Chapter 42
Chapter Forty-Two
Tuscany
I don’t know where Kong is, behind me or in front of me, but after an hour or so of driving over gravelled roads, the motorbike finally stops.
I am eager to climb out of the small capsule-type object I have been sitting in.
Being completely blind, I am unsure whether I should remove my shroud, so I stand in silence. Alone. I feel alone. In a world I have entered but can’t see.
I’m not the queen here.
Someone removes my hood, and I shake my hair around my shoulders, collecting myself, grounding myself.
I search the area, eyes taking in what appears to be an underground train station from the old-world. The once grey walls are chaotic with spray-painted images that seem layered as if people just kept adding to the vast collective piece, never bringing the concrete walls back to a blank state.
The dormant tracks are in a pit to my left and disappear into a dark tunnel.
“The only way into New Whyte, or as you call it, Ruins S,” a man says, drawing my gaze to him, “is through this train tunnel. If you attempt any other way, our scouts will either shoot on sight, or if you’re lucky, interrogate and ask you to leave.”
New Whyte. Of course, they wouldn’t call it Ruins S. To them, it’s home. To The Trade, it’s ruins. New Whyte…
Our eyes meet, and he blushes. “You’re as lovely as they say. I’m Louis.”
He has dark hair and strong, bushy brown eyebrows. He’s dressed in a scuffed leather vest, canvas pants and— my perusal stills on the shiny weapon snug in a holster at his hip.
“Where is Kong?” I ask again, scanning the space, suddenly hearing my own breath in the profound silence. A second black motorbike leans on its side; chrome parts are dented and tarnished.
Did it tip over?
Or was there a struggle?
Something catches my eye from above. The little girl from earlier rushes down concrete steps to greet me.
“I am sorry, my queen.” She takes my hand in hers. “They said we had to do it this way. And wow—” She gapes up at me with genuine awe. “You’re so beautiful! Your eyes are glowing! Do all Xin De people have glowing eyes?”
I feel strange, but the little girl in me wants to be kind, not to scare her or ignore her. I know what it’s like to be ignored.
“Yes,” I say, then blink my nictitating membrane for her to see, earning me a winning gap-toothed grin.
“Wow! That’s like a lizard!”
I giggle, and it’s both real and forced. Where is Kong? “Yes, I suppose it is like a lizard and an eagle.”
“And a cat?” she peeps.
“Yes, and a cat.” I look across at the man who is pulling a bag from his bike. “Where is my Guardian Kong?”
He frowns and looks down the tracks into the black depths of the tunnel. Then back at the other bike on its side. “Ah, they must already be here. I guess Riley took him up to meet our leader. I drove slowly.” He shrugs, eyeing me. “Precious cargo and all.”
I squeeze the little girl’s hand. “What is your name?”
“Billy,” she says.
“Can you show me around your tower, Billy?” Already moving toward the steps she descended, I am desperate to get to the top and see if Kong is waiting for me. I don’t like that he is out of sight. A sense of foreboding shifts through me, but I have to ignore it.
We take at least fifty steps up to the surface, the aroma of New Whyte hitting me immediately.
First, herbs and organic matter, followed by the undertones of rot, grease, and faeces.
Strangely, it is not entirely unpleasant, but rather real.
The streets are quite clean; the odour of waste comes from various pots and trays crowded with blooms and vegetation. Oh, the smell is fertiliser.
Billy guides me down the old street, my gaze rolling around and up and down the high decrepit buildings. Balconies are draped in linens and clothes; quiet chatter creates a hum; couples dressed in plain clothing walk hand in hand; children sit on the roadside, playing with a spinning top.
They all stop when they see me, stop their conversations mid-word, their feet mid-stride. I feel their eyes.
“Don’t worry, my queen.” Louis gestures for the civilians to continue on their way. They do, though not without lingering. “Some of our people have never seen an outsider before. Never seen a Xin De.”
“You’re too pretty to be real,” Billy chirps, swinging our combined hands.
“How many people live in New Whyte?” I ask, twisting to see Louis follows us closely.
“I’m not allowed to answer that question. I will give you a small tour, only because the children wanted to meet you. I won’t lie; if it were up to me, I would have declined your request.”
Harsh truths that I have to accept. An unwelcome feeling drops to the pit of my belly. “I understand.”
We wander down another street, and little Billy points joyfully at different weathered buildings, at the small, simple Exchange Hubs seemingly operational at the base of each.
She waves to a child on a bicycle, to another gaping at us so long the piece of bread in his mouth falls out.
“So, Sire never visits here?” I pry, trying to gauge how this lifestyle fits into my concept of The Cradle and The Trade.
“We have watched the tanks move around the outskirts but never enter the heart of the city. We keep it quiet. We are well aware of our surroundings, what buildings block what areas, and how to keep activities out of sight unless you’re upon them.”
“Why?” We take a dim passage that cuts through tall buildings. “Are you hiding?”
“Why do you think?”
I glance over my shoulder at him, finding his dark brow arched in question.
“We don’t have tanks, my queen,” he adds. “We don’t have many weapons. Our stealth is what keeps us safe from…” He clicks his tongue thoughtfully.
