The Knight Read online

  “I apologize, Prince Shadrict. Of course, I should not joke at a time like this.”

  “I know that you find me naive. I understand I have only just matured in the last moon cycle; however, I know what I know.” He looked around at the forest where we stood as if he were taking inventory. The trees were the typical brown-barked and green-leaved kind. The sky was the normal blue of most habitable planets' atmospheres, with human life on them. Where were we? I wondered.

  “And you believe in songs?” I asked, sitting down on a boulder. It seemed that we were not leaving anytime soon, although having that conversation with prince Shadrict, when Lamont was yet to be found, was the last thing that I wanted to do. But, there we were.

  “Of course,” He said, pulling a leaf off of a small plant beside him. I watched as he lifted the leaf to his lips, and then to his nose to smell it. “I believe we are on Earth,” he said, standing up.

  “Uh, how do you—that is to say—Earth? I find that impossible. No one has traveled to Earth since the ancients banned it—”

  “That we are aware of. Please know, Rykerian, that the world we have just left had many secrets, secrets that even the Dallard family line doesn’t know about. I believe that the real connection that Terra has to Earth is one of these secrets.” His thoughts lingered, and I listened to his melody as he tried to memorize the way the cave looked, the cracks in the rocks, the trees, and the plant life nearby. What was he, some kind of scientist? I was surprised that he didn’t take specimens to study with all the attention he was giving to our surroundings.

  “I agree, but unfortunately, the first kingdom has become corrupt,” I added to his assessment.

  “Yes, that was confirmed for me when I was locked in the Dungeons of the Mist,” Shad said with a smirk.

  How was it that he could cause me to feel like I was the one who had just matured? I felt like a child, but he was the one who was spouting off fairytales and being his annoyingly calm self.

  “I would suggest not sharing too many of those feelings, Rykerian.” He raised his eyebrows as he gazed at the cave one last time and turned around. Oops, I had forgotten to shield those thoughts.

  Seriously, he made me feel like a schoolboy being caught doing something I wasn't supposed to do. Royalty, that must be it. I switched my thought patterns to other things so that I would not insult his royal highness. I watched as he walked a few paces; then he froze.

  “Everything alright, prince?” I asked, standing up and preparing myself for a battle. The look of intensity was in his gaze. I looked behind me, but all I saw was the cave.

  “Everything will be alright, knight.” I watched as he closed his eyes and looked one last time at the cave’s entrance; then he turned around.

  “WILL YOU TELL HER AUNT?” Glasson asked me.

  I shook my head of the memory, trying to forget about the annoying threat that prince Shadrict had brought to Emma. Out of all of the threats I knew about, he was the least of my worries, even though he annoyed me.

  “I told her already. I don’t keep secrets from Mary."

  I watched him as he nodded.

  “Good. So where are you going, and when will you be back?”

  “Just a month or two. I need to get information from the police and then go back to the scene of the crash and figure out how to track down the person who did this.”

  “Do you have a tracker?”

  “No, but I have some skills in it.”

  Glasson nodded, and I knew it was not the way things would happen on Terra. I knew that going on a mission and leaving my ancient heir unprotected was a horrible thing to do, but I needed to do it. I had to do it—to keep her safe.

  “I will do my best, Ryker.” He placed a hand on his heart, then moved it to his eye. I met him in the middle, and we saluted. He nodded and walked back down the sidewalk. I leaned against the car. I had already said my goodbyes to Emma, so I was free to go. But as I looked back at the house next door to mine, I thought about Emma, and about how sad I was to leave her, and—about what it might feel like to kiss her goodbye.

  Chapter 7

  “YOU ARE COMING BACK? Does this mean that you found him?” Mary asked me.

  “I have some information,” I spoke into the phone as I stared at the hotel room ceiling. The past month had been a nightmare: being away, coming up nearly empty-handed, until I came into contact with the Terran group that I had been searching for.

