Plague of Mybyncia (26 page)

“But what
is
a Gorgen?” Jace glances
between the three Dofinikes. “Why would—”

“The answer is
no
,” the queen shakes
her head, frowning as she starts to pace. “I have already lost half
my city. You are all guests and you have done more for us than I
could ever repay. I will
not
reward your selflessness with
certain harm.”

“This is our next option, your Majesty,”
Qippert attempts, moving toward her. “We must attempt…”

“No attempt. It will not happen. What are the
other options?” she looks anxiously between Sampson and Clarence
who clear their throats.

“Like I said before,” Clarence sighs, “we can
search for Dilly… possibly rummage through the nearby homes… but it
won’t be of much use any longer. The longer the toxin is in the
body, the less effective the Dilly will have.”

“And you think pure Dilly will cure them?”
she asks.

“Not
cure
,” Sampson shakes his head,
“delay the virus from spreading.”

“Again, that is only temporary,” Queen Ravan
glowers. “You said it yourself; it may not work at all.”

“We have to
try
,” Clarence
stresses.

“And the antidote?” she pauses. “Are there
any possibilities?”

Sampson and Clarence inhale. There’s
something that they’re not saying, something they’d rather not
address, here or at all. But it’s a conversation needing to be had
and sooner or later, it will surface. This might be the thought
passing through Sampson’s mind when he finally steps forward with
another large exhale.

“There are…” Sampson says after a moment.
“But they are dangerous—if not more so—than the Gorgen. I am afraid
anything at this point would be a risk.”

“The question you need to ask yourself,”
Clarence jumps in, “is how big a risk you’d allow us to take for
your people.”

The queen bristles again, refusing to answer
as she turns from them and paces.

Reid takes this opportunity to break the
sudden silence. “What’s a Gorgen?”

Clarence sighs. “A
nasty
creature that
destroys anything stealing its main food source.”

“The Dilly?”

He winks.

“How nasty?” I ask.

Clarence shrugs, “Usual razor sharp
teeth…”

“The Millix have sharp teeth,” Tucker tries
reasoning.

“But on every limb? And how many again…” he
turns to Sampson.

“Eight.”

“That’s right,
eight
.” Clarence turns
back to us. “We’re looking at eight limbs coated with razor sharp
teeth. And that’s not even their main defense.”

“Jesus…” Jace exhales, looking dumbstruck for
once. “Do we want to know?”

“I do,” Pratt nods. “I want to know.”

“Well…” Clarence sighs. “I’d say their venom
is pretty nasty too. Burns right through you.”

“Acid?” I ask.

Clarence simply nods.

“Okay…” Tucker looks between everyone, “so
how is that better than the alternative to get the actual
antidote?”

“Well…” Sampson clears this throat. “One
option would be a return to Harrizel and retrieve the Tregmint. I
only have a little left of the Vilbrees I brought and that’s a
concoction of my own making. I fear it won’t really do anything to
help the infection. The
Tregmint
however…”

“Why don’t we do that?” Werzo cuts him off
with a scoff, glancing around like it’s more than obvious. “Save
ourselves a trip through hell. Sounds a whole heck of a lot easier
than facing an acid- spewing-teeth monster.”

“Gorgen,” Ariana corrects.

“Right,” Werzo nods. “I vote Harrizel.”

“The problem with returning to Harrizel,”
Sampson explains curtly, “is the hordes of Vermix that will be
sweeping the area.”

“Yeah but…” Werzo starts, still trying to
argue his case. Sampson cuts him off before he has any time to make
a point.

“The plant is around Ellae which is exactly
where they’ll be combing. It’s a suicide mission, if anything. And
it’s also not a guarantee to heal the virus.”

“Well what is?” I ask.

Sampson’s mouth thins as he lowers his eyes
to the ground. He starts to pace, clearly unwilling to answer the
question. Finally, after a long minute, Clarence steps forward and
clears his throat, addressing the room which is hanging on his
response.

“A visit to Nerwolix.”

“What’s there?” Reid asks.

“The flower where the toxin originated. See…
today, while Sampson and I were out clearing the city, we did some
research on the virus. It is not native to Mybyncia but has
special, rather potent powers to disable the Mybyncian operating
system. It comes from a flower in the southern terrain of
Nerwolix.”

