Jonny crouched motionless in the pitch-black shadows and watched the street carefully. The fetid stench that surrounded him was all but overpowering, but he had long-since become accustomed to it. The stillness of that squalid thoroughfare seemed almost unnatural and he had to resist the urge to stir restlessly. It seemed as though Hadji had been gone for hours, however, Jonny's internal clock told him that it had probably been only a fraction of that.
Finally unable to stand it any longer, Jonny shifted uneasily, exhaustion, tension, and fear gnawing at his nerves until he felt totally disjointed. The last four days had been hell and he knew that they were both lucky to be alive. In fact, they probably wouldn't be if a growing sense of uneasiness hadn't caused Hadji to check the voice mail on his dorm room phone just before they were to board the flight in London for Bangalore. The frantic message from Vijay Patel, coupled with Hadji's inability to reach anyone at all at the number Patel had provided, was all the warning the two of them needed. They faded away silently into the crowds at the busy airport. Deliberately missing the flight that they were scheduled to take, they booked new reservations under false identities for a puddle-jumper that left Heathrow two hours later. The flight had made multiple stops in Europe, the Middle East, Africa, and northern India with layovers of up to eight hours at four of the stops. It had taken substantially longer than the direct flight, but when they finally landed in Bangalore City late afternoon on Monday, Jonny was grateful they had decided to be cautious.
Jessie had been right after all. Things were much worse than any of them had imagined. There was open guerilla warfare in the city streets. Uniformed military personnel roamed freely, attacking the citizens, often without apparent provocation. Jonny had not recognized the uniforms and when he had questioned Hadji about them, his brother had said only one word . . . Janissaries. That had been enough. Jonny remembered his only meeting with members of this group . . . the night they had met Hadji's cousin Vikram. That single encounter had convinced Jonny he never wanted to meet them again, and both of them had taken great care of stay well out of their way.
There was no longer any doubt that someone was searching for Hadji. Janissary troops were stationed to search all passengers as they disembarked, and virtually all foreign nationals were turned away and forced back onto the plane to await departure from the country. Across the tarmac, Jonny could see crowds of passengers, most of them obviously European, milling around uneasily. The large number of heavily armed military officers roving the airport kept them crowded together like cattle. An intimate knowledge of the type of aircraft they were on was the only thing that saved them from being taken by the vigilant guards. They had slipped away from the crowd that was attempting to deplane and had moved to the crew area. There, an access portal in the galley led down into the cargo hold where meals were kept stored until flight attendants were ready to prepare them. They had slipped through the portal, descended into the hold, and had hidden there for several hours.
While waiting for the hold to be emptied, they had searched it carefully in the hope of finding a way off of the plane without being spotted. One of the things they found was a large crate that was earmarked for delivery to the palace. They unobtrusively loosened one of the panels and discovered that it contained a huge piece of Persian sculpture. Hadji told Jonny that this was nothing that had been ordered by him or approved for purchase for the palace, but there was no question that was its final destination. As they unpacked much of the shipping material around the sculpture and stuffed it into the empty catering storage units, Hadji commented grimly that Arun Birla collected Persian sculpture.
Just as they began to fear that the plane would not be allowed to unload the cargo hold, the access door in the belly of the plane had opened. Jonny and Hadji slipped into the crate and carefully re-secured the loose panel. They were fairly certain that only a close inspection would show that the crate had been tampered with. It had been a tense twenty minutes as military troops had inspected the hold and marked those items that were to be off-loaded. Jonny and Hadji greeted the sudden sharp movement of the crate with a mixture of fear and relief. They had wedged the huge sculpture as best they could, but they both knew that if the crate wasn't handled carefully, a sudden shift of the contents could crush one or both of them. Fortunately, the cries of the handlers told them that Birla had threatened both the workers and their families if harm should come to the statue, so it was handled with great care. Before long, it had been loaded onto an truck and began its slow, bumpy journey toward the palace.
The two young men had argued in hushed whispers as they bounced along the narrow, uneven streets of Bangalore City. Hadji wanted to ride with the crate all the way into the palace, but Jonny fought that idea. He warned his brother that if Birla had been awaiting the statue, he was likely to be there for its delivery and would want it uncrated immediately. Jonny pointed out that if the man really was behind what they had seen so far, it was unwise to put themselves in a position where they were certain to be captured. He also pointed out that once inside the walls of the palace, they were likely to be cut off from news of what was transpiring outside. Jonny insisted that before they tackled the palace directly, they needed to know what was going on and urged Hadji to find a way to contact Rajeev first. Hadji had stubbornly disagreed and in the end, it was only Jonny's argument that the elder man had the right to know that Hadji had married his daughter so he could prepare for the repercussions that caused Hadji to reluctantly agree. So when the narrow thoroughfare became clogged with pedestrians and livestock, forcing the truck to a halt, the two of them had worked the panel on the crate loose, slipped out, refastened it, and then fled into the milling crowds.
