Author's Note: Hello again! It's been almost exactly a year and if you thought I was going to break my promise to finish this fic no matter what, then that makes all of us. The number of things that have happened in my life since I last updated is staggering. The pain that I suffered last year has turned into a chronic condition, unfortunately, but I'm determined to not let it get me down. So without further ado, here is chapter six. Hopefully it's at least a little worth the wait. :)
Chapter Six
"Maria, wait a minute!" Liz hurried after Maria, who was all but running down the hallway.
As she rounded a corner Maria called over her shoulder, "Just leave me alone please!"
Liz paused a moment to catch her breath; it had been a long time since she had had to run. Breathing heavily, she rounded the corner and stopped, surprised. Maria was sitting on the floor, her back pressed against the wall, knees up, with her head resting on top of them. Her shoulders were shaking as she lowered one arm to fiddle with the short hem of the tight, red dress she was wearing. Liz hurried over and sat next to her, putting an arm around her. After a couple of minutes, Maria's shoulders stopped shaking. She took a big breath, raising her head and swiping at her eyes.
"This is stupid. I'm not doing this," she said.
"Maria…what's going on?" Liz asked.
Maria hiccupped and then took another deep breath to calm herself. She shrugged off Liz's arm and stood up, facing away from Liz and folding her arms. "Michael and I had a fight."
Liz stood up as well. "Yeah, I gathered that. What about?"
Maria looked up and sighed, not responding for several moments. "Marriage."
"Oh." Liz frowned, unsure what to say.
Maria continued talking, starting to pace. "I mean, you know we've been together forever, and things were actually pretty great for us in Brazil. We own a restaurant, and it's been doing well, we have a home, a life. Things were good, you know?" She stopped to look at Liz, who nodded encouragingly, and then sighed. "And then, I don't know, I just…" She started pacing again. "One day one of my friends asked when we were getting married, and I said 'never', just joking, because we had a great thing going and why mess it up? And then I mentioned it to Michael and he just…I don't know. He didn't freak out, but he seemed pretty relieved. And then it just turned into this thing. It's like I couldn't get it out of my head. Why was he so relieved? Why doesn't he want to marry me? It's just…it's stupid! I don't even care about getting married! I just…want him to not…be against it." She looked over at Liz. "That's stupid right?"
Liz shook her head, but before she could speak Maria started pacing again. "And then about a year ago, there was a thing during Carnaval. We fought and got separated and then I found him in some random girl's hotel room."
Liz gasped. "Oh Maria, I'm so sorry!"
Maria sighed, exasperated. "No, I mean, he didn't cheat. He was stupid, drinking, and you know how weird it gets when he drinks. Honestly, I'm surprised the girl didn't run screaming, but maybe she was too trashed to even notice, I don't know." She waved her hands. "That's not the point. We fought, like, big time. Probably the biggest fight we'd ever had. Eventually it blew over, but I just couldn't get the image of that half naked girl out of my head, and even though I know it's psycho, and I know he didn't cheat, I just couldn't help wondering if the reason Michael didn't want to marry me was because he was bored, or wanted out, or regretted being with me, and the only reason he was with me was because of our situation. And you know Michael. Anytime I even tried to talk to him about it, he would clam up, just like when we were teenagers, which, by the way, is really annoying. And then yesterday, Little Miss Carnaval showed up at our door."
"What?" Liz asked in surprise. "Why was she there?"
"Not important," Maria responded, waving a hand. She then went on to fill Liz in on the fight she and Michael had had recently, her pacing bringing back Liz's morning sickness. "When I finally confronted him last night about it, he just blew up at me." She stopped and looked at Liz. "So I left the room, and now I have no idea what I'm going to do because I can't stay in the same room with him and I can't be in a room by myself since I can't open anything, and the only thing I have to my name is this stupid red dress that I only wore to make him jealous, and there you have it. My pathetic sob story."
"Maria, I'm so sorry."
Maria looked up, tears pooling in her eyes, shaking her head slightly. "I just don't know what to do."
Liz walked over and hugged Maria. "Hey. We'll figure something out."
