Mana Mutation Menace (Journey to Chaos Book 3) (62 page)

“Alright, alright, if she walks through the teleport
wearing a dress, then I will give you ten gold Ataidar coins. Otherwise, you
have to give me ten.”

Kallen spat on her bare hand. “Deal.”

Eric spat on his own bare hand and they shook.

The Arch of Kresnik hummed to life and a screen of light
filled it. The elves in attendance tensed, and Eric’s monster instincts yelled “ambush.”
Then someone stepped through the light and set foot on the pedestal.

It was a tall man with cropped silver hair. He had a
delicately featured face that was twisted by an expression of disgust. He wore
a red suit with orange flame engraving and the royal seal in many places. His
own family crest (a crossed trident and sword over a blue sea background) was placed
over his heart, but it was small and nowhere else.

“Hello, elves. I am Lord Isuna Darwoss, First Baron of
Darwoss. Your Arch of Kresnik is so amazing it made me sick, but I won’t throw
up because I don’t want to offend you.”

Norej followed behind him and immediately said, “My father
hates Dengel more than he hates any of you. I want to make sure that’s clear.”

“Absolutely,” Isuna said. “The only thing worse than an
arrogant elf is an arrogant elf that betrays his family or his community.”

The room filled with scowls, frowns, and glares. Norej laughed
nervously.

“He’s trying, he really is. I’m sure once he gets to know
you, we’ll get along better.”

Next through the portal was a well-dressed man with
slicked blue hair. He wore a fine long-sleeved dress tunic with a coat of arms
stitched over the heart. There were emblems and medals for healers and warriors
attached to his tunic and a few more on his dress pants.

It was the coat of arms that grabbed Eric's attention: two
creatures, a griffin and another winged beast that looked vaguely lupine,
standing back to back on a battlefield. Each one held a white staff in their
left hand and black sword in their right hand. Facing the sword was a gaggle of
monsters and facing the staff was a huddle of injured sapients. This was the crest
of the Noble House of Heleti.
This man must be Nolien’s father.

The man grinned gregariously at the crowd awaiting them
and stepped forward.

“Good day, people of Dnnac Ledo! I am Lord Mebalos Yani,
First Duke of Heleti. I’m honored to be here.” He bowed and stepped off the
platform.

Next to step through was a woman with shining black hair.
It fell long and straight down her back while the bangs were clipped and
moderate forelocks touched her shoulders. Her bodice shared the same healer
crests as Mebalos, but slender dragons soared on her dress instead of griffins.
Her smile was more subdued but no less friendly.
Nolien’s mother…

“I am Lady Kurami Yani, First Duchess of Heleti. I thank
you for your invitation.” She curtsied and joined her husband.

Next through the portal was a teenage girl who Eric
presumed was Nolien’s younger sister. She had the same black hair as her mother
and the glossy strands were held in a bun by silver pins while two ringlets
framed her face. Her ankle-length gown was meticulously tailored. A square
neckline showed off her necklace and other assets, then led to long and wide
sleeves, ending with gold wrist cuffs. The heels on her feet looked more
expensive than some light armor. She was beautiful in a haughty way.

“I am Lady Hailey Yani, Second Duchess of Heleti. I’m
pleased to meet people as beautiful as I am.” She curtsied and joined her
parents.

Second to last was Tiza. Both Eric’s and Kallen’s faces
fell when they saw her outfit. She was indeed wearing a tailored and decorated
bodice and minor jewelry, but her skirt was knee length and beneath it was
dress pants like Norej’s.

“Tie?” he whispered.

“A short dress is still a dress; five gold.”

“Fine.”

Tiza glared in their direction and a sense of danger raced
through the minds of both.

“I’m Tiza Sprial, future grand fighter of the Dragon’s
Lair. I was a guest with the Heleti and I’m a teammate for Eric Watley.”

The only one left was Nolien, but he didn’t step through
the Arch’s light. No one did. Then the screen flicked off and the Arch shut
down. A siren blared.

“Warning! Warning! Ordercraft detected! Ordercraft
detected! Warning!”

All the elves present shapeshifted weapons and jumped into
formation. Ralm and Eric simultaneously moved their respective girlfriends
behind themselves for protection. Ponix ran to a terminal and demanded to know
what was happening.

