The Four Kings (23 page)

“Well, I’m honored. We’ll use that friendship as a solid basis for governing the Mortals. They’d be so much better for it.”

“Good. Good.” Amanda nodded. Inside, she felt exuberant.

Her plan was working
.

So many questions.

She’d have to wait.

Chapter Twenty-Nine

One year, five months post-Liberation

Propped up onto two pillows and under the covers in her bed, Amanda was reading the latest rounds of opinions, editorials, and in-depth economic and political analyses in the stack of newspapers before her. Demus materialized across the room, grinning as usual.

He looked down at what he was sitting on. “Nice,” he said, “You finally got yourself a chair. Have you been expecting me lately?”

This time, Amanda’s face showed a warm welcome. “Yes, I have.” He beckoned a finger to him and patted the pillow next to her. “Come over here.”

Demus’ face betrayed exhilaration. He instantly appeared in a reclining position, about two feet away from Amanda, also resting his head on the headboard. “I don’t have to knock, do I?”

“You don’t have to knock anymore,” Amanda purred.

Demus could barely contain himself. He craned his neck to look over Amanda’s shoulder. “Hey! That’s me in there!”

“Don’t you know, Demus?” Amanda said exasperatedly. “You’re in the papers every day.”

“Well, I know my recognition factor is around ninety-four percent now,” he acknowledged proudly. “But I never read the papers.”

“That’s good. It’s amazing how much trash there is sometimes.”

“Like what?”

“Well, they’re always speculating you and Indie are a couple. Some of them have ‘leaked’ wedding plans between the two of you.”

Demus laughed uproariously. His body shook as the guffaws escaped from his belly, and he kept pounding on the mattress beside him with his right hand. Finally, with tears in his eyes, he stopped. “That’s so hilarious.”

Amanda gazed at him with new wonder. He appeared so masculine with his unprompted reactions. He appeared so much more –
human
.

Demus turned serious. “Any news in there about the labor-linked exchanges we announced between various employers and pools of qualified applicants? We announced that yesterday.”

Amanda frowned. “Nothing. Just a photo of you tackling that wizard in the hybrid rugby-broomball game.”

“Oh yes. Rugbroom.” He admired the large, professional-looking color photograph of him which showed him in crisp motion. “That’s a really good photo.”

“Which you supplied them with anyway.”

“Yes. Our live feed. Well, they sure know how to pick ‘em.” He smiled. “Do I still have my fan clubs?”

Amanda sighed. “Still a ton of fan mail.” She rolled her eyes. “Honestly, I don’t know why fans keep on writing stuff no one reads. It seems like such a waste of time.” She flipped to the next page. “I even get fan mail now, too. A lot of marriage proposals. A ton of job offers, like I’d even consider these.”

Something caught Demus’ eye in the newspaper. “Hey! What’s that?”

Amanda gazed at an illustration of the four Liberators – Demus, Indie, Justica, and Regi – all sitting around a globe on a table. All four wizards had bibs on their chests, and held knives and forks in both hands. All were hungrily eyeing the planet Earth, which already had a slice cut out. Amanda smiled. “It’s a political cartoon.”

Demus was puzzled. “There’s no drawing of anything identified with government.”

“You’ve never seen one before?
Man
. Demus, a political cartoon’s meant to entertain, not educate. It’s a way of expressing how society feels about a political figure. They can be very cruel sometimes.”

He scowled. “That seems so disrespectful.”

“Yes, but they’re very ingrained within our culture. They’ve been around ever since the printed press was invented. Some politicians are even flattered at the attention, no matter how brutal it is, and ask the newspapers for a framed copy to hang in their offices.”

His eyes widened. “You serious?” Upon looking more closely, something in the cartoon caught his eye. “Hey! How come I’m the only one that has horns coming out of his head?”

Amanda grimaced, and feared his reaction. “I hate to say this, but some commentators have connected your name to the word
demon
.”

“Dammit!” Demus swore out loudly, startling her.

“Anyway,” Amanda frantically tried to find time to suck in some breath, “in some political cartoons, you have horns.”