Arrin looked at Max, his jaw working, eyes narrowed slightly. After several tense moments he nodded his head once and said, "Very well."
Max let out a breath he didn't know he had been holding, and nodded back at him. "Thank you." He stood up, Michael following suit, and gestured towards the door. "After you."
Arrin glanced at Julayna and then stood up, walking over to the door and down the hallway. Max followed, Michael and Julayna behind him.
After several tense moments of silence, Max spoke. "Listen, I don't want you to think I don't care about the people here-"
Arrin stopped abruptly and turned around, cutting him off. "You do not need to explain yourself to me, Your Highness. You are my king and are free to order me about as you wish. It was foolish of me to forget. I have been under my own rule for too long."
Arrin hesitated a moment before bowing at the waist. Max frowned at the gesture as Arrin turned abruptly and continued walking. Michael walked past, giving Max a confused look. Max shook his head slightly and kept walking. Having someone bow before him only reiterated his feelings of inadequacy.
Walking in silence, they rounded a corner and nearly bumped into Liz and Maria, back from wherever they had gone.
Liz walked over to Max, Maria trailing behind her, eyes red. "What's going on?" Liz asked.
Max grabbed her hand and nodded for Arrin to continue leading the way. "We're going to get Isabel and Kyle."
"Why? Where are they?"
Max leaned down towards Liz, speaking quietly. "I'll fill you in later."
Arrin stopped in front of a door, putting his hand on the white square to open it. Max immediately walked in, noting that the room was similar to his own. He was grateful Arrin had not kept Isabel locked in a prison cell, though he suspected that had more to do with Vilandra's standing as a princess than any goodwill Arrin had for Isabel.
"Max?" Isabel turned around from the window, eyes wide, and then strode quickly across the room, enveloping him in a hug. She whispered quickly in his ear, "Max, they've locked us up here. You have to help us."
Max pulled away. "Already done. I've negotiated your freedom."
Kyle, who had been sitting on the bed, walked over next to Isabel. "What do you mean?"
Max looked at Arrin and then back at Isabel and Kyle. "In exchange for my help in freeing the people from Kivar's rule, all charges against you will be dropped."
Isabel exchanged a look with Kyle before giving Arrin an icy smile. "How generous."
Arrin returned Isabel's look with one of complete impassiveness, hiding whatever feelings were lurking beneath. He turned to Max. "If that is all here – "
"No, that's not all." Kyle took a step closer to Max, glowering at Arrin. "You believe him? You believe that he's just going to let Isabel go, let her walk freely around."
Max frowned. "He gave me his word."
Kyle shook his head. "And what? That's good enough for you?"
"Kyle –" Liz started to interrupt.
Kyle pointed at Arrin. "No. I don't trust him. For all we know, he's just using you, Max, the same way that Kivar used Vilandra. He'll use you to overthrow Kivar and then turn on you and take the thrown away."
Max clenched his jaw, irritated at himself for not thinking of the same thing. He glanced at Arrin, who's impassiveness never waivered. He closed his eyes, buying himself some time to think through what to do. He had spent the majority of his life hiding. Hiding who he was, hiding from people intent on capturing him for who knew what purpose. Why did he immediately trust everything Arrin was telling him?
He felt a hand on his arm and opened his eyes, expecting Liz but finding Julayna.
"Zan," she said, her voice soft. "I know you have no reason to trust us, but I can assure you that our motives are pure." She glanced at Arrin and then back at Max. "For as long as I can remember our goal has been to find you and return you to your thrown. Neither Arrin nor myself wish to usurp your rightful place." She frowned at him. "If you could just remember your life here, you would know that we are telling you the truth."
Max looked into her eyes and frowned, suddenly feeling they were somehow familiar, that he had seen them before. An image of catching a small ruby skinned child caught looking at him and bowing her head flashed quickly through his mind. He blinked as the image, the memory, disappeared.
