Protagonist Bound (48 page)

At last the internal crust of buildings gave way to a clear view of the city center. We approached the roundabout at the front of the Capitol with great trepidation.

In our defense, this was an effect the giant statue in the midst of the traffic circle seemed to have on every person that entered its vicinity.

It was the most massive statue I had ever seen—a solid gold dragon that stood on its hind legs and stretched to the sky like a beanstalk. The beast had its massive wingspan open, the length of which must’ve been over three hundred feet alone. It stretched out before us—casting the surrounding streets in shadow.

I stared up at it and felt an inexplicable sense of dread forming in my throat.

Out of instinct I tightened my satchel’s strap around my shoulder.

I knew the dragon wasn’t real. It was pure metal, a city ornament that had been here for at least the last two decades.

Despite this logic, the beast’s eyes triggered something strange inside of me. I could no more explain it to the others than I could to myself. But as best as I could characterize it, it felt like even as the statue stood still—permanently frozen in time—I could almost sense the fire burning inside of him. Waiting to get out.

In the end I chalked this up to the dragon’s inherent purpose of signifying the city’s power,
and
freaking out any potential troublemakers who might try to challenge it.

The statue’s intimidation factor alone was definitely a good way to scare off people who even considered bringing trouble to the Capitol Building. And if the dragon didn’t do it, the several dozen guards positioned around the statue’s platform, the steps leading up to the Capitol, and the building’s rooftop and parapets surely would have.

The guards looked decked out and stoic as ever on this day. Their silvery metallic armor and helmets glinted in the sunlight—cobalt plumes sticking out from the tops. Each one had a knife sheathed at his side. And, while the ones positioned at higher vantage points all held crossbows trained on the city, the guards on street level brandished an assortment of weapons ranging from maces to swords to really sturdy machetes.

“Ideas?” I said after we’d been staring at the enormity of our task for a minute, calculating our highly improbable odds.

“Well, we definitely can’t go straight in,” Jason said—gesturing at the steps where one guard was handcuffing a civilian who’d attempted to sneak inside.

“Or up,” Blue added, pointing to the roof where eight guards had their bows drawn and were ready to fire at even the slightest disturbance.

Daniel pushed past me. “How about down?” he proposed.

Daniel led us to a manhole a couple of blocks away hidden in an alley.

One ladder and several rats later, we were wading through the filthy water and grime of the sewers below the streets. I could sense SJ cringing from time to time whenever the slush grew particularly murky or stank, but (ever the good sport) she did not complain or protest our chosen route. It was our best option after all. Moreover, assuming her genius remained consistent, the muck wouldn’t matter very soon anyways. The second we stepped out of here the enchantment of her SRB’s should’ve kicked in and returned our dirtied shoes to their former crisp and clean states.

Other than the filth, the five of us made our way under the city with no setbacks. In fact I was so distracted by the uncharacteristic lack of problems that I didn’t even think to ask Daniel how he knew the way.

Okay, that was a lie. I did think to ask. But when I opened my mouth to do so, a moth flew inside and I almost choked to death. When the blasted bug finally flew out of my windpipe I took it as a sign that maybe it was best if I just kept quiet for once and went with the flow.

After some time, the tunnel came to an opening that was an intersection for eight other tunnels. Daniel pointed to a ladder against one of the walls. I started to make my way toward it, but stopped when my ears picked up something akin to muffled voices.

“Do you guys hear that?” I whispered.

“Hear what?” Jason asked.

I held up my hand to silence him as I tried to pinpoint which tunnel the noise was coming from. It was getting fainter, but I was pretty sure the source of the sound was one of the western tunnels.

It didn’t matter though; a second later the supposed voices vanished completely. Whoever had been down here with us had gone in another direction and now all I could make out was the sloshing of the sewage water.

“Never mind,” I said, joining them at the ladder. “I thought I heard something.”

The others gave me a confused look, but ascended the ladder without any further ado. Daniel climbed up first and gave the sewer hole on the ceiling a good shove. Daylight dropped into the tunnel and we squinted as we climbed out.

The instant our grimy shoes hit cobblestone, a light, silvery glow flickered around them. In turn, I glanced down and discovered that the stain of sewer water on my boots had disappeared. The SRB had worked. My boots looked good as new.

SJ smiled as she inspected her own newly freshened footwear, clearly pleased with herself as she had every right to be.

I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again; that girl is absolutely brilliant.

We were now behind the Capitol by a bunch of dumpsters. Nearby, I spotted an entrance to the building through its kitchen. Servants were presently coming in and out of it—busily unloading catering carriages.

“Wait here,” Daniel ordered as he headed in that direction.

Naturally I was inclined to protest and do the opposite of what he wanted, but before I could pursue him SJ grabbed my arm.

“Give him a chance,” she whispered quietly.

I huffed and shook her hand off me. But I waited nonetheless.

A few minutes later Daniel returned with a young female member of the kitchen staff. She was small and freckled with a scrunched-up nose like a possum. Strands of brown hair had escaped her hair bun and hung in her face as she bowed to us excitedly and introduced herself as Kim.

“Daniel says you guys need help sneaking into the Capitol’s meeting hall,” she squeaked.

We nodded in agreement and she gestured for us to follow.

Somehow—I didn’t know how—but somehow Daniel had convinced this girl, this Kim, to fully cooperate with us. And it wasn’t just her; the entire kitchen staff she proceeded to introduce us to was more than happy to help us break into a room full of the realm’s most powerful VIPs. They ushered us into their domain like we were family, shook Daniel’s hand, and patted him on the back like a hero at his homecoming. It was
super
bizarre.

