Coronation: A Kid Sensation Novel (Kid Sensation #5) (18 page)

Indigo and I actually took our morning meal on a terrace that connected to the parlor, at which point she apprised me of the effort she had exerted the previous evening to suspend the
prexetus
. Despite hopscotching between four galas and glad-handing dozens of bigwigs, she had been unsuccessful in garnering the necessary support.

“It’s gone well beyond simply forging alliances and proffering favors,” she said in disgust. “They all just want to see a spectacle at this point. I don’t think I could enlist any more allies at this juncture if I promised them all our wealth.”

On my part, I essentially glossed over what had happened at Vicra’s party, telling my grandmother that it had only been mildly entertaining. I skipped altogether any mention of what had happened earlier that morning, as I wasn’t sure how’d she react to me basically sneaking out, leaving no word of where I was going, putting myself in danger, etcetera. (To her credit, Indigo did notice that I had changed my ears, but other than that she didn’t delve into the subject of why.)

The rest of the morning passed by in something of a blur, as my grandmother – resigned to the fact that the
prexetus
was unavoidable – drilled me on proper manners and decorum. After all, I was to be tested by the queen herself; if nothing else, she should at least be impressed by my gentility and refinement. Thus, I had to endure what was essentially a pop quiz on royal etiquette and politesse: what to say, what to do, what was proper, what was a gaffe… Fortunately, Sloe had done an admirable job of instructing me on such things during our journey from Earth.

Eventually satisfied that I wouldn’t make a fool of myself or embarrass the House Nonpareil, Indigo finally gave me her stamp of approval shortly before lunch.

“It will be time to eat soon,” she said, noting the hour. “Is there anything in particular you’d like?”

“Well, I actually have plans,” I said.

“Really?” my grandmother said, appearing both surprised and a little hurt. “With who?”

I could feel my cheeks turning red and I cast my gaze downward. “No one special.”

“
Sxibbo
, have you met some girl?” she asked teasingly.

“No!” I countered, almost defensively. “I mean, yes, but… She’s really not a girl, okay, since she’s probably old enough to be my mother.”

Indigo laughed. “Four decades in Earth years would make a Caelesian roughly the same age as you in terms of development and maturity.”

“Yes, I know. A forty-year-old Caelesian female is about the equivalent of a sixteen-year-old girl from Earth. Still, there’s a huge age gap there.”

“There was a similar age disparity between me and your grandfather.”

I blinked. “What?”

“You already know that I’m a lot older than I look – at least by Terran standards. And John wa–”

“Whoa. Wait. Slow down,” I said, cutting her off with a wave of my hand as the implications of what she was saying hit me. “Just how old are you,
Sxahnin
?”

“You’re missing the point,” she said, sidestepping the question. “This girl you’re interested in, how old would you say she is?”

“First and foremost, I’m not interested in her,” I declared. “I already have a girlfriend. Second, as to appearance, if this were Earth I’d peg her as late teens to early twenties. Finally, I get your point – that age between Terrans and Caelesians isn’t an apples-to-apples comparison.”

“Very good,” she said, sounding pleased that she had taught me something. “You do understand. When your grandfather became aware of my age, I–”

“Stop,” I said in an insistent tone as I raised my hands almost defensively. “I can’t hear any more about you and Gramps and this age thing right now. It’s too much.”

“Alright,
Sxibbo
,” Indigo said with a grin, still finding mirth in my discomfort. “We can talk about it another time.”

“Don’t feel obligated,” I said sincerely, which just elicited more laughter from her.

*****

I left for my lunch with Myshtal shortly thereafter. This time, I took my grandmother’s advice and flew to the location via transport. As luck would have it, the pilot was like a taxi driver, with an encyclopedic knowledge of the Acropolis. All I had to do was show him the destination programmed into my GPS, and he knew how to get there. Thus, just a few minutes after taking off from the castellum, I found that we had arrived.

Lunch this time was being held in what I later learned was a public park. The transport had set down on a landing pad, and as I disembarked, I noticed the typical aesthetics: a wide variety of trees, a nearby pond, numerous walking trails, and more. The one thing I didn’t see (and which I expected to be present) was people. There didn’t seem to be a single person around.