  It was quite strange how after the first few days in the hospital, I had to basically force the cops to allow Emma to describe the man who was with her that night, so that a sketch artist could draw his image. Good thing I did, as it was all I had to go off of in my search.

  The Terran group had been much larger than I thought it would be. Glasson had been contacting them for years. Glasson, of course, had many contacts with many Terran colonies. There was an entire system, which he had set up, for Terrans to communicate with each other and to find those Terrans that others were looking for.

  It was a small town, as the population sign indicated. It was made up of a couple thousand, but when that number was entirely other-planet humans? It was a very powerful town, and in some ways, very dangerous. I drove to the heart of the town, down an old worn road. I worried that if I went into another pothole, I would pop a tire on my borrowed car. Luckily, the main town area was better maintained. I could not help but wonder if the rough road was kept in such a condition to ward off people. Subtle, but effective for some travelers, I am sure. I drove down the quiet streets of the town. The buildings looked like they had been there for quite a while, as if frozen in time back in the 1950’s, but they were well maintained. Nothing seemed Terran at all, but one thing stood out above everything else, I realized, as I parked near the post office: the melodies. They were so calming, as they swarmed around me, that I closed my eyes at their sounds. It had been so long, too long, since I had heard so many of my people together. It was more than beautiful; it was breathtaking, and I found myself lost in it for a moment.

  “Can I help you, sir?” someone asked, and I opened my eyes. I saw a man before me, with dark brown eyes and white hair. He looked old, about seventy or so in Earth years, but for a Terran, he could be anywhere from seventy to over two-hundred years, or cycles, old for all I knew.

  “Yes, I’m looking for the leader of your colony.” He stood up taller, and I took a moment to unguard my soul just enough to show him who I was. I watched as he bowed his head in the customary way that a commoner would honor a guardian knight of my rank.

  “We are honored to have you here, Rykerian Dallard.” My name was known far and wide, not only because I was guardian knight to a future king, but because for as long as the ancients had blessed our land, my family name, the Dallard family name, was known for our honor and diligence.

  “I need help. It seems that someone is trying to injure the person I am protecting. Have you heard anything about any of Prince Tarick’s men from the first kingdom living here on Earth?”

  “I wouldn't know, knight; however, I can find the boss for you.”

  “The boss?”

  “We found it easier when Earthlings come by to have Earthling terms. The boss is a knight, also.” I nodded and followed him as he showed me to a large business building. I waited for a few moments in a lobby of sorts before someone came into the room. His melody wasn't pure. I took note of the black, corrupt parts of it before he shielded them from me. I will have to keep my guard up with him, I thought.

  “A Dallard?” he asked, as I stood. I nodded, and he and I bowed in the pattern of proper respect of our people, and for my family. I could not read him, couldn't sense his melody, so I did not know from where he hailed.

  “It’s great to meet you—I’m in search of information.”

  “Yes, this is what Thomas said.” He cleared his throat and walked with me into a room, no doubt some kind of office for an important person at one point. He motioned for me to sit, and I did, in a leather back chair i
n front of a massive wooden desk. He quickly moved around the desk to sit behind it. The room had papers and folders spread across the floor, as if they were laid out in haste.

  “Yes, sorry for the mess,” he cleared his throat. “I am Rian. We would be glad to help you. What do you seek?”

  “I’m looking for someone. Have you noticed any soulless in the general area—or have you heard of any?” It was my gut feeling that the man from the sketch was soulless. The sketch, in my opinion, though in black and white, showed proof of it; he had soulless, black eyes. I imagined that the idea of the culprit being a soulless would bring me some peace—but why, I thought, was a soulless doing such things? And why was he still alive? Everyone knew that you could not live long without a soul.

  “There is one man who comes through here to recruit people to work for his mining company. He has been through here three times now, and each time, he can't tell us what happened to his old recruits—he says it’s confidential.” He held his hands in front of him on his desk, and I noticed the injuries to his knuckles, small bruises, and scabs. “He always promises us that all who go with him will have their identities protected. Some of our people really want that—after being banished here to Earth.” He took a drink from a glass cup on his desk. It was then when I noticed that the walls of the room were stocked high and low with books—books not only on every single shelf, but also covering large spaces on the floor. Rian looked up at me, his brown eyes heavy with worry, it seemed. His scruffy beard barely covering his jaw and chin, his thick brown hair fell over his forehead, and he moved it aside.