“So someone there…” a gulp, “…wants to hurt
us?” Sansa’s soft voice breaks through. She’s sitting up with a
little color returning to her face.

“Not necessarily,” Clarence says. “Perio
admitted to setting the toxin loose. He may have picked it up there
at some point. The
good
thing about the flower is that it
favors equilibrium.”

“What does that mean?” Tucker frowns.

“One bud causes the infection. One bud
expunges it,” Clarence waits a moment before going on. “This is the
surest method of healing those infected.”

Another minute of silence passes and Werzo
speaks up again. “Okay, then I take it back. Screw Harrizel—let’s
take a trip to Nerwolix.”

“And therein lies the issue,” Qippert shakes
his head with the slightest glance in Sampson’s direction. “We are
not welcome on the planet.”

“Not welcome?” I ask.

“But if they knew it was the Fychu…” Mae
tries.

“
I
am the reason we are not welcome,”
Sampson finally says, quiet settling again.

“Fychu…” Qippert consoles in a low, tender
voice.

“Are they against Fychus, or all Arizals in
general?”

“They are not a welcoming planet. Much like
the Muskos’ philosophy, they keep to their own, and despise
outsiders. To broach their lands would be a possible act of
war.”

“Even if you were to say we were in trouble?”
Mae tries. “That the Mybyncians…”

“We’d be taking from their planet for our own
use,” Clarence shakes his head. “Bartering is an old and accepted
custom, but we’d have nothing to trade.”

“But the toxin originated from
their
planet,” I say. “We could always throw guilt or shame at them.”

“It would be our fault for allowing ourselves
to succumb. No,” Clarence shakes his head, “if we were to go to
Nerwolix, it’d be seen as nothing more than trespassing and
thievery.”

“And with the Fychu…” Qippert’s voice is so
soft it’s barely audible.

“Why aren’t you welcome?” Pratt asks,
mirroring his delicate tone.

Sampson inhales. He starts to answer, but
shuts his mouth again, concentrating on his response. Holding us in
suspense a moment longer, he keeps his eyes low. “I am not welcome
in the Nerwos’ Kingdom. There is a deep history between us that
goes back a long time and I’d rather not discuss it at the moment.
The Zingfinold tribe has no vendettas against me—that I’m aware—so
if we were to visit the planet, we would have to make our arrival
there. Now,” he finally looks up, “do not misunderstand me. If we
were to try this, the Zingfinolds are just as opposed to outsiders
as the Nerwos—perhaps more so. They can be quite savage and would
kill us as soon as they saw us. It would be just as dangerous
facing them as the Gorgen.”

Jace shifts uncomfortably, opening his mouth
to speak but closes it again.

Clarence notices this, nodding him on.
“Something to share?”

“Well… if the Fychu is so unwelcome… would it
be wise to have him—for you to stay here?” he’s speaking directly
to Sampson now.

“Yes,” he says. “It would be. But Clarence
and Qippert aren’t trained as combatively as I am. If the
Zingfinolds were to attack—and again, this would be the most likely
of the scenarios—I wouldn’t feel right sending anyone in alone. I
am the best—and worst—weapon you have.”

Everyone is quiet at the all the information
that’s been exchanged.

“So,” Jace almost laughs, “it’s between the
acid spewing Gorgen, facing the Vermix, and starting a possible war
with a savage tribe?”

Clarence nods. “Pretty much.”

“Geez,” he exhales, “and I thought I was
having a
good
day.”

“So, your Majesty,” Clarence tries again,
imploring. “We can’t start a war with Nerwolix. Not before we see
how the pure Dilly will work. It might do the trick and save
ourselves a trip to our death.”

“
This
could be a trip to your death,”
she’s still scowling and unrelenting.

“Is the flower found anywhere else?” I
ask.

“And what’s it called?” Pratt wants to
know.

“A Nazual,” Sampson’s voice comes out a
whisper, “named for the empress who both saved her kingdom and
betrayed it.”

“Which first?”

Sampson looks up. “Betrayal.”

“The Nazual is only indigenous to Nerwolix,”
Clarence explains. “If there are any floating outside of there, we
don’t know about it.”

A thought hits me, almost like lightning. “If
Perio let the toxin out, he’s got to have the antidote right? He
planned on scaring and killing his people into trusting him… so he
must have the other bud to heal everyone.”

