The Regenerates (5 page)

Suddenly, his eyes fell on the lone wooden box in the corner. On impulse, he pushed the box out of the way and his eyes widened. Hidden underneath it was a pitch-black hole. Ven couldn’t make out what was at the bottom, or if it even had a bottom. Was this where they were going to make their escape? It did look big enough for a person to fit through. He decided all he could do now was trust Markis.

Ven climbed up out of the cellar, closed the door behind him and hid, waiting for the others. The next several minutes were the most crucial. After this, everything would go back to normal. That is, other than Coralie’s absence. As he lay there, he suddenly remembered his mother. If she had gone inside the palace looking for him, it at least meant that she was safe.

Several minutes later, just as Ven was beginning to grow frantic with worry that their plan had failed, he began to hear footsteps around the corner. He crouched low, remaining out of sight until he saw who the footsteps belonged to. He held his breath. Markis appeared, closely followed by…

Coralie was behind him, huddled in between her parents. A stupendous wave of relief washed over Ven as he leaped out from his hiding spot. Coralie took one look at him and began to laugh, her tired, frightened face beaming with joy. She flung her arms around him. Coralie’s parents embraced him as well.

“Thank you,” Mrs. Hasset said. Her voice was shaking.

Mr. Hasset squeezed Ven’s shoulder. “You’re like a son to us, you know that? We owe our lives to you, Ven.”

There was nothing more Ven needed to hear. His throat tightened. But their moment was to be short-lived. The other Sentenced had arrived, looking terrified and confused.

Markis led them to the underground tunnel. “We need to get going.”

Coralie let go of Ven and sniffled. “I’ll see you soon, I know it. And…thank you, Ven.”

“Yeah,” he said. “Be safe.”

While he had a broad smile on his face, part of him ached. He would never get to hide out in her house anymore, or walk around Market Plaza with her, sampling fruit. But Ven knew it was for the best. Besides, this was definitely not goodbye.

Coralie took her parents’ hands and climbed into the crawlspace, down the hole and out of sight. One after another, the other Sentenced followed until there was no one left but Ven and Markis.

“Thank you. Thank you so–”

“There’s been a change of plan, Ven,” Markis interrupted. He wore a bizarre expression, a mixture of fear and urgency.

“Why, what’s wrong?”

“We need to go back to Stratum Square. Both of us.”

“But wait, you said that that I had to sneak around so I wouldn’t be seen,” said Ven, perplexed.

As though out of nowhere, the monstrous creature that had terrorized the square appeared behind Ven. He had no time to react. The creature picked him up like he was a twig, and began to make its way back to the crowd at Stratum Square.

“Markis, what’s going on? Tell it to let go of me! Markis!” he yelled. But Markis said nothing, and the beast strode in massive steps towards the chaos of the crowd ahead. Ven began to panic. If he went that way, everyone would see him. He had no doubt Kayn would suspect him immediately, and once he did it was over. They had to have noticed by now that all of the Sentenced had vanished, included Coralie.

Ven began to struggle, trying to pull at the massive fingers that had a death grip on him. It was no use. He looked toward the ground for Markis, who was nowhere to be seen.

They were getting nearer and nearer to Stratum Square. At this height, Ven could make out an army of soldiers trying to calm down the crowd and others investigating the row of nooses, which had been ripped to shreds and lay in a pile of demolished wood. The only person Ven didn’t want to see happened to be the first one to notice the gigantic creature returning to the square.

Kayn was looking up and pointing, signaling the soldiers to aim their weapons straight in the creature’s direction. He had taken a beating. His clothes were torn and his face was scratched. He had a brass javelin in one hand and a blaster in the other, ready for battle.

Ven struggled harder than ever. There was no way he was going to get caught, not after how far he had gotten. Where was Markis?

“LET GO!” Ven screamed, but the beast did nothing. “Please, I can’t let them see me! You have to take me back! I’m a friend of Markis!”

It was too late. The people in the square were pointing at more than just the beast. Their attention had turned to the boy the creature was holding. Kayn looked upwards, and his eyes locked onto Ven’s. Ven could do nothing but stare hopelessly back. As realization dawned on him, a murderous fury erupted on Kayn’s face. Ven’s heart sank. It was over. Without warning, the creature flung Ven to the ground, where he landed with a painful crunch on to the elevated platform, knocking the wind out of him. He gasped in pain.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Kayn bounding towards him at top speed.
No, I was so close. Why is this happening?