He frowned, unsure what he had just seen, and then looked at Kyle. "The price for your freedom now is that I work with them. Regardless of their plans, Kivar is still ruling and the people are not free. Their freedom is worth the risk." He looked over at Arrin, narrowing his eyes slightly. "And if we find later that we've been double crossed, we'll deal with it then."
Max looked around the room for Liz, finding her just behind Julayna. She smiled at him and nodded encouragingly. He looked back at Kyle. "If we are going to get anything done here, then we have to start by trusting each other."
Kyle opened his mouth to say more, but Isabel put a hand on his shoulder, stopping him with a shake of her head. Kyle looked at her a moment before twisting away and back a few steps. Still looking at Isabel, Kyle shrugged his shoulders. "Fine."
An awkward silence filled the room for several moments before Arrin spoke. "If that is all, then we should proceed directly to the common area. Your subjects are waiting to see you, your Highness." Without waiting to see if Max followed, Arrin walked out the door. Max glanced at Liz and then followed behind, frowning at Arrin's behavior. By his own claim he considered Max his king, and yet he did not treat him like one, constantly ordering him around.
Arrin walked down the same hallway they had just come through, turning down another fork, and then another. It was almost as if the compound was a giant labyrinth. With each turn, Max's nervousness heightened. What did these people expect their king to be? He was no longer Zan. He barely remembered who Zan was. He was half human, and married to a human. He had been living on the run and hiding nearly his entire life on Earth. He knew nothing about being king and the closer he got to being faced with subjects, the more apparent this became to him.
After what felt like mere seconds, but was probably several minutes, Arrin stopped in front of a large double sided door. Just like the many other doors, there was a white square on which to place your palm. As Arrin placed his hand there and the doors began to slide open Max's pulse increased, his hands starting to sweat. He could feel his heart beating in his ears and the sound of the blood rushing by. What was he going to say? Did they think he had a plan for taking back the thrown? What if they didn't like him? What if they didn't think he was fit to be their king after all? What if they disapproved of his wife? What would he do if they refused to accept Liz?
Max glanced at his friends and saw that they appeared to share his nervousness.
"Your Highness."
Max looked back at Arrin who was gesturing for him to follow. Maxed walked through the doors into a large cavern. It looked similar to the one his room looked out on, and he wondered if it was the same one. He looked around, prisms flashing in his eyes, still not seeing the people. Arrin stopped at what appeared to be the entrance to a cave.
"Please wait here while I announce your arrival."
As he walked away, Michael leaned over and whispered "Is it just me or is this a little over the top? Why the hell are they all hiding in a cave?"
Before Max could respond, he heard Arrin say loudly, "I present to you, King Zan, the second."
Startled by the introduction, Max stood rooted to the spot until Michael gave him a shove. Max stumbled a bit before walking slowly through the mouth of the cave. As his eyes adjusted to the dim lighting, he was even more startled by the sight that met his eyes. In the cave – although "cavern" would be a more accurate description of its size – were hundreds if not thousands of people, heads bowed and down on one knee.
Isabel paced in her room. Despite her fear that she would again be locked in, she had returned there after their introduction to the people. Kyle had offered to return with her, but she had urged him to go with the others to the arena. Arrin had decided that Max and Michael should begin their combat training as soon as possible, and the masses were all eager to watch. Isabel wanted to be alone to think, away from the condemning eyes of the Antarians. Arrin had only introduced Max and Michael to the masses, completely ignoring her and their friends. Max had not taken the slight lightly and had made sure to introduce her and the others. Closing her eyes, she could still see the condemnation in the eyes of the Antarians. She knew it wasn't her they saw, but Vilandra and her betrayal of the people. Now in her room alone, she found herself restless. She didn't want to be here. She didn't belong here, but had nowhere to go. Even if she requested she be returned to Earth, she doubted Arrin would agree. The only reason she had her freedom was because of Max. It had been a great risk to Arrin's people to even bring them here, and she doubted they would risk detection by opening another wormhole to send her back.
