Plague of Mybyncia Page 2

  “Arizal or Vermix?” Clarence asks behind me.

  “Vermix,” Qippert answers immediately. “There are no other Arizal Dofinikes currently on Mybyncia. Except for the three of us,” he frowns. “Where is Vix?”

  “We’re not sure,” Sampson moves past Pratt and I, heading to investigate the corpse. “She wasn’t accounted for after Beshib’s attack. I can’t hear her,” he bends down, scanning the chewed snout. “She could be anywhere.”

  “Surely she would seek you out if she could,” Qippert steps closer.

  “Yes, which leads me to believe she cannot,” he looks up with a sad sigh. “She’s being held somewhere. I have a few ideas where that might be and I mean to seek her out at the next available opportunity.”

  “Which will not be for a while—you must know this?” Qippert raises a brow.

  “I do,” Sampson shifts the Vermix skull to the side, examining the bite marks in a patch of skin still attached. “They can tell, can’t they?”

  “Tell?”

  “Vermix from Arizal,” Sampson looks up with a cautious frown. “I doubt her majesty would be too keen to find that all her aides have been eaten.”

  “The peace signal has gone up, but I cannot guarantee safety. Pryncbia is in panic. Fychu,” Qippert steps forward, lowering his voice, “please, let me escort you and the others inside.”

  “Are we any safer there?” Clarence asks.

  “You will be under Chancellor Keller’s personal guard, but we must get you down there immediately. I have Salva waiting with Gala in the Holding Station.”

  “So we’re just going to leave him here?” I gesture to the corpse and then to the immobilized Vermix, “And that one too?”

  Sampson stands, “For now. We can do a more thorough search once we better understand the state of things. But first, we must present ourselves to the queen and chancellor.”

  “Uh…” Qippert turns to us—the humans. “It is Queen Ravan and Chancellor Keller. They will not expect you to address them, so please leave all communications to the Fychu,” he nods at Sampson and cuffs his hands behind his back, resuming his stance. “Please, we must get inside immediately.”

  “Everyone keep close,” Clarence ushers us to the center, falling behind Pratt, “no one meander.”

  “Sorry,” she shrugs.

  “How far inland are we traveling?” I ask.

  “A fair bit,” Qippert says without turning around.

  “How come we didn’t land closer?”

  “Dofinikes only land where they can see,” Sampson tosses a glance back at me. “The Four Shores are known throughout Dellapalania, so it was easy to pick such a recognizable spot. And with the ongoing crisis, we couldn’t attempt a landing in the rocks. It would be far too dangerous and we’d have never found Qippert.”

  “How did you know it’d be safe on the shore?” Reid asks.

  “We didn’t.”

  “And do you think there are a lot of Vermix left?” I keep to Sampson who’s picked up speed with the others.

  “A few, perhaps,” Qippert calls from the front, “they are mostly hiding out—spies for Reuzkimpart. The majority left once discovering Blovid was not here.”

  “And what will Reuzkimpart do now?”

  “Focus on Dellapalania’s issue. Out of the seven Leaders, three known Arizals have been assassinated. The forth, Blovid, is on the run. The other two remain loyal to Reuzkimpart, so only Vermix sit on the council. But Arizals have come out and there are riots in the streets daily. They are gaining power and popularity, so Reuzkimpart will stay on Dellapalania and deal with this. He will not allow them their revolution if he is present. And there will be very little mercy,” Qippert stops suddenly, and, with his hands still clasped behind his back, he tosses us a sad glance. “For the first time in two hundred years, our home is officially at war with itself. Your father,” he lowers his head, peeking at Sampson, “he misses you, Fychu. He… speaks of you often… and fondly.”

  “And is he well?” Sampson keeps the line moving.

  “He is. He has been given extra guard, all his movements carefully monitored.”

  “Good.”

  “But… Reuzkimpart wants him to speak on behalf of the Vermix.”

  “And he’s agreed?”

  “He has managed to stay out of it so far. He is a highly recognized and respected Vermix, but has refused to speak on the uprisings. He will have to say something soon, though. He cannot evade Reuzkimpart forever.”

