Page 126 of Alien Prince's Fake Bride
“It appears that the Tentacle Throne took hold of Umbra’s body somehow and had her say things that it can’t say itself. I assume this happened through some Syntric connection. There were three distinct statements in the general form of prophecies or an oracle’s predictions, The language was an archaic form of pre-Imperial Khavgrese. It appears the first statement was a prediction or prophesy of alien enemies coming to Khav. There’s mention of serpents, fire, and darkness. These were common terms for describing aliens in the old days, when alien species were held to be dangerous.”
“Could it mean the Phrexz?” Umbra asks. “Their army, maybe?”
“That’s definitely one possibility. The second statement appears to concern an enemy that’s closer to you, perhaps even inside the palace. The words, like plague, blacken and so on, are typical of such descriptions in the ancient histories and records.”
“‘A foe found within the very gates’,” I ponder. “Can’t this describe the Phrexz that took the place of my mother?”
“It could,”Bellatriz says cheerfully. “The grammar and the words are consistent with a prediction of something that is to happen in the future. But it could be that this is the Throne’s way of making sense of recent events and not a prediction at all.”
“The Throne may have been badly traumatized by the Phrexz sitting on it and sending destructive Syntrix to the legions,” Umbra suggests. “It may just have needed to vent in the only way it knew how.”
“That sounds possible,” I reluctantly agree. The visions the Throne showed me were definitely not things that have happened. “The first enemy mentioned could be the Vyrpy. The second could be the Phrexz. And the third statement is clearly about a friend coming to the rescue. Surely that means you, Umbra. ‘A rift hidden from all’ could be Earth, stuck behind that Syntric Veil. ‘A strong hand’ could be your talent for using the Syntrix.”
“‘A tongue you comprehend not’ may well be an old-fashioned description of you and your Earth language, Umbra,” Bellatriz adds. “Yes, that could well be the explanation. But I maintain that it wasmeantas a prophecy or prediction. Perhaps theThrone is not quite updated on what’s happened. Or maybe this was something so alien that I can’t even guess at it. The Throneisa mysterious lifeform.”
I nuzzle Umbra’s hair. “How do you feel?”
51
- Umbra-
I sit still for a moment, taking stock. There’s no pain, and my mind feels much the same as before. “I feel fine. It’s just scary to hear that recording of myself saying those strange things. I don’t think we should tell anyone about this.”
“I agree,” Mareliux growls. “There’s been enough confusion on Khav.”
“Can we leave?”
We get up, and Mareliux leads me through the many halls of the formal part of the palace, then into the daylight, through cobbled streets and into another building, down a flight of stone stairs, and then into a room I haven’t seen before.
It looks like a bar or a club, a grand vaulted hall with metallic green columns holding it up. There are tables and chairs and a counter carved from a huge piece of stone, and the place is lit by the same type of torches as in the Throne room. There’s a stale scent of fermented exotic grains and spices in the air.It could be an officer’s club, a big room made for relaxation and socializing. But only our friends are here. Sigise is standing up by a table with a glass, straightening when we enter. The Imperial Messenger doesn’t look like she’s been sitting down at all, standing straight in the background as if she doesn’t want to be noticed.
“Finally,” Prince Nerox says, standing at the counter and pouring a drink for himself. “We were starting to wonder what’s keeping you. We thought you were doing naughty things in the throne room. Not a bad idea, actually. I will try it myself if I ever become Emperor.”
Caret’ax looks us up and down, then sticks his head out the door and checks for assassins and Phrexz before he closes it securely behind us. “Everything well, sir?”
“Everything,” Mareliux says. “Well, most things. This is the Knife’s Edge, Umbra. The legionnaires used to gather here in the old days. And the young days, too. It’s the one place in the Imperial Palace where they could relax among themselves in the legionnaire way. Tonight, we can relax here, too. There are shocktroopers all around us.” He lifts me up on a chair that’s made for large Khavgren legionnaires and walks over to the counter.
“So that was the Emperor,” Sigise says. “I hope he is recovering from the poisons.”
“The Phrexz kept him just well enough to walk and talk,” Nerox says as he sits down in a chair and puts his feet up on a table. “He was a puppet in every way. It’s astonishing that the Phrexz didn’t do much more damage.”
“I think Juriniel — the Phrexz, I mean — had to exert a lot of power to control both the Calanian Guards and send toxic Syntrix to the legions,” I state. “It’s something I’ve thought about. Using the Syntrix isexhausting. She did as much damage as she could.”
“So it was all Syntric persuasion or possession or whatever you might call it?” Nerox asks. “It sounds like the Forbidden Arts.”
“That’s what the Phrexz was,” Mareliux says as he puts a tall, thin, and cool glass into my hand and leans on my chair. “It used the Forbidden and destructive parts of the Syntrix as well as it could. I suspect the Phrexz are closer to the Syntrix than we are, with more control and greater strength. With the possible exception of Umbra, who seems to be unusually strong. But we have to keep in mind that the Phrexz was in the palace for many years. It took a long time to gain control of the Calanians. And our legions only started to get weak about a year ago. It took a long time for the enemy to get into the minds of both the legions and the Calanians.”
I sniff the drink. It’s alcoholic, but not strong. Taking a sip, I find it tastes like soju.
“Are we sure there aren’t a lot of other people around who had their minds taken over by the Phrexz?” Sigise asks. “I know a certain quaestor I would suspect first. In fact, I’d first check if he is a Phrexz himself. The gods only know how many of them there are on Khav right now.”
“Preniat isn’t a Phrexz,” I tell them, feeling sure. “Juriniel was always surrounded by toxic Syntrix. Not a lot, not enough for me to be struck by until I learned Syntric control. But there was alwayssomethingabout her. A constant… not a hiss, but an unpleasant feeling in my inner mind. As if someone wastouching it with dirty hands. I wanted to clean it. With the quaestor, I never felt anything like that. I think he’s just an ambitious bureaucrat. And now he will sit on a council to rule the Empire.” I look up at Mareliux. “That can’t be a good thing.”
“The whole Regents’ Council is anextremelybad idea,” Mareliux growls, tendrils curling up in frustration. “But we have to live with it, and we will make the most of it. We’ll have Darient there, and I know Marshal Fortanusius. He’s not the best officer in our forces, but he’s close to retirement and will not want to turn me into an enemy. I think we can always outvote the quaestor. And if Preniat has any sense, he will go to great lengths to placate me after all his nonsense. Oh, I suppose this is the time. Nerox, everyone else in this room know it, so you might as well. And our Imperial Messenger — what is your name, legionnaire? — should also hear this.”
The messenger straightens. “I am Cornica Dester Espi, sir!”
I quickly go through the things I’ve picked up about ranks in the Khavgren legions. A cornico is basically a sergeant with special duties that concern communications. And as a female, her rank is cornica.