She glanced at the bed, thinking of Kyle, yet another problem. Being cooped up with him in this room was dangerous. Sleeping beside him last night had not been easy. She had been careful to keep her breathing slow and her movements few, pretending to sleep, but had been awake most of the night. She had finally fallen asleep after hours awake listening to him toss and turn, aching to reach out and touch him. She huffed at herself now. It was irresponsible let anything happen with Kyle. Although she knew what others would think of her conclusions, she knew she was cursed for Vilandra's actions. Even if it she hadn't meant to, Vilandra had killed everyone she loved for Kivar and now everyone Isabel loved died. First Alex, then Jesse. She wasn't going to allow the same to happen to Kyle. She cared too much for him to take the risk.
A knock on her door startled Isabel, making her jump. She frowned wondering who would be knocking on her door. Everyone was supposed to be in the arena. When she opened the door Maria stood in front of her.
"Hi." Maria walked straight through the door to the middle of the room without invitation and then turned around, taking a big breath. "So here's the thing. I can't stay with Michael. We had this huge fight – like really huge – and I cannot stand to sleep in the same bed with him, and I know we were never best friends, and were really more like casual acquaintances despite the fact that we spent a few years on the run together because let's face it, it's a little weird that you were Michael's fiancé in another life and our personalities don't really mesh and I get that, but I just really can't stay there, so I was wondering if Kyle and I could switch rooms and you and I could stay together." She paused from her run-on sentence to take another breath. "I mean I don't know what is going on with you and Kyle, which is really none of my business because he's a great guy and whatever, so I totally understand if you say no –"
"Yes," Isabel said, interrupting whatever else Maria was about to rattle on about.
Maria stared a couple seconds before saying, "Really?"
Isabel smiled, relief at a solution to her issue with Kyle nearly making her giddy. "Yes. It's totally fine. I'll talk to Kyle as soon as he gets back. He can go stay with Michael, or get his own room, or whatever, it doesn't matter. He'll figure something out, and it's really no trouble for you to stay here."
Maria stared again, a wrinkle forming between her eyebrows. "Is everything ok with you two?"
"Yep!" Isabel replied, wincing internally at her falsely bright tone. "Perfectly fine."
Maria frowned before shaking her head slightly. "Whatever. It's none of my business anyway." She smiled back at Isabel. "Well this is great. I would say that I'd go pack my things but I don't really have any…well except for a pillow I grabbed on the way out."
"You grabbed a pillow on your way through the wormhole?" Isabel asked.
"Not on purpose. I mean, we were in bed when the wormhole hit and I just sort of grabbed at anything I could get my hands on to stop from being sucked away."
Isabel shrugged. "Makes sense."
Maria walked up and looped her arm through Isabel's, catching her off guard. "Well, now that it's all settled, do you think you could walk with me back to my old room to grab that pillow?"
"Um…sure," Isabel replied.
Michael stood next to Max, surveying the weapons in front of them, thinking they looked more like medieval weapons than the advanced technology he had expected to find.
"Any idea what any of these things do?" he asked quietly.
Max glanced at him quickly. "No. You?"
"Not a clue." Michael picked up a weapon at random, trying to ignore the sudden rush of chatter in the crowd.
"I was kind of hoping that seeing them would jog a memory," Max said.
"I can't believe you agreed to a fight," Michael said. "And even worse, that you dragged me into it." He stared at the thing in his hand. It looked like a sword of some kind, except the blade was so thin it almost resembled a huge kabob skewer. He flicked his wrist, thinking it looked like something Zorro would use. Suddenly the metallic part went completely limp, the weapon now resembling a shiny whip. Michael looked up at Arryn, who was watching them passively, hands behind his back. "Is it supposed to do that?"
Arryn nodded. "That is the Ferrinquiens, a deceptively simple weapon. A quick movement at the wrist will render the metal either rigid or relaxed. When rigid it will pierce through even the toughest armor. When relaxed it will leave severe marks on the flesh of the victim."
Michael raised his eyebrows, turning the weapon over in his hand. "Sounds more like a torture device."
Max was eyeing the weapons, but hadn't yet picked anything up. Arrin picked up a weapon which reminded Michael of a sword, except that instead of straight the blade was curved like an S. "Might I suggest this weapon," he said, handing the sword to Max.
