Rogue Powers (6 page)

“Yes, my Lord.” Hesitating only a second, Perno continued. “In fact, he was one of the boys receiving Your Majesty’s congratulations today.”

Letting his eyes drift closed, the King gave a great sigh. “You’re saying this devil, this criminal, entered my castle undetected, was in my very presence, and then left without arrest? I find that hard to believe.”

“Nevertheless, my liege, it is true.”

The king grunted, briefly staring out the window. “And we knew nothing of this boy’s existence before today?”

Once more Perno paused before answering. “Very little, my Lord.”

Of course, the Network always sent agents among the annual class of new military recruits, hoping to uncover those with power. Usually, this effort provided little or no result.

This year, however, there had been vague reports of a very potent Unknown Talent within the camp, one so skilled at subterfuge it had been impossible to zero in precisely on who it was.

Under Perno’s direction, the Network had efficiently interrogated a few recruits who spoke openly of such things (such as the unfortunate Jaron), yet were no closer to identifying the culprit. Perno himself, utilizing his own special ability, had spent time ambling in and among the recruits, but like his agents could detect only the vaguest hint of power on the very edge of mental perception. It could be anyone within a general radius.

Briefly, Perno recounted the day’s events for the King, including the discovery of the Unknown within the recruit ranks, Prince Tenen’s attack on his operative, and then the agent’s subsequent failure to take down the Talent leaving the castle.

“And why did Prince Tenen attack your agent?” the King asked.

“Apparently it was some ill-conceived jest, my Lord, designed to amuse the recruits.”

“And you have no idea who this Unknown is?” A glass of water drifted across the room of its own accord, settling into the King’s hand. “Only that he’s one of those twenty boys in here today?”

“That is correct, my liege.”

“Indeed.” The King now took a sip, then settled back down in his cushioned chair. “So now what?”

“I need the names of those twenty recruits, my Lord,” Perno briskly replied. “We must arrest and interrogate them all immediately.”

Grunting, the King put up his stockinged feet, considering the recommendation. “No,” he finally commanded. “Not now.”

“My Lord, it is the only way...”

“I said not now! There is too much else at stake.” Suddenly animated, he leapt to his feet, angrily pacing the room. “The Kardens have already struck once, and may do so again at any moment! I must dispatch our army, including those new recruits, to the western frontier immediately. I can’t afford a witch-hunt among our best young warriors!”

Waiting a few moments, Perno slowly nodded. “I see.”

“Not to mention my detractors right here in the castle,” the King bitterly continued. “To turn you loose on the army would be just the opening they need to convince everyone I’m losing control!”

And this, thought Perno, is the King’s weakness. Rather than immediate action, he often surrendered the initiative to his opponents. “What are your wishes concerning this Unknown?” he asked.

“Rather bold of him to walk right into my own castle, now isn’t it?” Stroking his chin, the King considered. “And this boy is too old to become part of your own organization?”

Perno had considered it. But eighteen was way too late to begin effective indoctrination. If they’d discovered him a decade before...but not now. “I’m afraid so, my liege.”

“That’s too bad. Clearly, he’s more skilled than your own people.” Giving his spymaster a hard stare, the King nodded decisively. “Which means, of course, this Unknown is a threat. Have an agent accompany the recruits on campaign. There will be plenty of opportunity to identify and dispatch this young man in a war zone, now won’t there?”

“As you wish, my liege.” The head Demon began to leave.

“And Perno?”

Pausing, he turned back. “Yes, my Lord?”

“Why don’t you leave here unannounced. Many people saw you enter. It helps if we keep them guessing.”

Perno hesitated only a split second. The King, of course, was the only person in the entire Kingdom who dared openly mention his special talent. “Of course, my liege.”

A moment later Perno drifted into invisibility, his personal aura separating and speeding the molecules of both body and clothes, allowing light and other matter to pass through. Striding directly through the outer wall, the Demon passed by the two sentries once more, though they were utterly unaware of his presence.

***

That evening, after a quiet dinner with her mother, Lydia spent time sketching in her room. She was very skilled, her ability to animate colors and hues creating a unique form of living, breathing art.