  “I spoke with him directly the last time he was here. I always thought he was human, but he said something to me that made me think that he might be a soulless, but it astounds me how he could be one when he has survived for so long.”

  “Who is he?”

  “I don't have a name. I only know that he isn't welcome here anymore.” I watched as he cracked his knuckles. I looked again at his bruised hands.

  I dug through my bag and looked for the sketch. Other than that one cop, Emma was the only other person to have seen him. I found the picture and held it up.

  “This him?” I asked, staring into his eyes and listening to his melody, trying to pick up on any lies that he might try to shield.

  “That's him alright,” he nodded and looked down at his glass cup.

  I nodded back, and I silently congratulated myself and put the paper back into my bag, getting ready to ask my next question. “Do you happen to have a seeker's crystal?”

  THE CONVERSATION WASN’T fruitless, but they didn’t have a crystal. I said my goodbyes and thanks and drove back to the hotel room. I wish I had been able to get more information, but what I got was solid intel.

  As soon as I walked into my hotel room, my phone buzzed in my pocket. I shut the hotel door and sat on the bed; then I answered the call. Mary got right to her point as soon as I said, “hello.”

  “Shadrict is here. As far as I have seen, he has stayed away from Emma, but his melody is strong, Ryker.” I heard Mary’s concerned voice, and it pulled me away from my deep thoughts about the Terran colony I had just visited.

  I cursed. “Mary how long has he been there?”

  “He moved in, literally across the street, three weeks ago.”

  “And you are just now telling me this?” I growled as I shoved my clothing and other useless items into my carry-on bag. I needed to leave, and I needed to leave right away.

  “It is hard to get in touch with you in order to tell you anything, Ryker. Calm down. Shad’s melody—it’s so powerful; it reminds me of Emma’s.”

  I felt sick, “What do I care about his melody?”

  “He just—he doesn’t seem like the horrible prince that you've made him out to be, and how could he be that bad when his melody is so strong? I don’t think he shields any part of it. There’s no corruption at all in his melody.”

  I rolled my eyes. Of course, his melody would be perfect. “He’s horrible. Do you know how many people rave and talk about him on Terra? He’s like the most well-known heir, and it was only because of his soul,” I answered, thinking to myself that he was horrible because he wanted Emma for himself, because he wanted to create some fairytale life with her. He was also horrible because he irritated me by simply breathing.

  “Well, that’s what happens on Terra. I don’t know why that would surprise me. That is why people could come for Emma’s soul if it is left unshielded. You need to unshield your soul, Ryker. Emma is very drawn to him, and I see why. It’s not just his melody being strong. She is much happier since he has been around, and her melody—the corruption, it’s—it’s gone.” She paused for a moment. “When was the last time you unshielded your soul entirely? Let it be free?”

  “Mary, I cannot. You know why. Please, just stop. I am not able to break my vows. I will unshield it when the time is right, just as Lamont required of me.” I threw a shirt at my bag and walked away from the foot of the bed to lean against the wall. “I have to keep her safe, Mary, safe from any and all threats. I can’t have a target on us both. I have to focus only on her. If I let my melody out, I would be signaling who-knows-who to come for us. There are many Terrans who hate my family. Not all Terrans who are on Earth were banished here for illegitimate reasons.” The phone felt heavy in my hands as I spoke. I gripped it so hard that my hand shook slightly.

  “I know, Ryker."

  I moved my face from against the wall and looked at the room around me. I wanted to unshield my soul. It was a lot of work to keep one's soul shielded. Mine was no exception. I thought of what would happen if I did, and quickly decided that it wasn't a good thing to focus on. It would tempt me too much. I thought about Shad’s melody and then Emma’s. If the prophecy was true, then Emma would be more like her real self than ever before, simply because Shad was just across the street. I hated that thought—so very, very much.