Max turned it over, frowning as he looked at it. "What is it?"
"It is called an Anguem," replied Arrin. "It, along with the ferrinquiens, is used in close combat."
Max nodded. "Yeah, it looks similar to an old weapon on earth." He looked over at Michael. "Ready?"
Michael looked down at the Ferrinquiens and sighed. "Yeah, whatever. Let's get this over."
As they followed Arrin towards the center of an arena, Michael tugged on his collar. Before selecting weapons they had changed into what Arrin called "training attire" but which looked and felt suspiciously like a glorified black, spandex unitard, covering them completely from the neck down to their feet, which were covered in knee-high black boots. The material of the suit felt both stretchy and hard. It moved with the body, but when he flicked his finger on his arm, it made a clacking sound.
He looked around the arena as they walked, taking it in for the first time, having been distracted before by the idiocy of fighting when they were untrained. The training arena was in the same location as the "common area" Arrin had taken them to. The entrance to the cavern was a couple hundred meters in front of where they now walked. The arena itself reminded Michael of the pictures he'd seen of the Colosseum, although this almost appeared to be naturally occurring. There was a wall made of the same stone as the rest of the cavern, curving around in an oval shape with stone bleachers rising up. It was much larger than they needed, the crowd only taking up one quarter of the seating capacity. He scanned the crowd, finding Liz and Kyle, but not Maria. He sighed, briefly wondering when they would start talking again.
Before he could start dwelling on the subject, Arrin stopped and turned around. "In order to assess where your training should begin, you will be fighting as a team against two of our best fighters."
Michael and Max looked at each other. Great.
Two emerald Antarians, both also dressed in the same full body armor as Michael and Max, walked out onto the field. Michael narrowed his eyes and turned to Arrin. "Hey, do you mind giving me and Max – Zan – some space for a minute?" Arrin nodded once and backed up several steps. Michael grabbed Max by the arm and attempted to pull him further away from Arrin's listening ears.
Max yanked his arm out of Michaels grasp and hissed, "What are you doing?"
Michael frowned. "What?"
Max glanced over his shoulder at the arena. "You want them to think I'm weak? That you boss me around?"
Michael gave Max a look. "What the hell are you talking about?"
Max leaned forward, talking low. "I am supposed to be these people's king and you grabbing me by the arm won't exactly instill confidence in my abilities to lead."
"Is that what this is about?" Michael gestured around them and scoffed. "You're agreed to this fight to prove something? Because let me tell you, Maxwell, when they see just how little we know about fighting, they're not going to be jumping in line to go take on Kivar with us." He gestured to the weapons in their hand. "I may have been the commander of your army before, but I sure as hell don't know anything about fighting now. If you want to prove to these people that we can fight, then I suggest we put down these weapons and fight with our fists, because that's all I know how to do."
Max took a deep breath. "Look, it may have been stupid to agree to a fight now, but if I back out now, how am I going to look?"
"Yeah, and how are you going to look flat on your back with a weapon at your throat?"
An uncertain look passed through Max's face. "It's too late. I'm not backing out." He walked around Michael and spoke to Arrin. "We're ready."
Michael sighed, exasperated, but turned around and prepared to fight. He flicked his wrist so that the metal of his ferrinquiens was rigid. Glancing over at Max, he saw that Max had taken a sort of fighting stance, with one foot behind the other and his sword arm forward. Michael mimicked the stance, feeling stupid. Their opponents stepped forward. One, the taller of the two, held a weapon that looked like a trident on both ends. The other's weapon was an Anguem like Max's.
Arrin nodded at the four of them and stepped back. "Whenever you are ready. The object is to disarm your opponents. We are not looking for excessive bloodshed." Michael swallowed, wondering where the line for "excessive" was.