Three cats curled up on her bed, shelf, and lap, contentedly purring. The oldest of her pride, a black and white named Heathrow, remarked that he especially liked the gold sparkles coming from the young man’s head. Thanking him, Lydia continued with her work.

After a time her mother came in, quietly watching from the back of the room. Finally walking up to her only child, Princess Aprina leaned down to inspect the work in detail.

“Lydia, dear, this is beautiful.” Carefully picking up the sketch, Aprina studied the image of a young, strong man in military uniform, staring out at the horizon. Behind the man was a girl, watching from behind a tree. Clearly the girl was fascinated by the soldier, though he didn’t know she was there. Within the picture itself the trees and grass glowed a verdant green, the sky a vibrant blue.

“Thank you.” Absently taking the picture back, Lydia studied it another moment, touching up some detail on the boy’s sleeve.

“Why are there gold stars coming out of his head?” Sitting down on the bed, Aprina stroked the young tabby cat.

Lydia shrugged. “Heathrow likes it.”

“Heathrow’s a cat, dear.”

“So?” Turning to look at her mother, Lydia smiled. “He has opinions too, you know.”

At one time Lydia’s amazing ability to communicate with animals was a cause of concern. Might she someday decide animals were better company than people, retreating into a sheltered, inner world? But so far Aprina’s fears had been groundless. In fact, Lydia was very popular and well adjusted, clearly understanding the difference between beast and human society.

Still, there were times when Aprina wished her daughter possessed a singular, mundane talent, like that of her friend Belle. Very few royals had two abilities, marking her as both very sensitive and unusually powerful. Such things didn’t go unnoticed in royal society.

Glancing once more at the drawing, Aprina again wondered at the significance of the gold flakes around the boy’s head, creating almost an aura. Instantly, she thought of the King’s minions prowling the castle, living among them in supposed secrecy.

“Lydia...” Voice trailing off, Aprina leaned over to stroke her daughter’s cheek. “Do you ever sense anything unusual in the staff around the castle here? Perhaps soldiers or cooks?”

“You mean power? Like we have?”

“That’s right, dear.” Surprised at such a direct response, Aprina nodded. “People trying to hide what they are.”

“Of course.” Lydia looked down into her lap. “They don’t want anybody to know, but I can always sense them.”

“I see.” Taking a deep breath, Aprina sat back. “Honey, those people aren’t our friends.”

“I know.”

“Oh. Good.” Trying her best to smile, Aprina nodded at the sketch again. “Have any of them followed you, or questioned you? Maybe that boy in the soldier’s uniform you’ve drawn there?”

“No.” Lydia now looked at her mother directly. “Don’t worry, Mom. I can spot them all a mile away. I won’t talk to them.”

“Oh.” This was no false modesty, Aprina saw. Spotting Demons was child’s play to her daughter. “And the boy there, is he one of the King’s spies?”

“No, Mom. Not at all.” Now Lydia smiled, hugging Heathrow to her chest. “He’s just a drawing. Nobody in particular.”

“Oh, that’s good.” Aprina still felt there was more to the sketch than Lydia cared to admit, but there seemed little point in pressing.

Apologizing to Heathrow, Lydia put the cat carefully on the floor, turning fully to face her mother. “Mom, do I have to marry a royal cousin?”

Surprised by such a question from her normally level-headed daughter, Aprina answered carefully. “Well dear, when the time is right, and you find someone you like. Why are you asking me this now?”

“Well, I was wondering if I could marry anybody I choose? Maybe even someone from the villages?”

“You mean a commoner?”

“Maybe.” Solemnly, Lydia nodded. “Something like that.”

“Well, Lydia, if you didn’t marry one of your royal cousins, there would be far less chance of your children ever having any power. They’d be dull, like the commoners. You wouldn’t want that, would you?”

The girl shrugged. “I guess not.”

“Oh, my dear, when the time is right, you’re going to have a wonderful marriage! And lots of powerful children.” Smiling once more, Aprina stood. “But not for a few years, at least.”

“All right, Mother.” Lydia stared down at her own drawing. “Good night.”

“Good night, dear.” Giving Lydia a kiss on the head, Aprina left.

Lydia intently studied her own drawing a while longer, the gold aura surrounding Anson’s head pulsing strongly.

