim called. "How come we don't have speeders in Karupatani? How come only the Mishaks get speeders?"

"We don't need them here," Pedah replied. "We have fast, strong horses. Mishaks don't have such beautiful horses."

"How come Prince Sorkan gets to have a speeder then?"

Sehron turned abruptly on Limon.

"Because he lives in Mishnah," Pedah replied noting the MaKennah's rapt attention with a wink at me. "He cannot cross the ocean on a horse, and he has not the patience to take a boat."

"Prince Sorkan is your father isn't he, MaKennah?" Padim asked.

"Aye," Sehron replied.

"How come he hasn't come to visit you here?" Limon said.

Sehron shrugged and then urged his crazy horse forward to get away from the boys and their questions.

"Why hasn't he come?" Pedah pondered aloud with a wry smile on his face.

"I don't know, brother," I replied. "Perhaps, it is because he is always too drunk."

"You think so? Has he ever met his son?"

I shook my head.

"Fortunately, his son has us," my brother declared.

"We are better than our brother anyway," I agreed.

"We are indeed," my brother nodded. "And we are almost never drunk."

The next two days were uneventful. The boys were tired from their journey and anxious to return home to share their stories with their families. The weather was good to us, and it even warmed enough so that the snow and ice had melted. During the course of our journey, the boys obtained a certain camaraderie and surprisingly, little Padim became the de facto leader of the bear claw clan if only because he ordered everyone to serve the MaKennah. If they were lucky, the MaKennah would reward them by answering some of their incessant questions that ranged from what sort of food was eaten in Mishnah to why running water was necessary in Mishnese homes.

Only Pori and Karim remained estranged from the bear claw clan. Pori was envious of his younger brother's new status while still professing a strong dislike of the MaKennah. There was an undercurrent of anger in him in all things now.

It was our last afternoon on our journey, and we were camped near a pool and waterfall just above our village. Beside us was a meadow that Pedah determined would work well for practicing warrior skills. When the boys had made the encampment and settled in, Pedah rounded them up again and bid them bring spears into the meadow.

First the boys must find suitable wood for the shafts and then attach their own spear points which they had all made before from ores or metals. While the boys were searching for wooden shafts, Pedah created a series of targets at various places around the meadow.

When the boys returned, there was a competition to strike the most targets and Pedah, and I watched with amusement. Some spears went wildly off target, others were very nearly accurate. The boys had great fun, and I complimented Pedah on his cleverness for thinking of this exercise.

Sehron sat down next to us as we watched the games.

"Why do you not participate?" Pedah demanded. "Are you already too perfect in this sport, as well?"

Sehron lit a Mishnese cigarette and shrugged. I watched carefully as he did this. He flicked his fingers, and a flame appeared from nowhere.

"How do you do that?" I asked. "Where do you get that from?"

He shrugged again. If he knew, he wouldn't say. Maybe he didn't know how he did all these things.

"I know," he replied, though I never voiced the question. "But you will not understand if I try to explain."

"You use Quantum Physics or something, and you think we are nothing but uneducated savages who will not understand these concepts?" Pedah mocked. "But you, a not quite fourteen year old does." Pedah had a doctorate in Mathematics from his time at the University.

"Something like that," the MaKennah replied and took a long drag on a cigarette.

"You did not answer me. Why do you not participate?" Pedah continued.

"I don't have a stick?"

"I'll get you one," I offered.

"I can't see?"

"That's not an acceptable excuse from you," Pedah replied. There was irritation in his voice. "Get up and hit those targets, now."

Padim raced over and offered the MaKennah his spear.

Sehron sighed heavily.

"'tis a bad idea, Chester," he said in Street Mishnese.

"Why?" I asked. "Chester?"

"Just do it," Pedah demanded.

Sehron pulled himself to his feet, tossing his still burning cigarette into the air where it disappeared.

He approached the first target and took up a position 50 feet away. Then, he threw the spear, and it struck and held exactly center of the target. The boys cheered and clapped. Pori smirked and crossed his arms in front of his chest. Sehron went to the second target at a distance of 100 feet. He struck that one dead center too. "Shall I continue?" he called to Pedah. "Chester?"

"Yes," Pedah demanded. "Chester."

The next target was 200 feet and that he hit dead on, as well. The boys went crazy except for Pori whose face had turned bright red.

Sehron waited.

"Keep going," Pedah called and then whispered to me. "I'm sure glad he's on our side. A few more years and Prince Akan won't be able to sleep at night."

Sehron lined up to take a shot at the next target which was 300 feet. He was about to launch the spear when another spear came flying through the air straight at him.

"MaKennah!" Padim screamed, and Sehron turned just in time for the spear to pass him and hit the boy who was standing off to his side, Karim.

"Ay yah!" Pori screamed. "Karim!"

Karim was shrieking wildly and pulling at the spear which was lodged in his shoulder just left of his heart. His tunic had stained bright red and blood was running down his hands as he fell to his knees.

Pori was at his side even faster than Pedah and I.

"I'm sorry, I'm so sorry," he cried and pulled at the spear which was tightly wedged in Karim's chest.

"Stop it," Pedah ordered. "Calm down, everyone. Karim, let me see."

Pori was frantic and pulled until the shaft broke off in his hand. There was only about 3 inches of wood remaining while the spearhead was lodged deep inside Karim.

Pori wailed and held out the broken stick for all to see.

"Shut the fuck up," Sehron said and knocked Pori aside. He moved in beside Pedah. "Don't pull it!" Pedah has already tried, and the remaining wood has come away in his hand. Karim now wailed and thrashed beneath him.

"We need to get back to the village right now," Pedah ordered, trying to stay calm although I could see the fear in his eyes.

"Pedah," Sehron said steadily, his silver eyes shining in Pedah's face. "We cannot move him. If the spearhead slips, it will sever an artery, and he will bleed out. Go to the camp and find a needle and thread. Also some clean cloth. Yes? Can you do this?"

Pedah looked stunned but slowly he rose.

"Pori," Sehron said in this strange calm voice. "Go with Pedah and get two buckets of boiling water. Can you be quick about it?"

Pori looked at Pedah and then nodded. The two of them ran back to our encampment.

"Padim," Sehron continued. "Take some boys and see if you can find some Echinacea and some Bayberry root bark. Do you know what they look like? Bring them back and using a heavy stone, crush them into a powder. After that we will add some hot water from Pori's bucket and make a paste. You understand, yes?"

"Yes, yes," Padim cried emphatically and grabbing two more boys, they ran off into the forest.

Sehron held a blade in his left hand and placed his right palm upon Karim's forehead.

"What are you doing?" I whispered.

Karim whimpered and shook, the color drained from his face.

"Karim," the MaKennah said. "You're going to go to sleep now. You'll feel better when you wake up."

Karim nodded, and his eyes closed, his head dropping to the side just as Pori returned with two buckets of sloshing water.

"What's wrong with him?" he cried. "Is he dead?"

"No, he's sleeping," Sehron snapped. "You bleeding idiot." He dipped his knife and his hands in one bucket.

"The water's boiling," I said as the MaKennah pulled his bright red hands back out. He took the blade and made four cuts emanating from the hole the spearhead had entered.

"I'm going to pull the skin back," he instructed. "Tuman, sterilize your blade as I just did, and we will use both to hold the skin away from the muscle." I did as he said, and we all watched in amazement as he folded the skin away. Then he gently moved the thick muscle about, finding the path of the spearhead and easing the bit of metal out of the tissue. Blood spurted from the hole.

"He's still bleeding!" Pori screamed.

Sehron stuck his finger back in the hole.

"What are you doing?" I said.

"Cauterizing it." There was a wisp of smoke and smell of burnt flesh. "Helps to have fire in your fingers." Smiling slightly, he pulled the torn pieces of muscle against each other and sewed them back together with the needle and thread which Pedah had brought. The boy made tiny neat little stitches as if he had done this a thousand times before.

"Not in this time," he remarked, diligently tying off the stitches.

"What does that mean?" I asked.

Sehron folded the cut skin back on itself and then proceeded to stitch that up, as well.

"Professor Pedah, you know of time waves and portals, do you not?" Sehron said as he worked.

"I do," Pedah was pale and acted stunned as if he was in shock. He focused his eyes on Sehron's stitching.

"So if I went through a portal to another time where I was quite adept at surgery and returned to this time and remembered my skill from the future time, have I done it yet or not?" Sehron wiped at the wound with sterilized water from the second bucket.

Padim has brought Echinacea and Bayberry root. Sehron added the boiling water and made a paste and then applied it to the wound.

"Bayberry is an astringent and will slow the bleeding. Echinacea is an antibiotic which will act as an antiseptic for us," Sehron instructed us. "They will keep away infection, and the wound will heal well."

Then he took some of the clean cloth that Pedah had brought and covered the wound. Using a larger piece, he wrapped a bandage around Karim's entire chest and left arm. Satisfied with his work, the MaKennah stepped back and rinsed his hands in the bucket.

"Have I done it yet or not?" He smiled at Pedah.

Pedah shook his head. "I don't know."

Sehron shrugged. "I don't know either but then, I'm not quite fourteen."

Pedah and I and two more boys crafted a sling for Karim and carried him back to camp where he slept the rest of the day. The other boys swam in the frigid waters of the mountain pool and then came to warm themselves by the fire.

Sehron was sitting in front of the fire when Pori joined him, sitting down by his side.

"You have a scar in the same place," he said. "I saw it when you were swimming."

"I do," Sehron agreed.

"How did you get it?"

"I was shot."

"How long did it take to heal?"

"About three months."

Pori nodded.

"You have other scars too. Why?"

Sehron shrugged. "Blokes kept trying to kill me."

Pori considered this. There was silence around the fire.

"You saved my brother's life, and you saved my best friend's life," Pori said softly. "I owe you mine." Pori knelt down in obeisance.

Sehron turned his face away from the fire and appeared to gaze off into the hills. "Your debt will be paid." Then he rose to his feet and walked away from our circle, disappearing into the twilit forest.

The next day we returned to our village. The MaKennah rode at the front with Pori on one side and Padim on the other. All the boys wore their bear claws, even Karim who was in pain but proud to sit his own saddle. My father smiled as we approach.

"A great adventure?" he said.

"You have no idea," I replied.

My brother hummed a few bars of his thinking tune and then smiled. "Unbelievable," he said with a shake of his head. "Truly unbelievable."

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# Chapter 14

# Tuman

OUR FATHER DECIDED that the MaKennah would be marked on his fourteenth birthday.

"You will be recognized officially as the Crown Prince of Karupatani when this happens," I said. "Chiefs from all over our country are coming to watch. It is a great honor for you."

"Is it?"

Rekah was sitting on the MaKennah's shoulders and pulling at his hair, giggling wildly as he did so.

"Go Senya, go!" Rekah cried. "Fast!"

I did not know how Rekah came to call him Senya. Rekah was also wearing three long black eagle feathers in his hair. I had never seen feathers like these before. They were long flight feathers with a white and grey eye design on their tips. They were beautiful feathers and would be worth much in trading. My son was rich already.

"It will hurt some," I continued, referring back to the marking ceremony. "But it will be permanent."

"Great." Sehron bounced Rekah up and down. "Not to worry. We're just going to cut off your arm so you'll remember who's really in charge here."

"We're not going to cut it off," I said. "We're just going to cut a...well a symbol into it."

"Ay yah. That's all I need, more piercings, cuttings, bleedings, burnings and tattoos. Rekah?"

"Ya, Senya?"

"You just treat me like a normal person, alright, yes?"

"Senya is my horsie!"

"Ah, that's right. I'm Rekah's horsie. That's why I'm getting branded. Silly me. The last bunch of blokes thought I was a dog and chipped me. The next bunch will think I'm a rat and put me in a cage and only give me scraps to eat." His eyes flashed brightly, and he swayed on his feet.

"Whoa," I said and grabbed my son off the MaKennah's shoulders before they both toppled. Sehron hunched down on the floor and put his hands over his eyes.

"What is it?" I asked.

All color drained from his face. He mumbled something in what sounded like Mishnese and then fell over on the floor and began to whimper.

"Sehron, what is it? What do you see?" I put Rekah down and knelt by Sehron's side.

Rekah knelt too and pounded Sehron's arm. "Senya! Senya! Wake up!" Rekah called and then burst into tears.

"Hush, Rekah," I snapped.

"Tuman, help me," Sehron gasped.

"How? What can I do?"

"Tuman?" His voice changed. He was back in the present.

"What did you see?"

He sat up unsteadily for a moment and rubbed his temples. "I'm sorry, Tuman. Please, just know I'm really sorry. Please come back. I want you to come back."

"Come back where?"

"Here. Rehnor."

"I'm going to leave Rehnor? How will I do that? Where will I go? What about my family?"

He shook his head and then clambering to his feet, he walked out the front door and disappeared.

"Interesting," my father said. "You will leave Rehnor. And of Pedah?"

"He didn't say anything more," I replied. I was irritated that my father accepted this with such nonchalance.

"You cannot change the future, my son," he said. "Because Sehron sees it does not mean he chooses this path for you."