The Antarian with the double trident twirled the weapon in his hand, stepping back and pulling his arm backwards before lunging forward towards Max. Michael had just enough time to see Max swing his blade up awkwardly before the other Antarian swung his blade towards Michael's side. Michael jumped out of the way, swinging his own blade towards his opponent, missing by several inches. He tried poking the weapon forward, but the man stepped deftly to the side, swinging his blade again, making contact with Michael's weapon, nearly knocking it from him hand. Michael tightened his grip on the weapon, bringing his other hand to hold it as well, pointing it outward. His opponent stalked him in a circle, swiping at him, almost lazily. It was clear that Michael was not giving him much of a challenge. Michael flicked his wrist, turning his sword into a whip, lashing it out towards his opponent's blade, again missing by several inches.
Rath grinned, swinging the ferrinquiens over his head and towards Belin. As the whip gripped Belin's sword Rath flicked his wrist, the whip stiffening as a charge of power rushed from Rath down the length of the blade, pulling the weapon of Belin's hands. Rath picked it up and rushed forward pointing both blades at Belin, who sighed and raised his hands in defeat.
Rath stepped back and handed Belin his weapon, clapping him on the shoulder. "What does that make this?" he asked, grinning.
Belin rolled his eyes. "Second in command to the king, and you still have to gloat."
Michael gasped as he hit the ground. His opponent had him pinned, a smirk on his face as he pointed his blade at Michael's throat. Michael looked at the weapon in his hand, shaken by the sudden vision. What was that?
Suddenly he became aware of the low murmur coming from the crowd. He glanced at Max and saw that he was being slowly backed towards the wall of the arena. Michael looked back at his weapon and then up at his opponent. Narrowing his eyes, he gripped the weapon in his hand, wondering if what he was about to do was brilliant or stupid. He had never been able to control his power, but he wasn't going to just sit there and lose.
He took a deep breath and flicked his hand forward, lashing the whip towards his opponent's blade and sending a burst of energy through his hand simultaneously. The whip gripped the sword, the energy racing up its blade to the hand of his opponent, who hissed in pain, loosening his grip as the energy pulsed up his entire arm. Michael quickly flicked his wrist, his whip returning to blade form, pulling the anguem from his opponent's hand. Michael tried to grab it, but it flew several feet to his right, landing in the dirt. He saw his opponent start running towards the blade and kicked his foot out to trip the man. As he landed in the dirt, Michael hurriedly got up, tripping as he ran towards the weapon. He felt a hand grip his collar and flicked his wrist backwards, the ferrinquiens whipping around to make contact with his opponent. The man let go of his collar and Michael lunged forward, gripping the anguem in his left hand and turning around to face his attacker. The Antarian was still lunging towards him, so Michael brought both blades up, flicking his wrist again, to make a sort of X against his attacker's throat. The blade of the anguem curved around the back of his neck, and Michael jerked him forward, pointing the blade of his ferrinquiens at his opponent's neck. His opponent raised his hands in defeat, bowing his head.
Michael, breathing heavily, removed the weapons from his opponent's throat and stepped back, only then becoming aware of the cheering. He looked over at Max and saw that he was holding the double trident at his opponent's heart with the anguem around his neck. Max looked over at Michael, a stunned look on his face as he stepped back, releasing his hold on both weapons. They fell to the dirt, Max staring at them wide-eyed.
Maria tugged at the hem of her skirt for the umpteenth time. Of all the times to get sucked into a wormhole, it had to be when she was in a mini-dress.
"Hey," she said to Isabel as they walked down the hall back to
their room. "You wouldn't happen to have some extra clothes lying around, would you?"
Isabel looked over, shaking her head. "Sorry. Kyle and I were on a picnic when we got sucked away."
Maria looked sideways at Isabel. "So…what is going on with you two? Are you an item?"
Isabel laughed mirthlessly. "No. Definitely not."
"Were you an item?"
Isabel shook her head. "Nope."
Maria frowned. "So…just friends then?"
Isabel glanced over. "Yep. Just friends."
They stopped in front of the door, Isabel putting her hand on the white square to open it and walking through. Maria followed, throwing her pillow onto the bed, eyeing the sheets and wondering if she could make an impromptu toga out of them. Or better yet, go back to Michael's room and use his sheets.
"So, why just friends?" Maria asked, sitting down on the bed and pulling the sheets around herself.
