Rise of Keitus (13 page)

Azuriah jumped from his chair and strode to the door to his fortress, thrusting it open. He pointed at a Makalo who was working in the garden nearest the Shiengol. “Get him.”

Jacob jogged out to the Makalo. “Um . . . Azuriah wants you to come.”

The Makalo immediately dropped his rake and followed Jacob to the fortress. Azuriah held the door open, then shut it, leading them to the library where Jacob usually practiced.

“Take the Makalo’s hand,” he said.

Jacob stopped moving. He’d never held a guy’s hand before. He looked at the shorter person from the corner of his eye. The Makalo didn’t hesitate, but took Jacob’s hand. Obviously, Makalos didn’t have the same reservations most American guys had.

Jacob looked at Azuriah for further instruction.

“Warm it slightly. Not enough to burn. Then, when you’ve done that, Time-Travel while holding on to him.”

Jacob’s jaw popped open. “Are you serious? How am I supposed to know if I’m burning him or not?”

“He’ll tell you.”

The Makalo looked at Jacob with his eyebrows raised. His hand started shaking, and Jacob could tell by the emotions flowing around him that the Makalo was just as nervous and unsure about this as Jacob.

“I can’t do that—it’s insane! I’ll roast him alive.”

“Only if you’re not careful.”

Jacob held back a retort, realizing he would only further freak out the volunteer. “Okay.” He glanced at the Makalo. “What’s your name?”

“Gremul.”

“All right. Just tell me if it gets too hot.”

Gremul nodded and squared his shoulders.

Jacob bit his lip, cringing as he slowly started warming Gremul’s hand.

Before Jacob felt he’d done anything, the Makalo jerked away.

“Too hot! Too hot!” He cradled his palm to his chest and blinked rapidly as tears sprang to his eyes.

Jacob vacillated between wanting to apologize to Gremul and wanting to throw something—anything—at Azuriah. He opted for the apology, which he gave, then spun to the Shiengol. “I told you!”

“You’re going to have to learn to be more sensitive. Obviously, you don’t have complete control over your powers.”

Jacob scowled. “Whatever. This was my very first ability—I think I’ve mastered it by now, thank you.”

“Watch your pride, boy,” Azuriah said. “You’re not perfect, and your ability to use your powers is far from it.” He looked at the Makalo. “Give him your other hand.”

“No!” Jacob said before Gremul could do anything. “He has to be able to function, and he can’t if both hands are burned. I’ll try it on someone else, not him.”

“Fine. Go get another person.”

Jacob turned and stormed from the fortress, leading Gremul through the building. When they’d exited, Jacob turned to the Makalo. “Let me see what I did to you.”

Gremul frowned and showed Jacob his palm. Blisters had sprung up all over the surface.

“I’m very sorry,” Jacob said again. “Azuriah can be a jerk. He’s so bossy.”

“Yes, well, unfortunately, now I’ll have to slow down my workload. With the Kaede Sap shortage, this will take days to heal.”

Jacob nodded, recognizing that the Makalo had reasons to be grouchy. “If it makes a difference, I didn’t know Azuriah was going to make me do any of that.”

Gremul sighed. “I know. That Shiengol . . .”

Judging by the colors swirling through the air around the Makalo’s face, Jacob could tell he’d been about to say something not very kind. But true to Makalo nature, he stopped himself.

“You should ask for volunteers. If they know what it’s for, they’ll be more likely to help.”

Jacob nodded. “Thanks. I’ll do that.”

He turned around, deciding he needed to let Azuriah know he might not be back right away. He knocked on the Shiengol’s door and explained what Gremul suggested.

Azuriah clasped his hands and tapped his lips. “Yes. Do it. But make sure they know we need those volunteers today. As soon as possible.” He paused. “Oh, and tell Aldo to start making more contacts—we’ll want them for you and those who Travel with you.”

Jacob stopped by Aldo’s cabin and relayed the message, then hurried to Kenji’s place. He figured the Makalo would best know how to ask for volunteers. Kenji opened, fully decked out in green clothing—the color of mourning for Makalos—and let Jacob enter.

“How are the training sessions with Azuriah going? Aldo mentioned he was close to finishing the contacts.”

Jacob sat at the table with Kenji. “He finished them this morning—they’re perfect. And about the training . . . okay, I guess. But Azuriah wants me to find volunteers. He’s positive I’ll be able to take people back with me when I Travel.”