There was, however, another transport ship – much larger than my grandmother’s – not too far away on the landing pad. Mentally flipping a coin, I headed towards it, but had taken no more than a few steps in that direction before I saw Myshtal walk into view from the other side of the vehicle.

She wore an outfit that resembled a sleeveless, white pantsuit, and it flattered her in every way. Smiling, she waved and then stepped quickly towards me.

“I’m glad you made it,” she said when we were only a few feet apart.

“I’m glad you invited me,” I replied with a grin.

“Well, it was the least I could do after you saved me from that boring party.”

I laughed, but before I could say anything in response, I caught movement coming from the other transport. My laughter practically died in my throat when I saw who it was: Vicra and Nylerin (whose
gnuglebbin
, thankfully, was nowhere in sight).

“Hello,” Nylerin called out, and I instinctively yelled back, “Hi.”

“I’m sorry,” Myshtal whispered. “They found out I was meeting you for lunch and invited themselves along.”

“No problem,” I said.

“Are we eating or not?” Vicra asked, interrupting any further conversation. “I’m famished.”

Myshtal sighed in frustration, then motioned for me to follow her as she turned and headed back the way she had come. I did as requested, trailing her to the other side of her transport, where a table had been set up in the shade of the ship. On it sat a rectangular metal box that seemed to be dispensing foodstuffs – the Caelesian equivalent of a picnic basket, I suppose. Vicra and Nylerin were already retrieving food from the device and preparing to eat, so we joined them. In a few minutes, we were all busy eating.

*****

I found myself being more talkative during lunch than I had the previous day – a fact that I chalked up to being considered something other than an organ-grinder’s monkey by at least one of those present. Still, the conversation seemed to focus on me and my powers, especially after the change in my ears was noted.

“I simply got tired of people constantly talking about them,” I said in response to a question which had been posed by Nylerin. “It seemed easier to just alter my ears while I was here.”

“Don’t take this the wrong way,” Vicra said, “but it does make you more…palatable, physically.”

“Now how in the world would I take that the wrong way?” I asked sarcastically.

“Well, I thought he looked fine before,” Myshtal said. “Unique.”

“Apparently you and my grandmother are the only ones who thought so,” I stated.

“Well, they certainly made you easy to pick out in a crowd,” Nylerin added.

“I supposed they did,” I agreed. “I guess now people will be forced to look at my face to identify me – the same as everyone else. Maybe they’ll even remember my name.”

Myshtal snickered slightly at that, and then exclaimed, “Oh! That reminds me why I invited you here for lunch. Hurry and finish. There’s something I want to show you.”

I quickly finished eating – not going at super speed, but fast enough to be done in roughly two minutes. By that time, everyone else had finished as well (or at least stopped eating). Myshtal then stood and began walking away.

“Follow me,” she said as she headed for one of the walking trails. The rest of us did as requested, falling into step with her as she led us down a tree-lined path.

We ended up walking for about ten minutes, during which time we didn’t come across anyone else. As it turned out, Vicra had arranged for the park to be closed to commoners while we were there. It was the kind of special treatment that I would probably never get used to, but I didn’t comment on it.

Eventually the trail we were on opened up into a huge circular area, in the center of which was a large, magnificent tree with brilliant purple-and-gold leaves. I stared at it for a moment, noting that the tree grew straight and tall in an almost unnatural fashion. Its branches, too – from what I could see of them – were also unusual in that they seemed to grow out from the bole in a completely uniform fashion, with all limbs at the same height appearing to be identical.

All in all, I got the impression that this wasn’t simply a tree, but something august and imperial. I was about to make a comment to that effect when the wind picked up slightly and I heard an eerie musical sound, like someone nearby softly playing a church organ.

“What is that?” I asked no one in particular, noting that the music seemed to have no obvious source.

“Where’s it coming from?” Nylerin asked, also intrigued.

“Just listen,” Myshtal said.

I did as she asked, concentrating on the strange but oddly hypnotic music that seemed to be coming from everywhere and nowhere. And then I realized what it was.

“The tree!” I shouted.

Myshtal rewarded me with a glowing smile. “It’s a Cantillate tree. It makes music when the wind blows.”

“It’s incredible,” Vicra said in an awed voice.

“Incredibly
rare
,” Myshtal corrected. “Come take a look.”