"Yet he will do something for which he will beg my forgiveness and force me to leave my family and my home."

My father shrugged. "You may choose to be angry with him now for this crime of the future, or you may choose to accept what God has destined for all of you. Sehron does not act in a rash manner. Perhaps in the future he will have no alternative but to act in this matter that will anger you. Perhaps in the future beyond that time, you will understand the rationale behind his actions and you will forgive him."

I was angry already for something I knew nothing about.

We held the marking ceremony, and the symbol of the Great Black Eagle was branded on Sehron's left upper arm from shoulder to elbow. I was still angry and had no sympathy for him even though I was certain it was very painful. The skin was red and swollen for many days.

He left my house at night and went I knew not where and did I knew not what. I didn't care. I was angry.

"Get over it," Pedah said.

"You would be angry too if he said he would beg your forgiveness in the future."

"He doesn't speak of me in the future at all," Pedah replied. "He doesn't like me as much as he likes you."

"Maybe you're dead," I retorted. "Maybe he kills you because you always yell at him and argue."

"Thanks a lot," Pedah replied and now he was angry with me. He followed me home anyway. "What are you eating for dinner?"

"You don't like my wife's cooking," I reminded him.

"I don't care," Pedah said. "I am too tired and hungry to cook for myself today. Even your wife's cooking sounds appetizing."

Sehron and Rekah were sitting on the porch. Rekah was chattering away while sitting upon Sehron's lap. There was a group of young girls across the street watching them and giggling behind their hands. As we got closer we could hear Rekah's high sweet voice.

"I think that one is pretty, Senya," Rekah said pointing at one of the girls. "What is she thinking?"

Sehron whispered something in Rekah's ear, and he howled with laughter. "Why would she want to put your pee pee in her mouth?"

"Sehron!" I snapped even as my brother chortled with laughter. Sehron turned bright red.

"Senya's telling me what all the girls are thinking," Rekah cheerfully reported. "Those girls are silly."

"Rekah, go in the house," I ordered.

"No!" Rekah replied throwing his arms around Sehron's neck.

"Rekah!" I grew stern even as my brother was laughing so hard, he was buckled over at the waist, and tears were falling down his cheeks. "Do as I say."

"No!" Rekah screamed back. "Senya is Crown Prince, and you are plain Prince, so I don't have to listen to you. Senya says I can stay."

"No, I didn't," Sehron replied, unwrapping Rekah's fat little arms. "Do as your papa says."

"No," Rekah started to whine. "Please Senya. Tell me more what the girls are thinking. What about that one there," he pointed frantically.

"Rekah, go inside."

Rekah melted into a toddler's temper tantrum. I picked him up and placed him inside the door even though Garinka glared at me as I did so. She was nursing the baby and dinner was not even begun. I had to listen to her complain about how difficult her children were and how this was my fault. She wanted to go back to her mother's house in Shrotru. Right now I would be happy for her to do this but she must take the children with her. I would like the peace and quiet of my brother's house for my own.

When I returned to my porch, Sehron and my brother were arguing about a mathematical equation. I did not understand what they were saying or why it was important. They did not need me here on the porch. They would not miss me from this conversation. I thought my brother was wrong. Sehron favored him more than me.

A speeder came, a fancy one with the Duke of Segefor's crest embossed on the side. It was our brother.

"Oh Father!" he called as he walked up the village streets in his fancy Mishnese clothes. He was drunk, and it was only morning. "Dear King Father! Where are you?"

Pedah and I and the boys were in the meadow practicing sword play. We turned to look when we heard his voice.

"Go back to your estate in Segefor," my father said. "You're not wanted here."

"Oh my father, how can you speak to me your eldest and beloved son in this manner?"

"Sorkan, when you are no longer drunk, I will speak to you civilly."

"I have come to witness the marking ceremony," Sorkan announced grandiosely and staggered a bit.

"You have missed it," my father replied. "It was last week."

"It is on his fourteenth birthday."

"That was last week on the first," my father declared. "Go on, Sorkan, you tire me." My father turned to go back in his house but noticed Sehron standing off to his side. Sorkan followed his gaze.

"Ah," my brother cried. "This is him. Of course this is him. I have seen his likeness throughout Mishnah. That old toad Yokaa Kalila prints pin-ups of you by the millions. Even old ladies cream in their pants when they see you. My good looks and the Mishnah crown, the perfect combination." My brother bowed as if expecting applause for this pronouncement.

"They used to dream of me, you know," he continued, pulling a flask from his pocket and taking a long pull. "I used to be Crown Prince too. See, I was marked." He pulled up his sleeve to show the horse head branded on his forearm. "Now I am nothing," he declared with a chortle. "You're the pin up Crown Prince and I am nothing but the drunken one."

"Sorkan!" my father snapped. "Enough of this."

"Do you know wondrous, MaKennah," Sorkan took a step closer to the boy and pointed a finger in his face. "Do you know what they did to me? For you? To protect you? To protect your precious throne? They bloody sterilized me! You great and wondrous future King of Rehnor cannot have any brothers who might claim your throne, so I am the one who is emasculated. That Mishak bitch had it right dying at your birth, else they would have sterilized her too."

"Sorkan!" my father shouted again. "Go home."

But before anyone could react, Sorkan reached out and whacked the boy on the side of his head. The boy fell to the ground. Our boys all ran to his side. They surrounded him and Pori shouted at Sorkan to back off. Karim and Terrin pulled Sehron to his feet. His cheek was bright red.

"Well," Sorkan mumbled. "I see you've got your own army already."

"You bet he does," Padim declared and raised his sword. "You're not to hit him again!"

"Oh, I'm not allowed, am I?" Sorkan laughed and reached across the boys to grab Sehron's arm. He yanked Sehron from his army and dragged him across the street.

"Sorkan!" Pedah shouted. "This isn't funny."

The boy struggled against my brother but lost his footing and fell to his knees. Sorkan continued to drag him forward and down the street, laughing and drinking his booze as if this was some great game.

"Sorkan, what are you doing?" I yelled too.

"He's my son!" Sorkan called back. "And he's coming with me."

"No, I'm not," Sehron said and abruptly, Sorkan tripped and fell on his face. He tried to pull Sehron down with him but the boy twisted out of his grasp and before Sorkan could react, Sehron was sitting on his back, pulling his father's head back by the hair and holding a blade against Sorkan's throat.

"Ye gonna go 'ome now, Sorkan?" Sehron asked in Street Mishnese. "Or am I going to slice yer bloody throat?"

"You wouldn't!" Sorkan challenged.

"You don't know me, do you, Sorkan?" Sehron replied. "Of course you don't. You have no idea what I will or will not do." Sehron drew his blade down from Sorkan's ear to his Adam's apple. A thin line turned red and started to weep.

"Sehron!" My father stood in front of them, fists planted at his waist. "Get off him and put that away!"

"No, Father." Sorkan suddenly was weeping. "Let him do it. He started to kill me fourteen years ago. Let him finish the job now."

"Oh shut it, Sorkan," my father scorned and yanked the boy off of Sorkan's back. "Get to your room," he yelled at Sehron. "And you get out of here, Sorkan." My father turned and walked back to his house slamming the door as he went in.

Sehron walked back to my house but didn't go in. He disappeared around the side and was gone. The boys circled the house looking for him. Sorkan dragged himself to his feet and staggered back to his car and the driver who patiently stood waiting there for him. The black eagle with the white and grey eyes on his wingtips soared above us and then disappeared into the forest.

"Always interesting around here," Pedah smirked, a long piece of straw lodged in his teeth.

"Ay yah," I agreed. "Ay yah."

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# Chapter 15

# Berkan

"COME ON," HE YELLED at me. He was always yelling at me. I was innocently sitting in my room playing a game on the vid, and for no reason at all he came in and yelled at me to come on.

"Where?" I responded. I'm sure I said that belligerently but at the time I was sure any belligerence I felt was more than justified.

My father placed his hands on his hips.

"You don't deserve this."

"Whatever, dude," I shrugged killing at least three alien ships and damaging shields on a fourth.

"I said come on," my father repeated and turned the power off on my vid.

"What the fuck!?!" I demanded.

"Put on some clean clothes and brush your hair," my father ordered. I could see my mother peering at me from around his fat bulk. "Now!"

"Please Berkie," she said.

I slammed the door in their faces and dug through the pile of clothes on the floor for something resembling clean. I dragged a brush through my unwashed, uncut hair and examined my face.

"Dude, you need a shave," I said to the mirror.

"Do you think I need to shave?" I asked my parents when next I opened the door.

"Shave what?" My dad smirked. "Come on."

There were two limos out front.

"Cool!" I said as we climbed in one of them. "Where are we going?"

"Karupatani," my dad replied, opening one of his favorite candy bars and getting himself a drink from the car's bar.

"Oh awesome, dude!" I nearly screamed. "Hey can I have a drink too? Okay, how about a candy bar?"

We landed in Karupatani which looked just like this primitive forest village and the guys in the limo behind us got out too. I remembered two of them used to be our security guards way back when I lived at the Palace with Senya. The other guys were carrying cameras. This guy who looked like one of those Karupta princes met my dad, and we followed him down this hill and walked into the village.

"Awesome," I said. There was fire pits and little houses and shops, and the girls were all wearing these tight leather dresses with shells and sparkly things on them, and they all had this really thick beautiful straight black hair and junior Mr. Berkan was enjoying the show immensely, so I was like totally glad that my pants were really baggy because otherwise that bugger would have been leading the way.

"I'm going to go speak to King Merakoma," my dad told me.

"You may go find the MaKennah," the prince guy said. He spoke the Noble Mishnese, but he had a weird accent. "He is in the meadow over there. The boys are practicing sword play."

"Cool."

The photographers and I headed over to the meadow and no shit, all these Karut dudes were riding horses and racing around swinging swords at each other and targets and stuff. These little dudes were using like old fashion iron swords or something, but the bigger dudes were all swinging light swords.

"Fucking A!" I cried. "These dudes know how to use light swords!"

The dudes went racing up to the targets and blasted them into smithereens. The Karut dudes screamed and laughed when they did all this, and I for one couldn't understand a word they were saying. Then some big dude rode forward, and he was swinging like no tomorrow, and all of a sudden out of nowhere this other dude came on this giant black horse, and he pulled out this light sword and bam, the first dude lost his sword and fell off the horse. The Karuts went crazy cheering for the dude on the black horse, and the photogs next to me started snapping pics like they were going crazy too.

I realized then that the dude on the black horse was Senya. He was as big as the other Karut prince guy, and he had really long hair, but it wasn't straight like the other Karuts, but all wild and curly. Man, if I didn't know I was his best friend from way back I'd be scared shitless of him because he was one dangerous looking dude.

The big black horse stood up on his hind legs and practically flew across the field. All the other dudes, little and big, came racing across the field, and some big dude who looked like maybe he was a few years older than us because he really did need a shave, pulled one of the cameras away from the photogs and another guy tackled the other photog on the ground.

They started yelling at us in Karut and Senya was just sitting on that horse which was panting and snorting. Senya was watching this whole thing and then he started to laugh, and all the Karuts looked at him like he was fucking crazy or something.

Senya jumped off the horse and came over and smacked me across the back which sent me flying onto the grass.

"Berkie!"

"Fuck Senya," I said. "You gonna kill me, and I just got here." Then I thought that maybe that was the wrong thing to say because he was like, you know, the Crown Prince and all, and maybe I shouldn't be swearing at him.

I guess he didn't care because he reached down and yanked me up. He was taller than me and obviously a lot stronger, and the photogs were saying that they wanted to take pics of our reunion and would His Royal Highness be so kind as to tell the dudes to let them go.

The older dude called off the younger ones, and the photogs got up and dusted off and started snapping their pics. Senya introduced me to a bunch of the Karut dudes or at least I thought that's what he did and they kind of nodded and looked at me like I was from another planet or something. I guess he told one of the little dudes to take his horse because the kid did and then he and I walked back to the village.

The girls from the village and the old ladies too were all watching us and either they thought I was something special or they spent every day looking at Senya with their tongues hanging out because that's sure what they were doing now and the photogs were snapping up pics of all of this.

"So you have a fine bunch of women here," I said smiling at some of the girls. They laughed at me behind their hands.

"Are they?"

"Very. Maybe you could introduce me to some while I'm here?"

He shrugged. "Why are you here anyway?"

"My dad says that the King wants you back so you can start University in the fall. He wants you to go to the U of New Mishnah, and they've already made security arrangements. I guess he's delivering the news to your other grandfather."

"You going to go to University too?"

"Not yet, dude," I said. "I'm no brain like you, so I gotta stay in High School for a couple more years."

We came to the little house my father went in and Senya sat down on the steps off the front porch. He was wearing some dark sunglasses even though the porch was shady. He lit a cig, but he didn't offer me one even though I could really use one about now.

"What's with the glasses, dude?" I sat down next to him.

He lifted them up and showed me his eyes.

"Whoa, dude. Cover them back up!" His eyes were so bright now you can't even look back into them. It was like looking straight into the sun, and you'd go blind or something if you looked too long. "How'd that happen?"