Isabel looked out the window. Maria had to admit, if you were going to be stuck underground, having a cave full of crystals to look at was the way to go.
"I don't know." Isabel shrugged. "I guess we just never saw each other that way."
Maria rolled her eyes. "Oh come on."
Isabel turned around. "What?"
Maria stood up, hugging the sheets to herself, tripping on the bottom. She might need to track down some scissors if this toga idea was going to work. "I saw the way Kyle defended you. The guy's into you."
Isabel blinked at Maria, startled. "Well…it doesn't matter. I don't like him like that."
Maria shrugged, now distracted by the mechanics of toga-making. "Ok, whatever." She removed the sheet and folded it into a triangle, then grabbed two ends, twisting it around her so that the long side of the triangle was on her left side, tying a knot on her right shoulder. She looked back at Isabel, posing. "What do you think? Asymmetrical toga?"
Isabel sighed. "What exactly are we supposed to sleep with?" She asked.
Maria shrugged again. "We can go steal Michael's sheets."
Isabel rolled her eyes and then began removing the belt from her jeans. She threw it at Maria. "Here. It needs a belt. And wrap the sheet in on itself a little more, unless your goal is to flash everyone every time walk."
Maria caught the belt and tugged the fabric around her a bit more, fastening the belt at her waist. She walked over to a mirror and looked at her handiwork. "Not bad. I think the belt really makes it." She looked back over at Isabel and smiled. "Thanks." She started unfastening the belt. "Now to get out of this dress." She left the toga tied on and shimmied her way out of the dress, tossing it on the floor with her foot and then refastening the belt. She let out a sigh of relief. "You have no idea how tight that dress is. I've been sucking in for like 2 days straight."
She turned back around towards the mirror, pulling her hair over her shoulders. Suddenly the memory of prom hit her, her toga and hair reminiscent of that long ago day in a white dress and flower crown. She swallowed against the melancholy that hit her, laughing to herself now at how simple their lives had been. Oh they had thought they were complicated, but they hadn't known the meaning of complicated. That was before Alex died, before they knew Tess was a snake and a murderer, before they had to flee to different countries.
Maria sighed, turning from the mirror and forcing the painful memories away. She walked over to where Isabel was standing and looked out. Down below them, Antarians were walking from one cave into the next. It appeared that the fighting practice was over.
"So do you remember anything about Vilandra?" Maria asked, averting her eyes when she saw Michael walk out of the cave.
Isabel's head turned sharply. "Why?"
Maria looked up, surprised. "I don't know. Michael had a dream last night that he thought was a memory." She shrugged. "I just wondered if you had remembered anything."
Isabel looked back out the window at the people below them. "Yes."
"Really? What do you remember?"
Isabel sighed. "It's not important."
Maria paused a moment before a thought dawned on her. "Ah," she said. "You remembered something about Kivar…What was it like? What were you like?"
"I just…I don't know. I was different," Isabel hedged.
"Oh come on, spill."
"I'd rather not."
"What's the big deal?" Maria asked. "We all know you didn't really betray Max –"
"I don't want to talk about it, ok?" Isabel snapped.
Startled, Maria stepped back, hands up. "Ok, ok." She looked around for a change of subject. "Um…I'm just…going to go find Liz. Think you can let me out?"
Isabel looked over at Maria, who smiled tightly and pointed at the door. Isabel nodded and walked over, slapping her hand on the white square. Maria walked out. It was certainly going to be interesting sharing a room with Isabel.
"That was a very successful first combat attempt," Arrin said, sounding pleased. Max looked over at him as they walked and was surprised to see a crack in his aloof demeanor. Arrin almost looked like he was about to smile.
Max cleared his throat. "Yes." He glanced over at Michael. "Surprisingly so."
"We must begin a strict regimen of diet, exercise, and combat training immediately." Arrin seemed to be talking to himself. "If your technique improves with each training as quickly as it did today, we may be able to move our strike forward."
"How soon were you planning to attack Kivar?" Max asked, looking through the crowd ahead for Liz.