Kayn was barely three feet away when Markis appeared. Ven looked up at him. “Markis, it’s over…”

“I had a feeling it was you,” Kayn seethed, staring down at Ven, “but I never thought you’d conspire with a criminal. I warned you what would happen if you chose the wrong company. It’s the end for both you and your mother–”

But Kayn never had the chance to complete his threat. His eyes widened in horror as he saw the object in Markis’ hand. The Magistrate’s Dagger glistened, blood-red and menacing.

The crowd stood in stunned silence.

“How did you get that?” Kayn whispered. “There’s no way someone like you could have found that.” He froze and turned to Ven, the fear turning to loathing. “I’m going to kill you.”

Ven fought the pain in his ribs and tried to stand. Markis reached down and pulled him to his feet in one quick movement. Before Ven could mutter his thanks, Markis drew back the Magistrate’s Dagger and drove it into Ven’s stomach.

Screams erupted from the crowd, and one of them had to have been his own. White-hot pain began to spread around his abdomen. He blinked, his vision beginning to blur.

One scream, however, pierced Ven harder than even the blade. His mother had pushed her way to the front of the crowd. Hans and Florentine were on either side of her, steadying her. Florentine burst into tears and clamped her hand to her mouth.

Ven could feel a warm, moist sensation at the base of his stomach. Markis reached forward and whispered in his ear. “What I said back at the prison, it wasn’t a lie. Your sacrifice has saved Cor from calamity.”

If Markis said anything more, Ven didn’t hear it. The last thing he saw was Markis attacking Kayn, and Kayn collapsing to the ground as the crowd closed in on them.

“I
t would seem as though we have quite the scenario on our hands, my friends.”

The Coran elder touched his graying palms together, a concerned look on his withered face.

“How is Kayn at the moment?”

“He is stable, for the time being, though still unconscious.”

“And the boy?”

“His situation is unclear at this point. If he survives, he will have a permanent scar. The dagger contains a sacred and dangerous power. It is unknown what the long-term side affects will be.”

“How pathetic. It would seem Kayn has failed his test. What does this mean? Naturally, he is not fit to be Grand Magistrate if he managed to let a civilian steal it and taint the blade with his filthy, foreign blood.”

“So what are you suggesting? We allow Klaus to rule Cor in his place? We all know that that glutton is the farthest thing from a ruler.”

“Nevertheless, Russell Stafford himself entrusted Kayn with this task. It was his dying wish that the Magistrate’s Dagger be passed on to his youngest son and kept safe until the day of Kayn’s coronation. Such a shame. And after Russell gave his son so much love…”

“Perhaps the incompetent one here is not Klaus, but Kayn himself. The dagger was entrusted to him, so he must make amends, somehow.”

“What of the man?” another elder asked. “And the beast he brought with him?”

“Gone. Disappeared. As for the beast itself, I suppose it couldn’t survive without its master. It shriveled up and vanished.”

“How could he have known where the Magistrate’s Dagger was located? Not just that, he knew the symbol used to unlock the compartment. The only ones who know that symbol are we, the elders, and Kayn. Not even the people know it.”

The first elder smiled. “Quite the crafty one, our mysterious friend. I’m assuming he used the boy to steal it for him. No one would suspect a Highborn.”

“The boy is a Highborn?”

“His name is Ven Kealy,” read a second elder, scrolling down a medical report. “He’s Rosa Kealy’s son.”

“Who’s the father?”

“Died of illness several years ago. We found something interesting, however. The boy used to live in the Prentice Quadrant before his father died.”

“That’s impossible. The Stratum Order is a hierarchical system. You cannot move up the hierarchy. It is based on birth.”

“Oh, he is definitely a Highborn. His father was an army general for Kayn’s father, back in the day.”

“Then was Rosa originally a Prentice?”