Senya laughed. "Puberty."

"Shit man, the rest of us just got zits and grew armpit hair."

He laughed again. "You're a funny guy, Berk. Stay out of trouble, yes?"

"What d' you mean? My dad tell you something?"

"Haven't seen your dad in four years." He breathed out a cloud of smoke right into my face. "Just listen to me, Berk. Don't be a screw up. Get your head out of your ass and start studying. Go to University and get a degree in business management."

"Business management? What the fuck?"

"Just do what I say, Berk."

I was getting pissed. Who was he to tell me what to do? Talk about being a screw up. He was the king of screw ups.

"What the hell do you know?" I said.

He smiled at me in a patronizing way.

"I know everything, Berk. Remember? I'm telling you right now, stop shooting Horkin. You want to blow your brains out? I'll do it for you."

"Dude, I'm not..." I shook my head.

"You've got a death wish? That's why you are doing Horkin? I'll kill you instead. Will that make you happy?"

"I don't ...I don't have a death wish."

"You're going to kill yourself on it, Berk. You can't handle it. You OD'd twice already. You're not going make it the third time. I can put my blade in your neck, and you'll be done. No worries." He had a blade in his hand now. I jumped back. I forgot how he could make things come and go just by thinking about them.

"Senya...I..."

"Listen to me, Berk." He put his hand around my neck, and it felt like he could just snap my head right off. "I can Berk. You want me to break your neck? That sound better?"

"No, no," I gasped.

"You stop doing Horkin right now. You listen to your old man, and you clean yourself up. Then you go to University and do as I say. If you don't, I'll come after you."

"Ok," I whispered. He released me.

"You know what else, Berk? You know what I can do?" He took a long drag on his cig.

I shook my head.

"I can be here in Karupatani, and I can reach into your bedroom back in New Mishnah and crush your pathetic little throat."

"No shit?" I squeaked.

"No shit," he said with a shake of his head. He leaned back against a railing post and exhaled another cloud of grey cig smoke.

"Ok," I said. "No more shit. I'm clean."

"I'll know if you're not and I'll do it, Berk." He blew smoke in my face. "You wouldn't be the first fucker I killed, nor the last."

"I know, Senya."

"Sir."

"Huh?"

"I'm not Senya to you anymore. You do not deserve this privilege." He stood up and tossed his cig into the air. The door opened and my father came out.

"Your Royal Highness." My father bowed.

"Captain Loman." Senya let my father kiss his hand.

"I convey to you His Majesty's greetings. He will be pleased to see you looking so well."

"Please pass on my greetings as well," my former friend said. "And thank you, you and Rucia. Thank you for what you have done for me."

"My duty," my father replied. "And my honor."

My former friend went into the house, and my father and I and the other guys all left.

I guess I had to detox or something because the next week I was really jumpy and didn't sleep at all. After that I was okay. I started taking showers. I got my hair cut and I even wore clean clothes. Two years later I graduated high school with honors and started the University. My major, business management of course.

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# Chapter 16

# Tuman

MY FATHER AND BROTHER and I were sitting in my father's living room. The Mishnese emissary had just departed, and the MaKennah had joined us. He stood by the door for a moment and seemed to watch as the Mishaks departed, then he came to sit on the arm of the sofa next to me.

"Yokaa Kalila wants you back in Mishnah September first," my father said.

The MaKennah nodded. He already knew this.

"We knew this time would come," Father continued. "We knew your time here would be limited."

"I don't think you should go," my brother interrupted. "I don't think you will be safe. Captain Loman does not have enough loyalists that can protect you at a university."

"Perhaps you would be safer at the Royal Guard Academy where the students are already trained in security," I suggested.

"Security for who?" My brother protested. "Akan or the Karut prince who nobody has seen in four years and didn't like much before then because he made it clear he wasn't a Saintist. He needs to stay here."

"What think you of this, Sehron?" my father asked. "Several years ago you had a vision. You said you would be put in a cage, and Tuman would leave Rehnor. Will this happen if we release you back to Mishnah?"

Sehron crossed his arms and turned his blank gaze down to the floor.

"What will happen," he replied after a moment, "Will happen regardless of what we choose to do now."

"Do you know any more about this now? Do you know who your captors will be?"

"Mishnese."

"That proves it," my brother nearly shouted. "He cannot go back to Mishnah."

"Staying here is out of the question." I shook my head. "You think they will make him King of Mishnah while he lives here?"

"We will make him King of Karupatani while he lives there," my brother replied indignantly and got up to pace the room again. "Why should we be the ones to always accommodate them? He is happier here. He is safer here. He does not need to go to their university. He already knows bloody everything."

Sehron smiled. "Thanks Professor."

My brother who had no wife, no children of his own, that we knew of anyway, went over to the MaKennah and wrapped his arms around him.

"He is our blood. He belongs with us."

"He belongs to them too," my father replied with a heavy sigh. "Despite how we feel about it."

Pedah let go and resumed his pacing.

"I don't know," Sehron shrugged and smiled. "Why don't I just go off to...Rozari? Maybe there I can just belong to...myself?"

"What?" My father nearly fell from his chair. "You, of all people, cannot leave Rehnor."

Sehron was quiet for a moment. "I will."

"And Tuman will leave with you?" my brother asked.

"No. He will go his own way."

"And what of me?"

Sehron shook his head.

"What does that mean?" my brother demanded. "Am I dead?"

"That's enough fortune telling," my father snapped. "You're not dead, you're just staying here. Four sons and two grandsons and all are either dead or a bunch of fools, except perhaps little Rekah. It is still too soon to tell."

"You," he continued, pointing at Sehron. "Whether you go off to Rozari or not, you are still the MaKennah ka Rehnor, and like it or not you will rule this planet. Therefore, I want you and you, and you," he pointed at all of us, "To take your horses and whomever else you want and go tour as much of this continent as you can until September first. Since this is most likely the last time you will be in Karupatani for an extended period, you," he waggled his finger at Sehron, "Will find a wife or two."

Sehron's face turned pink.

"He hasn't even been with a woman yet. How's he supposed to find a wife or two?" Pedah smirked.

"He's only sixteen," I reminded them.

"Actually," Sehron cleared his throat. We all turned on him and stared.

"Well...um."

"You old dog you," Pedah chortled and punched the boy in the shoulder.

"It just that..."

"What?" my father demanded.

"I'm not going to take a Karupta wife. I won't have a Mishnese one either," he added quickly.

My father rolled his eyes and clasped his hands upon his forehead.

"Please don't tell me you favor men," he grumbled.

"No Sir, not at all. It's just that...she is Human."

"Who?" I asked.

"His wife, you idiot," my brother snickered.

"You're married already?"

"No, he's not," my brother replied.

"What are we talking about then?" I said, thoroughly confused.

Pedah started to laugh. "His wife is going to be from another planet."

"How is that possible?"

"Tell us, Sehron. Does she know what she's getting into?" Pedah asked.

"Not at all," Sehron shook his head and then mumbled, "She hasn't a clue."

"You've met her?" I asked. "A...what did you call her?"

"Human," Pedah chortled.

"Yes. And...and I've been with her," Sehron said hesitantly.

"Here?" Pedah hooted. "Or in Mishnah when you were twelve?"

"Well..."

"I haven't seen any humans around here, assuming I even know what they look like. Do they look different?"

"Does she have three teats?" Pedah was laughing so hard he was crying now, tears streaming down his cheeks. "If so, I would like one too."

"A teat or a Human?" I asked.

Sehron looked like he wanted to hide under the furniture.

"Where did you meet this girl, Sehron?" my father demanded, glaring at Pedah.

"On Earth? The planet she comes from?" The boy blushed furiously.

"You went to another planet?" I cried. "Recently?"

"You went to a planet called Earth and slept with a Human girl." My father looked and sounded very annoyed.

"Well...yes?" Sehron nodded.

"And how far away is this planet?" my father inquired still rubbing his temples.

"About 10 light years?" Sehron shrugged. "But it's still in this galaxy."

"Oh that's very reassuring," Pedah choked.

"How did you get there?" I asked.

"Um...well...um..."

"Let me guess," Pedah cried. "You flew all by yourself. Did you take a spaceplane or just use your own wings?" He doubled over and held his stomach.

Sehron turned his face to the window, but I saw a smile on his lips.

"I went metaphysically through a dimension that is not based on the same principles of time and distance."

Pedah stopped laughing and stared at the boy. "I've got to ask. Did you fuck her metaphysically too?"

"Um...yes?" the boy replied. "But it was still good."

My brother doubled over again.

"Get out of here," my father shouted. "Get all of you out of here. I don't want to see your faces back in this village before the end of the summer."

We all ran for the door.

It was a glorious summer. Though I missed my Garinka and Rekah and our infant daughter, Lookah, I loved being on horseback exploring the continent with my brother and Sehron. We brought Pori and Padim and their father, our friend Torim, as well as Karim and his older brother Terrin along with us. The boys had a tremendous time visiting the other villages and everyone was treated like princes whenever we arrived. All of the boys except young Padim enjoyed the company of many girls. Despite the fact that all the girls vied for Sehron's favors, there was no resentment among the boys in having to take his cast-offs.

"So tell me," Pedah said one evening. "Is it better physically or metaphysically?"

Sehron started laughing. "Most definitely physically."

I think it was the best time in his life. He was nearly fully grown, as tall and broad as my brother and I, and his skin had tanned to a golden hue, still lighter than ours but darker than most Mishnese. His eyes shown as bright as the sun, so much so that he had taken to wearing sunshades all the time just to protect our eyes from them. He was powerful physically and psychically. He could lift a horse and place it down elsewhere simply by thought. He could blast off the face of a mountain by pointing his finger at it. There seemed to be no bounds to what he could do but since he was happy and healthy and sixteen, he desired to do nothing but enjoy our adventure and enjoy the girls.

It was the last day of our great adventure, and we were camped in the hills above our own village. We had just arrived and the sun was setting. We were all anxious to return to our own home and our families, but this had been a monumental trip for us and neither did we want it to end.

We were sitting around our campfire, the evening was warm, and the two moons had risen. We had eaten dinner and were now smoking Barkuti while telling stories and remembering and laughing about our adventure. The boys were high on the Barkuti. For most of them it was the first time. Only Sehron had smoked it before, and that was in ceremonies that he was privy to and not the other boys. They were all lying on their backs and giggling except for Sehron, who rose to his feet, a worried look upon his face.

"What's the matter?" I asked.

He didn't answer but instead walked toward the edge of the cliff that overlooked the village. I followed him.

"Do you see anything?" he asked. "Over there." He pointed toward the ocean. As far as I could tell the night was quiet and there were only stars to be seen.

"I'll be back shortly," he said anxiously. "Get everybody up and hide in the forest."

"You have had too much Barkuti," I laughed. "You are imagining things."

"I hear something, Tuman. Do as I say." Then he was gone. It was dark, and it happened so quickly that I could not tell in which moment he had changed from man to raptor, only that there was a beating of heavy wings and a rush of air and the creature was in the sky heading towards the ocean.

I went back to our camp and told the others what he had said.

"He has had too much Barkuti," my brother agreed but dragged himself to his feet. We extinguished the fire and hid the horses and ourselves among the trees.

In less than an hour, the eagle soared back toward us at a rapid clip. Behind him were lights and now even I heard the sounds of speeders, large speeders, perhaps even trucks.

"We are being attacked," Torim whispered. "They came like this when your mother was killed. Those are trucks carrying many men."

Sehron crashed into the brush just steps from us. He was out of breath.

"Akan's troops," he gasped.

"They're not supposed to come for two more days," I said.

"The King's troops come for him, you idiot," my brother spat. "Not Akan's."

"We need to go fight them," Pori declared bravely. "We will not let Akan take the MaKennah."

"There are too many," Sehron replied as the trucks landed and troops ran out and overwhelmed our village. I could not count how many came, but our village was poorly defended. It had been many years since we battled the Mishaks on our land. We did not have more than a hundred men in our entire village, and that included both old and young.

"I will go and let them take me," Sehron said and made a move to show himself.

"You will not!" my brother hissed, pushing him back into the brush. "You will stay here and fight with us."

"Pedah's right, Senya," Pori said, and he and Karim grabbed Sehron's arms. Sehron shook them off.

"If I do not go, you will die!"

"That's absurd," Pedah replied, pulling his sword from his satchel. "There are few of us but we are strong. We will not turn you over to Akan." An explosion sounded from our village.

"Pedah!" Sehron cried, and his eyes flashed in my brother's face. "Don't..." Sehron began to sway on his feet. The boys grabbed him again as he fell to his knees. "Kari-fa, Pedah!" Sehron gasped.

"What is it?" Pedah knelt beside him, his face hard. "What do you see?"

Sehron shook his head. "Save your son, Pedah," he said under his breath. He turned his eyes on the friends who surrounded him. "It is as it should be. Makiri-ka te la'at, you are blessed."

A woman's scream carried up the hill to where we stood and was joined by another and then another voice. The Mishaks were raiding our village, breaking down our doors and invading our houses. Smoke wafted from the valley as the Mishaks set our homes on fire. Our women and children were dragged out into the streets, and then it was Rekah's voice that pierced the chaos, that rang in my ears louder than any other.

