Chapter 7
The showroom was as large as the sitting room but far more cluttered with the artifacts Xandreleusmarin collected. On the other side of the room was a platform. It was large enough for a single dwelling, fully furnished with all the necessary living arrangements. This, Kira presumed, frowning at Mister, was to be the display case for his latest acquisition. The Z'Dhia's gaze was not directed toward the platform, but a glass case to the right of them a few meters ahead. The case held the volume of the Book of Dreams, propped upright against a little stand.
Xandreleusmarin, still wielding the plasma ray, shoved past them and went over to the case. He ran his fingers over the enclosure, then flashed them a smile that was equal parts malicious as it was clever.
"As you can see, I've taken great care of the book," he said. "The case is air-locked. Hermetically sealed to keep its optimum condition. But, of course, that won't be the case for the other display." He glanced toward the platform and grinned again. Still pointing the gun at Kira and Mister, he backed over to the platform, then picked up a communicator resting on a pedestal nearby. He aimed the gadget at the platform, then pressed a button. A pale blue holographic light formed all four sides of the platform. A security field. "As you can see, this display won't be hermetically sealed, designed to allow the full comforts of a. . .home."
The Z'Dhia crossed his arms. He no longer looked amused. "You expect me to live in that."
"Well, I admit, it is rather crude. But given the materials I had to work with, it is the best I could do. However, once we leave the planet, I will find far better accommodations for you."
"You're leaving the planet," Kira said.
"What is the point of possessing a N'Dhia if you can't showcase him?" he said, confirming Kira's worst presumptions. "I have plans for the Z'Dhia. I think all the private collectors would be thrilled to see a real live N'Dhia on display. I think I should very much like to showcase him in different venues. A traveling oddities faire of my entire collection, with the Z'Dhia being the main attraction." He grinned shrewdly. "Yes, I think I should like that very much."
Kira shook her head and looked at Mister.—He really has lost his mind.
—His particular madness has nothing to do with insanity, Valestria. Then, turning to xandreleusmarin, he said aloud: "I thought you wanted a trade?"
He nodded vigorously. "I haven't changed my mind about that."
"Then who are you going to trade with? If I am the object to be traded, then someone else will have to trade me for the volume."
The Starrian's brow wrinkled. "Well, of course, the Betan will be trading."
"No, not me," she said, raising her hands. "I don't have the authority."
"Nonsense. . ."
"I don't own him, so how can I trade something I don't own?" She shot a glance at the Z'Dhia. It was a stalling tactic, a riddle to distract the collector, and not altogether a terribly efficient one. But it could give them time. To do what, Kira had no idea. She glanced at the weapon in the collector's hand. If he were only closer, all she need to do was reach over and….
Xandreleusmarin looked puzzled. "You're trying to create a clever puzzle box, aren't you?"
"Clever? Hardly," Mister said. "You said yourself I was priceless. Therefore, it's only a matter of logic. If I am priceless, as you say, then I am also ownerless. You cannot trade something that can't be owned. And you cannot own something that was never yours to possess. Therefore this entire enterprise is moot. Give me the volume, Marin, and I'll pretend this conversation never happened." His voice lowered to a growl.
The collector wrinkled his nose and looked from Kira to Mister. The wheels of his mind appeared to be spinning wildly. His eyes widened. "You claim to be ownerless, but that isn't entirely true, is it? That would presume you belong to nothing and no one. And even I know that the Idris-Sarran believe they belong to everything and everyone. You belong to the Idris-Sarran, so, therefore, they possess you as you possess. So, if there is to be a trade, then let it be between myself and the Idris-Sarran. In return for their precious volume, they must relinquish you to me. And if they don't—" He shrugged—"it doesn't matter. Either I take you alive or dead, but you will be mine, Z'Dhia. Now, enough of these logic puzzles." He aimed the security shield operator at the platform and pressed the button again. The shield was deactivated. "Step inside the platform. Once I have you secured, then I will release the volume to Agent Wood."
"Don't drag me into this," she said. "Besides, I thought I was a prisoner too."
"I'm not keeping you, Betan," he scoffed. "You're free to leave. Do with the volume as you wish. But the Z'Dhia stays with me." He gestured with the weapon again for the Z'Dhia to enter the electronic cage.
Kira looked frantically about the room. There had to be something she could use to defend herself and the Z'Dhia. But all she saw was old junk. Even the battle armor, draped upright on their posts, was weaponless. She glanced over her shoulder and noticed again Tkulka standing behind them, still brandishing his blade. His presence was a sore reminder of how neither she nor Mister had any allies in that room. As they exchanged slow and wary gazes over that realization, Kira was overcome with a sense of failure. But, more than that, she felt she had failed as well. Her supervisor should have fought harder to allow her to have defensive means. Now she had nothing.
Mister smiled softly at her, but his gaze was sharp and focused. Her heart jumped when he pulled out The Key. He was going to open a portal.
Tkulka stepped forward and drew his blade, but the Starrian raised his hand to let him know it was all right.
"What is that?" Xandreleusmarin said.
"This?" he said, holding The Key out to the collector. "It's how I travel. I suppose you'll be wanting it."
Kira gasped.—What are you doing? Just open the portal.
He smiled. There was a glint now in his eyes.
"What is that?" Xandreleusmarin repeated, his eyes dazzling. "Is it an artifact?"
"It comes from Idris-Sarra. It's very rare."
"Rare?" he said, scratching his chin. "What is it? A weapon of some sort?"
"No, not a weapon."
"Is it a gem? It looks of onyx."