“No, she has always been registered as a Highborn, along with her husband. Our data reports say that before their son was born, Gareth Kealy and his wife had a cottage close to the palace. Gareth had just been made army general. A close friend of his framed him for treason and murder, saying he had conned his way into the position so he could become a Highborn when he was actually a Prentice. After some investigation, officials were forced to send him and his wife to the Prentice Quadrant. They couldn’t kill him because his service had been exemplary. After the investigation had reopened, however, they found the friend guilty of fraud and conspiracy. He was sentenced and then executed. By then, however, Gareth had died. His wife and young son were allowed to move into the palace and his wife was given the position of Council Member.”

The elders remained silent for a moment.

“Where is Rosa now?”

“She has to be kept away from the infirmary until we can interrogate her son, which can only happen once he awakens. Even then, his situation looks grim. He has broken a dozen Coran laws.”

“What about the Sentenced? Do we have an update on their location?”

“No. Nor do we know how they escaped. Let’s not concern ourselves with them. They won’t survive for long out there, anyway. They are practically homeless now. Let nature pass its judgment.”

“You are all forgetting the bigger problem at hand,” said one of the elders. “The Magistrate’s Dagger, our sacred protection, has been reduced to a fancy pocketknife and Russell Stafford’s dying wish has been wasted. He would be rolling in his grave if he could see us now. We cannot allow this to go unpunished. I said it from the start, Kayn is too young to rule. What was Russell Stafford thinking, entrusting him with such a task?”

The elders began to murmur amongst themselves. The first elder motioned for everyone to be silent.

“Do not lose hope so quickly, my friends,” he said. “Have you all forgotten the history we have been forced to study for so many decades? We may yet have a potential solution.”

“And what would that be, Gant?”

“Would any of you like to enlighten us on the story of Lord Roth and his tomb?”

“Gant, you can’t possibly be suggesting–”

“No, he’s correct,” one elder interrupted. “That’s brilliant, Gant. Thank you for reminding us why you lead this council of elders.”

“Will someone explain to me what is going on here?”

Gant chuckled.

“During the time when rumors of black magic surrounded Lord Roth, he secretly requested to be exorcised by five celebrants before his death, to be rid of his frightening visions forever. During the exorcism, which took place in Roth’s soon-to-be tomb, Roth was made to bathe in a sacred pool, around which his tomb was built. The dagger was given to Roth by the celebrants as a means of protection, imbued with extreme power from being soaked in the sacred liquid. As long as the dagger was kept safe, the visions and spirits that plagued Roth would not be able to harm any of the future Grand Magistrates.”

“You’re suggesting we send Kayn to Roth’s tomb to purify the dagger?"

“Precisely.”

Whispers could be heard throughout the council.

“This has worked out rather nicely for you, hasn’t it Gant?” One of the elders smiled and smoothened out his deep purple satin robes. “How long have you been trying to get rid of Kayn, since the day he and Klaus were old enough to walk? Now you’ve been given a chance to send him packing without having him killed.”

“Now, now, let’s not jinx our good luck.” There was a glow on the head elder’s face. “There’s
technically
nothing wrong with sending Kayn away. We’ll tell the Quadrants that Kayn’s carelessness has put Cor in danger. No one will question it.”

“But what about the sacred protection from the dagger? We really have been left vulnerable, Gant. Besides, what will we tell the Quadrants about it?”

“We’re only in danger if the outside comes to know about it. I do respect the dagger’s power, but I also respect our military. Don’t forget, in controlling the Stafford bloodline, we are trying to transform Cor into a nation far more powerful than it is now. We may not even need it, if we are successful. We’ll be fine. What the media doesn’t know won’t hurt them, and the Quadrants won’t dare open their mouths. As for what to tell the Quadrants, there is little even they know about what the Magistrate’s Dagger really looks like. In the worst case, we use a duplicate and say it was reclaimed successfully. With regards to Kayn, we don’t need to worry too much if he returns alive. While it would be nice if something out there killed him, the only thing we need is time. This way, Kayn’s coronation is delayed, and time is exactly what we get.”

“How does this work, then? Does Kayn make the journey alone?”

“No. Let’s have someone accompany him.”

“Who? An incognito guard team?”

“Kayn will be crossing enemy territory to get to Hygon Pass, where the tomb is located. The terrain has changed since Roth’s time. A group of people like that will arouse suspicion. Make the boy go with him.”