Arrin's mask of indifference returned as he turned to Max, all traces of excitement gone. "Our initial estimation was within sixty days, but if you continue to improve at such a rate, we may be able to strike in thirty days."
Max turned to stare Arrin, appalled. "You want strike Kivar in thirty days?"
"That time should be more than enough for you to regain use of your skills," Arrin returned.
"Regain use – " Max cut off, suddenly realizing what Arrin was referring to. "You knew that we'd start getting our memories back."
Arrin nodded. "Yes. It was rumored that there was a trigger built into your DNA which would allow you to remember the lives you led prior to your demise on Antar. I assume that since the pair of you made a rather miraculous recovery from certain defeat in the arena that the rumors proved true."
"Hang on." Michael grabbed Max by the shoulder and they, along with Arrin and Julayna, stopped walking. "You got your memories back, too?"
Max glanced at Arrin and Julayna and then back at Michael, nodding. "Yes…well, sort of. I've only had flashes of memory. I don't have anything close to everything, but when I was out there, I just…I don't know." Max thought back to the fight, how he had been blindsided by a memory of training with Rath. When he had snapped out of it he had been backed against a wall, but the anguem had felt right in his hand, almost like an extra appendage. He looked up at Arrin, eyes narrowed as he realized something else. "You knew."
"Knew what?" Michael asked, looking between Max and Arrin.
"Arrin knew that I used to fight with the anguem." He turned to Michael. "He's the one who handed it to me." Max looked back at Arrin. "You knew I'd remember."
Arrin nodded. "I was not certain you would remember your favored weapon, but I suspected it might help trigger the mechanism." He turned to look at Michael. "I am certain it was not coincidence that you picked the ferrinquiens. It was your favored weapon as well."
Max looked at Michael, the wheels in his mind turning. His instincts were screaming at him not to trust Arrin. He took a steadying breath and turned towards Arrin. If Arrin was going to claim Max was his king then he was going to start acting like it. Max narrowed his eyes, trying to put as much conviction in them as he could. "Arrin, if you continue to play games with me then I will find a new advisor."
Arrin blinked, the muscles in his jaw working. "I'm afraid I don't know to what you are referring."
Max leaned forward and held up a finger. "First you imprisoned Isabel." He held up a second finger. "Then you tried to keep it from me." He held up a third finger. "And now you decided to test out your theories without telling me." He leaned still closer, talking low. "If I find out anything else to list, then you can go align yourself with Kivar, because I will not be toyed with. You call me your king, so start acting like it and quit lying to me."
Arrin stared for several seconds. Max held his breath, anger and uncertainty warring in his mind. This was twice in only a few hours that Max had directly challenged Arrin. Eventually Arrin nodded. "As you wish, Your Majesty. Please accept my humblest apologies."
Max exhaled and nodded. "I accept…and please call me Zan," he replied, chaffing underneath the royal title. "Or better yet, Max."
Arrin looked at him sharply, anger radiating from him. "I am your subject and therefore I will refer to you by the title to which you were born."
"Arrin!" Julayna put a hand on Arrin's arm and shook her head.
Max frowned at the rebuke and opened his mouth to reply.
"Maxwell."
Max turned to look at Michael. Michael in turn looked at Arrin and Julayna. "Can you give us some space?"
Julayna nodded and pulled a relucatant Arrin away.
"What is it?" Max asked.
Michael turned back to look at him. "Arrin's right."
Max stared, shocked. "What?"
"You can't have it both ways." Michael sighed. "Look, I'm down with you being all kingly and exerting power over Arrin, but you can't expect everyone to be your friend."
"Why not?" Max returned. "I'm not better than anyone here. I'm not even full Antarian. How am I supposed to lead these people if I don't develop any friendships?"
Michael shook his head, pity in his eyes. Max frowned, surprised at the change he saw in Michael. What had happened to his impulsive, hot headed friend?
"Kings don't have the luxury of friends," Michael said and then turned to walk back towards Arrin and Julayna, leaving Max staring.
A/N: Thanks for reading! And believe me it won't be a year before I update again. :)