He looks at me suspiciously. “What happened? Did you do this?”
I shake my head and raise my shaky hand to my brow. I don’t have to pretend to be scared. I am scared.
He helps me up from my seat. The other guards are beginning to regain consciousness as well. All of a sudden, it’s a pukefest inside the cabin of the Hallafast as my bodyguards suffer the same kind of nausea I had endured upon waking. Keenan ushers me to the door and helps me descend the stairs. “You should go see if anyone needs your help inside,” I tell him. “I’m okay.”
“I should stay with you,” he objects. “Do you want me to take you to your room?”
“No, I won’t be able to sleep. I’d like to go to Kyon’s study and wait for him to return.”
“Are you sure?” he asks. “Maybe I should take you to the medical facility instead. You look like you’re going to fall down.”
“I’d rather go to the study. There’s a sofa there. I can rest on it if I need to.”
He doesn’t argue with me further, and takes me to Kyon’s study. Once there, he orders Oscil to stoke the fire and makes me sit in the emerald chair Kyon had been sitting in earlier. “I’m going to call Fulton. I want him to examine you to make sure you’re okay.” Before I can object, he says, “Oscil, summon Fulton to Foundation, garden level.”
Oscil replies, “Fulton Coalfax has been summoned. He indicates arrival in two fleats.”
Fulton enters the room with a serene look on his face. His eyes go from Keenan to me, and he immediately comes to my side. Kneeling down, he looks in my watery eyes. “Oscil, send a visor,” he commands. He lifts my wrist and holds his fingers to it. “Did you have a trying evening, darling?” he asks me. I nod my head, choking back tears.
Fulton takes my hand and holds it. He looks up at Keenan, who is hovering near us. “What happened?”
“Plenty.”
“Where’s Kyon?” he asks. I watch the firelight shine in the silver streaks of Fulton’s blond hair.
“He sent us home. Nezra crashed their outing. He’s dealing with her. We had a problem upon arrival here.”
His brow furls. “What sort of problem?”
“The Hallafast malfunctioned and the landing was a bit unstable,” Keenan replies.
Fulton turns his attention back to me while Keenan retrieves the visor that Oscil sent to the room in a hovering pod. He hands the body scanner to Fulton. I allow Fulton to put the sunglasseslike contraption on my eyes, knowing that it will take all my vital signs and display them on the surface of the glasses.
“The blood flow to Kricket’s brain was momentarily interrupted, but it seems to be satisfactory now. There’s no sign of clotting or blockage. It’s all very curious. Did something happen to the cabin pressure in the descent?” Fulton asks.
“Possibly,” Keenan replies.
“Submit the Hallafast to maintenance immediately. I want them to go over every aspect of it. When they’re finished with their evaluation, I want it to remain out of service.”
“It will be done,” Keenan replies.
“Keenan, go see to yourself. You look as if you’re about to collapse. I’ll sit with Kricket until Kyon returns.”
Keenan hesitates. “She’s my responsibility.”
“She’s safe here. I’ll see to it. Have another team double the patrols outside if you’re worried. Otherwise, get some rest.”
Keenan debates it for a second and then he nods. To me he says, “Kricket, have Oscil locate me if you need me.”
“I will,” I agree.
Keenan drags himself from the room and Fulton gets to his feet and walks over to a wall near the fireplace. “Drink?” he asks. Touching a panel, a bar opens up for him. Shelves of different sizes and shaped bottles make him look like salesman pushing his elixirs. “Would you like a Winslet?”
“I don’t drink,” I reply.
“That’s why I offered you a Winslet; it’s mild. You should have one.”
“Okay,” I reply. I realize I really don’t care if he were offering me poison. It really doesn’t matter anymore.
He’s a little surprised that I’ve agreed. He runs his fingers over the holographic menu. An ice-frosted flute emerges from the countertop. He grips the long stem in one hand and a fat tumbler of amber-colored liquid in his other, bringing the icy one to me. He sits in the emerald-colored seat next to mine.
After he settles in and the fire and alcohol have had a chance to mellow us both, I glance at him. “Tell me about Excelsior,” I say, as Fulton takes a sip of his drink. He nearly chokes on it.
“My, you’re direct,” he says with amusement.
I don’t reply. Sipping my drink, I find that it’s a dry cranberry-flavored sparkling wine. It’s good.
“Why do you want to talk about my ex-employer?”
I toy with the stem of my flute. “Because everyone here who knows about the prophecy thinks I’m going to kill him.” Fulton’s glass hovers near his lips as he studies me. “Even Excelsior is laboring under that impression. I’d like to know some things about him before I murder him. It’s one of those quirks I have.”
“Excelsior Ensin, Excelsior Ensin . . . where to begin . . . Ah! I can say without hesitation that I know of no other person more deserving of a horrifyingly painful death than Excelsior Ensin. What else would you like to know about him?”
“What does he do if he wins?”
“What do you mean?”
“I mean walk me through it. You’re Excelsior Ensin. You’ve managed to slaughter your son, Kyon, and your daughter-in-law, Kricket. There’s no longer any threat to your reign. What do you do?”
“If I’m Excelsior Ensin?” he asks for clarity. I nod. He thinks for a moment and then he says, “I assassinate the rest of the Brothers. They’re in my way. I then begin to stage assaults against the leaders of the other Houses. I find ways to crush and rout them from power.”
“What do you do to establish yourself as the leader of Alameeda, before you take on the other leaders of the remaining Houses?”
He thinks for a moment. “Excelsior is one for pageantry. He’ll probably throw himself a coronation.”
“What? Like with crowns and stuff?” I ask.
Fulton laughs, delighted by that. “Exactly like with crowns and stuff—maybe even a scepter.” He smirks. “He’ll be the emperor. He’ll need a symbol of power. A crown would be fitting. The Ensin family is supposedly descended from the ancient kings. It’s something that Excelsior bragged about often—or at least it was when I was in his employ. He has made several pilgrimages to their perch at Diadem Rock. It’s a stone circle high upon the Cliffs of Mogotrevo.”
“I’m familiar with Diadem Rock,” I reply, remembering the stone circle where Kyon met Giffen for our hostage exchange.
“Excelsior might be smart enough to model himself after one of the ancient kings—play on the supposed lineage.”
“Do you have anything written down about these ancient kings?” I ask.
“Yes.” He lifts his hands to the sheer cliff face of books that reaches in tiers up to the towering ceiling above us. “You are among kings,” he says dramatically. “Kyon has a collection of their artifacts here that is the envy of any museum. I believe the only reason he collects them is so that his father won’t get them.”