Demus angrily zapped at the cartoon. She looked on in wonder. The offending cartoon had now been replaced with another one, showing a caricature of Arthur K. Walker, recently deposed President of the United States, grinning maniacally and smoking a cigar with the word “CUBA” on the label. This time, Walker had horns growing out of his forehead. As Amanda’s brain protested while processing the strange developments, the newspaper suddenly jumped out of her fingers. It remained suspended into the air, about two feet above the bed, and spontaneously crumpled itself.

She couldn’t help but stare in wonder at the impressive feat of magic.

Suddenly, the ball of newsprint burst into flames. “Ohh!” Amanda exclaimed. The small fire, combusting itself in the middle of empty space, raged on for several more seconds. Then, with a
pffff
the fire died out and the entire image just disappeared.

“And that’s my opinion of the so-called honorable Arthur Kellogg Walker,” Demus said in a low growl. “A typical, bottom-feeding scum bucket.”

“Umm,” Amanda said as she tried to divert his attention. She got out of bed to retrieve two more political cartoons she had clipped out previously. She showed them to Demus. One showed a caricature of Indie, dressed in aristocratic late 18th century France ladies’ robes, wearing a beehive wig with tiny bowties adorning it around the circumference, shouting, “Off with his head!” The drawing of Indie showed her as angry and spiteful. The other editorial cartoon consisted of a caricature of Regi, grinning with his arms above him, as dollar bills rained down around him.

“Wow, wait until they see these!” Demus marveled. Fortunately, his mood had lightened up upon seeing his comrades also experience mocking treatment in the press. He frowned. “I don’t get it.”

“Well, the one of Indie was when you were all debating the merits of capital punishment, for that inmate named Josh Tanner, who as you know has been executed.”

“Oh yes,” recalled Demus, nodding. “But Indie didn’t actually…”

“No, I know. But that’s what political cartoons are all about. They give an impression from watching what you do. They connect the dots.”

“That’s so unfair,” Demus said angrily.

“Well, people who read them know where to draw the line. They don’t necessarily believe the cartoons. They’re a form of satire, you could say.”

“Interesting.”

“And this one of Regi, that’s an old one, when he was introducing the bitcoin economy.”

“That’s so…
misleading
. Regi abolished paper money, he wasn’t revelling in it.”

“I know, I know, but it’s so much easier to draw money than to draw bytes of electronic transaction data. The point the cartoon was making was that we have a new and powerful figure that’s going to control our money supply.”

“Disgusting,” Demus spat out.

“Get used to it, Demus. That’s the way it’s always been and always will be.” Amanda folded the paper and put it away. “All isn’t lost, though. You know the debates you all had with Professor Knight? About the role of government? Believe it or not, although it wasn’t a network show, they broadcast it on live television. It actually made number two in the ratings.”

“Wow,” said Demus, impressed. “What was number one?”

Amanda averted her eyes and grimaced. “Date-a-rama.”

“What’s that?”

“It’s a dating show. Ten beautiful, impossibly perfect women vie for the attention of a handsome, impossibly perfect man. He goes on dates with all of them and kicks off one woman every week.”

Demus clenched his teeth. “That’s trash.”

“I know, Demus. Here’s a quote for you, I know the wizards love them. Here it is.
‘No one ever went broke underestimating the intelligence of the American people.’
”

“I know.” He joyously displayed a smile. “H.L. Mencken.” He thought some more. “Here’s another one.
‘There’s a sucker born every minute.’
”

“P.T. Barnum,” Amanda said confidently.

“Nope.” Demus enjoyed her mistake. “He was widely credited with this saying, but it was actually a rival, David Hannum, who was actually criticizing P.T. Barnum.”

Amanda pouted, conceding to Demus.

Demus moved in closer; an uncertain expression crossed his face. “Amanda,” he started off with a hoarse whisper, “I’m really sorry I got off on the wrong foot. You’re an incredible, talented woman. I just want to get to know you better. Can we be friends again?”

Surprised at how much she could easily fake her response, Amanda soothingly murmured, “Of course, Demus. You’re welcome to use your magic chair anytime.” She impishly pointed at the chair cross from her bed.

Relieved, Demus started laughing. “You mean my throne?” That chair wasn’t anywhere as elaborate or as dignified as a regal throne.

“Yes,” Amanda seductively whispered as she stroked his left arm, “You’re my king. My philosopher king.”

Demus looked as if he was out of his world. Very, very happy.