Kenji raised an eyebrow. “Interesting theory.” He sighed. “Finding volunteers shouldn’t be difficult. What will they need to do?”

Jacob hesitated. “Well . . . you know how I can sense weakness in things and heat them up? I’ve gotten to the point where I can pretty much heat up any surface—even things that are already strong, though I still can’t change the shape of those things. Anyway, Azuriah thinks I should be able to heat up the person’s hand and take them back with me that way.”

“That sounds potentially painful.”

“Exactly. I’ve already burned one Makalo this morning—Gremul. I feel bad. He suggested I get volunteers, and Azuriah says we need them as soon as possible.”

Kenji nodded. “I’ll send word around by Minya and have everyone meet at Azuriah’s fortress.”

“Um . . . you might want to have them meet by Aldo’s new place instead. Azuriah’s in a bad mood today, and he’d get ticked off if they were waiting outside his door.”

A smile briefly crossed Kenji’s face before disappearing. “I’m sorry to say this, but I’m glad it’s you who, uh,
gets
. . . to work with him, and not me.”

Jacob rolled his eyes. “Gee, thanks.”

Sweet Pea was just about to knock when Jacob opened the door to leave. His face lit up.

“Hey! Haven’t seen you around for a few days. Wanna come with me? It’s my turn to check the trees and I was going to see if Akeno wanted to do it, but you’re right here so I’ll ask you instead.”

Jacob chuckled at Sweet Pea’s long explanation. “Sure!” He followed Sweet Pea to the ledge. Even though the Makalo wore green clothing, the colors swirling through the air around him showed he was pretty chipper. Jacob wondered how long Sweet Pea had mourned. Or maybe he went through phases of mourning.

A Minya flitted up to the Makalo and told him about Jacob’s need for volunteers. She started explaining the possible dangers, but Sweet Pea interrupted.

“Tell Kenji I’m all over it!”

Jacob frowned. “Even if you’re going to get your hand burned?”

Sweet Pea shrugged. “Don’t matter. They’re pretty calloused anyway from working in the garden so much this year.”

The Minya left, and Jacob climbed down the ledge and followed Sweet Pea through the meadow. They entered the forest.

“Can I ask a question?” Jacob said. “Who’s going to be the next patriarch? And is it going to be a guy? And how will he be elected?”

Sweet Pea laughed. “That’s not one question.” He led them off the path and deeper into the forest. “First, we don’t know who the next one will be. They’ve decided to put it off for a while. I don’t know all the particulars, but with everything going on, the counsel that takes over directing things—headed up by Kenji, by the way—has decided that’s the best thing right now.”

Jacob frowned. “Wouldn’t getting one fast be better? That way they’d be able to figure things out more quickly.”

Sweet Pea shrugged. “Honestly, I don’t know. Makalos don’t like making decisions in the midst of a lot of emotions. And with the trees, Lorkon problems, and even having Azuriah around, things are really emotional.” He glanced at Jacob. “Azuriah is great and all, but he can be really demanding.”

“Tell me about it.”

Sweet Pea paused in front of a tree and pulled a branch closer. “Look around for bugs. When they’re still stopped by the poison, they’re mostly pink in color. If they’re turning back to bright red, the potion is wearing off. We check them three times a day.”

Jacob picked the tree next to Sweet Pea and started inspecting branches. He cringed every time he saw one of the bugs—they were so disgusting! But at least they were still pink and moving very slowly.

Sweet Pea continued talking while they inspected. “To answer your next question, the patriarch is always male, since that’s what ‘patriarch’ means. If it were a girl, she’d be a matriarch. So far, no female has wanted to lead permanently, though there have been several times when one had to step up and do it temporarily.”

“Does a patriarch need to be a certain age?”

“Generally over forty. Again, that’s not a hard rule, and there have been exceptions.”

They’d both checked more than three trees each and Sweet Pea stepped back, hands on his hips, surveying the forest. “Everything looks good. The bugs aren’t getting over the poison just yet.”

He started back toward the trail. “To continue answering your questions, the last patriarch usually chooses the next one before he dies. If he passes away before that can happen, like Brojan did, all the Makalos over the age of forty get together and vote anonymously on who will be the next leader.”

“In my country, you vote when you turn eighteen.”