"It is made of onyx, but it isn't a gem. It's a very, very important instrument. You won't find it anywhere else in the universe."
Kira stared hard at the Z'Dhia. She had no idea what he was doing, and yet somehow she sensed there was a plan underneath all that madness. There was always a bit of the trickster in the Z'Dhia. She looked from Mister to the Starrian, who was now bristling with curiosity.
"Hand it to me," he demanded, returning the activator to the pedestal. "Let me see it."
The Z'Dhia held it out to him. "Take it. I won't be needing it anymore."
The collector edged toward Kira and Mister, his face at once radiating both wariness and curiosity. He still wielded his weapon, but his eyes never left the object in the Z'Dhia's hand.
"Here," he said, gesturing his hand. "Give it to me here."
"All right," Mister said, then threw The Key over xandreleusmarin's head. It sailed toward the platform and skittered only a few meters away from the first step.
The Starrian's eyes were huge as they followed the direction of The Key. He ran toward it, his back facing them and, for the first time, his weapon pointed away.
Mister's plan snapped into place.
Without thinking, Kira charged toward the Starrian and rammed into him as hard as she could.
He tripped and fell onto the platform, face forward, landing with a hollow grunt. His weapon arced into the air and bounced onto the stone floor with a loud clang.
Mister took several long strides toward the pedestal and grabbed the activator. Within seconds, the blue security shield surrounding the platform had been activated, trapping the collector inside.
He got to his feet and spun around, eyes wide with shock. He ran toward the edge of the platform, then stopped and stared at the blue line that barricaded him. "What are you doing?" he shouted. "Let me out."
Mister set the activator back down on the pedestal, then went over to the platform to pick up The Key. He stared hard at the collector. There was no malice or even anger in his stare, but a hard reckoning, a disavowal, a rejection, and dismissal. Kira went to his side and locked her hand in his arm. The collector stared back at them both, neither redemptive nor apologetic. But there was fear, a growing panic of self-centered fear.
Mister put The Key back into his cloak and went over to the volume inside its display case.
The collector demanded he be freed. "Do you know who you're dealing with?" he shouted, but neither Kira nor Mister responded.
The Z'Dhia opened the case and took out the volume.
He asked Kira for her traveling bag. "It's upstairs," she said. "In the sitting room."
"Then let's get it and leave."
They started to turn before xandreleusmarin shouted at Tkulka. "Stop them. Strike them down."
The Dkokli stepped forward with his still-drawn blade.
Kira and Mister froze. She looked up into Tkulka's dark, flat eyes. Her heart seized as her gaze traveled back to the spot where xandreleusmarin dropped his weapon, just at the base of the platform. Her mind whirred. If she dove for it, would she be able to reach it before Tkulka fell on her with his blade? She recalled how smooth and agile the Dkokli were as they moved through the woodlands. Within a few swift strides, Tkulka would be on her before she moved an inch.
"Tkulka, strike them down now."
The ridge of skin over Tkulka's eyes slanted upward. "Strike them down?" he said.
"Yes, do it now. They are enemies of the Dkokli. I order you to strike them now."
Kira grabbed Mister's hand.
The Dkokli looked at xandreleusmarin behind his security shield and then at Kira and Mister, jerking his head up and down like a confused chicken. Then, without any fanfare, he returned his blade to the rope on his waist.
Kira trembled inside with relief.
"What are you doing? I order you to stop them now," cried xandreleusmarin.
Tkulka slowly shook his head. Stunned, the collector asked why he should be betrayed in such a manner. "After everything I have done for you and your people, you should treat me this way," he said. "Why are you doing this?"
"It is the Festival of the Elders," he replied.
The collector's mouth fell open. Demoralized, he moved slowly away from the security shield and began simpering. "This is not right," he said to no one but himself. "This is not right at all!"
Kira smiled, then mouthed a "thank you" to Tkulka. Whether he understood or not, she did not know. Whether he cared about her gratitude, she did not know either. She was only relieved that she was wrong.
Soft implosions echoed through the open windows of the castle. At first, Kira thought something had gone wrong, a fireworks display that had backfired. But then Tkulka lifted his head toward the ceiling, his eyes arcing, before he moved over to one of the windows. Kira asked what was wrong. He faced her with the same expression. "It is begun."
Kira and Mister joined him at the window. In the distance, the hzana trees were going up in puffs of smoke. One section of trees would implode. And then another, and another, until it seemed the entire woodlands were exploding like volcanoes, sending up clouds of ash in the air. But the ash was not gray or white, but a penetratingly bright red.
The trees were releasing their spores.
They drifted in every direction on the breezes that blew over the lake and scattered over the treetops, the surface of the water, and the wild vegetation beneath the window, turning everything scarlet. The sky for now was green, but once the spores drifted past the atmosphere and lingered, they'd catch the eye of the sun.
Spores wafted toward the castle in a nebulous cloud. Kira stuck her hand out of the window. Tiny, diaphanous spores the color of blood covered her skin. Despite their almost microscopic, downy ends, they were surprisingly smooth and silky.
She smiled.
Tkulka stuck his hand out of the window as well and welcomed the reddening of his skin. Mister smiled faintly at Kira and joined them.
For a long time, they said nothing but watched the spores dance off their wiggling fingers.
Soon the air was alive with explosions. The Dkokli were setting off fireworks. The light flared in the dying sun, briefly setting off the drifting spores and turning the sky red. Kira, Mister, and Tkulka stared transfixed out of the window of the castle as the distant rumble gripped the descending night.
Menace of the Ro Kan Empire, now available at Amazon.com.