After some discussion, the staff figured the only way we could gain entry to the meeting hall unnoticed was by hiding under the tablecloth-draped dessert carts.

Not the classiest or most original plan, I know. But assuming none of us sneezed, it would get the job done.

There were three large carts. Blue and Jason hid under the first and I was expecting SJ to join me under the second. However, as I positioned myself beneath it—making sure neither me, nor my satchel, would protrude out—I saw she had already been concealed within the third and was being wheeled away. Daniel, instead, crawled in next to me. Before I could argue, the tablecloth fell around us and our cart was in motion.

“What was all that about?” I whispered to Daniel as we rode along, crouched way too close to one another for comfort.

“What?” he whispered back.

“Well, for starters, I wasn’t aware Lord Channing’s offered classes in sewage topography. Second, what was that back there in the kitchen? Everyone acted like they liked you.”

“Stranger things have happened, Knight.”

I felt the cart turn and I grabbed onto one of its sides so I wouldn’t fall out.

“I mean,” I tried again, “it seemed like they
knew
you.”

“They do,” he said flatly. “I used to work here.”

“Wait, what? When?”

“Before I came to Lord Channing’s.”

I stared at him, not fully processing the statement.

Daniel shook his head and released a short, frustrated sigh. “Knight, I’m
from
Century City. This place used to be my home. I know it might come as a shock to you, but I did have a life before all this, one that
I
had complete control over.”

I broke his gaze and didn’t pry any further. I’d never really put much thought into what Daniel’s life had been like before he was chosen as a protagonist. Most of the kids at Lord Channing’s and Lady Agnue’s had been at protagonist school since they were little. And many of us (myself included) had known that it was to be our destination long before then. As such, we’d never really lived any kind of life of our own choosing.

In that moment I found myself both envying and pitying Daniel. He’d had what I’d always dreamed of—a life that was his. A chance to be whatever,
whoever
, he wanted. But one day, without warning, it had been taken away from him completely.

I couldn’t imagine what that must’ve been like.

Suddenly I heard the sound of doors being opened, and our carts were pushed into the room that was to be our journey’s endpoint.

I didn’t need to see it to know the meeting hall was enormous. The ambassadors’ voices amplified and echoed off the tiled expanse when they spoke, as did the sound of the carts’ wheels rolling along the peach marble tile beneath us.

Several dessert orders later, the sound of clanking dishes and silverware came to an end. The massive doors shut once more and I knew we were now on our own. We tried to remain as still as possible while the Summit continued.

“Back to business,” said one ambassador with a particularly hoarse voice.

“Yes, well, we were finalizing updates to put in the next
Century City Summit Review
,” replied a woman with a deep voice that sounded way too much like a man’s.

“Ambassador Langley,” said hoarse voice. “Are there any developments with Princess Annabeth?”

“I’m afraid not,” Ambassador Langley responded. “As you all remember from our last Summit, the king and queen of Eebi gave birth to their daughter Annabeth in early spring. But I’ve spoken with The Scribes and her book has still not appeared.”

“The king and queen are getting restless. We can’t keep the girl a secret much longer,” man-woman interrupted. “The child is nearly seven months old and her birth must be announced.”

“Then we fake her book like we did with Prince Jonathan’s last year,” another female ambassador stated.

I recognized this last voice. It took me a moment to realize from where, but the source of that overly perky, booming tone eventually wormed its way through my memories. It was the Adelaide Ambassador—Sarah Steinglass. I was certain of it.

“Ambassador Lunus,” said hoarse voice. “How soon can a fake book be prepared?”

“By the end of the week,” Lunus replied.

“Very good,” Ms. Steinglass said. “Notify Lena Lenore and her team right away of the adjustment. And as always, remember, everyone that discretion is of the greatest importance in these delicate situations. Every royal has to be a protagonist; it’s tradition. If word got out that some were not being chosen and their books were failing to appear automatically at birth, it would result in confusion and chaos throughout the realm, anarchy even. It is as the Godmother Supreme always says; the system only works if it is consistent. No room for mistakes or outliers.”

I blinked hard like a surprised deer. I couldn’t believe what they were saying. Daniel seemed equally weirded out. I gave him a look that said, “
Are you hearing this?
” He responded with one that read something like, “
Shhh, I’m trying to listen
.”

We went back to attempting to make sense of what the ambassadors were talking about. But as their conversation continued, it just kept getting stranger.

“Very well then,” Langley concurred. “We shall announce in the
Review
that the child was born this past Tuesday. Oh, and that reminds me. Argon, have you had the Scribes remove the extra books yet?”

“Yes, Ambassador Langley. They will never be found,” Ambassador Argon responded in a low-baring voice.

“How many was it this time?” Ms. Steinglass asked.

“Three this past month, a total of eleven since our last meeting,” Argon admitted. “There have been four from Whoozalee, three from Midveil, two from Ravelli, one from Harzana, and . . . one from Alderon.”

“They’re coming from Alderon now too?” gasped man-woman.

Langley sighed. “I’m afraid so. New protagonist books are being generated for commons in all the kingdoms more frequently than ever. Some of the books are appearing when they are born, while others are turning up for commons who are already in their mid-teenage or young adult years. It’s unheard of.”

“It’s unprecedented.”

“It’s unfathomable.”

“It’s troubling is what it is,” Argon summarized.

“Well make sure the Scribes keep monitoring the teleportal closely and letting us know each time another common’s book appears,” Lunus instructed. “We will give them approval to announce a new book only if it does not interfere with this year’s main character quota. All non-approved books will continue to be destroyed. It is unfortunate, but it is critical for protagonist population control.”