Plague of Mybyncia (36 page)

“His libin is low. Very weak,” she says.

“Just keep going. It is not gone,” Hillay
applies something to Qippert’s chest. “I need more!”

The emerald-haired Sonnora hands her another
vial of a deep purple liquid. “This is the last of what I have
brought. I can fetch more if—”

Tucker bursts into the room with Sampson’s
small jar of Vilbrees and an attendant carrying a jug.

“Your Majesty,” the attendant quickly bows
before rushing over to Hillay. “Water.”

“Tamora,” she motions to the jug and the
red-haired mayan turns to the attendant, whipping the cool liquid
from the basin as if by magic. It swims free from the jug, sailing
over Qippert’s motionless form before turning a bright icy blue.
All three Healers close their eyes as a soft, musical hymn fills
the room.

“I have the Vilbrees,” Tucker whispers to
Sampson who indicates silence with a single finger over his
mouth.

The Healer’s hymn continues for another
minute and when it’s done, they open their eyes, scanning Qippert
again. Hillay turns to Sampson, Chancellor Keller and Queen Ravan.
“He is very close to leaving this world, but his libin is not yet
gone. He will need ample time to recover from his wound.”

“I have very little remaining Vilbrees,”
Sampson motions to the small jar in Tucker’s hands, “if that will
assist in his recuperation any.”

“What is it?” her eyes drop to the jar.

“A concoction of my own creation, made from
the Tregmint on Harrizel. We were returning to gather the plant in
hopes that it may eradicate the remaining toxin.”

Hillay looks back to Sampson, “He has been
given Jannib for now and blessed with the ancient water spirit. If
he is to survive, he has been given everything he needs. You may
apply your creation if you would like, but it rests in Her hands
now.”

Sampson bows, Clarence and the chancellor
following. “Thank you.”

“Let him rest. We will be back shortly but
please, let us know if his condition changes.”

“Thank you again,” Clarence gulps as the
three Healers make their way from the room. Once they’re gone,
Pratt, Mae, Ariana and the Rogues pile in, all gathering around the
bed. They peer down at Qippert in silence.

A long moment passes before Princess Ariana
inhales, facing Sampson and Clarence. “I am so… so very sorry…”

“It’s not your fault, Princess,” Clarence
shakes his head.

“It is…” she nods with the slightest glance
to her mother, “you keep risking your lives and… every time someone
comes back injured.”

“But
alive
. We haven’t lost a person
yet. I plan on keeping to that and I’m sure the Fychu agrees.”

“But you have done so much for us already…”
she steps forward, tears about to pool in her sparkling orange
eyes. “We cannot ask, let alone
expect
you to travel to
Nerwolix. You have battled the Gorgen, the Vermix…”

“And now the Zingfinolds,” I grin. “But third
time’s a charm, right?”

“What if—”

“Hey,” Clarence shakes his head, “no what
ifs. We’re going to Nerwolix. Qippert might have to miss out on the
fun, but I’m sure he won’t mind.”

“Do you really expect you will be able to
travel there by tomorrow’s eve?” Queen Ravan asks. “Your injuries
are still fresh. Surely you will need a day or two for
recovery?”

“Actually,” Sampson exhales, “I’d like to go
tonight.”

“What?” the queen vocalizes what everyone
else is thinking, her eyes aflame with shock. “You cannot be
serious.”

“Completely,” he nods.

“But—but Fallon is not fully healed and you
yourselves still need…”

“I would like to go tonight,” he repeats with
another deep breath. “We’re doing nothing other than wasting time.
The sooner we can obtain the antidotal bud, the sooner we can get
Mybyncia fully recovered. And the sooner we’ll be able to rejoin
Blovid.” He inhales. “Reuzkimpart is not letting up in the
slightest. He wants all Arizals eradicated and without help, Blovid
doesn’t stand a chance. My apologies, your Majesty, but we need to
be making our departure soon.”

She nods, tight-lipped. “I see.”

“Your hospitality has been more than
generous,” Clarence adds, “and we do hope to return in the near
future, but the Fychu is right. Our best—and most dangerous—option
must happen
now
. There’s no more stalling. We need to go
after the antidote itself.”

“Is there anything we can do?” the chancellor
asks.

Sampson starts to shake his head but stops,
quickly nodding. “Yes. Keep an eye out for Perio and the Muskos. I
have a feeling that with our departure they may resurface
again.”