"Senya!" he screamed. "Senya save me!"

A Mishak had my son. I was nearly on my horse, but my brother had beaten me to it and tore down the hillside. It was so dark, and Rekah was only four years and was frightened. Pedah's horse was dark chestnut, and in the night he looked black.

"Senya!" Rekah cried, and lasers burst from Mishaks across the village and then Pedah was on the ground, trampled by his own horse's legs.

Now we were all mounted upon own horses with light swords ablaze. We were mad to be riding into this trap, but we had no choice. The Mishak who held Rekah released him and Rekah ran to my father. There were laser bursts from all around us as we raced down the hill and parried and deflected them, striking and slashing until all I could see and smell was blood and fire. My good horse crumpled upon his feet and died beneath me and still I continued to fight from my own feet.

Then suddenly, there was silence and a Mishak voice cried out that he was taken, and they began to clear from our village. I was left standing alone among dead horses and dead brothers. I turned myself around in a circle and gazed at what had become of my home. There was my wife weeping over my brother whose eyes were open but did not see, whose mouth was open but did not breathe. There were Mishaks standing before my father who held my son in his arms, covering his eyes so the child would not look. There was Sehron on the ground at their feet, bathed in a pool of his own blood.

"Prince Akan sends his greetings, King, and thanks you for taking such good care of his nephew," a Mishak spoke. "He wants you to know that now it is his turn to foster his nephew and he will not, unfortunately, be attending University."

He indicated to the others to take Sehron away, and they lifted him and carried him through the village toward their trucks. My father looked in my eyes and did not speak, but I knew. The time had come. I raced after the Mishaks although they raised their guns to me.

"I will go with him," I cried.

"Stay in your village, Karut," the leader said. "Hunt your rabbits and grow your corn and fuck your wife."

"I will go with him," I repeated.

The Mishak laughed at me. "He ain't going anywhere nice, Karut."

I threw myself to the ground and make obeisance at his feet. "I beg you let me go with him."

The Mishak kicked me with boots and steel toes.

"Let him," another said. "What do we care? There will be room enough for two when we get to there."

"Alright," the first one replied and someone grabbed me from behind and slapped cuffs upon my wrists.

They checked my torn and blood stained clothing for guns or knives and then I was tossed in the truck. Sehron was tossed in after me and crumpled into a ball where he landed. The doors were shut and we left Karupatani.

I don't know how long we travelled or how far. I believe at some point our truck was loaded into a freighter, and we left the planet. Sehron did not awaken the entire time. It was dark. I looked him over as best as I could, feeling his skin for wounds, finding clots and burns on his chest and back. He was hot and clammy, and his breathing was shallow and labored. I lifted up an eyelid and was not surprised to find his eyes a pale grey-blue color absent any silver light. He would live. I knew this with certainty, and I knew also that my brother was dead.

We arrived in the night of this place, and I was ushered by our captors into a processing center. It was a huge and ancient prison, and the guards were not people of Rehnor at all but men whose skin was tinted blue. They spoke a language that sounded like gurgling to me.

I was stripped and searched again. I was washed, and my hair was shaved away. I was given worn grey trousers and shirt to wear. Then I was put in an ancient cell with bars for a door and stone walls. There was no window. It smelled of urine and other bodily fluids and vermin scampered across the floor. There were two cots with thin mattresses, each with a small blanket and a hole in the ground to use as a toilet. There was a pipe from the wall which dribbled water when the stopper was pulled. There were men in the cells around and across from me and they called and whistled at me in languages I did not understand.

Twice daily I was given a dish of grey mash to eat and a cup that I could fill with the rusty water that dribbled from the pipe. In the day, I was taken to the laundry where I washed by hand filthy towels and linens. My hands were raw from the boiling water, and I felt I was half the size I was before from lack of food, but I did not care. I tried to ask where Sehron had gone, but no one answered. No one understood me. No one spoke Mishnese here. Akan had safely hidden us away.

After nearly two months' time, Sehron was brought to my cell and laid on a cot. His eyes were grey and stared blindly at the ceiling. His hair was shaved and like mine had grown only a few inches since then. He was painfully thin, his bones jutting from his shoulders and chest as mine must have been. The men in the cells across from us made noise and banged their cups against the bars.

"Sehron?" I whispered. "Are you okay?"

He shook his head ever so slightly.

"You are hurt? Your wounds have not healed?"

He shook his head again and turned away from me. He thought I could not see the tears that fell from his useless grey eyes. He did not eat the gruel we were given although I tried to feed it to him as if he was an infant. In the morning, I was released to the laundry but he remained unmoving on the cot. In the afternoon, I returned to find him still there. I lifted up his blanket to see his wounds, to see how he had healed. He made a noise such like an animal and cowered from me, his own brother-uncle.

Now I knew what had been done to him. I was in a fury. I was enraged. My burnt hands and weakened body were nothing to what cruelty had been inflicted upon my brother-nephew. I vowed to kill whoever had done this. I flung the gruel against the wall and it made a mess as the tin plate clattered to the floor. I paced the small cell and contemplated what I had to do. I was not sent here just to witness. I was sent here to help, to protect him. I was only a man, I reasoned, one man with no special powers.

In my mind, I saw Sehron as he was only a few short months ago. He was astride his crazy black horse and his hair was long and wild as he galloped across the meadow with his light sword ablaze. He could move mountains then simply by willing it. He could change into the great black eagle and rip out a bear's heart. He could do it again if he grew strong. I could not rescue him, but I could make him strong again so he could rescue us.

"Eat," I commanded and taking the one remaining dish of gruel, I forced a spoon into his mouth. He turned his head from me. I held his head flat against the mattress and shoved the spoon between his teeth. "From now on," I declared. "You will eat both plates in the morning. I will only eat mine at night."

He tried to shake his head but couldn't because I held him tight and forced another spoonful in his mouth.

"You will get strong again," I said. "And you will kill the men that have done this to you. And then, we will get out of here and we will go to Mishnah, and we will kill Akan."

Tears dribbled from his eyes, but he swallowed and swallowed the next and the next until the dish was done. I gave him a cup of water from the pipe and held his head while he drank.

"I'm sorry, Tuman," he wept. "I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault," I whispered and held him as if he were Rekah. I remembered a time several years ago when I was angry at him for an unknown crime and he begged me for forgiveness. Was that time now? Why was I angry when it was never his fault?

"You're here because of me."

"No," I said.

"Pedah is dead because of me. All of them are dead because of me."

"Pedah, all of them, are dead because of Akan and his Mishaks."

"I should have just given up. Pedah would be alive."

"No," I snapped. "You will never give up. I won't let you." And I shook him. "Stop crying! That's enough. You know what you need to do, so now do it."

"Let me be," he whimpered and pulled the blanket over his head, curling up on the cot like a baby.

In the morning, I refused my gruel and left the plate beside his bed. I went to the laundry and listened to the odd gargling voices of the other prisoners and I didn't give a whit what they were thinking or saying.

When I returned in the afternoon, Sehron had eaten both plates. He was sitting in a corner of the cell chewing on something with a long hairless tail.

"I guess that's good." I swallowed hard and tried not to retch. "Protein, yes?"

He shrugged. For a moment, I saw a shadow of who he was and would become again.

The next day he was well enough to come with me to the laundry. He stood beside me and washed the linens and soon his hands were as red and swollen as mine. In the evening, the blue guards came and dragged him from his cot. He returned in the morning and refused to leave his bed again for several days.

I made him eat the gruel and drink the vile water, and when he was well enough, he caught the rats in the cell and ate them, as well. Days and nights passed, and I could not say how many but it seemed like an eternity. Then, one morning, I looked at him and he turned to me and gazed upon me with the silver light.

The prison closed. We were there nearly six months. Three guards were killed during the night by a great beast. The rest of the guards quit and refused to re-enter the compound. We were transferred to the child moon of Rehnor and assigned to work in the quarries.

The Lord Governor there was a Mishak and known to be a friend of Akan. His wife was distantly related to the Kalila family. I did not know if the Lord Governor knew the identity of his new Karupta prisoners. I was known only as Tuman, and my brother was Senya. I suspected the Lord Governor did know, but Akan had paid him well to keep silent.

It was better in the quarries than the laundry although it was always dark and I craved the sun. Senya was indifferent to it. We mined the ores and loaded the rocks into carts, and it was back breaking work, but we ate well so we could stay strong and work hard. Both of us had filled out again. Our muscles had grown big and rock solid, and our hair was long and tied in plaits.

We worked from six to six and then we returned to our cells to eat and rest. It was the same every day. We were given a pittance of wages so that we might buy cigarettes or candy or if we are truly lucky, Horkin from a guard. Senya bought the Horkin and shot up as often as he could. It was the only way he could get through the day. I gave him my money to buy as much as he needed. I prayed that he and I would think of a way to get out of this place. He was strong, but we were trapped in an air bubble on a dead moon. His eyes were bright, but there was a madness to them, and he rarely spoke. When he did it was only in the Street Mishnese of his youth. He never spoke of the future or alternate dimensions or metaphysical travel. That boy died with my brother.

The whores came every month, and we could use our coins to buy them. I did because I missed the touch of woman even if I might have her only for a few minutes. Senya was so beautiful they would give themselves to him without a coin, but he had no interest. He recoiled in the corner of our cell and cringed if anyone should touch him.

"Your brother is crazy," one girl said to me. She gazed at him the entire time although it was I who filled her. "But he is beautiful. He looks like the dead MaKennah."

"The MaKennah is dead?" I asked. "How do you know this?"

"Oh," she said still gazing upon him but not seeing him. "He was killed many years ago by the Karuts because he wanted to come back to Mishnah and they wouldn't let him. I guess you didn't know this because you were here."

"Who said this?" I demanded.

"Oh," she thought for a moment. "Prince Akan. That was why he attacked the Karuts. He punished them good."

I cried and then I prayed that my father, if he still lived, would discover where we were and call Captain Loman to rescue us. I prayed that my wife and children remembered me. I prayed that I would change my mind and would want to return home once I was released. I was twenty-nine years old when we came to the Child Moon. I was thirty-nine, when we left.

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# Chapter 17

# Katie

ONCE, WHEN I WAS ABOUT nine years old, as I was climbing a tree in the park behind my elementary school because some bratty boy had dared me to do it, I fell down and broke my leg. I was wearing my fuzzy Ugg boots which were not only the height of fashion in those days but very warm. Unfortunately, they had no grip on their soles and as soon as I got up to my destination branch and let go with my hands, I went crashing to the ground. School had let out for the day, so no teachers were around, but my girlfriend had a cell with which she called her mom, while the boy, who had dared me to climb to that dangerous height, ran off, certain he would catch it for having killed me.

My girlfriend's mom rushed me to the emergency room and waited until my own mom arrived. Then, due to the severity of the break, I had surgery. I spent one woozy night in the hospital and was released the next day, cast in a very heavy and awkward apparatus with orders not to move from my bed for a minimum of two weeks, except to get up and use the bathroom.

I lay in my bed the next night, stiff and drugged with painkillers but hurting enough I was unable to sleep. Just before midnight, my dad popped in to check on me, refilled my water glass, and dosed me with another round of child size Vicodin.

"Leave your vid on if you can't sleep, Sweetheart," he said shutting the door behind him.

So, I did, staring dully at the bright cartoonish pictures that played as reruns throughout the night, until a light appeared in the middle of my bedroom as if a door was opening. Calmly, I watched as a boy stepped through and the light disappeared. The boy remained there though, standing dumbly in the middle of my room and equally as dumbly, I stared at him.

"Allen is the next room," I said for my initial impression was that he must have been a friend of Allen's. He looked about the same age which was at that time twelve years old.

"Are you having a sleep over?" I asked, guessing that he had gotten up to use the bathroom and gotten lost on his way back. I didn't recognize him. He had longish, wavy black hair and was dressed only in a pair of pajama bottoms. His eyes were shut tight. Perhaps he was sleep walking?

"Allen, Allen!" I called into the night. "Your friend is here!"

The boy sat down against the wall by my closet wrapping his arms around his knees as my father came rushing into the bedroom.

"What's the matter, Katie?" he demanded groggily. "It's three in the morning."

"Allen's friend came in my bedroom by mistake," I said pointing at the boy.

My father turned and looked at the wall and then rubbed his eyes.

"Allen's friend?"

"Yes," I cried. "The one who is sleeping over." Emphatically, I wagged my finger.

"There's no one sleeping over," my dad sighed. "There's no one in here but you and me."

"But there is!" I insisted. "He's right there."

"You're imagining things, Katie Anne," my mother snapped, coming into my room, as well. She was wrapped in her gold silk satin bed robe, and her hair was tied up in a knot on top of her head. I loved that gold robe and considered it the most beautiful garment I had even seen. When I was smaller, I would play dress up in it, putting my hair in a knot on my head and then adorning it with a paper crown. My mother would say I looked just like an angel without wings. I imagined my six year old self looked exactly like a princess.

