Authors: Phil Stern
In fact, upon his return four days before, Anson’s mother had immediately noticed the change in her only son. Eating dinner that first night, she’d carefully asked him how things had gone.
“Fine.”
“Did you...” Trailing off, she let out a deep breath. “I mean, were there any problems?”
Not really, Anson thought, unless you counted discovery by the Network, battling two separate Demons, and a promise to extract a royal princess from the castle. “Everything went fine, Mom. No problems.”
“Oh.” Miserably, she looked down into her lap. “That’s good, dear.”
Groaning, he looked across the small table at her. “Mom, stop it! I’m a grown man now. I’ve been on campaign. You don’t have to worry about me like that anymore.”
“I know, but I’m your mother.” Smiling, she reached out and tussled his hair. “It’s just a hard habit to break, that’s all.”
Now, watching him from the relative comfort of their small house, tirelessly clearing the fields, she realized her son was indeed different. In some intangible fashion he’d almost instantly matured, a far cry from the shy teenage boy she’d conveyed to Brenlaw such a short time ago. Obviously, it was more than just his first military foray. Something had changed inside her son, but exactly what, she had no idea.
As Anson’s mother was about to step away from the window, she saw a pigeon land on the small wagon piled high with freshly cut corn, cooing urgently. Contemplating the bird a moment, Anson leaned over and took a paper from its leg, reading it carefully. Then, giving the pigeon some water and patting its head, Anson wrote out a reply, attaching the scrap to the bird once more. The pigeon promptly flew off, heading southward.
Her son then returned to work, as if nothing extraordinary had just occurred.
That evening, over dinner, Anson casually announced he needed to take a trip the following day, to visit a friend from the army who needed help.
“We’re well ahead on the crops, Mom,” he observed. “I’ll finish it up in a few days.”
“Sure. No problem.” Pausing a moment, she only smiled. “I’ll see you when you get back.”
Early the next day Anson struck out on foot, heading for the village of Yarlee in the next district.
***
A few hours later Prince Tenen startled awake, the ceiling drifting in and out of focus. Groaning, he painfully extricated his arm from underneath the girl sleeping to his right, it having gone completely numb from lack of blood.
“Oh, his Lordship is up, it seems?” Giggling, a second girl on his left snuggled closer. “After all that wine, I wasn’t sure you’d be among the awake before supper time!”
“How...how much did I have?” Tenen somehow mumbled, rolling over her to sit on the bed’s edge, throbbing head now held in his hands.
“We lost count, my Lord,” she primly observed. “You were completely mad with drink, though. Prince Warten tried to take a bottle away from you, but you singed his arm instead. Rather nasty, you were.”
Pulling on a robe, he gingerly wandered out into the living room, the previous night’s frivolity still on stark display. Princes and commoner girls lay all about in various states of undress, amidst bottles, wine glasses, and half-eaten food. Even one of the musicians slumbered peacefully in the corner, guitar clutched tightly to his chest.
Popping several pills to help clear his hangover, Tenen collapsed back in bed between the two girls. The one who’d slept on his arm now stroked his cheek.
“And what does your Lordship have planned for today?” she asked.
“A trip.” Though still tender, the drugs were already calming his throbbing head.
“Where, my Lord?”
“Hylen. A village to the north of here.”
The second girl screwed up her face. “What might be there, my Lord?”
“Someone,” he cryptically replied.
“Someone important?” the first girl prodded.
“Yes, actually.” Tenen put his arms around both young women, pulling them close. “Though he doesn’t know it yet.”
“By the King,” the second girl giggled, head on his chest. “Does Princess Lydia know what her prince has been doing all weekend?”
“Oh, I hope she does.” Eyes narrowing, Tenen once more stared at the ceiling. “I most certainly hope she does.”
***
Arriving in Yarlee near mid-day, Anson slowly rode down the main thoroughfare. It was a larger town than Hylen, with two general stores, several taverns, and a small marketplace.
Hitching his horse near the center area, Anson ambled about, stretching his sensitivity to its utmost. He dared not ask around concerning Aprina’s whereabouts, lest he draw unwanted attention to either of them. If he didn’t locate Lydia’s mother on this trip, he might have to come back some evening and search the outer areas. Maybe Lydia could even come herself on the Stallion that...