“It’s Nolien Heleti, sir,” an aide in mission control
said, “The Arch detected ordercraft inside him and automatically shut down. He
is currently imprisoned inside the Arch’s chamber.”

Ponix spun to Mebalos and said, “I hope you can explain
this, because if you can’t, then planning your son’s funeral will be the least
of your worries.”

When the Heleti and Darwoss families arrived at Roalt
palace, Nolien volunteered to go last. Before they could ask why, he delivered
a perfectly lawful explanation that, at the same time, couldn't be further from
his true motive. After a sleepless night of pondering his way out of this
situation, he discovered a means to resist his
geis.

The Darwosses were the official vanguard and so they
should go first. His parents should go before their children based on their
greater rank, Tiza was a guest, and if he allowed his sister to go last, she
would exploit the attention given to the last, similar to one who is
fashionably late. Nobody objected, except his sister, and so it was agreed. One
by one, the other humans crossed the void, but when it was Nolien’s turn,
sirens flared.

“Warning! Warning! Ordercraft detected! Ordercraft
detected! Warning!”

The Arch of Kresnik’s teleportation screen shut down, and
the chamber itself transformed into a cage. Shutters dropped over the only exit
to the room and containment wards activated. The golden-brown glow of so many
at once blinded him.

The room was now closed off from the rest of the world:
light, sound, and air. Not even a spirit could slip out. Faced with such
imprisonment, Nolien sat down and waited. Only ten seconds passed before he
heard a voice in the darkness.

“Nolien Heleti?”

“Yes?”

“This is Ponix Enaz, the ambassador of Dnnac Ledo. Why did
the Arch of Kresnik detect ordercraft in you? Are you an ordercrafter?”

“No, I am not an ordercrafter, but I am in Order’s debt.
In a moment of weakness, he exploited my feelings and my mortality to force me
to exchange favors. He placed a
geis
on
me that compelled me to fulfill our contract and forbade me from weaseling out
of it.”

“Do you mean my people harm?”

“No. I mean no harm of any kind or any definition to Dnnac
Ledo or any other elf village or any elf individual or the elven people as a
whole.”

As soon as he finished that sentence, he felt Order’s
geis
leave him.

We are
even now.

The strength of the words knocked him out, and when he
regained consciousness, he was in a cell beneath Roalt castle. The fact that he
was not in chains was a minor comfort. Before him stood the castle’s mistress
and his own sovereign, and she wore a mask of cold rage. He hurried into a
respectable kneel.

“Arise, Nolien Heleti.”

With a mix of relief and confusion, he did. Once he was
fully standing, she kicked him in the groin as hard as she could. He clutched
himself and fell back into a kneeling position.

“You are so
frustrating!
I had everything worked
out...The mission was proceeding smoothly... then you set off the burning
alarm! You,
all of us
, are lucky that the ambassador is a man of
understanding and compassion. If the elven supremacists heard about this, they
might consider it a declaration of war!”

“My deepest apologies, Your Majesty.”

She smacked his head. “I don’t want your apologies! I am
trying to achieve something wonderful for my people that will make their lives
better and prove that I am worthy of my heritage.
You have made that
impossible!
”

She smacked his head again. Then she took a deep, calming
breath, and moved a hair that had fallen out of place behind her ear. Calmly
gripping her gloved hands at her waist, she said, “Do you have anything to say
for yourself?”

“What I did, I did out of love.”

“Oh? Tell me more.”

Kasile walked out of the dungeon with conflicted feelings.
What was waiting for her in her office made her want to go back and hit him
again. The
Darwoss
Herald
was on her desk, and the headlines for
the front-page article were as follows:

The Heir of Heleti is an Ordercraft Spy
.

The ambient temperature for the entire castle rose five
degrees and no one could approach the Royal Office without sweating for two
different yet related reasons. Siron calmed her down by bringing her favorite
tea and listening to her rant. She would have done so at Eric, but the Chaotic
Curtain around Dnnac Ledo scrambled her words and so they came out gibberish.

“Thank you for listening, Siron.”

He bowed and saluted. “It was a pleasure, Lady Kasile.”

She smiled despite herself. “You’re almost there.”