"Could it be the Vicodin, Manny?" my mother asked, nervously putting her hand upon my forehead to check for a raging fever.

"Probably," my father yawned. "Let's try not to give it to her tomorrow."

"Well, who is the boy sitting there?" I demanded.

"There is no boy, Katie Anne," my mother sighed. "It's your imagination. You don't have a temp. Just go back to sleep and he will go away."

"But I wasn't asleep," I insisted. "I was watching Nick Jr. reruns. He's sitting right there still. I can see him."

"Sweetheart." My father perched on the bed and stroked my face. "All the medication you've been taking is giving you hallucinations. Don't worry, there is no one and nothing here to hurt you. Go back to sleep and we'll call the doctor in the morning and see if we can get you something else to take." With that, he and my mother left the room and soundly shut the door.

"But!" I called after them.

"Shhh!" the boy said. "Don't call them back." He said this directly into my head. The only sound in the room was the laugh track on the silly cartoon.

"Who are you?"

He pulled himself to his feet and walked toward me. As he came closer, I saw terrible bruises and wounds on his skin. His ribs looked as if they were bashed in and his chest had spots of purple, yellow and deep red. There was a wound just below his right shoulder that looked as if it were still bleeding and there was another one through his left breast that was puffy and red and still another just right of his belly button. His right arm was bent crooked and swollen.

I covered my mouth with my hand and tried not to scream.

"Are you a ghost?"

"Nearly," he replied.

I made some kind of noise. You know, the kind you of noise you make when you're trying to scream, but no sound will come out.

"No, I'm not a ghost," he said, probably noticing how my cast was shaking wildly. "But I'm sort of not really here either."

He climbed into my bed and lay down next to me.

"What are you doing?"

"You're hurt, and I'm hurt so I'll stay here with you and we'll get better together. You don't need to be afraid. I'm your friend."

I glanced cautiously at his face. He had long, black eyelashes covering his closed eyes.

"Can you open your eyes?"

"No," he said. "Not until I get better and then I'll have to go back."

"Back where?"

"To my body."

"Your body's not here?" I hesitantly touched his hand. "I can feel your hand."

"That's because I want you to," he said in my head. "I want you to hear me and understand me too even though I don't speak your language."

"Okay," I replied in my innocence. "Whatever. What's your name?"

"Senya." He yawned.

"I'm Katie."

"I know." He burrowed in next to me. "May I hold your hand?"

"Okay. You don't have cooties or anything yucky, do you?"

"No," he mumbled. "No cooties."

I gave him my hand and in a short time, I was sound asleep too.

"How are you feeling, Katie Anne?" my mom asked the next morning as she came in with a breakfast tray.

"Fine," I replied. "But the boy is still here."

My mother left with a stricken look on her face.

"Don't say that," Senya told me once she was gone. "No one else can see or hear me. She'll think you are crazy and put you on even more drugs."

"Maybe I am crazy," I suggested.

"You're not," he said still clutching my hand.

My mom called the doctor anyway, and I heard her whispering to my dad outside my door. It was normal for a child who was traumatized to invent an invisible friend for a while. "He'll go away as soon as she is better," she said.

"Will you?" I asked.

"I'll go away when I am better," he mumbled. He tried to sit up and leaned against the wall for a little bit but then he got too dizzy and slumped back down. I felt very sorry for him and did my best to keep him warm by tucking the blankets around him, and I made certain he got most of the pillow. At night he curled around me and held my hand.

"Do you want something to eat?" I asked one morning. "Don't you need to go to the bathroom sometimes?"

"I told you, my body is not here," he replied tiredly as if he had not slept all night. His wounds looked puffy and gross in the daylight.

"Where is your body?" I turned on my side, propping my foot on top of the pillow my father had left at the base of my bed.

"Far across the galaxy on my planet in a hospital bed on life support."

"What happened to you anyway?" We were face to face, nearly bumping noses.

"I got shot and then fell off the roof onto a marble terrace."

"Ew," I whispered since we were so close together. "That's terrible. Why did someone shoot you?"

He didn't respond. I think he fell asleep although his breathing was hard and unsteady. "Better sleep some more." I pulled the blanked all the way up to his ear.

It was boring lying in bed for two weeks. Even with Senya there to talk to, I was restless and itchy. I had a stack of books to read already loaded onto my tablet and to keep Senya entertained, I decided to read the classic Harry Potter series first. After the first fifty pages, Senya called Harry Potter a twit and was not impressed by the wizardry at all.

"Harry can do cool magic things," I insisted. "Let's read more."

"I can do cooler things," Senya replied a little huffily although today he looked even more ghostlike than before.

"Really? Do something then," I challenged.

"I'm here, aren't I?"

"That's not enough," I protested. "Do something magical."

"I can't. I'm sick right now. Read something else."

"You can't do anything magical. You're fibbing."

"Of course I can and I can do it without saying silly words or waving around a stick."

"Can you fly on a broom?"

"I can fly without a stupid broom."

"But you can't right now because you're sick. Sure."

"Yeah."

"Do you have a cape like Superman?"

"No," he scoffed. "I have wings."

"Where?" I look him over searching for wings. "You are lying."

"I'm not. I don't lie."

"You are. You're a liar and a bratty boy. I like Harry Potter better than you."

"Fuck Harry Potter," he hissed and turned his back to me.

"Senya, don't swear!" I practically screamed and slapped him on his back. He ignored me and wouldn't speak to me for the rest of the day.

The next day I apologized for hitting him and then we watched a Disney movie and played vid games. Rather, I watched the movie and played vid games, and he listened with his eyes closed and made comments, which sometimes riled me with his criticisms, and other times were the funniest things I'd ever heard.

My parents truly thought I had lost my mind. I was constantly chatting, laughing, sometimes snapping and later playing board games and cards with my invisible friend.

By the second and third week when I was allowed out of bed and into a chair or the sofa, Senya, too, seemed to be improving and would sit up for several hours. We would play chess; I, white, and him, always black. He would move the pieces without even touching them which I guess was an example of his cool powers. He always won, he never let me win just to let me win, and he would lecture me on what I did wrong which really annoyed me. At some point I decided that he was winning because he played black and I insisted we switch sides. He took white and promptly beat me in five moves.

One night we were playing chess, and I had lost four times in a row. I was so pissed off that I told him I was never going to play chess with him again even though he had waved his hand and reset the board for a new game. He smiled at me as if he knew a great secret and replied that I would.

"No, I won't," I insisted and moved as far away from him as the twin bed would allow.

"You will be the white queen, and I will be the black king," he said. "Do you know what the queen's job is?"

I shook my head.

"To wear pretty dresses, smile at the people, and fuck the king."

"Senya!" I shrieked. "Don't talk nasty!" I shoved him against the wall as I hard as I could. He pushed me back and I nearly toppled out of the bed and onto my head. I screamed at the top of my lungs as he grabbed my arm and yanked me back up.

"Get out of here. I hate you! I don't want you here anymore!"

"Are you fighting with your invisible boyfriend?" Allen said, sauntering into my room with an ice cream cone dripping down his hand and onto my rug.

"Get of here, Allen!" I screamed for good measure, tears rolling down my cheeks, furious at Senya and now Allen.

"Poor Katie," Allen sighed dramatically while licking his ice cream. "They're going to have to lock you away in the funny farm. Fighting with your invisible boyfriend." He shook his head. "Since you're going to be leaving anyway, I think I'll take some of your stuff. How about this?" He looked at my shelf and selected my favorite Breyer plastic horse, a black thoroughbred stallion. Grabbing the horse, Allen started to leave the room.

"Allen!!" I shrieked. "Give it back!"

"Nope," Allen replied and waved it around. "Giddi-up Midnight. Let's go see what GI Joe is doing in my room."

I started to yell again, but all of a sudden, the horse just flew out of Allen's hand, soared across the room and landed in my lap.

"Hey!" Now it was Allen who screamed.

"Ah!" I nearly jumped out of bed.

"How did you?" Allen looked at me with wide eyes. As he said this, the ice cream cone flew out of his other hand and smacked right into his forehead. "Ahhh!!!" Allen cried.

"What the hell is going on in here?" my mother shrieked, bursting into the room. "Allen you are making a mess! Get that out of your hair and go throw that away! Katie Anne, what is all this noise about?"

"I almost fell out of bed," I sniffed meekly and snuffled some tears. "It hurt."

She came over and ran her hand across my forehead. "Maybe I should give you another pain pill," she muttered.

I shook my head sadly. "I just want to take a nap."

"Ok Sweetie." She turned off my bedside lamp and kissed my forehead. "Allen, what are you still standing for? Go on!" She hustled him out the door.

I lay back on my pillow hugging my horse and cautiously looked at Senya. I realized then that since Allen saw the horse fly across the room and got the ice cream stuck on his head, I didn't imagine it and so I must not be imagining Senya. I wasn't crazy after all.

"Say you're sorry," I whispered.

"For what?"

"For sticking an ice cream cone in Allen's hair, pushing me off the bed and swearing."

He thought about this for a minute.

"I'm sorry for pushing you off the bed and swearing, but I'm not sorry about your brother. He's a twit."

"Yes, but you were mean to him."

"He deserved it. He's mean to you."

"He's my brother," I explained. "That's the kind of thing big brothers do. Don't you have any brothers or sisters?"

He shook his head.

"Do you have a mom and a dad?"

"Not really." He yawned and looked very tired.

"Well who takes care of you?"

He shrugged. "Taner, I guess."

"Does he do stuff like pack your lunch for school and...and decide if you need more medicine?"

Senya shrugged again and then burrowed down in the blanket without answering. He was quiet and pretending to sleep.

"You have crooked teeth," I said a few mornings later. "You need braces." I was an authority on braces since I had avidly watched Allen get his on.

"Really?" Senya replied. He was stretched out on top of the blankets today with his hands propped behind his head. He seemed to be feeling better. The wounds on his stomach weren't quite as puffy and bruised looking anymore. It was Sunday morning, the sun was shining in through my windows and the next day, I was going back to school.

"Yes." I pointed at his incisors, which were longer than his other teeth and curved. "Only on those teeth though. The rest are straight."

"Which ones?"

"These pointy ones are all bent." I touched his tooth with my finger. It was sharp, much sharper than my own teeth. "See how mine are straight?" He touched my tooth with his finger. Then he touched the rest of my teeth and my tongue. I sucked on his finger and giggled. This was silly. Both of us had a finger in the other's mouth. Then, he touched my face gliding his fingers across it like a blind person would. Abruptly, he turned away from me and faced the wall.

"What's wrong?" I asked.

"Nothing," he mumbled. "Leave me be."

"Why?" I climbed on top of him and stuck my tongue in his ear.

"Just go!" He shoved me off.

"Stupid bratty boy." I shoved him back and then climbed on top of him again, pinning him face down on the mattress with my heavy cast.

"Let's play beauty parlor. Your hair's a mess. I'm going to brush your hair." I snatched my hairbrush off the bedside table.

"Leave me be!" His voice was muffled by the pillow.

"Maybe I should cut your hair," I mused, pulling the brush through his long wavy strands. "Your hair is way too long for a boy. See how short Allen's is?"

"I don't want my hair cut."

"Why not?" I brushed it until it shone. Then I played with it, braiding and twisting it. "It's sort of uneven. It's longer on this side than over here. If I cut it, will it be cut wherever you really are?"

"No."

"If somebody cut it there, would it be cut here?"

"Yes. They are already cutting it. That's why it is uneven."

"Who is cutting it?" I made a pony tail.

"The nurses and the doctors. They are taking bits of it when Taner's asleep."

"Why are they taking bits of your hair?" I leaned down and put my face next to his so that our cheeks were rubbing together. I could feel his eyelashes on mine.

"They sell it."

"You're making that up. Who'd want to buy bits of your hair?"

"Get off me!"

"Fine," I said and climbed off him. "I'm done playing with you anyway." I got out of bed, threw on my ugly blue terrycloth bathrobe and headed to the kitchen to get some Corn Pops before my mother made me eat an egg.

The next morning, I dressed myself for school. I was wearing a walking cast now and could move about fairly easily. As I slipped my school sweater over my head, I turned back to look at Senya. He was sitting up on the bed looking at me, and for the first time, his eyes were open. Silver light streamed out from beneath his long black lashes.

"OMG!" I cried. "What's wrong with your eyes?"

"This isn't wrong," he replied. "This is how they are supposed to be. I'm better now."

"Are you leaving?"

"I will soon. Today I want to come to your school with you."

"You can't come!" I protested.

"Why not?"

"Well," I fumbled. "You're not in fourth grade, right? You're in seventh grade, like Allen. That's in a whole other building. You'll have to take a different bus."

Senya cocked his head a little and his weird eyes flickered. "I don't know what grade I'm in," he said after a bit.

"Well, you're twelve, right? Like Allen?"

He nodded.

"So that's seventh," I concluded. "You need to go to school with Allen."

"I will come with you just for today."

"Do you promise to behave?" I demanded, planting my fists on my hips. "And I mean it, Mister."

He nodded again.

"Okay," I agreed. "But you can't talk to me, especially when I am in class. You have to promise to be perfectly quiet."