Wait! There, on the very edge of his perception, he sensed a powerful, muted telepath.
Meandering back to his horse, Anson slowly adjusted the saddle, trying to get a better fix on his target. It was definitely a female presence, now close by. Another walk through town might help him pinpoint her location more exactly.
Not three minutes later, absently studying a saloon, Anson felt a definite surge of power. Casually turning about, he saw a tall, brunette woman walk out of one of the general stores, carrying a small basket of fruit. She was dressed as any Yarlee native might be, with a long skirt, simple shoes, and a rough blouse.
Staying a safe distance behind, Anson followed her a few blocks farther down the street. When she stopped to window shop he would pause himself, idly staring into the various storefronts.
Abruptly, though, the woman he presumed to be Princess Aprina made a sharp left, disappearing from view. Hurrying forward, he found a narrow, empty alleyway between two buildings.
Where had she gone? Moving quickly into the alleyway, Anson looked for a doorway into either building. She was still nearby, that he could sense, but exactly where he couldn’t...
Without warning, Anson found himself flat on his stomach, head spinning. The sharp point of a knife was pressed into the back of his neck.
“Don’t move,” a woman muttered into his ear, weight pressing him down into the ground. “I can kill you before any power you have could take effect.”
“Indeed,” Anson mumbled. Only now did his inner clarion sing out, way after its warning could help him. “But I’m not here to hurt you.”
Aprina painfully crunched her knee into Anson’s spine. “Sure you’re not.”
“No, really. Your daughter Lydia sent me to find you.”
“Lydia?” The knife pressed even deeper, on the very edge of breaking his skin. “You’re lying! You’re a Demon sent to kill me.”
“No!” Mouth pressed into the dirt, Anson weakly coughed. “Your horse! It told Lydia where to find you. And she sent me.”
There was a moment’s pause. Abruptly releasing Anson, Aprina then spun him over, now pressing her knife against the front of his throat. “And who are you? How do you know my daughter?”
“Anson! My name is Anson.” Breathing heavily, he felt the cold steel against his bare skin. “I was a recruit, in the army. Lydia sensed me, found out who I was.”
“Really?” Aprina considered. “And just who are you?”
“A telepath, but I grew up in the villages. Not far from here. I have power, as you can sense.”
Frowning, Aprina studied him more closely, then stared right into his eyes. There was a surge of power, and then a calming, soothing state of utter equanimity. It was as if she was entering his very mind, sharing his soul.
“Tell me the truth, Anson,” she said. Pulling the knife away, Aprina then sat up, pushing her hair aside in the exact same fashion as her daughter. “Everything.”
And under her compulsion, that’s exactly what he did. Even if he’d wanted to, there was no way Anson could resist. Skimming over his childhood, the empowered youth described coming to the castle and his escape from the sleep-Demon, the battle with Senter in the Outlands, and then his subsequent meeting with Lydia.
“What insanity is this?” Aprina demanded once he’d finished. “You would put her life in danger with this crazy idea of escaping the Kingdom?”
“My Lady,” he breathed. “Lydia has been betrothed by the King. To Prince Tenen.”
“What!” Stunned, she sat back. “No, it can’t be.”
“It is, my Lady,” Anson gasped. “She cannot stay at the castle for long! At least, not without your protection.”
“Wait. Let me think on this a moment.” Standing, Aprina paced away several feet, absently staring down the alleyway.
Slowly sitting up, Anson felt her coercion draining away, his mind fully becoming his own again. “You are very powerful, my Lady.”
She looked back over her shoulder. “Not powerful enough, if my only daughter could be forced to marry that cruel young man.”
“But not for another year. We have time.” Now standing, Anson picked up her basket of fruit. “However, my Lady, we mustn’t stay here. Someone might come by.”
“Yes, you’re quite right. Come along.” Pushing Anson down the alleyway, they came out behind two buildings. Silently walking into the forest beyond, they stopped a quarter-mile in, between several large trees.
“We should be safe enough here.” Sitting on a log, Aprina now studied him more closely. “So you are the young man from my daughter’s sketch.”
“I’ve never seen any sketch, my Lady.” Settling down on a large rock, Anson smiled. “But we do share a connection. In fact, I’ve never met anyone like her.”