“Unless he got rid of it already,” Qippert
says.

“Why would he do that?”

“He knows he has been sentenced to death,”
Qippert sighs. “He may not care to save his people any longer.”

“It’s worth a try. If we’ve got the antidote
right here, we won’t have to worry about acid-spewing monsters or
the Vermix or Zingodes.”

“
Zingfinolds
,” Clarence corrects.

“Right. Sorry.”

“But what if he’s dead?” Booker asks. “When
we got the chancellor, he said to leave Perio. Die by his own
hand.”

“But a portion of his cell is water-free. He
could still be there
with
the bud,” I say.

Clarence, Sampson and Qippert weigh the
idea.

“Come on,” I try, “let’s just see. Worst case
he doesn’t have it. But if he
does
and then something bad
happens when we’re negotiating with the Zingfinolds, we’ll feel
terrible.”

“Alright,” Sampson agrees. “I’ll make a visit
to his cell.”

“With Qippert and me,” Clarence nods.

“When?” the queen asks.

“As soon as possible. We still have enough
Dilly and food to last until tomorrow. We’ll make the visit to the
prison here shortly and see what we can find. If he doesn’t have
it, we’re going after the Gorgen next,” Sampson starts to head for
the solid coral door. “Tomorrow.”

Before the queen is able to object, he’s
gone, Qippert and Clarence behind him. After a second, Clarence
peeks back in, “Boys? Mind if we grab you for a second? And yes,”
he nods, “even you Werzo. Don’t worry, manual labor’s not
involved.”

Werzo scowls, reluctantly following Reid,
Tucker, Jace and Booker out of the room. The chancellor glances
around the suddenly estrogen-filled room.

He clears his throat. “I shall keep an eye…”
he exhales, “…on them. See what…” another large gulp, “…I can
do.”

Queen Ravan begins to follow him but the
chancellor stops her, “Please… your Majesty…” he inhales deeply.
“Stay here. Your safety…”

“I think it best—”

“No…” he’s firm. “I will… watch over…”
another gulp of air, “…the Fychu.”

“Yes,” she acquiesces. “Alright.”

“Thank you,” a deep exhale and he turns for
the door.

Clarence ducks back in, as though
anticipating the chancellor’s decision. “Figured you might want to
come along. Here,” he places Keller’s arm over his shoulders. “No
need to struggle. Reid?”

He jets back in and between them, they assist
the chancellor out of the room. Once they’ve disappeared again and
the door is shut, the queen looks to us.

“I really do not approve. They do not know
what they are dealing with.”

“What
are
they dealing with?” Mae
asks.

Queen Ravan slumps onto the large central
bed, her eyes lost in thought. She’s not here, but gone, far in the
distance of some horrific memory. “Sansa was still a baby when the
last one wandered into the city. Gorgens are wild, you see, so most
had never seen them. They have only heard about them in stories
from their youth. Creatures of the dark. From the depths of
Mybyncia’s deepest corners where evil lurks...

“When it arrived, it killed a few dozen
before anyone knew what was happening. And then… then the screaming
began. Chancellor Keller mobilized our defenses. Thank goodness it
was young, no more than a baby itself but still…” and her orange
eyes grow wide with terror, “the size of the teeth. The range it
had… so many unprepared. I am sure they had never seen such a
creature. So many immobilized in fear, unable to move, to respond,”
she gulps, willing herself back into the present. “By the time we
finally managed to kill it, hundreds had been lost.”

“How’d you kill it?” Pratt asks.

“Puncture wound,” Ariana exhales with
difficulty. “Chancellor…”

“Chancellor Keller stabbed it with its own
tooth,” the queen finishes her statement. “It had broken off in our
earlier attempts to slay it and just as it went to strike the
chancellor, he stuck the tooth in the under-patch of its belly. It
is the only vulnerable spot on a Gorgen and
extremely
difficult to get to,” she pauses, thinking about it. “It was a very
brave thing he did.”

“And no more have ventured into the city?”
Mae asks.

“No…” the queen is drawn back from her
memory. “And we do not go looking for them.”

“Does the Fychu know this?” I ask.

The queen rises, pacing around the room
again. “He is aware of our history, yes. Even during his
imprisonment at Harrizel, the news of our attack was circulated.
The Gorgen is a feared creature among the Three Worlds.”