Chapter 13
Winnie, age fourteen years, four months, and two days, found it perfectly natural to share a dock on the lake with a mom who died five years, seven months, three weeks, and five days ago. Winnie lay on her stomach, peering through the clear water at the dozens of orange, brown, and white pebbles on the lake bed below.
“Ya know how warrior has ‘war’ in it?” she said dreamily.
Mom said with a smile in her voice, “I might have noticed.”
Winnie sat up, unable to look her in the eye. “I’m about to go to war. Against lurkin. Ever heard of them?”
“Don’t think so.”
“They’re giant spiders.”
“Sounds like you’ll need a really big can of bug spray.”
“Mom, it’s not a joke.”
“Just trying to lighten the mood.” Mom hugged Winnie close.
She could always sense Mom’s deep inner strength. She felt it now. Mom could do anything. She wasn’t the one going to war, though—Winnie was. What if she didn’t share Mom’s warrior qualities? What if she failed?
Her eyes opened to daylight. Why didn’t her alarm wake her before sunrise? She sat up with a jolt. Sunlight streamed through her open french doors.
Movement from her right pulled her attention to a small gray humanoid dressed in a long red chemise. The being had a large bald head and tiny mouth. Alien abduction!
Then she remembered she’d landed in Frama-12 yesterday. She flopped onto her back again.
A mel-yew leaned over her, looking concerned. “Are you unwell, General?”
Winnie sat up. “I’m fine.” She rubbed a hand down her face. “Just thought I was someplace else.”
The tiny person nodded. “A dream.”
Winnie guessed it was a woman, judging by the simple dress she wore.
“I’m Nita, your servant.” She curtsied. “I’ve brought breakfast and will serve it when you’re ready, General.”
Winnie had her own maid? Being a general in Frama-12 had perks.
“Nita, could I have breakfast on the balcony, please?” she asked, testing her new power. “I feel like eating outside.”
Nita curtsied again. “As you wish, General.”
From her balcony, she gazed down at the dew glinting off the lawn. A chorus of birds sang from the bushes below, announcing a fresh new day. She even smelled sweet honeysuckle in the air. If she breathed too deeply, though, she caught a hint of Frama-12’s rotting ocean. She hoped the lurk in weren’t marching yet. She wasn’t ready.
Nita lifted the silver cover on the breakfast tray she’d set on the balcony table. A heaping platter of scrambled eggs, along with a bowl of orange melon balls, lay beneath.
Winnie dipped a fork into the eggs. She took a bite before she remembered this place had weird food. Thankfully, the eggs tasted normal. “You have chickens.”
“Chickens, General?”
“You probably call them something else. I meant the animals that laid these things.” She pointed her fork at the eggs.
The mel-yew servant curtsied. “We call them harriks, good General.”
They scrambled snake eggs? Winnie stifled a gag and pushed the tray aside.
“Are they not prepared to your liking, General?”
“They’re fine. I’m more of a fruit lover. This is fruit, right?”
“Yes, General.”
Winnie speared an orange melon ball and took a careful bite. Sugary juices touched her tongue, erasing the eggy taste. “So how do you guys collect harris eggs?”
“The court jester, Polo, hides in the bushes below a nesting harrik. He mimics the cry of a wounded palm colt. When the harris leaves its nest, hoping to make a meal of the prey, a collector climbs the tree and gathers the eggs.”
Winnie nodded. “Inventive.”
A honking noise sounded from above. A gray bird, bigger than a falcon, glided by. Its long talons gripped a mel-yew by the shoulders.
Winnie leaped up in alarm. “That bird’s stealing one of your people!”
“Begging the general’s pardon, that was one of the royal guards on duty.”
“You mean that bird can do that without dropping him?”
“Wiggets are trained to hold the guards well, General. These birds are educated and housed at the east end of the courtyard.”
Winnie had just opened her mouth to ask if their sun rose in the east or the west, when a decisive rap sounded at her door.