“Indeed.” Rolling her eyes, Aprina studied a young chipmunk who’d dashed out to see the humans. “Though from what you tell me of your background, I doubt you’ve met any other girls with power.”
“No, my Lady. None that survived, anyway.”
Aprina sighed. “It must have been very difficult for you, living a secret life.”
“It soon became second nature. My mother taught me well.” Anson paused. “How did you sneak up on me like that just now?”
“I didn’t, the first time around.”
“I don’t understand, my Lady.”
“I can shift back in time. At least, from my perspective. The first time I just saw where you went, how you reacted. Then I just hid in a doorway for you to come by again.”
Anson shook his head. “I never dreamed there were so many different talents in the world.”
“There are many variations on our native gifts, certainly.” Looking more closely, Aprina realized this Anson was a very handsome young man, his power strong and sure. She could well understand why Lydia was so taken with him.
“My Lady,” he hesitantly began. “Is there a way? To escape the Kingdom, I mean?”
“There could be.” Looking off, Aprina let the cool forest breeze play over her skin. “They say there is another world beyond ours. A place that is very different than the Kingdom.”
“Where is this place?”
“Beyond the Outlands. Some say it is both very near, and very far away.”
“That makes no sense.”
“Perhaps,” she said, looking back again. “But some things are not so easily understood. According to legend, it is where we came from in the first place. Our ancestral home.”
“Our home?” Anson repeated. “But isn’t the Kingdom our home?”
“At the moment, unfortunately.” Standing, Aprina looked down at him. “Anson, you must take my daughter away. You must find that place together. I have seen inside your very soul. You are very strong, and very pure.”
“My Lady...” Trailing off, he felt almost overwhelmed. “I would do anything for her.”
“Yes. And she needs you.” Shuddering, Aprina felt another surge of fear. “Lydia must not marry Tenen! Any risk would be worth running to avoid that fate.”
Anson smiled. “I agree.”
“Help her anyway you can.” Taking his hand, Aprina nodded. “In the meantime, I will find out more about this place, that other world beyond the Outlands. You two will go there together. It is the only way.”
***
Late that evening, Anson slowly rode back into the outskirts of his home village. It was a three-hour journey from Yarlee, and after six hours in the saddle that day he was ready for a relaxing night.
Suddenly, his inner clarion sang out, instantly bringing him to a state of readiness. Jerking his horse to a halt, he quickly surveyed the quiet country road ahead. All seemed as it should, soft white butterflies meandering over the dirt lane and fields to either side. No one else was in sight.
But then another horseman cantered around the bend up ahead, coming from Hylen itself. Perched atop a huge Stallion, this was obviously a royal. Not bothering to mask his mental emanations, Anson soon identified Prince Tenen. A half-minute later, the prince was almost upon him. Girding himself for action, Anson stayed where he was.
“Hello there.” Pulling up beside Anson’s horse, Tenen looked down from his greater equine height. “And what brings you out here this fine evening?”
“A journey, my Lord.” Quickly scanning the area, Anson felt no other telepaths. It seemed the good prince was alone. “To help a fellow soldier in need.”
“Yes, your mother said as much.” Laughing, Tenen slapped his horse affectionately on the neck. “Though I think she nearly died of fright when I rode up, asking about you. Why do you think that is, Anson of Hylen?”
It wasn’t difficult to imagine his mother now, sobbing in their small home, certain her only son would be arrested and executed. Despite Anson’s taut self-control, a wave of fury blasted out over the country lane.
“Ah, there you are! Finally!” Tenen had to pull up on his reigns, his Stallion spooked by the burst of cognitive energy. “Though I must say, you’re very good. I don’t think anybody else suspects your true nature.”
So here it was, the unmasking he and his mother had so long dreaded. And at Tenen’s hand, no less. But instead of the terror he’d always imagined, Anson found himself almost relieved.
“Actually, the Network does.” Silently, Anson studied the prince. Exquisitely dressed in expensive riding clothes atop a priceless animal, adorned with gold and other jewels, he was the very image of haughty, self-indulgent privilege. “Or at least they did, at one point.”
“Corporal Senter, who mysteriously disappeared on patrol with you. Am I correct?”