  “I don’t think it would matter much what my father would say,” Sampson follows Qippert to the end of a boulder and between two others. “He hasn’t been a Leader in some time.”

  “Reuzkimpart thinks your father is the very thing Dellapalania needs.”

  “Why?”

  Qippert pauses again, “Many of the Arizals were loyal supporters of Theon during his service. Reuzkimpart thinks—hopes—that if Theon speaks, he will be able to sway the Arizal revolution to a halt. He was counting on this grand, unbeatable army and now, with recent events, he has none. Reuzkimpart needs this war to be over. And that includes killing Blovid. As long as he lives, the uprisings will continue.”

  “He will never find Blovid,” Sampson leads us through the limestone walls, “especially now that Mybyncia is involved. Reuzkimpart must have been panicked to send in such a force. He doesn’t realize it yet, but he’s just gained massive support for the Arizals with this attack.”

  “He knows it. That is why he needs your father’s support more than ever. He must suppress the Arizal uprisings so Dellapalania can stand united and prepare,” Qippert inhales. “Reuzkimpart expects an attack from Mybyncia.”

  “But Nerwolix will remain out of this?”

  “Yes—Blovid has no immediate plans to involve them.”

  “I told you he fled to one of the moons,” Sampson glances at Clarence.

  “Best we not discuss that here,” Qippert motions around. “Nerwolix will remain neutral, as I expect they would want to. This war will go one of two ways. Either Reuzkimpart will win over the revolution and bring the Vermix to Mybyncia with a promise of war if they retaliate. Or, Blovid will rally the Arizals and bring the war to Dellapalania. Make no mistake, this will get ugly.”

  “Then best we get to the FH before anymore unnecessary bloodshed,” Sampson agrees as he follows Qippert through another patch of rock walls, “And once we get there? Am I to speak with the queen and chancellor at once?”

  “Yes—they are quite anxious with everything that has happened… they want a meeting as soon as you arrive from the Docking Station. The humans will attend with you. Afterwards, we will leave you to your quarters for some rest.”

  “When do we eat?” Werzo gripes.

  “Uh…” Qippert glances back at him, then to Sampson, “later, at the feast.”

  “Feast?” Jace perks up.

  “Yes, we shall attend the customary banquet… Come,” he dodges walls of shrubbery, passing more limestone boulders, “we are nearly there. Now,” he glances back at us, “when you meet the Mybyncians, do not be alarmed that—watch out!”

  I’m hit before I even see what happens. Thrown backwards, I slam into the Rogues as Clarence leaps overhead in his true form. He races to assist Sampson and Qippert who are battling three Vermix when another two drop in. Hands reach around my arms, yanking me up and I’m vaguely aware of someone touching my face, examining my stinging cheek. But they’re gone and I’m still trying to make sense of the scene ahead. With my skull ringing from the hit, it takes me a minute to recognize the angry firecracker bursts.

  Bullets.

  I drop to the ground, unsure where they’re coming from.

  “Two more!” someone shouts and the bursts ring again.

  With my back to the wall, I reach for my AK, scanning the scene.

  Pratt is across from me, curled up in a ball with her hands on her ears. The five Rogues have themselves lined between us, three facing one direction and Tucker and Reid on the oth
er, all firing up at the impending Vermix who drop like bombs into our narrowly walled prison. To the far left, Sampson, Qippert and Clarence have started scaling the limestone boulders, racing higher towards the retreating Vermix.

  Someone screams.

  My eyes dart to Pratt but she stares back at me, hands still clasped to her ears, just as confused as me.

  It’s Mae.

  She’s to the right and retreated so far that she’s been separated from us by a Vermix. Lunging for her, it drops seconds later in a heap, but she only stares at the dead Dofinike, wide-eyed and in shock. In a panic, she takes off in the opposite direction, flying through a net of the ivy-fauna and disappearing through a new set of limestone walls.

  “Mae!” I jump to my feet and race after her, hearing my own name called.

  But she’ll be dead if she disappears, so I have to stop her while I have the chance. For someone so short, she’s fast, dodging in and out of boulders in a panic and it’s taking all my speed to keep up. Selecting another route at random, she staggers to a stop, her body frozen and I nearly crash into her.