“Excuse me, General.” Nita hurried to answer it. She returned, looking grim. “The queen requests your attendance at breakfast, General.”
“Perfect.”
Nita’s red-rimmed eyes watered. “But, General, I’ve already served you. Now you shan’t be hungry for the queen’s breakfast.”
One bite of melon had only woken her appetite. Winnie patted her empty stomach. “I’m sure I’ll find room.”
A young toad person, dressed in a royal-blue tunic, met her in the hallway. “I am humbly at your service, General. May I escort you to Queen Bogen’s private dining hall?”
“You may.” She tried not to grin over her elevated status.
Her guide led her to an immense dining hall. He pulled out a high-backed chair on the right side of the long, mahogany table. Winnie thanked him. He bowed and departed. She draped her white linen napkin across her knees. She waited. And waited.
If she’d known it would take this long, she could have jogged around the castle to keep up her training schedule.
Finally, just when she felt hungry enough to eat the tablecloth, a trumpet fanfare blasted from the open door. “All rise for Her Royal Majesty, Queen Bogen!”
Winnie jumped to her feet, napkin in hand.
“Good morning, General.” The queen squatted in the royal chair at the head of the table. “It’s just the two of us for breakfast.”
Winnie returned to her seat. The queen rang a small bell. A procession of mel-yew servants, dressed in white, entered. The two in front carried plates of that deliciously moist bread, followed by a steward who poured bubbly red juice into the queen’s and Winnie’s goblets. Other servants brought thick yellow soup, scrambled harris eggs, various meat dishes, and fruit.
Winnie sampled a little of everything, except the eggs and the grapes. She also passed on a plate of minced meat that looked like mashed beetles.
“We trust you slept well. Your rooms are satisfactory.” It was a statement, not a question.
“Yes, Your Highness, very satisfactory. Thank you.”
“We expect you’ll require an office of sorts to plan your strategy and whatnot.”
Winnie nodded. “Plus, I’ll need some advisors.”
“You are quite welcome to make use of our councilmen. When they’re not meeting with us, of course.”
The idea of sitting in the same room with all those grumpy toads made Winnie’s insides twist. “No offense or anything, but your staff is a little too regal for me. My questions need to be answered by regular people.”
“Though at times our advisors may act a bit above themselves, they are quite well equipped to answer any questions you might have.”
Winnie picked at a crumb on the white tablecloth. “The truth is, Your Majesty, I need different opinions from different people. You know, vogan, mel-yew, palum.”
Queen Bogen put down her fork. She focused her bulging pink eyes on Winnie. “Palum? That seems a rather odd request. They’re not very bright, you know.”
“I met their leader yesterday. Pall? He seemed smart.” Winnie hoped he was smart enough to forgive her for her spring-water faux pas.
Queen Bogen steepled her knobby fingers, looking thoughtful. “Because you are Takka’s champion, your unusual request shall be granted. Although it is well known throughout the realm that vogando not sit in conference with palum.”
“That’s okay. I can probably get along without any vogan.”
The queen took a deep breath. “Though it pains us, we believe it is only right and proper that a voga be present at your meetings. If you have no success finding one who is agreeable, we shall command one to join you.”
“Excellent. Thanks. Also, I’d like a Brothers Ky and definitely Polo.”
The queen puffed up like a white bullfrog. “Polo? Were you hoping to build morale by having him tell jokes to our army?”
“I thought since he can fool harris long enough to steal their eggs, he might be smart enough to fool the lurkin.”
The queen let out a melodramatic breath of air. “We don’t see how he can help you, but he shall be informed of his new advisory position. Have you any other requests?”
Winnie nodded, enthusiastic again. “I promised I’d hire that little mel-yew I met at the snaps hunt yesterday. Cubby?”
“Now you wish to retain a mel-yew child as an advisor?”
“Yes, please.”
Queen Bogen sighed again. “As you wish.”
“Thanks, Your Majesty. I’d like to meet with them as soon as possible. You know, so I can get started on my strategy.”
“They shall be summoned to your designated office after you’ve inspected the troops. But first you must be fitted with a uniform.”