Sweet Pea snorted. “Eighteen? I’ve never met a human that young who had enough experience with life.”

Jacob laughed. “How many have you met?”

“Not many.” Sweet Pea paused. “Okay, so, none.” He rushed on, “But I stand by what I said—they couldn’t possibly be experienced enough.”

Jacob shrugged. “I don’t really care either way—I’ve still got a long way to go until I can vote.” He glanced at Sweet Pea. “You can’t vote. Does that bother you?”

“Nah. Things are set up for a reason—they’ve always worked this way.”

Jacob didn’t respond for a moment. He wondered if the Makalo civilization would ever change. By their nature, humans created change, but Makalos were very different. “When do you think the next patriarch will be chosen?”

“In a couple of weeks, probably. I agree with you—they can’t put it off for too long. But I’m positive it’ll be Kenji—everyone already listens to him, sometimes more than they did Brojan. He’s really good and really experienced.”

Jacob nodded. Kenji would be a great choice.

Not long after they left the trees, they arrived at Aldo’s house. Jacob was surprised—only a few Makalos had come, but two Wurbies and several humans showed up to act as volunteers. His throat felt thick and his heart raced as he thought of their willingness to help even knowing it would hurt.

“Wow,” he said. “Thank you all so much. I hope I figure things out fast so as few of you as possible get burned.”

One of the humans, a man with blond hair and a red beard, nodded. “Your Highness, we’re ready and willing to do anything needed to remove the Lorkon from the throne and put your father back on it.”

Several of the other humans murmured their agreement. Jacob took a quick count—four women, seven men. He swallowed, realizing he was about to get over his distaste for holding hands with guys.

“All right. Well, you can come one at a time to Azuriah’s fortress.” He stuffed his fists in his jacket pockets. “Who wants to go first?”

Chapter Nine: Hand Warming

A woman stepped forward. No one else did, and Jacob wondered if they’d already arranged their order. He motioned for her to follow him, but as soon as their eyes met, she stumbled. Her mouth popped open and her blue eyes widened. The colors for shock flowed through the air around her and she stared at Jacob, making him shuffle his feet. What was her deal?

He decided to ignore her strange behavior and started toward the fortress. She stayed a full step behind him. If he slowed down, she slowed down too. It took him a moment to realize she was doing it out of respect—all of it. The oddness, everything. That made him feel weird, and he didn’t know what to say as they walked. Several thoughts flew through his mind, but none of them felt like something a prince would talk about, so he kept his mouth closed. Maybe he should ask her name. Would that be appropriate? He shrugged to himself, deciding to do it anyway.

“What’s your name?”

“H—Huh . . .” She seemed to be struggling. Finally she blurted out, “Liana,” and tucked a strand of hair into the bright red piece of cloth that covered her head.

The woman didn’t say anything else, and by then, they’d arrived at the fortress. Azuriah showed them in and Jacob explained to Liana what he was about to do.

“I’m really sorry—it’s going to hurt, I know it will. And I hate doing that—”

“
Enough
already,” Azuriah said. “You’re embarrassing yourself, and she already understands the dangers.”

Jacob flushed. Azuriah was right, and a prince wouldn’t apologize over and over again as he’d been about to do. He took Liana’s hand, cleared his mind, and concentrated on warming her flesh as slowly as he could.

Just like with Gremul, she jerked away faster than he’d actually been able to warm. Unlike the Makalo, though, she didn’t hesitate in giving Jacob her other hand, and regardless of what Jacob said, she insisted he practice again.

This time, he pictured warming her palm up in fractions of degrees, starting with seventy-five. Again, it heated up way too fast, but she didn’t jerk away as roughly.

She curtsied, being careful not to touch anything with her injured hands. “I’ll send the next person.”

Apparently, the humans had decided to go before the Makalos and Wurbies, since Jacob went through all the humans before starting on the magical creatures.

Two hours later, Jacob had improved, but hadn’t been successful. It felt like something still needed to click, a connection that needed to be made. He rubbed his face, exhausted, but glad that people were now leaving with first-degree burns instead of second.

By this time, Aloren and Kevin had arrived from school and had set up a little care facility just outside of the fortress, where they helped clean and bandage wounded hands while continuing English studies with the others.

Jacob started on the Makalos. He insisted on practicing with only their right hands, not wanting to harm the hands that carried the most magic.