“If were in Najica, I could use honorifics of decreasing
formality, but as this is not the case, I must make do with what our language
provides.”

She dropped into her chair and sipped more of her tea.
Once the cup was safely returned to its pedestal, she asked, “What do you suggest?”

“When my father believed he had reached an impasse during
negotiations of any sort, he would ask, ‘What, hypothetically, would you need
for
x
to happen?’. If the person responded with anything short of ‘make
Order lie,’ then he would know that they were still willing to negotiate. At
that point, it was simply a matter of haggling, of scale, and fine details. The
frame for the agreement was still valid.”

“Then you recommend asking such a question of the Supreme
Council?”

“No, Lady Kasile. I recommend asking such a question of
the civilian population that doesn’t want us there, because unless they are
appeased, no human traveling there will be safe.”

Kasile picked up a red scry attached to her desk and
asked, “How bad is it?”

“If the Arch was working, I’d send your people back.”

Kasile face palmed. “Ancestor, give me strength.”

“It’s not all bad. Isuna Darwoss has sat down with Amelia
Memon, our own newspaper writer. They are currently having a civil conversation
about their shared profession.”

SMACK!

“What was that?” Kasile asked.

A woman in a maid outfit walked by Ponix’s office, red in
the face, and muttering darkly about how men were the same regardless of their
race. She was followed by a man in Ataidar finery, sporting a red handprint on
his cheek, and muttering darkly about how women were the same regardless of
their race.

“It’s either the end of their budding friendship or the
start of belligerent sexual tension.”

“What about the hatemongers, Meza’s faction?”

“They’re camped outside, wearing anti-ordercraft armor,
and some guardians have joined them. I succeeded in convincing them not to
storm the embassy but everyone is rattled. Worse, Nolien’s rationale has made
them paranoid; he’s a nice boy from a moderate family that was under compulsion
by Order. Now they’re afraid of sleeper agents.”

“If we went any other way, it would only confirm their
existing fears.”

“Order put us on Morton’s Fork.”

“Abyss…Ambassador Enaz, please ask Meza about options for
reconciliation. I wish to prove my country’s sincerity.”

Ponix hung up and Kasile anxiously waited for a return
call. She checked her schedule, looked through bills sent to her by the Common
and Noble Councils, checked polls measuring the approval rating of people in
her government, and otherwise passed the time as best she could. Siron stood at
attention beside her desk, as still and silent as a statue.

“Sit down,” she said casually.

“In the royal presence, I must—”

“I order you to sit down and enjoy yourself.”

“If you insist, Lady Kasile.”

He sat down and twiddled his thumbs. Kasile snorted and
went back to work. When her scry rang, she snared it like a viper. She took a
breath and said, “Yes, Ambassador Enaz?”

“Meza told me his conditions for dismissing his group and
forgiving this incident.”

“Yes? And?”

He told her and she dropped her scry. In a flash, Siron
picked it up and offered it to her. She smiled out of reflex and accepted it.

“Thank you for that information, Ambassador Enaz. I will
pass it on.”

She stood and forced wrinkles out of her skirts. Then she
picked them up and walked to the exit. Siron went ahead of her to open the door
for her, and when she passed through, he followed behind her. The queen
descended into the dungeon for the second time that day and stopped at Nolien’s
cell. He acknowledged her respectfully and waited for her to speak.

“I spoke with Ambassador Enaz and he told me what is
needed to mend the damage caused by your ‘moment of weakness.’”

“What is it, Your Majesty?”

“You must volunteer for mana mutation.”

A multitude of effects happened simultaneously within
Nolien. His heart rate increased, his stomach twisted, and his heart clenched. His
medical knowledge of mana mutation, all of its agonizing physical and mental
effects, raced to the fore of his mind. He cursed himself, cursed Order, cursed
Dosh, and for a second, he even cursed Tiza. Then he came down harder on
himself for crossing that line. All this occurred within the space of seconds
and none of it appeared on his face. On the outside, nothing happened. All he
did visibly was blink.

“Anything else, Your Majesty?”

Kasile nodded. “To prove your new monstrosity, they will
perform a series of tests. Your teammates will be sent into the chamber one at
a time so you may attack them. After a period of time to allow the new mindset
to settle, they will restore your sanity but not your body. You will have to
live with whatever new form Lady Chaos chooses to give you.”