Winnie peered down at her dirty, rumpled T-shirt. “Good idea.”
“Our seamstress, Gabelle, shall make you a fine military frock.”
Movement in the open doorway caught Winnie’s attention. Kip, dressed in a deep purple robe decorated with yellow half-moons and stars, hovered just outside. He even wore a pointed wizard’s cap. He reminded Winnie of a young Merlin. And as much as she hated to admit it, he almost looked cute.
“A fine good morning to you, Your Majesty!” He dipped into a bow. “And to you, good General. Might I interrupt Your Royal Eminence for a brief demonstration?”
The queen raised a welcoming hand. “Enter, good Master Wizard.”
He practically skipped inside, eyes aglow. “I’ve been practicing this all night!” He slid into the seat across from Winnie and wrapped a fresh linen napkin around the saltshaker. He murmured something she couldn’t hear. The air crackled. Her ears popped just as the napkin vanished.
He beamed.
Queen Bogen stared at him for a long moment. “Is there some point to misplacing our linens?”
He grinned like an idiot. “Your Majesty, I thought we could embarrass the enemy by vanishing their clothes.”
Winnie smirked, unimpressed. Any birthday party magician could make things look like they disappeared.
The queen looked equally unmoved. “We’d much rather you vanished the enemy and left their clothing, Master Wizard.”
He rubbed his chin. “Before I can do that, I’ll need an incantation that doesn’t require the wand, Your Majesty.”
“Carry on, then.”
“Thank you, Your Majesty. I see Your Grand Majesty has invited the general to breakfast.” He playfully shifted his eyebrows up and down at Winnie from across the table.
Winnie looked away, pretending not to notice.
“As you know, Majesty,” he continued, “a good breakfast helps wizards perform at their best.”
“Would you care to join us, Master Wizard?”
“Why thank you, Your Majesty, don’t mind if I do.”
Winnie had to hand it to him. He knew how to get his way. Was it his smile or the accent? Both were slowly growing on her until he lifted the dish of mashed beetles and started scooping them onto his plate. Nobody needed to see that.
She pushed back her chair. “I probably should get started, Your Majesty. I have a lot to do. I’d also like to see how the palm are making out at the lookout post.”
“No need, General. Commander Fynn is already seeing to the palum.”
“Could he teach them how to use my binoculars?”
“Fynn is on the way to the castle with his report as we speak. Traveling across our realm takes up a great deal of time, General, which is limited.”
At the mention of time, Winnie instinctively checked her watch. The face was blank. She unfastened the wristband and tapped her watch on the tabletop.
“Me cell phone went too,” Kip said. “I go by sundial now.”
The queen leaned toward the watch. “Ooh, what is that?”
“Broken, Your Majesty.” Winnie pressed a side button. Several notes peeped weakly from the watch’s tiny speaker.
“How extraordinary. It sings.”
“It’s also supposed to tell time.” Winnie laid it on the table.
Queen Bogen lifted the watch. “Our technical staff could look into the trouble.”
Winnie snorted skeptically.
“We are far more advanced than we appear. We happen to prefer simplicity.”
“Oh. Um, sure. I’ll leave it here if they want to try to fix it.”
“Be on your way, then, General.” The queen’s focus remained on the watch. “A page will show you to Gabelle’s fitting rooms.”
The same page from before led Winnie down a long hall. “What’s your name, good page?”
“I am called Loy, General.”
He looked efficient enough for her staff. “Loy, how would you like to join the team I’m putting together to discuss battle strategies?”
The page bowed. “I’d be honored, General. I’ve heard stories of Your Eminence.”
“Really? I guess I am kind of important. I’m here to”—she shrugged, hoping to appear humble—“save your world.”
“A task you are most capable of, General.”
“I’m looking for a voga adviser. Do you mind working with palum?”
“A small sacrifice if I may serve one so grand as yourself, good General.”
“Then you’ve got the job,” Winnie said, dazzled by her own self-importance.