“Why?” Ariana’s soft voice asks. “They have
stayed away so far…”

“And I believe they’re waiting for your most
vulnerable moment. They’re aware the chancellor has been infected
along with several of the head guards. I’m not sure what their plan
is, but they’ve made themselves scarce since we went back to
question them. They might be waiting for us to leave… it’s just a
feeling I have.”

Chancellor Keller nods. “We will tighten
security. Please, Fychu, is there anything else we can do to
assist?”

“No,” Sampson shakes his head, “I don’t think
so. It will simply come down to negotiations with the
Zingfinolds.”

“New strategy?” I ask.

“I’ve given it some thought…” he nods, “our
best hand lies with the sympathetic vote. These,” he indicates to
his scratches and injuries, “won’t be gone by the time we arrive.
Nor will your leg be completely healed. If we attempt another
thievery, we’ll be dead in seconds, especially not being at our
healthiest states. If we approach them as is, they may view as us a
less threatening opponent and, with our physical similarities, take
a moment to hear us out.”

“But you said they didn’t like strangers,”
Tucker says. “That they’d kill us as soon as they saw us.”

“And you’re sure we can’t barter?” I ask.
“There’s nothing we can trade for the Nazual?”

Clarence shakes his head, “Unfortunately not.
There’s nothing we own that they’d want in lieu of something
growing on their land,” he exhales. “We’ll have to sell our words
and our situation and pray we’ve found them on a generous day.”

“Seems like a crap shoot to me,” Werzo
mutters.

“It’s all we’ve got,” Sampson sighs, glancing
to Tucker. “But with three females,
especially
a younger
one, I doubt they’d kill us instantly.

“So
you’re
our insurance policy,” I
grin at Pratt.

“Cool!”

“When are we leaving?” Reid asks.

“Late evening… not more than a couple hours
from now. We’ll depart from the surface, but please leave your
suits there.”

“Why?” I ask. “Won’t it prove our story more
if we arrive in them?”

“Yes, but the material doesn’t travel well.
Besides, those suits are like armor. It’d be like approaching in
full battle gear when we’ve come on a peaceful mission to request
aid.”

“They can’t fault us for protecting
ourselves.”

“But if they
see
it, they might forgo
a chance for us to explain. Kill first, ask questions later.”

“But we could just be giving ourselves over
to them,” Tucker crosses his arms, “like lambs to the
slaughter.”

“Again, it is the chance we must take.”

The entire room sits in stark silence, the
reality of the perilous situation settling in. We barely escaped
from the Gorgen and Qippert is still pale in the bed from the last
endeavor to obtain treatment for the toxin. Will we finally get
lucky?

“And Qippert?” Pratt asks again. “He’ll be
alright here?”

“We shall take very good care of him,”
Chancellor Keller assures. “Our Healers are the finest in the
kingdom. He has the best chance in their hands.”

“Alright,” Sampson addresses the entire room
in his usual authoritative tone. “Please take the next couple hours
to relax and prepare. I’ll retrieve you when it’s time.”

Everyone starts moving, Clarence and Sampson
leaving first. Ariana follows behind her mother and the chancellor
while Tucker speaks with Booker, Jace and Werzo in quick whispers.
Pratt and Mae fall into their own quiet words as Reid turns to me
with a solemn expression.

“You can barely walk,” a lump rolls down his
throat. “Are you sure you want to go?”

“If you’re going, I’m going.”

“Maybe you should stay.”

“I’m
going
.”

“Boss,” Jace places a hand on his shoulder,
“we’re headed to the surface and go through some Rogue combative
drills. You in?”

Reid glances to me and then to Pratt who’s
suddenly at his side.

“Mae and I are going to stay here with
Qippert,” she motions to him, “we can do some more laps around the
room to get Fallon ready and when the Healers come back, they can
check on her.”

“That sounds great,” I say.

Still hesitant, Reid finally nods to Jace,
“Okay, I’m in.” He sets me down, looping my arm over Pratt’s
shoulder. Mae rushes up and grabs my other arm, throwing it around
her neck. Once Reid is convinced that I’m supported, he turns to
the Rogues, “We’ll start with the advanced drills and then move on
to group sparring.”

“Aww…” Werzo gripes. “Sparring already?”

“You want to survive? Best you brush up on
your basics.”

Werzo huffs, leading the others from the
room.

“I’ll see you later,” Reid plants a soft kiss
on my cheek before following the other Rogues out of the room and
leaving the three of us—and a sleeping Qippert—alone.

