Plague of Mybyncia (48 page)

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Authors: C.G. Coppola

Tags: #Romance, #blood, #love, #scifi, #adventure, #action, #sex, #war, #jealousy

BOOK: Plague of Mybyncia
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“Hey kid,” I elbow her side. “Try not to miss
me too much.”

“Try not to miss
me
. And uh…” she
shrugs, kicking the ground, “tell Ariana I say hi, okay?”

“You got it,” I turn to Mae who dons a
worrisome frown. Placing my hands on her shoulders, I keep my voice
soft and reassuring like my words. “It’s going to be
okay
.
We’ll be back soon and Walker will watch over you.”

“Sure will,” he winks. “You got nothing to
worry about.”

“See?”

“Promise,” Mae frowns. “
Promise
you’ll
come back.”

“I’m coming back,” I drop my hands, keeping
focus on her while heading for the group, “before you know it,
we’ll all be back.”

Forcing a nod, she bites her lip, watching as
I rejoin the Rogues. Walker also watches, his own uncomfortable
frown curving over his lips. Offering a final wave, I clasp Reid
and Able’s hands while Tucker and Clarence close off the rest of
our circle. Sampson, Jace, Werzo, Booker and Vix complete the
second unit, standing only feet away.

“Alright,” Clarence grins, “you all know the
drill.”

I glance once more at Pratt and Mae, trying
to memorize their faces. Pratt’s forcing a smile but Mae doesn’t
even try. She doesn’t want us to go and it stings me somewhere deep
inside. But suddenly, the familiar boost of energy lights under my
feet and the girls disappear altogether, replaced by the familiar
lavender fogginess.

Chapter Twenty-Six:
Return

This is fun, isn’t it? Clarence’s voice rings
in my mind, his closed mouth set in a wide grin. The purple smoke
billows around his face as everyone glances at each other, all
floating heads in the blurring lavender background.

It definitely beats waiting around an
airport.

Clarence’s eyes find mine. Don’t think I’ve
had the pleasure.

That’s because it’s not, Reid’s voice echoes.
Consider yourself lucky.

Clarence frowns. Hmm… I’ll remember that.

So we’re going to Mybyncia? Able looks
between myself, Reid and Clarence.

Yes, Clarence’s voice answers. The rest of
you will have to get him situated. We won’t be there for very long,
but he’ll need help with the Stancimis and geography of the FH.

What’s a Stancimis?

Reid’s laugh echoes in my head. You’ll find
out.

The lavender fog dissipates just as a crisp,
cloudless sky and an endless sapphire ocean appear in its place. My
feet land on Mybyncia’s uneven shore and it takes me a second to
get my balance. Able does the same, nearly falling to the sand but
he catches himself before he does. Sampson and his group arrive a
moment later, landing a few yards up the shore. Spotting us, they
make their way over as Able gapes wide-eyed at the new
surroundings. “It’s a beach.”

“We’re only on the shore,” I smirk. “Just
wait.”

“So they’re…” his sights flicker to the
ocean.

“Yup. Completely submerged.”

Able grips his neck. “I’m not a very good
swimmer.”

“You don’t need to be,” Clarence motions
toward Sampson who is venturing for the pile of black suits and
headgear. They’re layered in a tall heap near one of the closest
limestone walls where we left them.

“Just enough,” Sampson distributes the black
gear. “Suit up.”

“What’re these?” Able frowns, glancing over
the material. He looks up. “They don’t come with pants, do
they?”

“Not that I’m aware,” Clarence grins. “But
you’ll need it to survive underwater, which is where we’re headed
so,” he indicates Able to do so, “let’s get a move on.”

After a few minutes, when we’re all suited up
with our headgear fastened, Sampson stands at the water’s edge, his
arms raised. He has his back to us so I’m not exactly sure what’s
happening. A couple seconds pass before the water starts rolling in
heavier and then, suddenly, a gray Stancimis emerges.

“What the…?” Able backpedals to Reid and
me.

“Gala,” Sampson coos with adoration before
turning to the rest of us. With his arm outstretched, he indicates
our approach. “Shall we?”

Clarence ushers us forward, guiding Able by
his shoulder. “Here we go. Everyone up.”

Hesitant, Able frowns at her size,
concentrating heavily on the red eyes which seem to pin him with
interest.

“She’s not going to bite,” Jace mocks. “Not
if you don’t give her a reason to.”

