Beyond the Sky: Chapter 4
Secret Meetings
The jet touched down on a runway nestled in a mountain valley, Takji disembarked the VIP cabin and climbed into the equally-posh rear of a waiting car. This was one of the older models, though, and she wondered when the Royal Housemaster would get around to replacing it.
Stonecliff Castle was one of the dynasty’s oldest possessions, predating even the War of the Three Rivers and Mespreth’s first trading empire. The car, preceded by an armored guard truck, wove along narrow roads and through a tunnel into another valley. The castle was there, on the other side, a semicircle of grey stone butted up against a sheer cliff, topped by a steel-mesh dome to keep Flyers out. Reaching the gate for an underground garage, the car was ushered through.
Waiting inside, by the stairs to the courtyard, was none other than King Delvar himself.
“Father?” She exited the car, a Cepic servant pushed the door closed. “Why are you here? I thought—”
“You were meeting Lord Keighal. Apologies, but I lied.”
The admission still stung, though she felt used to it. Such was the way in a royal house, everyone maneuvering against everyone else.
“You flew four hundred miles to tell me I came here for nothing?”
He raised a hand. “Please, let’s discuss this further. Outside.”
They headed out the same gate, took the road to a footpath by the lakeshore. The guards followed at a respectable distance, giving privacy.
Delvar looked across at the blue-fronded trees, and said, “I couldn’t risk bringing this up at the palace.”
“Bringing what up?” She swished her tail, not liking where this was going.
“The military is...hiding things.”
“That’s not what’s called ‘news’.” Still, it explained his choice of venue—Stonecliff was a royal residence, in the family for centuries. The military had nothing to do with it. All the guards were Royal, or Lord Keighal’s men, and they alone oversaw surveillance.
“This is more than some half-finished spyplane or budget scandal. It’s the Black Triangles. The things people are seeing.”
“You think the military knows what they are?”
“The mere fact I find it believable they could, but yet not inform me, is concerning enough. I am their King, curse it!”
“And you can’t let them know you’ve caught wind of it.”
“Indeed.” He ambled along, feet making elongated depressions in the fine gravel. “Which is why I’m appointing you to lead a Royal investigation into these sightings.”
“Me?” Takji started to protest.
“To the government, it’ll appear as just another aspect of our response, and an expansion of your palace roles. You’ve been in the meetings; the military won’t question it.”
“But I’ll really be trying to catch a glimpse behind their curtain, see what they’ve found.”
Delvar raised his ears. “And you’ve got that trip to Jepsei coming up. Nellan has sources there—try to learn about them, discreetly.”
“How do I do that?”
“You’ll have help.”
He whistled, and a Trinn in guard’s robes left his post under a tree and jogged up.
“Your Majesty. Princess.” He greeted and bowed.
“This is Third Dagger Toras, of Clan Gulin, King’s Eyes. One of Commissar Breval’s best men.”
So her father still trusted the intelligence service. It made sense, the King’s Eyes were directly under the Throne, and they’d had a few scuffles with the military in recent years. Not one for a conspiracy to keep secrets. And, more to the point, if the Eyes couldn’t be trusted, the dynasty wasn’t long for this world.
Still, this Toras fellow made her uneasy. Trinns were rare in the Kingdom, at least apart from up north, and he was a hulking example of their kind: burly, over two heads taller than she, with a flat leathery tail and tusk-like front teeth below his nose. But that wasn’t it. Here she stood, confronted by one of her father’s hatchet men, those sent to ‘influence’ foreign politics, or find a dissident and ensure he never spoke again. Everything about that side of government made her skin crawl.
“Stand easy,” Takji told him.
“He’ll be your spearpoint for this investigation,” Delvar continued. “I’ve given him clearance to go anywhere and see anything. But you are not to meet him in the palace—if Nellan gets one hint of this, we’ll never find out what he’s hiding.”
“Or what his people are hiding from him.” That too happened more than it should.
“There’s a small King’s Eyes building on the outskirts of the City, that’ll be Toras’ office, and I’m installing a secure terminal in your chambers.”
“Where do I start? How do I report?”
Toras said, “I have people reviewing the data, we can go over it at the facility.”
“And as for reporting,” Delvar said, “you are not to breathe a word of this to me as soon as we leave this place. Always act as if someone’s listening; contact Toras only through your terminal or take a car to his office. Just make sure you come back with something from those clothing shops. Understand?”
Takji raised her ears.
“Good. I trust you enjoyed our chat on press conferences and landscaping for the east lawn?”
This was one of those assignments where Velli didn’t know what she was in for until she said yes. After a few days of hearing nothing, she took a ride with Commander Udan and Teliv in one of the cell’s civilian cars, a blindfold over her eyes and fuzzweeds in her ears.
“Sure you still want to be talked into this?” Udan said once he turned the car off and Velli removed the fuzzweeds.
She replied, “It’s a little late for that. But I’ve come this far.”
Udan ushered her from the car, removed the blindfold. They stood in the middle of a dusty old field, devoid of water for irrigation. Some paces away was a dilapidated wooden shack. The JNF had worse meeting places, she thought.
Teliv opened the door. This didn’t seem much better: inside, a wide hole hewn from the rock gaped like an open maw.
“Old Burrower tunnels.” Udan noted Velli’s confusion.
Teliv tossed in a rope ladder, they descended down the sloping shaft until they reached a horizontal tunnel. This snaked around and further underground, dark rooms and other passages branching off in places, then they came to a large open cavern, a common area with a skylight shaft overhead. Tool-marks adorned the walls—this place was old, excavated before mechanical drills.
Another Cepic man in a JNF commander’s uniform sat on a rock, he rose as they entered, as did a Yune in a courier’s outfit, one of those who worked for the JNF.
“Commander Parzak, Fifth Division,” the other commander said.
Udan returned his greeting, introducing Teliv and Velli, the latter now with some adulation.
“All I did was throw him off a truck,” Velli said. “If I hadn’t had help, he’d have probably gotten me.”
“I read the file,” Parzak said. “Chasing down a bunch of slavers like that, it’s a brave move. Just what we’re looking for.”
Another commander entered with four fighters, all men (probably from Pars Jassek province, they were more traditional with their fighting forces out there—but what sort of meeting was this, that they’d come all this way?), then an elderly Cepic, a civilian clearly. He seemed out of place.
“Let’s get to it.” Udan stepped up. Evidently, everyone was here. They recited the old Jepsei pledge, the Front’s creed, and spent a moment in silence for the dead. Velli took a seat on an old crate. “Do all present approve the addition of my fighter Velli to our plans?”
Murmurs of assent went around the circle. Velli held her tongue.
Udan said to her, “You are approved.”
“For what?” she finally asked.
“In short,” Commander Parzak. “We are going after the Princess.”
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