"I promise," he said and stood up. He towered over me. I guess I didn't realize he was so tall when he was lying in my bed.

"Wait outside for me," I told him and headed to the kitchen for my breakfast and lunch bag.

"Are you sure you're going to be alright?" Mom called as I headed out the door.

Senya was waiting on the front stoop dressed in his pajama bottoms. If anybody saw him they'd probably laugh, so I figured it was a good thing only I could see him. He had his face turned to the sky like he wanted to get a sun tan even though it was pretty cloudy and would probably rain all day.

"I'm fine," I yelled back to Mom.

"This is a nice place you live," Senya said as we headed up to the bus stop which was on the corner a few steps from our drive.

We boarded the bus together, and since I was still in a cast, the bus driver gave me the front row. Senya sat down in the empty seat next to me. He looked strange in the bus, so much bigger than all the other kids. He looked different too with his shiny black hair, pale skin and weird flashing eyes.

"You look like an alien," I realized.

"What was that, Katie?" The bus driver called over his shoulder. I bit my lip.

When we arrived at the school, Senya walked beside me as I headed to the classroom and sat down at my desk.

"Welcome back, Katie," my teacher, Mr. Hopper said.

"Thank you," I replied, distractedly watching Senya wander around the room touching everything, the globe, the maps, the books, the vid, the chairs and tables and finally settling on the couch that was really for the parents who wanted to come watch in the back of the room. He didn't stay there long though. For a guy who had been in bed for nearly three weeks, he now couldn't seem to sit still. All morning long he was walking up and down the aisles of the classroom seemingly right in front of the teacher and the other kids. He stood next Mr. Hopper while the teacher explained how to do our math problems by writing everything out on his screen. Senya came back and squatted down next to me.

"This is too simple for you," he said.

"Mhm," I agreed. "But sometimes it's harder."

"What?" Peter said from the seat next to me. Peter was one of the popular boys and had always been mean to me. "This is too hard for you, Katie? Are you stupid?"

"Shut up, Peter," I replied.

"Shut up, Peter," he repeated in a simpering voice. "You gonna make me, Katie?"

I turned my back to him and tried to continue my work when I felt a spit wad hit the back of my head. Another hit my cheek. Peter howled with laughter.

"Stop it, Peter," I growled and just as I did so, Senya stood up, went over to Peter and pulled him up and out of the desk with one hand wrapped around the boy's neck. Peter's eyes practically bugged out of his head. Senya was holding Peter up in the air, his feet barely touching the floor, and his face was turning blue.

"What's going on here, Pete?" Mr. Hopper trounced over. "Stop goofing off and get back to work."

Peter made a choking sound.

"Senya!" I hissed. "Put him down!"

Peter dropped on the floor gasping for breath and rubbing his neck.

Mr. Hopper helped Peter up. "You okay there, pal?"

Peter burst into tears and snot ran down from his nose. I looked away because it was gross. Senya was back on the parents' couch again. "There was a kid," Peter wailed. "A real creepy looking kid with long black hair."

"There's nobody in here like that," Mr. Hopper said doubtfully. "Maybe we ought to get you to the nurse's office."

Peter wailed even louder as the recess bell rang. Everyone bolted out of their seats and out the door.

During recess, I didn't play with anyone. I had been absent for so long that my friends all forgot about me. Mary Beth Stevens, a popular girl was playing jump rope with Adrienne and Leslie which made me madder still. Did Adrienne and Leslie actually think they were popular too? I was having a totally rotten day, and it was still morning.

"You want to hold the rope?" Adrienne asked me.

"No way, not her," Mary Beth scolded Adrienne. "She's not cool even if she has a cast."

"Shut up, Mary Beth," I said, distractedly scanning the playground for Senya. Maybe he stayed in the classroom. I started to worry about what kind of trouble he might have gotten in to.

"You shut up, Katie," Mary Beth replied. "Nobody likes you anymore."

"Shut up, Mary Beth!" I practically shrieked. "Or I'll..."

"You'll what?" she said still jumping and doing a double deluxe skip with two ropes. "You gonna chase me with your broken leg?"

"I'll..." I was about to say when all of a sudden Mary Beth caught her foot between the ropes and tripped, landing flat on her face. She let out a wail as blood gushed from her nose.

"Mary Beth!" My former friends, Adrienne and Leslie cried. "Duty! Duty! Help!"

Mary Beth was screaming and crying and her face was covered in blood as the Duty came running up. They all carried Mary Beth off to the nurse's office. Adrienne stuck out her tongue as she passed me.

My nose hurt, and I didn't even fall on it. I turned to go back to the classroom and spied Senya leaning against the building wall that was used for bouncing balls by yourself.

"You did it!" I realized and then quickly looked around in case anyone heard me.

"She was unkind to you." He shrugged.

"Come on." I grabbed his arm. I pulled him over to the fence line where I could look at the trees in the woods and pretend I was talking to a bird or a squirrel or something. "You hurt Mary Beth and Peter. How could you do that, Senya?"

He shrugged again.

"Senya?" I cried. "That's so cruel. That's...that's like evil."

His eyes flashed.

"I don't want anyone to be mean to you."

"Well, you don't have to hurt them! I don't like them either, but I wouldn't do things that would make them have to go see the nurse."

"I will kill anyone who hurts you," he said, and his eyes flashed scarily.

"Then you are a really bad person, Senya," I declared. "Only really, really bad people kill other people."

He didn't respond, just looked at me with his weird eyes.

"Please don't hurt anybody anymore, even if they are mean to me. Will you promise me that?"

He shook his head.

"Then you had better go home now," I said.

"Alright." He looked very sad. His shoulders slumped, and he frowned.

I frowned too. "And I don't mean home to my house. I mean home to your own house on your own planet."

"I know," he mumbled.

"You can come again sometime if you promise not to hurt or kill anybody."

He smiled a little. "I'll try," he said.

I wanted to hug him, but that would look really weird if anybody happened to glance over this way just now, so I didn't. Instead, I held up my hand in a wave. He placed his palm against it. For a moment we stood like that hand to hand and even though I knew he was not really there, I could feel a strange current running between us. It warmed my hand and my whole body on the inside. I closed my eyes because the silver light was getting very bright and I felt like the sun was shining right on me. It was a nice feeling. I liked Senya. I really liked him. I decided to marry him when I grew up as long as he promised not to hurt or kill anybody else. I opened my eyes to tell him this.

"Senya?"

He was gone.

About six months later, the doorbell rang.

"Katie Anne, will you get that?" my mother yelled. She was in the kitchen with her hands in a chicken she was cleaning for soup.

"Okay," I called back and putting down my math book, I went to look out the glass panel next to the door. There was a strange man standing there. He was looking around the front porch. He looked nervous to me. I opened the door even though I wasn't supposed to in case he planned to kidnap me.

"Hello?" I said.

He looked at me sizing me up and down and again I realized it was probably pretty stupid to have opened the door.

"Are you Katie Golden?" he asked. He had a thick accent from somewhere else.

"Yes. Who are you?"

"I'm Taner," he replied almost hesitantly. "I have something for you." He reached into the pocket of his overcoat and pulled out something. It was a chess piece, a black king. I took it from him and studied it while he reached into his other pocket and then handed me a white queen, as well.

"Wow," I gasped turning the pieces over in my hands. They were made of something heavy and had gold on them and were really pretty.

"Do you know who they are from?" he asked curiously as if he didn't know.

"I think so," I replied. "They're from my friend."

"Your friend?"

"Is he okay now?"

Taner's skin went pale. He scratched at his cheek. "Who are you Katie Golden?" he asked. "Are you a princess?"

I laughed. "A princess?"

"How old are you?"

"Ten."

"How do you know him?"

"What's going on here?" my mother said, coming up behind me, her hands in a dish towel. I showed her the chess pieces.

"These are from my friend," I explained.

"What do you want?" my mother demanded of the man.

"Nothing," he apologized. "I was only to deliver these." He bowed, sort of. "I beg your pardon. I'll be going now." He practically ran down the driveway to his speeder.

My mother took the chess pieces from me. "I want your father to see this," she said even though I started to whine that they were mine.

My father looked them over that evening and satisfied that they did not contain drugs and were not going to blow up, he let me put them on my bedroom shelf next to my Breyer horses, next to Midnight, my favorite black one.

One night, when I was thirteen years old, I was lying in bed wide awake and unable to sleep. Senya was a distant memory, and if it weren't for the chess pieces, I might not even have believed he was real. Frankly, the chess pieces weren't proof either and as time went on I became more convinced, like my mother, that he was a figment of trauma, stress and Vicodin.

I was staring out the window at the stars and spaceplanes that dotted the night sky above me. I wanted to go to space. Already I had decided that my future lie with the SpaceForce. I read everything I could about them. I prepped myself already by reading up on Astro-engineering and Astro-navigation in my spare time. My mother loudly hoped that I would change my mind and choose a normal career like an accountant or lawyer. I had my heart set on the stars, though, and would dream of wearing a SpaceForce uniform with strips cascading up my arm.

Other than that I was a typical teenager. My walls were plastered with pinups of rock stars, my nights were spent chatting with girlfriends about boyfriends, and occasionally studying, and my days were spent hanging next to my locker in school, showing off my latest fashion accessory.

On this particular night though, I was pondering my future in the stars when all of a sudden it was as if a door opened, a light lit up my room, and Senya stepped through.

"Senya, you're back!" I cried, wondering again if I was asleep and didn't realize it.

"I am," he said into my mind just as he had done before. His eyes shone bright as I stared at him.

"What are you doing here? You're not sick again are you?"

"No," he shook his head and crossed the room to my bed.

He was about sixteen and his hair was long and wavy and tied loosely into two braids with black ribbons. He was very tall now and had filled out considerably. His arms and legs were hard and muscular as if he played sports all the time and he now had a huge tattoo running down his left arm. His skin was pale but healthy looking. He was wearing what looked like leather leggings and tunic that had sparkly things sewn on as decorations.

"OMG!" I gasped aloud. "You grew up!" He was so hot! He was beyond hot! That bratty boy had turned into the most gorgeous guy I had ever seen. All the rock stars on my walls were nothing compared to Senya. "OMG! OMG! Wait! What are you doing?"

He took off his tunic and unlaced and slipped off his leggings and climbed into bed with me just as he had done before. I stared at his penis, which stood tall and throbbing.

"Uh...Senya?"

He slipped his hands under my nightgown and pulled it off over my head.

"You grew up too, Katie," he said running his hand across my face.

"Are you here or are you not really here again?" I whispered, my heart beating strangely as his fingers stroked my breasts.

"It's complicated," he replied, and he kissed me. It felt like he was here. "You belong to me, you understand?" He waved his hand and all the pinups fluttered off my walls and onto the floor.

"Ok," I said. "Sure."

And then he kissed me again with tongue and pressed himself against me. I thought I should be scared. I thought I should probably push him off and loudly say No, like I had been taught in school, but I didn't want to. I wanted him to do this, and I wanted to do it back. I reached for him and I stroked him marvelling at this amazing boy's body.

He moaned and then pushed himself into me, and I nearly cried. I felt as if we had done this a thousand times before. I felt as if all this time I was missing a part of me and never knew it and now this part was back, and I was finally complete. It didn't hurt. It didn't feel anything like Mary Beth said it would when we sat behind the bleachers and discussed these things after band practice last fall. Like the teenagers that we were, Senya and I coupled over and over that night and even in between lay stuck together like one body.

"I love you, Senya," I said about a million times that night. "I love you so much."

"I love you, Milaka MaKani," he said. "I love you in this lifetime and all the lifetimes before and after."

I didn't see him leave. When the morning came, I was alone. My nightgown and all the rock stars were on the floor. The chess pieces had been moved to my bedside table and placed on top of my tablet. My virginity was entirely intact.

I knew he wasn't a hallucination. I never could have imagined that. No book, no vid, nothing could have prepared me for the feelings that raced through my body during that night. Who Senya was and how he came to me twice now perplexed me, and there was no one who could help me figure this out. I googled Senya but nothing came up.

I was determined to find him though. It would take a few years. I would join SpaceForce and fly around the galaxy, but eventually, I would find him.

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# Chapter 18

# Mariya

WHEN I WAS SIXTEEN years old and still living in the dorms, I bought a new pin-up of the MaKennah. It had just come out and it was the best ever. He had been living in Karupatani for several years, and there had been no pics since he was twelve and now there was a new one of him at sixteen. I queued up at the store with my roommates, and we each bought one.

The pic was snapped in Karupatani. He was astride a big black horse that was rearing on his hind legs, and the horse's head was pulled back, and its teeth were bared. My cousin, the MaKennah, was wearing Karupta clothes, leather leggings and tunic adorned with silver and his hair was very long and curly and pure black. He held the horse's reins in one hand and a light sword in the other. His eyes were bright silver, and his expression was curious as if he didn't know who was snapping his pic but was on his way to find out.

"Oh, he is so dreamy," my roommates moaned. We had all four pin-ups on the walls of our room.