“Listen Rogue Commander,” Able nervously
chuckles, “you’ve had a while to acclimate. I’m sure you weren’t so
calm the first time you saw one of these.”

Jace grins. “Cool as a cucumber.”

“Yeah, I bet.”

“It’s fine, Able,” I offer my hand. “Come
on.”

Still reluctant, and with a final look over
of Gala’s intimidating form, he accepts my assistance and carefully
climbs up. I show him how to grasp the hardened craters and secure
his feet in the pockets on her back. Once he’s hooked into place,
he looks to me with a worrisome frown. “This thing’s safe
right?”

“She’s safe.”

“Does it go fast?”

“Her name is Gala and she’s actually pretty
slow…” I glance at Reid with a secret smile, “…compared to the
Millix.”

“The what?”

But Gala submerges the next second, stealing
Able’s attention. He desperately clings to her back, pressing his
face between her scaled craters with his eyes shut tight.

“What—are you afraid of water or something?”
Jace laughs.

Able flattens himself to Gala even more.
“It’s the drowning part I’m most terrified of.”

“You’re not going to drown,” Clarence says,
“not if you keep your suit on any time you leave the FH. Do that
and you’ll be fine.”

“What’s the FH?”

“Foreign Headquarters,” I explain. “Where
we’re staying.”

“At least for the night,” Sampson adds.
“Hopefully Qippert will be properly healed so he can take us to
Blovid in the morning. From there, we’ll regroup and return to
Nerwolix for Mae and Pratt.”

“Do you really think it’ll take a week?” I
ask.

“I don’t see why it should take any more than
a couple of days.”

“I feel bad leaving them.”

“Don’t,” Sampson reassures. “They’re guarded
and will be kept well-fed. The Zingfinolds, though highly dangerous
to outsiders, are very protective of one another.”

“But they’re not tribesmen.”

“Tucker is, and in his absence they will be
treated as such.”

I allow Sampson’s words to console me as the
image of their anxious faces decreases. It’s not like we’re leaving
them there forever. Just for a few days until we can drop off the
Nazuals, pick up Blovid and head back. We need to leave Mybyncia
with a renewed sense of power and regroup with the Dofinike leader
of the Arizals. It’s only a few days. I tell myself this over and
over but it never seems to ease the guilt of leaving them.

Gala pulls right into the Docking Station,
Able’s eyes growing wide as he takes in the architecture and size
of the grand, bulbous space. “Holy…”

“Yup,” I nod, following his stare. “That’s
pretty much what we said.”

“It’s huge!”

“And that’s what she said,” Jace grins,
flexing his brows before jumping down from the Stancimis and into
the less crowded station. The rest of the Rogues follow, even Able,
who’s nearly drooling at the gargantuan space. “Pull it together,
Commander.”

“I’ve been up in trees this whole time.
You’ve been here…” Able cranes his neck back, “…in Triton’s
palace.”

“With these underwater mayans,” Jace grins
again as a group of giggling attendants pass.

“It’s good to be home,” Werzo agrees, looking
after the same cluster.

“Alright boys,” Clarence shakes his head with
an amused grin. “We need to locate the queen or chancellor and get
this antidote distributed as quickly as possible,” he turns to
Sampson. “Think they moved Qippert?”

“Wouldn’t make sense with such a wound. He’ll
be in the same space.” Sampson leads the way to the attendant’s
room where we spent our last few days after the toxin broke
out.

We all follow along with swift, eager steps,
except for Able, who keeps stopping to stare at things. “How big is
this place?”

“Pretty big,” Reid slings his arm over Able’s
shoulder, “and currently filled with sick Mybyncians. The water’s
contaminated right now so they won’t be able to leave until it’s
cleaned itself out.”

“So they’re just waiting?”

“And to get healed,” I add. “Hence the
Nazual.”

He nods along. “Got it.”

We arrive at the enormous coral door and
after Sampson pushes it back, our entire group enters to find Queen
Ravan, Chancellor Keller, Princess Sansa and Princess Varille all
gathered around the central bed. The queen glances up, probably
expecting to see Mallup or another attendant but she stops at our
sight, her face paling.

“You have returned.”

Chancellor Keller’s head snaps up.
“Fychu?”

“Yes,” Sampson steps closer, “we’ve returned
and…” he shifts the bag from his hip to his stomach and gives it a
pat, “with a lasting supply of Nazual, I hope.”