  “Prince Shadrict cannot know.”

  “Cannot know what?”

  “He cannot know who Emma is.”

  “She has a melody, Ryker. What else would he assume? Do you think he will believe that she is something other than Terran?”

  “Please, Mary. He just can’t know about Lamont, about her being the princess. Let him suspect all he wants, but I want it to remain a secret that Emma is an heir. He believes in songs, for ancient’s sakes—actual songs, Mary, so he may even believe that she could be an actual earthling. I wouldn't put it past him to believe in the impossible. He already does.”

  “I don't know why you don't believe in songs. All our people were built around them. We are from them.”

  “Yes, and then the ancients took them away.”

  “Rykerian, we don't know that, and if that was the case, maybe they are now coming back.”

  She sounded so hopeful, and I didn’t have it in me to crush her. I knew it was a fairytale, a dream, not real, but I didn’t need to convince her of that. She had to already know. I must have been silent for too long because she spoke again, changing the subject,

  “I haven’t spoken to him, and I don’t plan on it.”

  “Good, I just need time.”

  “Come home, Ryker. Emma is doing better, but she still needs you. You are her best friend.”

  “I will. I just packed my bags. I will book my flight tonight.”

  "Good."

  MY FLIGHT LANDED IN Sacramento late that night. I texted Mary that I was back and threw my carry on bag in the backseat of my car. I opened the door and sat down inside. Frustration flooded through me. I was back, and although I wasn't completely empty-handed, I didn't feel that much closer to figuring things out. I started the engine as my phone chimed a new message from Mary, confirming that she received mine.

  I missed everything—how easy things used to be. I missed Terra. I missed Lamont and Ara. I even missed the simple way things were before Emma’s melody was unleashed. She had become so much more difficult to keep safe because Mary and I had to wor
k so hard to shield her soul, something we were barely able to do. I missed the cool water of the first kingdom’s beaches, the sand, the bright sky, the things found on the seashore. I banged my head against my headrest as feelings and emotions ran through me. Memories blasted through my brain at laser speed, and I tried to reign them in. Those memories were always in that box, tucked away in my mind, the box with cobwebs and dust on the outside. I never touched that box—not anymore—not for over sixteen years.

  Grey eyes haunted me as I sat there. I closed my eyes and tried to pull the memories back inside the box where they belonged so that they could not haunt me anymore. They slipped out anyway, and I saw in my mind, that still body and that dark, black-brown hair. They were the first things I had noticed, on that bright day. I was worried. No melody—it was a sign of death. But when I came up closer, my feet moving slowly on the clear pebbled sand, I watched as those eyes opened, revealing clear, silver-grey eyes, not the eyes of a soulless. Life flashed before me; I stood frozen.

  I tugged at my hair, begging myself to stop reflecting, begging myself to end the pain. The drive home was torture as I fought the inward battle, raging a war inside of me. The memories I had locked up sixteen years before tried to float onto center stage in my mind, over and over, but I pulled them back—shoved them in the once-beloved box and locked it tight. I needed to focus. I knew my task; I knew my vows and promises, and I would not break them. I did not want to break them, no matter what was inside the blasted box.

  Chapter 8

  I FLOATED JUST ABOVE the surface of the water in the pool. I had been able to sense her while unpacking my bags and knew she was about to head to the pool, so I grabbed my swim trunks and ran to her yard. I needed to see her, and although I needed rest and a shower, I needed her more. I had slipped into the pool just as she opened the sliding glass door. She was wearing her white and green bathing suit. I tried to keep my mind from wandering, from focusing on the curves of her figure and her cascading hair. It wasn't honorable to be so focused on her looks. She was safe, she was alive, and she was breathing, and I had done my job. It felt wonderful for a moment to know that she lived and breathed. I still could succeed in my duty, to her, at least.