  Then I see it—the something up ahead feasting on a Dofinike corpse.

  Face down on the bicep, it feeds with urgent fervor, pleasurable grunts escaping as it rips into the greenish-brown flesh. Mae gasps and the creature slows its voracious chewing, raising its irate orange eyes to us. It looks like a woman, except for the sage skin and red, matted mane imbedded with bits of seaweed and sand that falls past her shoulders. Pulling away from the Vermix, she sweeps her tongue over her teeth, lapping up the remaining blood.

  “Get behind me,” I shuffle Mae to my back.

  The creature rises to a complete stand, bits of skin still hanging from her mouth. Her orange eyes pour over us and I know that at any second she’s going to launch herself and Mae and I will be dead. What do I do? I can tell Mae to run—give her a chance—but something tells me this thing will be able to kill both of us quite easily in a matter of seconds.

  Shit.

  Chapter Two: Mybyncia

  Settling into a lunging position, her orange eyes focus on me. Holding my breath, I squeeze Mae’s hand behind me, praying for a final miracle. But as the creature leaps forward and I know I’m about to be ripped to pieces, Booker and Jace barrel into the moving force, all three tumbling to the wall. I watch in horror as she tosses them aside with ease, jumping to her feet again with a voracious growl. Jace leaps on her back and they struggle before she throws him into a stampeding Booker, the two hitting the ground again. Her focus flies to us, but just as she takes off, a nearly-invisible net flies around her, tripping and trapping her to the ground.

  But I barely see it.

  With a hard slam, Mae and I are thrown to the ground, Reid’s body covering ours, sheltering us from the impending attack. He holds us here, focusing on the commotion to his left and once satisfied, he climbs off, extending his hand. I take it first and Reid pulls me to my feet before offering Mae the same assistance. Hesitantly, she allows him to pull her to a wobbling stand.

  “You two okay?”

  I’m still piecing together the last few minutes. I think I manage a nod but he’s gone before I see him leave, jetting over to Sampson and the others. My arm bristles in agony and as I look down, I find the bandage wrapped from the Vermix’s whip is blotched in red again. It hasn’t bled since the day of the invasion, when Reid and I were chased through the tunnels and a Vermix followed us in. His whip lashed out and cut a shallow crater down the length of my forearm. I must have landed on it when Reid knocked us to the ground because it’s opened again. Covering the damp material with my hand, I make for the hissing creature wrestling under Qippert’s net.

  “You will stand down,” he commands. “Queen Ravan and Chancellor Keller are expecting them.”

  The creature pauses immediately, replying in a long bouquet of sing-song-like sounds.

  “This is Fychu Smypse, Clynse and the humans of Harrizel. They are allies to Blovid and her majesty. They are to see no harm when here.”

  She replies with another series of soft sounds, glancing around to us.

  Qippert nods and removes the net, “Then do it quick. They are expected immediately.”

  She rises and with a final scan, scampers back up the limestone walls, disappearing behind a lush ceiling of shrubbery.

  “What was that?” Jace pants, hands on his hips.

  “A mayan,” Qippert explains, “a female Mybyncian. She is alerting the others of your arrival. The queen and chancellor will know soon. Come,” he turns to Sampson and Clarence, “we must go immediately. We are nearly to the entrance.”

  Qippert rushes past the next few boulders, Reid sandwiched between Sampson and Clarence who go back and forth about the Vermix attack. The Rogues follow behind them and then it’s Pratt and I, and a few feet back, a shaking Mae.

  “Fallon!” Pratt grasps me. “Your arm!”

  Reid whips around, followed quickly by the others, all eyeing the red stain before I’m able to hide it. They halt, Sampson making his way to me and lifting my arm to investigate. “Fallon… when did this open?”

  “Its fine,” I pull back. “Don’t even feel it.”

  “It shall be attended to before the feast,” Qippert says. “Please, we must get inside. It is right this way.”

  Guilt sweeps Reid’s face but he moves along quickly, following Sampson as we’re led through two more walls which narrow into a carved shelter ahead. Qippert enters first, then Clarence and the Rogues. Reid and Sampson wait, allowing Pratt, Mae and I into the dank darkness first, before following us in. Suddenly, the three Callixes traveling with us—including the one Reid gave to me, which I’ve kept around my wrist—glow like hidden flashlights, lighting our way with a soft, rosy hue.