The queen’s eyes grow wide with disbelief as
she glances between Sampson, Clarence and the Chancellor. She rises
with a forlorn expression, leaving Qippert’s bedside to cross the
room. Both princesses watch, neither affected by our return or
news. I shift to locate Ariana on the other side of the bed but
she’s not there.

“Fychu,” Queen Ravan approaches, her voice
strained as if it’d been overused or possibly cried out. “You have
shown us great kindness once again. We are forever indebted to
you.”

“Your debt can be filled by aligning
yourselves with the Arizals,” he removes the bag, handing it over
to Chancellor Keller.

“We have already done that,” he takes the
satchel and glances in. His face visibly relaxes before he wipes
the expression clean, looking to Sampson with grave intent. “What
else can be done?”

“Nothing more,” the Fychu shakes his head,
“we didn’t assist to exploit reward. Only support when it’s
needed.”

“Anything,” he nods, handing the bag to the
queen and stepping closer, “please—what happened? When you did not
return last night…”

“We were captured as expected and brought
before Hozfin.”

“They showed mercy because you are a
Fychu?”

“Ironically,” Clarence laughs, “that had
nothing to do with it.”

“I could have been a Nerwo for all they
cared,” Sampson explains. “We were trespassers and treated as such.
I think the thing that saved us was Vix here,” he gestures to her,
“and the other humans she’d inadvertently transported during the
Vermix invasion.”

“How so?”

“The Zingfinolds kill nearly all trespassers.
When Vix arrived, Hozfin kept them alive because the group
contained females and because of their genetic similarities. He
offered for one of their group to obtain a Zingfinold status by
completing their three-task initiation procedure. One of the humans
volunteered and the rest were allowed to stay on as ‘guests.’”

“And you were allowed to stay on as guests as
well?”

“No. One of our own had to make the same
sacrifice.”

“Who?” the queen glances around the Rogues.
“Where are the other two? Your females?”

“They stayed behind so Tucker could return
with us.”

“What are you talking about?” she frowns.

“Tucker,” Sampson indicates, “is the one who
has pledged himself a Zingfinold tribesman, but once you have been
initiated, you’re unable to leave. We worked it out so Pratt and
Mae will hold his spot while Tucker returns with us to help
distribute the Nazual.”

The queen still looks affronted. “So the
younger females have stayed behind with the barbarians?”

“They are not barbarians,” Vix says. “And
they are perfectly safe.”

“How can you be sure?”

“I would trust my life to the Zingfinolds.
And that is not something I offer lightly.”

“I see…” Queen Ravan drops to the bed,
shifting focus back to Sampson. “But you will be returning for
them?”

“Yes,” Sampson nods. “Once Qippert is well
enough, we will reconvene with Blovid on Nerwolix… figure out what
the next phase is.”

“How’s he doing?” Clarence approaches the
bed. “A little better?”

“He will not be ready to travel for another
day or two,” Chancellor Keller shakes his head, “but he is healing
nicely.”

“Good.”

“And Hozfin?” the chancellor looks to
Sampson. “Have you explained…?”

“Yes,” he sighs with hesitance, “…but at this
time, he doesn’t feel it’s necessary to intervene on behalf of the
Arizals.”

“No one is asking him to intervene,” the
queen scoffs, “but surely he must be concerned about the protection
of his people?”

“Hozfin feels they’re not in danger. The
Zingfinolds are a powerful and lethal race. They have confidence in
their abilities to ward off any intruders.”

“Ignorance,” the queen scoffs again, shaking
her head with disgust.

“Pride,” Clarence corrects. “The Three Worlds
have never been at war with each other. He can’t predict the
troubles that lie ahead.”

“Like I said—ignorance. If he was a smart
king, he would take the council of the Fychu.”

“He’s doing what he feels is best right now
and that’s believing in the potential and strength of his people.
King Hozfin has never met a foe he couldn’t defeat,” Sampson
shrugs. “He assumes this will be no different.”

“Not if the foe’s got an army one hundred
thousand strong…” Clarence shifts.

“When the time comes—and it will—Hozfin will
be pulled into this. Thankfully, we’ve already got two Arizal
tribesmen on board.”

The chancellor nods while Queen Ravan
continues to shake her head.

“Well,” Clarence rubs his hands together.
“It’s probably time to start passing out the Nazaul. Let’s get
everyone healed, shall we?”

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