"He is," I agreed and secretly dreamed that my mother's wiles might work, and I would again be granted an audience with him. I would charm him with my wit and enchant him with my beauty, and I would take him in my bed, and I would become the MaKani and someday, Queen.

Around that same time, the Palace announced that the MaKennah would be returning to Mishnah to begin studies at the University of New Mishnah in the fall. This prompted another round of ecstatic moans from my roommates and me. UNM was within walking distance of our own campus. I bought myself new dresses in preparation for the Palace parties I would surely be invited to.

Then, before we knew it, Prince Akan was on the vid announcing that the MaKennah was dead, killed by the Karuptas. Prince Akan was pale and somber as he made this announcement and he promised that revenge had already taken place. The King's village in Karupatani had been massacred. Only women and children and the old king remained. We saw pics of burned out homes and dead men and horses in the streets. We saw women on their knees keening and pulling their hair before their dead husbands and sons. We saw the old king with tears running down his face clutching a young boy.

I wore one of my new dresses intended for a party, to the memorial service. Prince Akan sat on the dais and wiped at his eyes a few times, but King Yokaa was devastated. He sat hunched down in his throne and wept. He ended up leaving the service early, and it was announced shortly after that, Prince Akan would begin to assume some of his duties.

I finished school and rented a flat with a girlfriend in New Mishnah. I didn't have a job nor did I have any intention to get one as I was born in the privileged class and had sufficient income from my father to see to all my needs.

I paid little attention to politics or economics are any of those things that consumed the working people, yet after a few years, even I began to notice that Mishnah had begun to change. Many people were out of work. Even in New Mishnah, the shining city on the hill, office buildings and homes lay empty and unused. It took many more Mishnese dollars to purchase the things I needed. The rent on my flat went way up. My flatmate, who was not as wealthy as I, could no longer pay her half of the rent. Three other girls moved in and shared her bedroom and our one bath. Panhandlers and hobos lined the streets begging for coins in front of every building. There were food shortages and many restaurants closed.

When I was twenty-five and could no longer tolerate living with four other girls in a dying city, I moved back to the Child Moon until I could decide what to do with myself. My mother had intended for me to make a good marriage, but many of the elite and privileged had also lost their wealth when the stock market crashed, and the economy plunged. There was simply nobody out there worthy of marriage to me, save Prince Akan himself who was not inclined to appreciate a woman.

My father, Lord Governor of the Prison Colony stayed surprisingly wealthy. He was loyal to Prince Akan and rewarded handsomely for that. His colony grew across the tiny moon as more and more prisoners arrived and he was given a large percentage of the value of the ores that were mined.

Our home there was as opulent as the Palace of Mishnah despite living within an air bubble. It was adjacent to the prisons and quarries, but rarely did we see any prisoners beyond those that worked in our house. I kept busy doing needlework and playing piano and occasionally sketching or drawing, but for the most part my life was exceedingly boring.

About a year or so after I returned to the moon, my girlfriend Leesa came to stay for a while. Leesa's family had been well to do, owning one of the largest speeder manufacturers in the country. She was very pretty and great fun when we were in school together, and I loved her dearly. This last year, her father had lost his business when the government had taken it over. He embarrassed everyone after that by committing suicide. Leesa blamed Prince Akan and railed upon him constantly, and it grew quite tiresome. She had come to visit to cheer up, but I grew bored with her depression. I would rather do my needlework in silence than listen to her rant about the government.

"It wasn't like this when King Yokaa was still in charge," she said scornfully. "I wish the MaKennah was still alive. At least we would have some hope for the future."

"Well I wish he was still alive too," I agreed. "But my father has done well under Prince Akan. Just because your father didn't, doesn't mean..."

She interrupted me and went off on a rant about unemployment and taxes or some such thing.

"Oh, come on," I said, so as not listen to this. "Let's go take a walk around the estate."

"Where?" she demanded. "It's not like you have gardens or anything."

"We do," I insisted and I showed her the gardens and greenhouses where we grew all the food for ourselves and the colonies. They were maintained by prisoners who had earned relief from the quarries for good work. The gardens were immense, and parts of them even grew large trees, up to one hundred feet tall before they bumped into the roof. These trees generated much of our oxygen, and the forest there was quite dense as our oxygen requirements were enormous.

"Oh, it's gorgeous," Leesa cried, and her mood picked up considerably. "It's almost like being back on the planet."

"We even have a lake and a waterfall," I bragged, smelling the beautiful roses that my mother grew.

"Can we go see?"

"Of course." We walked through the path in the forest towards the lake.

"Is it warm enough to swim?" Leesa asked.

"Yes, but we didn't bring swimsuits with us."

"Oh Mariya," Leesa laughed, and I remembered how much fun she was back then. "We don't need swimsuits. Who will see us?"

"Prisoners."

"Well, if there are none by the lake, I'm going to go swimming," Leesa declared, and she began to run along the path.

The lake was beautiful. There was a waterfall that churned the water and poured it into the lake which streamed out into the reservoirs that the colony used. There was a meadow that surrounded it all, filled with wildflowers and grass and a prisoner was there pushing a mower about.

"Oh darn, a prisoner," Leesa said and then she moved closer to get a better look at him. "Mariya, is he a Karut?"

"Looks like it," I replied. "How odd is that? We don't usually have Karuts here. They take care of their own."

"Maybe he killed some Mishnese or something," she mused. "He's awfully good looking, isn't he? He has beautiful hair just like the MaKennah did."

"He does," I agreed. "But the MaKennah had wavy hair like Princess Lydia's. Besides, this one is much too old, and his skin is too dark."

"I don't care," Leesa said with her wicked smile. "I'm going in the water and if he notices me, well too bad."

"Leesa, you're terrible!" I cried as she tore off her clothes and executed a perfect dive into the pool.

The Karut turned at the splash and gazed at my friend in the pool. She was paddling around on her back exposing to him her beautiful breasts and womanhood.

He turned back to his mower.

"Come on, Mariya!" Leesa teased. "The water is wonderful."

I glanced at the Karut, but he paid us no mind, and so I too stripped and plunged into the pool. It was wonderful. The water was warm and clear and though the sky above us was false, it felt as if we were truly on the planet.

"What's that," Leesa said and pointed at the sky.

"I don't see anything." Of course my eyes were closed as I paddled backward.

"It's a bird! You've got birds here too!"

"No, we don't." I opened my eyes and followed her gaze. Sure enough, circling high near the ceiling, above the trees, was a bird.

"It's an eagle!"

"How could an eagle get in here?"

"Look, it's so beautiful." Leesa stood in the shallow water now. "It's black. It's a black eagle." The bird swooped down in our direction, and it screamed.

"Look how big it is!" Leesa gasped as it disappeared into the forest.

That night I asked my father if there were eagles in the forest.

He laughed at me and told me I was ridiculous.

"Even if we brought an eagle in, there is nothing there for him to eat. You must have been dreaming."

Leesa and I went again the next day, but we did not see the eagle. The Karut was there mowing the lawns, and he spied us but turned back to his mower again.

"Maybe it's over there," Leesa said, pointing to the orchard behind the waterfall.

We headed in that direction. The apple trees were in full fruit and there were several prisoners on ladders harvesting them. A foreman was sitting on a bench smoking a cigarette. He nodded to us.

"You want some apples, Milady?"

"Sure," Leesa said.

The foreman stood and gazed across the orchard. Several men were carrying large bushels and loading them on a conveyor.

"Karut!" the foreman called. "Bring some apples over here for the ladies."

A man stepped out of line and carried his bushel towards us.

"Oh my Saint," Leesa cried and grabbed my arm. Blessed Saint, I swayed on my feet.

"I told you some, not the whole fucking bushel, you bleeding idiot!" The foreman yelled and raised his whip. "I told you yesterday, one more screw up, and you're back to the quarry."

The man set the bushel down at my feet. He crossed his formidable arms in front of his chest and waited. He towered over all of us. The foreman looked at me as if I should decide if this was a screw up or not. I had lived many years on my father's colony and have given orders to many prisoners. I knew how to speak to them in a commanding voice and never had I shied from ordering them to do my bidding. My tongue was frozen in my mouth at this moment, and no words could come.

"Lady Mariya," the foreman repeated. "Do you wish for this whole bushel or just a few apples?"

The prisoner's eyes were very nearly closed but from beneath the thin slits was silver light. I saw it, and Leesa saw it.

"We changed our minds," Leesa said quickly. "We don't want any." She pulled me away.

"Women," the foreman spat. "You, Karut, get back to work."

Leesa and I ran back to the house. The other Karut on the mower stopped his mowing and watched us. He smiled.

We immediately ran to my rooms. In my bedroom still that pin-up of the MaKennah on the horse hung on the wall. We stared at it as if it would speak to us.

"I saw that," Leesa said and pointed at the branding on his left arm.

"Are you certain?"

"His sleeve was torn. I saw that, those black marks."

"I saw his eyes," I said. "I saw them when I was first introduced at age twelve, and I remember. They looked the same."

"He has a scar near his right eye," Leesa touched her eye, and we peered at the poster. "Must be new."

"Same hair," I said. "Definitely same hair."

"And pale skin," Leesa added. "How many Karuts have pale skin like that? One?"

"How did he get here? He's dead ten years?"

Leesa walked away.

"Mariya, your father is in Akan's pay."

"He's not!"

"He is! Mariya, your father is rich, and everyone else in the entire country is poor. Akan is paying your father to hide him!"

"He can't be." I collapsed in my chair. "That's treason."

Leesa sat down, as well.

"If it is him," she said carefully. "We've got to get him out of here."

"Why wouldn't Akan just kill him?" I asked. "Why hide him away?"

"Maybe he can't kill him," Leesa suggested. "Maybe he tried killing him, and it didn't work. Remember when we were twelve, and he was in the hospital for so long? That was because Akan tried to kill him then."

"How do you know that?" I demanded.

"My Poli-Sci professor said so."

We sat in silence and thought about this.

"Let's go back tomorrow at the same time," I decided. "Then we'll know for sure."

Neither of us slept a wink the entire night.

The next day we returned to the orchard. No one was there. The harvest was finished, and the prisoners had moved on to something else. There was no one mowing the meadow either. We walked around the shore of the lake.

"Look," Leesa said and pointed at the top of one of the tall fir trees. The eagle was sitting there watching us. We stared at him. Suddenly there was a noise behind us and a dark hand was wrapped around my mouth. I tried to scream. Leesa watched with wide eyes but did not move to help me.

"Tell your lord father the eagle flies in the forest and make him come see," the man said. He spoke the Noble Mishnese, but his accent was strange. "Will you do so?"

I nodded, and he released me.

"Let me help," Leesa said to him as if she knew and trusted him.

The man handed her a piece of paper with a number written on it.

"Tell him where we are. Tell him to send him to Rozari. Will you remember this?"

Leesa nodded emphatically.

"Is it really him?" I asked. "He is really alive?"

The Karut looked at me and held my gaze for a moment before he turned and walked away.

Leesa departed within hours. I had called a shuttle for her. She kissed and hugged me.

"We're doing the right thing," she whispered. "I know we are."

I nodded. Doing the right thing meant my father was treasonous.

I told my father again about the eagle in the forest.

"You must come see for yourself," I insisted. "He is huge and beautiful."

"Oh Mariya, Mariya, you are such a child sometimes," he said, and he hugged me tightly.

My father always loved me best. Because he had been so busy as of late and had spent precious little time with me, he agreed to a walk in the forest.

He admired my mother's roses and the waterfall as if he had never seen them before. The lake glistened beautifully and enchanted him.

"What a good idea," he said. "We should come out here more often. It is truly a beautiful place. I feel so relaxed!"

"Oh, Papa," I said as together we sat on the shore. "Look!" In the reflection on the surface of the pond, we saw the eagle circling above us. Together we lifted our eyes to the sky and watched this incredible bird as he glided on our generated wind currents.

"You're right," my father exclaimed. "There is an eagle here. However could he have gotten here?"

Suddenly, there was another reflection in the lake. It was the other Karut man, the one who had given Leesa the note.

My father turned abruptly.

"What are you doing here?" he demanded. "Go back to your crew."

The Karut pulled a knife.

"Your term is over, Lord Governor," he said.

My father had a laser, and he raised it before the Karut could strike him. My father shielded me with his body and yelled at the Karut. "Where is your foreman? Get back before I kill you."

"Run, lady," the Karut said to me. "Run away."

"Don't speak to my daughter, you savage," my father hissed and blasted the Karut who ducked away and was not hit. Overhead there was a screech and my father, and I turned our eyes to the sky. The eagle was bearing down on us, his talons long and fierce looking. I screamed in terror and fell to the ground as the creature tackled my father. The beast was enormous, and though my father gnashed about and for a moment his laser swung wildly, the bird overcame him.

My father was dead. His blood ran from the tears in his body and bubbled from his mouth. It ran into the lake and contaminated it. I retched at the sight of this and pulled at my hair, but there was nothing I could do that would bring my father back to life. Still the beast was atop him pulling at his organs with his great beak, ripping my father into shreds as I turned my eyes from this horrific sight.

