Chapter 2
A long time after the dust had cleared, Jed pushed his face from the ground and spat the dirt from his mouth. Up high, dust motes danced in the tiny finger of light from the first rising sun. Behind him a glowsphere shone dimly in the rubble. Crawling over to it, he brushed the dirt from its smooth surface. The faint glow was barely enough to see by.
Pebbles clinked as a hand scrabbled through the dirt beside him. Jed scraped frantically at the gravel and uncovered Suumin’s head and shoulders. Blood trickled from his nose and mouth.
“My legs… ”
Jed held up the light and saw the huge rock crushing them. Bile rushed into his mouth.
With an effort, Suumin jerked his weapon from its gravelly grave. He pushed it towards Jed.
“It’s all I can give you now,” he gasped. “Don’t forget to come back one day – Prince of Jeddon. You owe it to - your people.” His breath rasped harshly. “Now don’t let me - die in agony.”
Jed stared at him, then as horrified understanding dawned, slowly pointed the laser-gun at Suumin’s head, but his finger on the trigger seemed paralyzed.
“I – I can’t!”
Suumin grasped the barrel and jerked it forward. There was a bright, hissing fizz and his head jerked back, the grimace of death twisting his lips into a macabre smile.
Finally Jed accepted the truth. This was no testing. This was for real. He dropped the weapon and stumbled towards the light at the end of the tunnel.
It was as well there were no guards waiting for him. He staggered out into the cold dawn of a new day and walked towards the mountains, forcing himself to keep going even though his weary muscles shrieked for rest. Finally, when Jeddon’s two suns were high overhead he could stay upright no longer. He crawled under an overhanging rock and pulled handfuls of dead grass and leaves over himself. What was he to do? He couldn’t run from Vexson for the rest of his life.
He would have to find some of his father’s loyal elders to advise him; Garaan – or Jaxel, maybe. They had served his father faithfully for many years. Surely they could be counted on to help him. The Prince of Jeddon should not have to hide amongst rocks like a feral. He pulled another branch across himself and fell asleep with the rustling sounds of the mountain in his ears.
When Jed woke it was dawn again. He had slept half a day and all the night. Now he was so stiff and cold he could hardly move, but a burning thirst drove him to seek water. With an effort he crawled from his rocky niche and forced himself upright. Leaves crunched underfoot and the huge trees towering above dwarfed him. Water! He stumbled downhill through shreds of mist until he found a small brook, almost hidden from sight by looming rocks and overhanging branches. Thankfully he knelt beside it and scooped the water into his mouth, but the buzz of a sunflyer in the distance heralded danger. He scrambled for the cover of nearby rocks. Only guards were allowed sunflyers. They must be looking for him.
The buzz soon grew into a roar and the branches above him were whipped into a frenzy by the down-draught. Shredded leaves danced madly on the water. Jed flattened himself against the rock face, his body taut against the expected fizz of nucleon rays. After what seemed a lifetime, the roar finally receded to a buzz. Gradually, the branches stilled. Jed wiped perspiration and dust from his face.
Beyond the rock a girl’s voice exclaimed. “Did you see the sunflyer, Grandfather? It was so low!”
It was ironic that those who were searching for him had saved him from being found by others. He crept silently into a mossy crevice until the faint scraping of footsteps faded into stillness.
This was as good a time as any to Farseek. To find the help he so desperately needed. He sent his mind out, thankful that his Fourth Bloc had given him the knowledge to Farseek telepathically.
“Garaan... Jaxel…?”
There was no reply from either of them. Wasn’t he doing it right? Puzzled, he tried again. No answering voices filled his mind. Could they possibly be Vexson’s allies? Alarmed at the thought he considered his options. There must be someone else who could help him, but whom?
Xanor! Surely his old friend and mentor would prove to be an ally. But perhaps it would be best to go and speak with him in person. Yes, that’s what he would do. Climb the mountains to Xanor. His old friend was wise and would surely advise him. But this was unfamiliar territory. He looked around. Which way should he climb? Which mountain? He had lost his bearings completely.
With difficulty, he climbed the steep bank above the brook, intending to head for a thick grove of trees. But he was weaker than he realised, and dizziness overtook him. He slipped, tumbled back down the steep bank and plunged headlong into the cold water.
The shock of it took away his dizziness. He dragged himself out onto the lower bank and lay face down, shivering and coughing.
It was a while before he realised he was not alone. His head jerked up and he looked straight into the barrel of an old-fashioned gas-gun.
This was it, then. Whoever owned the gun was certainly not friendly. That would be expecting too much. Despair overwhelmed him. His head dropped back on to the hard rock.
“You win, Vexson,” he whispered, and passed out.
Dizzying darkness pressed him to the ground when he came to. His hands were bound in front of him and his feet tied. He struggled uselessly against his bonds. Where was he? Why had Vexson extinguished the glowsphere? Surely prisoners were allowed a little light. Exhaustion came quickly; he let his limbs relax and closed his eyes. The next time he looked, faint light had dispersed the darkness. Moisture glistened on the moss-covered walls of the cave that surrounded him. The light strengthened and the rays of Sirac, Jeddon’s first sun picked out the emerald cape of the only other occupant, a girl about his own age. Her cape had fallen back to reveal the high boots, leggings and tunic that most Jeddonite youngsters wore. But they were shabbier than most.
She was sitting cross-legged on the ground with a gas-gun across her knees. Her head rested against a rock. Fair curls tumbled like a waterfall over one cheek. She was sound asleep.