CHAPTER FOUR

T
HE SUMMER ANSON TURNED fourteen years old, he finally asked the question his mother had been dreading. Arriving home from school one day, the strong, blond boy dropped heavily into a chair by the kitchen table.

“Hey there, kiddo.” Shucking corn for supper, she turned to her son with a smile. “How was your day?”

“Fine.” Staring down at the table, he moodily traced a finger along an old groove.

A moment went by. “Anything the matter?” she asked, picking up another corn.

Sighing, Anson didn’t look up. “Werner and I got into a fight today.”

“What?” Turning about in alarm, she advanced a few steps. “But Anson, you didn’t...”

“Don’t worry, Mom. I didn’t do...that. Nobody saw anything.”

“Good. That’s very good.” Sinking down opposite her child, she tried to relax. “But you know, it’s just those kind of things, a fight or something, that can lead to trouble.”

“I know, Mom.” A moment of stress leading to a revelation of power. He’d been lectured for years on the subject. “Nothing happened.”

“Good.” Still, her heart was beating very quickly. “Were you hurt?”

“No, it was no big deal.”

“Well, I thought you and Werner were friends. What started it?”

“We all went out to the cemetery. The whole class. To clean up and all.” Anson shrugged. “Werner and I found Dad’s grave, and then he asked me why the dates didn’t match up.”

“What do you mean, dear?” Once more, her heart began racing.

“Well, it says on the headstone Dad died over a year before I was born,” the sullen boy continued. “So Werner starts making fun of me, saying my Dad wasn’t really my Dad. So I punched him.”

“Oh.” Gingerly, she reached out, taking his hand in hers. “Honey, I’m so sorry.”

“Is it true?” Smoldering anger now bursting forth, Anson pulled his hand away. “Is Dad not my real father?”

Glancing up, she looked at the faded picture of Hanley next to the door. Dying of disease the third winter of their marriage, she’d always told Anson her late husband had been his father. It had been a convenient lie, repeated often over the years, and if anyone in town had ever done the math and come to the obvious conclusion, she’d never heard about it.

Until now, that is.

“Anson...” Pausing, she gingerly touched the bruise now forming over his left eye. “It is true. Hanley, your Dad...well, I mean, he isn’t your father. I’ve been lying to you about that.”

“Why?” Holding very still, he glared at her from across the wooden table. “Then who is my father?”

“Oh, Anson.” Gathering herself, she slowly continued. “Your power, Anson. It comes from the royal family.”

“What?” Frowning, he irritably shook his head. “What do you mean?”

“Anson, your father...your biological father, that is, was a royal. A Lord.”

“A Lord?”

“That’s right.” Smiling encouragingly, she held her son’s eye. “Anson, haven’t you ever wondered where that came from? What you can do?”

A long silence ensued, the grim-faced boy now staring off into space.

It had been the spring after Hanley’s death. She’d gone on a rare sojourn into the capital city, to both clear her head and consider a new marriage proposal from another townsman. He was very nice, but she wasn’t sure. The royal prince had seen her, immediately taking an interest. And she’d been so lonely and afraid.

It had lasted only a week, the prince soon becoming bored and sending her back to Hylen. Shortly thereafter, she realized she was pregnant. Realizing the potential complications of marrying a commoner, yet possibly bearing an empowered child, she’d turned down the marriage proposal.

From that day on, Anson’s happiness and well being had been her sole passion in this world.

“So I guess you never really wanted me then,” he finally muttered.

“No, Anson, that’s not true!” Rushing around the table, she took the glum youth into her arms. “You must never believe that! I’ve always wanted you!”

“But I’m so much trouble,” he dourly continued. “And you get angry with me because we have to hide what I can do all the time.”

“No, I never get angry.” Taking a step back, she looked him straight in the eye. “I’ve always wanted you! You’re good, and special, just like the Lords! Just like all those people who live in the castle, taking on airs and parading around in fancy clothes! It’s just...just that no one can ever know about what you can do, except you and me.”

“So you do love me then?” Now the boy stared off into space. “Even if I’m not Dad’s and...and the way I’ve turned out?”

“Oh, Anson!” Now she almost crushed him, much like when he was a younger child. “More than you can ever know!”