"That's enough!" the Karut screamed and swatted at it, but the creature remained until the laser bursts hit him. The guards had come, but it was not our guards. It was the Royal Guard, the King's guard, and it was not the eagle who they pulled from my father's dead body. It was the MaKennah.

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# Chapter 19

# Katie

SENYA RETURNED TO ME a final time the following year when I was fourteen. He must have been seventeen then. Like the first time, he was very ill. He appeared in a flash of light and haze in my bedroom, stumbling to my bed like a zombie. At first I didn't recognize him, and I screamed, prompting Allen to yell "Shut up!" from the next room. Senya's beautiful long hair was gone, completely shaven away and his body was battered and bruised. He looked like a ghost again.

"What happened to you?" I cried, pulling him in bed beside me. He collapsed on his stomach, burying his face in my pillow. His back was a mess of welts and bruises, old and new scars. "Senya, what happened?"

He didn't answer, just pulled me down next to him and hugged me so fiercely so I could barely breathe.

"I want to die. I want to die." His voice was like a whisper in my head.

"No, no," I protested, holding him as his body shook and trembled as he cried.

He stayed with me more than a month that time, never moving from my bed and rarely speaking. Always he laid face down, clutching me throughout the night, his head on my chest. I stroked the fuzziness that remained of his hair and watched the night turn to day, listening to his labored breathing. His wounds eventually faded but still he stayed with me. We never made love like we had the last time. I did terrible in school.

Since I was up all night holding him, I slept at my desks during the day. My mother was ready to ship me off to a psychiatrist.

My brother Allen accused me of being on drugs. My father came and sat on the edge of my bed one night, obviously not seeing Senya or his feet which hung over the edge.

"What's wrong, Katie?" Dad asked. "Is it a boy?"

"Actually, yes," I admitted glancing over at Senya.

"Well, Sweetheart," my dad said, clearing his throat a few times. "You can't destroy your future over a boy who is here today and then gone tomorrow."

"I know," I agreed. "But he's going through some really tough times right now."

"That's what they all say," my father grumbled. "Don't let him pressure you, Katie."

"He's not pressuring me, and he really is going through some tough times."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," I admitted.

My father made a face. "Don't ruin your future," he said sternly and then got up and left.

"I need to go back," Senya said after that and pulled himself to his feet.

"No, you're not well yet," I protested.

He sat down heavily where my father had just been and reached for my hands.

"You need to do well in school. You need to get into your academy."

"I will," I insisted. "I'll do better. Lay down again. You can stay longer."

"You need to find me."

"I will. Just tell me where you are."

"I don't know."

"What do you mean? Are you in a hospital?"

"No," he shook his head. "I don't know where I am."

"You won't die if you go back, will you?" I put my arms around his neck. "I love you."

"Aw Kate," he wrapped his arms around me. "I won't die. Someday I will hold you for real. Someday I will make love to you all night long."

"Senya," I cried, and I lay my head against his chest. How could I hear his heart beating if he was not really here? "Who are you?"

He took my chin in his hand and raised my face to look at him. His eyes were open, and that strange silver light was shining through.

"You will find me, Milaka MaKani. I will wait for you."

"I will find you," I promised. "Don't die!"

"I love you, my Kate." He was gone. No door opening, no flash of light, he just dissipated into the air.

Four and one half years later, I entered the SpaceForce Academy, and three years after, that I was commissioned as an Ensign and assigned to the StarShip Discovery. I had never been on a date, held a boy's hand or kissed anyone. Don't think I wasn't asked, I just always said no. I couldn't be with anyone. I belonged to Senya.

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# Chapter 20

# Meri

IT WAS THE WORST TIME ever in my memory. My beloved Senya was dead, and the old king's heart was broken. He cared naught for us, his people, anymore and Prince Akan took advantage of the void that was left. Ruling by edict, Akan transformed Mishnah. Those we had elected, he replaced with those of his own choosing. Laws that had existed to protect and safeguard our people since the time of the Saint, Akan tossed out and declared his voice a law unto itself. Our government no longer stood for the people but stood instead for Akan and nothing could be done. The courts that had held blindly to justice and the written word of the Saint from a thousand years were compromised by judges who sought only Akan's favor and the rewards he would bestow up on them.

Akan taxed us for our very breaths claiming each of us emitted too much carbon into the atmosphere. He took control of every business and institution because they too polluted what had once been a clean and beautiful planet. There were no jobs in Mishnah anymore. There was no one willing or able to engage in commerce for if they did, they were regulated and taxed such that their efforts were effectively confiscated by the Crown.

Akan ruled us with an iron fist by raising an army of jackbooted thugs. This army was comprised of the homeless youth who might otherwise have worked in the trades that didn't exist anymore. He gave his army food, lodging and clothing though their conditions would have been deplorable by the standards before his reign. He issued them weapons and granted them permission to fire upon his own people. He sent them to Karupatani to pillage and rape the few who remained and to steal their crops for their own consumption.

The Duke of Segefor, Senya's father, holed up in his palace with only a small staff of loyalists to fight against Akan's army when Akan sought to reclaim the Duke's holdings for himself. When the Duke's guards were dead, it was said that he fled back to Karupatani only to discover his entire village decimated, his people and the King hiding in the hills.

It was as if the heavens saw the tragedy of that which Rehnor had become and wept with us. For ten years, every winter the snow fell as never before creating frozen mountains in the streets making it impossible to pass, impossible to leave even so that one might buy a morsel of food with our few remaining pennies. The summers cried upon us too, the rain falling endlessly from day until night and then again until the winter set in and returned to the snow. What had been a land of abundance became swampland unable to nurture a crop to feed our starving people and so famine and disease were added to our already troubled lives.

I owned my buildings outright and diligently put coin away for many years so that I could pay the taxes. My tenants were devastated, without employment or coin to pay the rent. Some left, too proud to live off my charity. Rather they chose to live or die among those that wandered the streets. The few that remained became my family. We shared food, what little could be found, and during the coldest of times, clustered together in a single room for heat. The men swept the snow and boarded the windows as they cracked and splintered. The women turned whatever cloth we gathered into something that could be worn again or stuffed into a shoe. For fresh water, we boiled rainwater and snow over a fire in the hearth, the firewood once a chair or a table beside a bed.

For entertainment we told stories to each other as books that did not glorify Prince Akan were forbidden to read, forbidden now to print. In a hushed voice I told the tale of Senya and soon my hallways became crowded with those who had come to hear of him, of his sparkling silver eyes and his magic. They wept when my tale was ended for truly it seemed that the Saint had sent him to us and finding us unworthy, had taken him away from us again.

Occasionally, a fancy speeder would go by slowly, and pennies were tossed to us in the street. My tenants and I counted what we collected and then I took them to the grocer, walking up and down between his barren shelves, desperate for something that could be made into a soup that might last us more than a day. If I was lucky, he might have secreted away a cup of milk powder for the only child left in my buildings, a small girl who at eight years looked no more than four. He had a bone or two and a carrot or beet that would fill a soup pot enough, and though I paid him what I held in my hand, I brought him home with me to share our supper.

One morning I woke up, and the sun shone in through my window, and I knew in my heart and soul that something had changed. It was August, and for the first time in ten years, summer heat began to warm my room.

"Blessed Saint," I cried, falling to my knees in prayer while I basked in the golden glow. It was then that I realized that this day was the first of August, and with a stroke of melancholy, I reflected that it was my Senya's birthday, twenty-seven years ago this day.

"Meri, I've got some dandelion roots on the stove," one of my tenants called as she knocked upon my door. "Come have a spot of tea with me. The sun is shining, and it looks to be a glorious day, thank the Saint."

I rose to my feet and dressed myself, joining my friend on the front stoop along with many others who came to feel this unexpected blessing of sunshine upon our faces. I was sipping my tea, my skirt pulled up to my knees so that my toes and ankles might enjoy the sun too when the grocer came running up to us. He was out of breath and held his hand to his chest.

"Meri," he called. "Meri, I just heard, he's alive. Thank the Saint he's alive!"

"Who?" my friend asked, but I knew. I spilt my tea all over the stoop as again for the second time in the morning I fell to my knees in prayer. Tears poured down my face as I thanked the Saint and the Karupta God for whoever controlled our heavens now I did not care. May they all be blessed and thanked.

"It's our Senya," the grocer wept, tears as thick as my own, rolling down his once round face. "Our Senya is alive. Akan captured him and held him upon the Child Moon in the quarries, but he's been found, and now they are sending him to Rozari to recover. He'll come back, Meri. He'll come back and everything will get better!"

"How did you hear this?"

"Who would say?"

"What about Prince Akan?"

The voices of the people erupted around me.

"The King. The King was on the balcony just now, and he announced that his own guard, Captain Loman has taken the lad to Rozari. Our Senya's in fine form despite it all and will come home soon. His Majesty promised. In the meantime, the King wants to resume his duties. Prince Akan won't be our next King. Senya will!"

A cheer rose up around me. In fact, the cheering continued down the street as the word spread from mouth to mouth, stoop to stoop until all across the city, all across the country and the planet, everyone knew that Akan's reign had ended, and our Senya's would soon begin.

Rehnor began to heal, but it was a slow transformation. Akan remained at his father's side and his people instilled in all branches of government could not easily be rousted. Akan's guards were a formidable force, and though the old king sat his throne once again, he had not the wit nor stamina to fight against the government Akan had created

"Patience," I told my friends. "We have lived through the worst. We must bide our time now until Senya is ready to return."

"And what if he doesn't return?" my friend asked.

"Or what if he is no better than Akan?" another said.

"He will and he is," I replied for I raised the boy as if he were my own and only I knew what was in his heart.

"The lad's got magic in his fingers," the grocer said.

"That he does," I agreed. "More than any of us can imagine."

"How do you know, Meri?" my tenant protested.

"I know. I've seen it." I remembered the night that I had seen him take a ball of fire in his hand and toss it heavenward to light up the sky. "He will return again," I swore. "And, he will save Rehnor."

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# A Preview of Book 2

# My Enemy's Son

HE STARTED WALKING across the planet, the red dust covering his bare feet, coating them with a thin layer of powder. The dust still held traces of radioactivity from the war; the nuclear missiles launched a millennium ago. It was hot and so dry his throat felt parched within mere moments. He wished he had some water and would have willed himself some had he known where some might be. He didn't know any place on this planet. He was completely and totally alone in this dark hot terrain, guided only by the distant scent of the ocean, the slope of the landscape under his feet and the occasional sound of a speeder or a bird passing above him. Never the less, he kept walking.

While he walked, he tested himself. He forced himself to think on the past though he had tried for nearly a decade to wipe it from his brain with drugs. Nothing was forgotten. Every moment from the orphan home to the guards who came and tore him from the Lord Governor's dead body was still there on the tip of his consciousness. Every emotion, every moment of rage still burned like an ember in his heart. He looked forward and knew that this would not always be. Someday he would be content. Someday he would even be happy, for a while.

He tested himself in other ways too. Throughout the desert of this godforsaken land, he tried his strength on boulders of rock and ruins of buildings that had once stood as testaments to a great people. He drew fire from nowhere and rain upon himself when he grew too hot and thirsty. When his feet grew sore and swollen, he summoned his wings and looked upon the land from the air, satisfying his hunger with the occasional snake or rodent.

When finally he reached the sea, he had walked and flown for more than seven days, and though he held no fondness for water, he immersed himself fully and washed away the red dust. Then he held the water in his hands and willed the sodium and ions to separate and fall freely back into the sea, leaving only the hydrogen and oxygen for him to drink. He drank and quenched his thirst and then turned back to the shore to rest from his journey.

It was while he lay upon the sand that he heard the Voice and quickly he prostrated himself upon his knees. The words of the Voice made everything clear, and now, he understood to where his journey had led. He thanked his Lord for the insight and rising to his feet, called forth his blade, long ago stashed away in a secret place. With his blade he cut the ulnar artery at his wrist and let his blood spill to the dust. Then he willed the skin to close, the wound to heal and took from the sea more fresh water. Already where his blood had lain there grew grass. When he added the water, the grass spread outward in long tendrils, its roots digging through the dead earth and churning it, nourishing it, bringing it and the DNA of long dead worms and creatures back to life. He sat back on his heels and listened to the sound of the grass growing. He inhaled the scent of chlorophyll. He ran his hand across the soft green spines and then he lay down upon them and saw forward to this place when a great forest rose on either side of him. He heard the distant music of a waterfall, the pond and the brook that would run through the forest and feed the ocean with new salmon. He felt the wind caress the tops of the majestic trees upon which he would sit and then he heard voices in a language he didn't yet know. His heart raced when he heard the laughter of the woman, a sound like the sweetest music. He smelled her and felt the softness of her skin beneath his calloused palm and on his tongue.

Just as quickly as the sensations came, they were gone leaving only the night air cooling rapidly around him. Now he understood the task before him. He knew why he was set here and what he must do. He must heal this land and her people and then he too would heal. He felt the rage, the knot of anger that had burned in his soul begin to unravel. A peace and contentment washed over him. He turned on his side and fell soundly, blissfully to sleep because in that brief glimpse of the future, he felt something he had never known before in this lifetime. He had felt loved.

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