  “Through here,” Qippert calls from the front, steering us into a densely shadowed passage, water dripping from the stone ceiling and down the dark walls. It hits the ground in wet rhythmic beats, creating a moist, echoing chime.

  Forced to travel in a single line now, Sampson tries keeping to my side, peering down at my arm. “We’ll apply some Vilbrees on it later.”

  “You have some?”

  “A little. I was hoping I wouldn’t have to use it so soon, but that arm will need something if it reopened so easily. Though…” and now he sighs to himself, “they’ll probably have the Healers take a look.”

  “Here we are,” Qippert calls, leading us into an enormous space with wet, bulbous stone walls and a giant pool of glistening blue. Besides the Callixes, the only light reflects off the shimmering water, illuminating the cave in a glowing cobalt tint. Qippert points to the center pool. “This is the entry down to the Holding Station. Salva and Gala are already waiting.”

  “What are we suppose to do? Jump?” Werzo snorts, “Uh—newsflash, we don’t breathe underwater.”

  Qippert exchanges looks with Sampson and Clarence before returning focus to the Rogue. “Yes, I am aware. It is merely a mode of transportation, designed specifically for non-Mybyncian use.”

  “So we’ll be able to breathe?” Pratt steps closer.

  “Just as well as me, and I need air just as much as you.”

  “Where exactly does this lead?” I ask.

  “The Holding Station—a very similar atmosphere,” he holds his hands up, gesturing to our wide, wet cavern, “except, much deeper. And from there, we will head to Pryncbia’s Docking Station in the Foreign Headquarters or, the FH.”

  “And once there?”

  “Salva and I will present you to the queen and chancellor who should be expecting you very soon. Quickly now, I shall go first, then the rest,” he nods at Sampson and Clarence before jumping in the pool. Swallowed by the glistening blue, he disappears and the surface stills again.

  “Is this really safe?” I ask Sampson.

  “Indeed. And he’s right, we need to make this quick so,” he motions me over, “ladies first?”

  Gulping, I step up to the pool’s edge just as Mae s
tarts shaking behind me. “No… I can’t, I can’t do it.”

  “Mae?” Clarence rushes over.

  “I can’t go down there,” her bulging eyes focus on the pool. “No, I can’t… I can’t… I can’t.”

  “You’ll be able to breathe just fine.”

  “I can’t. I’ll… I’ll—”

  “Fallon, go,” Sampson nods. “We’ll get her down there.”

  My heart races as I peer into the solid abyss below. There’s no light on the other end and with Mae carrying on, it’s harder to make the jump. Will I survive this?

  Please don’t let me die.

  Holding my breath, I take a step over the edge and submerge completely.

  At first I think I’m dead—or will be any second, the water about to pollute my lungs. Except it’s not water. Not really. It’s cool and fluid and coats my skin, but doesn’t flood my nose or mouth. Still refusing to inhale, I try saving all my oxygen and it’s only when I think I’m going to pass out that I allow a deep breath, air finally filling my lungs as they should. Relieved not to be drowning, I finally open my eyes and take a look around. It’s too dark to really see anything other than the enclosed tunnel is at an angle, pulling me down. I’m not falling—I’m sliding. My feet are nearly parallel with the rest of me and I can see them if I left my head. I can also see my rifle and the tips of my fingers down by my hips too. I’m not sure how long I’ve been going when my feet hit something hard and I’m upright again.

  I’m in the same sort of space—a low lit cavern with wet, dripping walls. Three torches line the room and under the farthest one, Qippert and one of the sage-skinned creatures converse in quiet words. Both look up at my arrival just as Pratt pops in behind me, quickly followed by each of the Rogues. Werzo is the last to arrive and doing a quick scan, I turn to Pratt.

  “Where’s Mae?”

  “Having a panic attack,” she frowns. “I think they’re going to have to subdue her.”

  “She’s freaking out is what she is,” Jace chuckles. “Big time.”

  Clarence appears next, landing on his feet. He shakes his head with a light laugh. “Well that was fun.”