 “I-I see, Your Majesty. I assume this is to be an ironic
punishment. For believing my teammates were more important than their village,
I will be turned against my teammates by their village. This is how I take
responsibility for my actions.”

“Yes.”

“I assume they also want to show off their technology to
prove that it is worth freeing many elven slaves in order to borrow it.” He
suddenly broke off into a string of mighty laughter. “It’s so elegant I’d be
impressed, if I weren’t the one subjected to it.”

“Second Duke Heleti.”

“Yes, Your Majesty?”

“I give you fair warning: the restoration will
not
be absolute. There will be changes in behavior, loss of memory, even a new
identity. While Director Enaz herself has guaranteed that your mind will become
sapient again, she cannot guarantee what kind of shape it will be in. The
mutation will be permanent. You, as you exist now, will be gone forever.”

Nolien took a deep breath and slowly exhaled. “I
understand, Your Majesty.”

“No, you don’t!” Kasile said angrily. “The dagger ears
want to
kill you
just so they can revive you like the mad scientists
they are!”

A quick blush came and went. Again, she paused to move a
strand of hair behind her ear and then she clasped her hands at her waist and
continued, “You appear to be under the impression that you have to do this, but
you do not. I am not passing judgment on you. You have not broken any of
Ataidar’s laws and so I see no need to punish you. I will schedule the Summit somewhere
else and we will proceed with human technology; the success story of your
teammate is promising and less politically complicated.”

Nolien addressed the floor of his prison. “With all due
respect, Your Majesty, I
do
have to do this. If I
don’t,
then I
will never be able to look my parents in the face again, nor myself, for that
matter. Tiza has already lost respect for me and so I can’t go back to her
anyway. Besides, like you said, my teammate is a success story, so I’ll be
fine.”

“Thank you, Second Duke Heleti. I need more people like
you in my nobility.”

As soon as the Arch of Kresnik unlocked, Nolien was
escorted to it. The ordercrafter team scanned him for any traces of Order’s
power before they allowed him inside. One step later, and he was inside Dnnac
Ledo. He expected hostile stares, but what he didn’t expect was pity.

There was his family, of course, and friends like Eric,
Kallen, and Emily, but a number of the elves also looked upon him in sympathy.
Tiza’s back was turned and she said nothing. Nolien had already accepted this
and walked to the exit.

“You’re an idiot, Tenderfoot.” She still didn’t face him.
“D-don’t expect me to mourn you.” She sniffed and her shaking shoulders became
apparent. “I got all dolled up because of you and…” She sniffed again. “And then
you pull this
shit
...” She sobbed and squeezed her arm.

Nolien looked to his escort, who nodded, and he walked
over to her.

“They’re going to fix me up afterward. I’ll be fine.”

Suddenly, she spun around and pounded on his chest. “You’d
better
be fine because I don’t want to break in a new healer.”

She still didn’t meet his eyes, so he grasped her chin and
gently lifted her face. Two trails of tears ran down her face.

He smiled. “Your make-up’s running.”

She glared. “It’s your fault.”

He wiped her tears away.

“Once I become a demon, I’ll no longer be squishy. Then
you won’t have to complain about having to protect me.”

Once again, on the verge of tears, she nodded, and Nolien
returned to his escort. Then she hugged him from behind and whispered something
in his ear. Eric didn’t catch it, but whatever it was, it stunned and flustered
Nolien. Just as quickly, she let go and pushed him forward.

“Understand, Tenderfoot?”

“Yes, I do.”

At the exit of the Arch’s chamber, Ponix guided him to the
room for teleporting non-living matter. As an explanation, he pointed inside.
Resting there was his rowan staff and the sling he used to carry it. He took it
in both hands and felt its power reinvigorate him. He put it on his back and
walked out straight and tall.

As he walked out, guardians flanked him on both sides with
two more in front and behind him. One could imagine them protecting him because
they faced away from him and the crowd was indeed hostile. Meza’s group shouted
abuse at him as he approached and passed by. They stopped short of striking him,
but the strength of their spirits made him faint. He collapsed twice on the way
to Hariana Inquires.