For the next couple of hours, Pratt and Mae
do as promised—help get my leg working. We do a few more assisted
laps and after a bit of rest, I try moving on my own. I’m able to
get around with very little pain, but occasionally I need a moment
against the wall. But with each lap, the need for a break lessens,
and I’m able to get by a little quicker.

The Healers said I was exceeding their
expectations when they came to check on Qippert a little while ago,
but they still ordered some rest. Even with my improvement, they’re
not fully convinced I should accompany the others on the trip to
Nerwolix. But there’s no way I’m getting left behind on this
one.

Not a chance.

Following their suggestion for a little
relaxation, I’ve been on the bed next to Qippert for only a few
minutes. My eyes have just started to close when a knock sounds on
the door. I sit up immediately, alert.

Sampson is in the room. “It’s time.”

Once we’re all suited up, he gestures us out
and we head for the Docking Station where Clarence, the Rogues, the
chancellor, the queen and all three princesses are waiting. Gala
rests in the middle of the pool, the Stancimis taking up the
majority of space.

“Alright,” Clarence motions to her, “everyone
on board.”

Jace and Booker climb on first, pulling Pratt
up next. Once she’s secured on Gala’s left side, they help Mae and
then offer their hands to me. But Reid scrambles atop on his own,
helping pull me up before Werzo and Tucker ascend onto the
Stancimis’ back unassisted. Clarence goes up next, and finally,
Sampson climbs on board.

“Please, Fychu,” Chancellor Keller calls, his
voice somewhat shaky. “Be careful. You made me a promise that you
would return with your entire party before. I expect the same
now.”

“Chancellor,” Sampson nods as he secures
himself at the top of Gala’s back. “I wouldn’t be doing my job as a
Fychu if I didn’t, would I?”

“Express to them our
fears
,” Princess
Ariana frowns before the chancellor can respond, “and our
gratitude! And of course, they would have an open invitation to
Mybyncia anytime!”

“Don’t worry, Princess,” Clarence grins,
hooking his feet and hands into Gala’s cratered back. “All will be
well.”

“We’ll see you upon our return,” Sampson
offers a wave.

I can’t see if they return it because Gala’s
already submerging deep into the ocean’s murky waters. I’m so used
to Lalu’s speed, it almost seems like we’re going in slow motion
with the giant gray Stancimis. It’ll take at least ten minutes or
so to reach the surface when Lalu would’ve gotten us there in two,
but I use the time to relax and think. Prepare. We’re heading to a
completely new place with a culture unlikely to offer us anything
but hostility. And we need to get something from them. If we don’t,
if we fail, then the chancellor, Ariana and half the Mybyncians in
Pryncbia will die.

Just as I push these thoughts from mind, we
reach the surface in time for the sky to change from a deep crimson
to a lovely purple. Climbing off Gala, we all make our way across
the beach to the gray limestone walls. By the time I look back, the
Stancimis is gone and it’s only us again, the same eight humans and
two Dofinikes who arrived here six days ago.

“Alright, quickly now,” Sampson gestures to
our suits as he starts undoing his own.

“Are we bringing any defenses at all?” Tucker
removes his headgear.

Sampson shakes his head. “Just me.”

“That’s comforting…” Werzo mumbles.

“Without Sampson we’d be dead,” Reid glances
to Clarence. “No offense, Clarence.”

“None taken, young Rogue. I can hold my own
in battle, but I’m not pretending to have anywhere near the same
capabilities as a Fychu.”

“What happens if we get separated?” I
struggle out of my suit.

“Don’t,” Clarence advises.

Reid sweeps by my side, helping peel the
black suit from my legs as I lean on him. After tossing it into the
pile with the others, he leans in, keeping his voice low. “Stay
close to me. At
all
times.”

I nod.

“Promise?”

“I promise.”

“Alright,” Sampson motions us all towards
him, “everyone ready? Remember, we’re a unit. Do
not
stray—stick together and allow Clarence and me to do most of the
talking. They’ll probably know we’re there as soon as we land, so
try not to make any sudden or violent movements. We don’t want to
give away that the majority of us are capable of rudimentary
combative skills. That will come later, if need be, for an escape.
Girls,” he turns to Pratt, Mae and I, “keep to the front and center
of the group. If they come at you, drop to your knees in surrender.
Do
not
attempt fighting them.”