I stop walking. “From?”
He considers his words, before saying, “From Primus Karn.”
I tilt my head. “Who?”
“The Endigo king of what you know as Ruins E.”
I stiffen. “You are at war with ruins E?”
He strides in front of me and opens a single wooden door, presenting me with a quaint, colourful room. “Let’s not talk of such things in front of Billy. Please come inside. The class wishes to meet you.”
Before I walk in, I peer through the gap. Inside, twenty or so children sit cross-legged on a multicoloured mat in front of a woman around my age holding a book. It looks like a nursery—reading time. My Sired Mother would read to us every day and every night before bed.
“Wow!”
“It’s the queen!”
“She’s a Xin De!”
Their sweet childish voices come at me from every corner of the intimate circle, soft and full of wonder that makes my chest ache with melancholy.
I step over the threshold and into the room, but before the door shuts me inside, I place my hand on it.
“Where is Kong?” I ask, aware of the small amount of time I have here. “I was told I could bring one other person.” Even if I hadn’t meant to bring him, Louis doesn’t know that.
“He will be along soon, I assure you.” He gestures toward the class. “Look, they have so many questions for you.”
I don’t like that answer. But I don’t say that in front of the children.
I don’t like what is happening right now, but feel it may be my own weakness, my own paranoia, and I don’t want to ruin this special moment for the children.
In my mind, I see Eagle Rome, so I try to shrink the image before it consumes me and I… shrink, too.
“Hello,” I breathe.
Billy pulls out a chair for me, a small wooden chair that would never fit a Xin De man. That little detail makes me smile because everything in The Estate is crafted to the larger size and demand of a Xin De male.
I don’t know how much time passes as I answer their questions about The Cradle, The Trade, my Xin De genetics, and The Estate.
They are particularly engrossed in my tales of Odio, my brother’s giant pet eagle, who flies into each battle first to scout the invaders.
The children bubble with interest and glee.
I wish I could bring a member of their community to visit our nurseries, to engage in a similar exploration of different cultures and lifestyles, but that would never be allowed.
We leave the small classroom, entering the streets again, a heavy gust picking up my hair and shifting it around my body.
“The buildings shield the Redwind quite well,” I mutter.
“Yes,” Louis agrees, closing the door with Billy inside, and I feel the sound of it closing more than I hear it. “Our founder, Whyte, chose this district of the old city wisely.”
I glance around the vacant streets. For reasons I cannot fathom, my heart rate suddenly speeds up. There is a silence that stirs, causing my skin to break out in goosebumps. I am alone with this man. “But The Trade.” I clear my throat. “They don’t come here?”
“Very rarely.”
My sweeping gaze stops on him. “Not to collect orphans, then?”
He freezes and stares at me, eyes holding mine until it’s difficult to continue.
“No, my queen,” he states adamantly, and I blink, cutting the intensity. “Not in my lifetime. Not on my watch.”
Another small gust of wind whirls down the passage as we stroll back the way we came. The calm I forced on myself rides away with the sturdy wind.
Stopping suddenly, Louis nearly bumps into my back. “Take me to Kong now.” I spin to face him, finding him too close.
His expression darkens. “I’m sorry, my queen. We had very little choice.”
I step backward as if pushed. “What?”
There is a tiny glimmer of regret in his eyes, enough to squeeze my lungs to the point of pain. I clutch at my chest, desperate to open it, gain air, claim oxygen.
"We have our community to consider,” he offers plainly. “Our people. Where was the Royal Collective when Primus Karn invaded our city and took my daughter?”
I don’t understand his words, but my feet are growing roots, needling into the gravelly street, so deep my legs won’t move. I want Kong. Where is my Kong?
"This is with regret, my queen,” he keeps talking, but his voice seems distant to the loud beating of my heart. “You seem to be worthy of the reverence that surrounds you, but we have been offered a lot of weapons to fight our war against New Karn. With these, we might stand a chance.”
"Y-you promised me no harm. Why the theatrics? The children? Billy?” The words squeak out. Then there is movement at my shoulder, dragging my attention that way. I see three men approaching us, and my mind screams ‘run!’
Run, run. Run!
But my legs won’t move.
"So, you came peacefully. It was the nicest way to do this. Don’t put up a struggle now.
” Louis smiles—a secret smile. How did I miss that?
Why didn’t I analyse his smile? Today… I missed the smile’s message.
Did I miss it, or did I ignore it? Too focused on not unsettling the little girl. “I don’t wish to see you hurt.”
I’m so cold.
“My brother is the king,” I whimper. “H-he will come for me.” They don’t respond to my weak threat.
The men surround me—one behind, one to my left, one to my right.
Their faces dissolve and become planes of nothing, blank skin.
Like the nurses… The nurses from The Estate with their indifference. "Where is my Kong, my Guardian?”
"He has already been taken below, my queen.” There is a sharpness to his voice that seems capable of literal damage.
Then Louis bows.
He bows…
And backs away.
"Below?” Below? Below what? Below where? “What does that mean?” I choke out. “What is below?”