“Demus?”

“Yes?”

“You won’t mention our special relationship to any of the other wizards, will you?”

The robust wizard appeared startled. “By Elsedor, no! I won’t!”

Who’s this Elsedor?
Amanda wondered. But she pushed her thoughts aside – for now. “You won’t tell Regi, will you?”

The rivalry was apparent as Demus’ eyes flashed jealousy. “Definitely not.”

“All right,” Amanda smiled, still feeling guilty. “Tell me more about your world.”

Demus appeared smug. “Shoot.”

Amanda was excited now. “Why do you all always wear the same colors every day? Don’t you get sick of it?” She pointed to his red shirt, which now consisted of tiny triangular patterns, with some shades of grey within.

“That?” Demus glanced at his shirt. “It’s tradition. Every time there’s a wizards’ council, the boys have to wear yellow and red. The girls have to wear blue and purple. These are the symbols of honor and authority. Same with the other continents: Suda, Afri, Aji, and Euro.”

The revelation hit Amanda. Yes, she’d seen the Five Continent Forums, and everyone was indeed wearing red, yellow, blue, and purple. And yes – she just realized it now – the men always wore red or yellow, and never the same color within a wizards’ council.

“Why do the men wear the warm colors, while the women wear cool colors?”

He seemed mystified by her question, but shrugged. “Perhaps because the men are hot under the collar.” He laughed at his own joke.

Yes
, Amanda thought. Makes sense. She’d recalled how all the other wizards stood in awe of whichever wizard was a member of council. Their themed shirts were indeed status symbols. She remembered how any of the four would subconsciously ‘strut’ when wizard observers stood close by to examine them in awe.

Demus added more. “Now that I think about it, we have perfect balance on each council. There are two men, and two women in each council. We have two warm colors, and two cool colors. Ying and yang, you know.”

“Interesting,” Amanda said sincerely. “So you never get sick of red?”

“Nope,” Demus answered with pride. “It’s who I am now. I’m instantly recognizable because of this. Not only among wizards, but also among Mortals.” He thought some more. “Besides, I don’t just wear the same shade of red every day. As you’ve seen hundreds of times, I create new patterns of red.”

“With magic.” Amanda spoke in hushed tones. “How do you pick the wizards who will be on the council?”

Demus held up a finger to his lips. “Shh,” he said. “I can’t tell you that. That’s classified information.”

Amanda pretended to pout. “Aww, I was so interested in how your world really works.”

“Well, there are some things you can know. Some things you can’t know.”

Amanda tried one more idea – for now. “Demus, I would love to see Emerana again. It was so fascinating. Can you take me there?”

He gave a wry grin, hinting at reciprocity for further favors. “Soon. Maybe soon.”

Chapter Thirty

Amanda and Regi whooped with joy as they rode atop dolphins in the vast atoll situated in the middle of the Great Barrier Reef, off Australia. The dolphins weren’t real – Regi had conjured them up – but they felt very authentic.

Amanda marvelled at the smooth, soft plastic-like skin of the dolphins, which was easy to grasp. The two dolphins playfully jumped above the ocean’s surface, descended back down, submerged, and then repeated the cycle. She had learned to hold her breath upon anticipation of the re-entry back into the foamy salt water. She felt the spray at all times as she surfaced, adding to her excitement. Regi was having the time of his life as well. Amanda enjoyed his uninhibited, deep laugh. She longed to ride right behind him on his dolphin, putting her arms around his muscular chest and pressing her body against his back.

Snapping out of her daydreaming, Amanda cried out, “This is so incredible!”

“I know!” Regi answered back, shouting.

The two dolphins, under direction from the two riders, swam closer together, resting more. Amanda peered nervously at Regi. “What if people see us together?”

Regi waved off the notion. “We do have to be careful, Amanda. But I always choose spots where no one can spot us.”

“Not even the other wizards?”

“Well,” he flashed a toothy grin. “That’s always a complication, isn’t it? But let’s live for the moment, as I always like to say.”

Amanda agreed. “More!” she cried.

Together, Regi and Amanda laughed and cheered as the magical dolphins took them on a thrill ride, bobbing up and down underneath and above the ocean’s surface. They splashed and surfed for another hour, and finally they were exhausted.