Cautiously Jed rose to a sitting position and edged towards her. If he could get the gun …
He could have sworn he’d made no noise, but suddenly she was awake, her hand tightening on the weapon. He sighed and slumped back, tiny rocks sharp under his head.
She smiled uncertainly. “Do you want a drink?”
Laying the gun aside, she held a flask to his lips. He gulped most of the drink down, dismayed by his lack of strength, for his eyes seemed to close of their own accord. He forced them open in time to see the threat of steel above him.
With a cry, he threw up his bound hands and sent the knife spinning. The girl jumped back and grabbed the gun.
“Go on, then!” He glared at her. “Shoot me!”
“I was going to cut you free!” she wailed. “I tied you up in case you ran out into danger while I slept!”
“You know who I am?
“Of course I know. I saw your armbands.” She retrieved the knife and hacked through the stuff that bound him. “You’re the prince. I don’t believe those things they say about you.”
“What things?” Jed asked. “Who are you?”
“My name is Zarine,” she told him. “They say you’re a dangerous criminal. A – murderer.”
“A murderer?”
“A guard was found shot – in the tunnel below the palace. Your fingerprint was on the trigger of the gun.”
Jed began to massage his ankles. Zarine was between him and the cave entrance. And she still had the weapon.
“There’s a rumor that you even sabotaged the king’s space-shuttle.”
Jed was still, despair and rage twin daggers in his heart. How could he ever prove his innocence?
“Of course, not everyone believes that,” Zarine’s soft voice went on.
“They - don’t?”
“No. And some don’t believe about the guard.”
“It’s not true!” Jed cried angrily. “Vexson caused my father’s death. He wants to rule – only he has to get rid of me first.”
“Challenge him, then. Those loyal to the king would support you.”
“Grown men will not be led by a boy of fourteen, especially now I’ve been denounced as a traitor and murderer. Besides, I haven’t received my Fifth Bloc of Knowledge. I can’t rule without that.”
“Fourteen? You look older.” She studied him critically. “Are you hungry?”
“You have food?”
“I can get some wild-fruit from the mountain. You must stay hidden. Grandfather is out there somewhere. I’m not sure what he would do about you.”
“Who else is there?”
“Only my brother; he’s away until this evening.” She stepped to the cave entrance with the gun in her hand.
“Why don’t you leave the gun?” Jed challenged. “Don’t you trust me?”
“If I meet Grandfather, he will expect me to have my weapon,” she replied. “There are many ferals in the mountains. The constant drone of sunflyers will have disturbed them. The knife I need to cut the wild-fruit down.” She smiled briefly and vanished.
Jed paced around the small cave. Common sense told him to flee while he could, but he was still desperately tired - and hungry. And this seemed as good a place to hide as any, for the moment.
Briefly, he wondered what kind of feral inhabited the mountain. He was not afraid of meeting a feral. Not since his last bloc of knowledge had taught him the art of subjugation – how to bind a feral’s will with the power of his mind. Those much younger than he could not do this; their minds did not have enough power. Zarine was younger; she obviously did not have the knowledge since she relied on her weapon.
Perhaps he could give her the knowledge as thanks for her help. It could save her life.
She was a long time coming and Jed’s throat felt like a piece of rough carpet was tacked to it. He could hear no sun flyers. Surely it would be safe to drink from the brook.
He slipped out of the cave, noting its position as he left. The entrance was hardly visible from outside, thanks to the thick tumble of vines dangling from trees nearby. But the drag marks from his heels were plain in the leaf litter. Zarine hadn’t thought to hide them after dragging him to safety. He followed them back to the pool, swishing at the marks with a leafy branch as he went.
The hidden pool gleamed invitingly under the hot sun. Without bothering to shed his clothing Jed waded in and ducked his head under the water. It was good to get the filth of the last few days off his body and clothes – and the cool water soothed his bruises. What had happened to him seemed unreal. He felt he might waken any moment to find it all a dreadful nightmare.
His head jerked up at the distant drone of sunflyers. The nightmare was real. He froze, ready to dash back to the cave, but the sound faded into silence. Relieved, he clambered from the pool, pulling off his wet tunic to dry in the sun.
“You shouldn’t have left the cave.”
He spun around, startled by Zarine’s soft voice. What was wrong with him, being so careless? It could have been a guard. He must remember to think like a criminal.
Zarine propped the gun against a rock and passed him ripe, blue wild-fruit from her tunic pockets, watching while he ate ravenously.
“Why do you stare so?” he asked, at last. “Have you never seen anyone eat before?”
The silver lines in her arms flickered as her face went pink. “It’s just – your arms.”
“What of them?” He continued eating, more slowly now. “Apart from the bruises.”
“I mean – the bands.”
Puzzled, he glanced at his gleaming armbands. They were a part of him. Put on every royal child at birth, they grew with the flesh, becoming a part of it. They reached from his wrists halfway to his elbows
“You – were so ragged and dirty before,” Zarine went on in a low voice. “You didn’t look like a prince. Now you do.”
Abashed at this second proof of carelessness, Jed grabbed his damp jacket, but before he could get it on a fierce growl rent the air. He froze.
The feral crouching on the rocks above them was a huge borjon. The rippling muscles of its powerful, leathery body were tensed ready to spring. Its short, pointed ears were flattened against the ugly head. Black, leathery wings – used for balance, not flight – began to vibrate; a sure sign that it was about to attack.