She stepped over to one side of the circle, where I noticed for the first time something like a raised, stone lectern. On top of it was a gilded plaque with the following words carved into it:

THIS TREE IS DEDICATED TO THE MEMORY OF J’H’DGO – THE FIRST RULER OF ALL CAELES. AS IT IS THE LAST OF ITS KIND, SO SHALL THERE NEVER BE ANOTHER LIKE J’H’DGO. A GREAT WARRIOR. A GREAT KING. AND A GREATER MAN.

The plaque was signed “Plavicre the Glorious.” That meant that the tree – and possibly this entire park – were incredibly old.

“This is really the last Cantillate tree?” I asked.

“Yes,” Myshtal replied. “Legend says there used to be forests of them ages ago.”

“What happened to them?” I asked.

“No one knows,” Myshtal said. “They just seemed to die out – all except this one.”

“Well, I’ve been to this park dozens of times,” Vicra said, “and I’ve never seen this before.”

“They transplanted the tree and the plaque here a few years ago,” Myshtal said. “It was part of the queen’s private garden, but she decided this was something to be shared with all Caelesians.”

Vicra snorted in derision. “Well, it might have been more newsworthy if it wasn’t for the fact that Plavicre dedicated dozens of sites to J’h’dgo all over the planet. Each one of them is supposed to be special in some way.”

“Well, the guy loved his father,” Nylerin said. “Why shouldn’t he pledge a few places to his memory?”

“I don’t think J’h’dgo was Plavicre’s father,” I said, tossing in one of the few facts I knew about Caeles.

Nylerin looked surprised. “He wasn’t?”

“
Gzint msint!
” Vicra said in exasperation. “Your ignorance of Caelesian history is almost criminal.”

“Well, if you’re so smart,” Nylerin said testily, “why don’t you enlighten me?”

“I’d be happy to,” Vicra declared, then cleared his throat before continuing. “Plavicre’s parents ruled a minor kingdom on the southern continent of Caeles. They were assassinated when he was still a boy, leaving him as their sole heir. J’h’dgo was a relative – an uncle or something. He stepped in and raised Plavicre, basically ruling until Plavicre became a capable adult. At that time, J’h’dgo handed over control of the planet to him.”

“Wait,” I said. “How did Plavicre go from being heir to a small kingdom to getting dominion over all of Caeles?”

“After the death of his parents, Plavicre’s kingdom was besieged on all sides,” Vicra said. “All of the neighboring monarchs suddenly viewed his domain as ripe for the taking.”

“Let me guess,” Nylerin said. “J’h’dgo fought back.”

“Yes,” Vicra agreed, “but not initially. At first, he attempted to sue for peace, and brokered several treaties meant to ensure a cessation of hostilities. But the other nations viewed this as a further sign of weakness. Almost immediately and in unison, they violated the accords. That’s when J’h’dgo realized that the only way to establish peace was with war, and the only way to stop their enemies was to conquer them. So he did.”

“Taking over a few fiefdoms is still a far cry from controlling the entire planet,” I said. “There must be more to the story.”

“There is,” Myshtal said. “You have to understand that Caelesian society was much more aggressive and combative back then. Sovereigns were always looking to expand their realms, and J’h’dgo – although he ruled in Plavicre’s name – was viewed by his contemporaries as being no different. That being the case, surrounding kingdoms always felt that he would eventually attack them, so they would try to strike first. So, if J’h’dgo was fighting a war in the south, the land would get invaded by a kingdom to the north. If he was battling an enemy in the east, the country would be attacked from the west.”

“That had to be incredibly frustrating,” I surmised.

“No doubt,” Myshtal agreed, “especially when J’h’dgo would typically try to treat with adjacent kingdoms first. But either they would reject offers of peace out of hand, or breach the treaties later. This left Plavicre’s kingdom in an almost constant state of war.”

“You’d think at some point his army would get tired of fighting,” I said. “Or simply get whittled down over time as people got maimed or killed.”

“It’s funny you should say that,” Myshtal said. “According to legend, J’h’dgo had the power to heal others.”

“What?” I uttered in surprise. Self-healing was an ancillary power that a lot of supers back home had. The ability to heal others was something else entirely, so my curiosity was openly piqued.