What Jonny didn't voice aloud was his growing concern that their inability to find a way to contact Jessie and Kefira might be precipitating another crisis. He knew Jessie Bannon all too well. She had been seriously unhappy to be left behind, and he was certain that since they had missed several check-ins she would not wait too long before coming after them. Somehow, they had to find a phone and stop the two of them from putting themselves square into the middle of this mess.
They couldn't even contact them via e-mail or vid phone because they had been forced into leaving their luggage and electronic equipment. They had made it as far as Egypt by Saturday afternoon. They arrived at about 2:00 p.m. local time and had a layover until 8:00 the next morning. They needed to check in with Jessie and Kefira and neither of them had slept or bathed since they left Boston almost three days before, so they decided to find a hotel and crash for a while. Jonny had also become convinced that they needed to do something about his appearance. Even in Cairo, an extraordinarily cosmopolitan city, his blonde hair, blue eyes, and fair skin made him stand out. He was certain that once they reached Bangalore they would need to be very quiet about their presence, and he couldn't do that looking the way he did. So, while Hadji got cleaned up, Jonny set out into the bazaars in search of a disguise. He was able to readily locate hair dye and a lotion that would darken his skin, but finding contact lenses that would change his eyes from blue to brown turned out to be much harder. It had taken several hours to track down a small vendor that could provide what was needed and who could be paid to keep his mouth shut. He had been on his way back when he spotted a group of men outside the hotel who caused him to pause and fade back into the crowd.
They were dressed in standard western attire, but something about their bearing marked them as being different. It didn't take long to identify what bothered him about them . . . they carried themselves like soldiers. They were forcibly detaining a young street urchin, questioning him sharply and shaking him when the answers he provided didn't seem to satisfy them. Even from a distance, Jonny recognized the child. He had been begging for baksheesh near the hotel entrance when Jonny and Hadji arrived, and both young men had taken the trouble to stop and talk with the boy. Jonny's internal trouble alarm began to sound wildly as he listened. Circling through the crowd, he found the alley that ran behind the hotel. Using handholds formed by crumbling mortar and an old drainpipe, he scaled the side of the building and pulled himself up onto the roof. He smiled grimly, thinking of Hadji's comment about his propensity for rooftop adventures as he searched for a way to get into the building. An old roof entrance got him inside and a swift dash down a single flight of stairs got him back to their room.
Hadji had been sleeping soundly when Jonny entered, but a sharp shake of his shoulder had brought him awake almost instantly. Hadji had barely made it to his feet before a loud pounding had begun on the door. The only way out was by the window and it was a precarious climb that had to be done free style without even the aid of a trusty drainpipe. There was no way they could carry anything with them and expect to survive the climb back to the roof or down to the ground four stories below them. It left them with little choice. In the few seconds left to them, Jonny triggered an autowipe on the laptop, stuffed it into his duffel bag and tossed them both out the window. Hadji threw his duffel out as well, and then the two of them fled, barely clearing the room before the door shuddered one last time and burst open. They climbed over the edge onto the roof just as one of the men Jonny had seen down on the street thrust his head out the window searching for signs of them. They had descended to the ground quickly, but by the time they worked their way back to the side of the building where their room had been, both duffels were long gone. All they had managed to salvage was their identification, two sets of forged papers - one of which they had been traveling under - the cash they were carrying, the items Jonny had purchased, and the clothes on their backs. The one bright spot was that they hadn't lost the bulk of their clothes or the weapons. The stop in Cairo had forced them to change planes and the two luggage cases containing the weapons cache had been automatically transferred from one cargo hold to the other, never having been returned to their possession. But the entire incident left them certain of one thing . . . someone was watching for them, and they didn't think it was with good intentions.
After a hasty discussion, they both agreed that they couldn't risk returning to the airport and using the reservations they had waiting. So while Jonny donned his disguise, Hadji set out to find them new clothes. They had returned to the airport on Sunday morning about an hour after their plane had been scheduled to leave and found the passengers in the terminal still talking excitedly about the incident on their scheduled flight. It seemed that a group of terrorists had boarded the plane, apparently searching for something. The attackers had appeared suddenly, struck with surgical precision and were gone again before airport security was able to arrive. Everyone seemed uncertain what they wanted, but one thing everyone had agreed on . . . whatever it was, they hadn't found it. The crowd surrounding one of the excited passengers who had witnessed the entire incident first-hand didn't take notice of two young Indian students dressed in traditional garments and turbans, who listened with avid interest.
After a while, the two moved away and Jonny said softly, "That makes no sense. What did they hope to gain?"
"It was a desperate move," Hadji corrected in the same soft voice. "Something has happened. We must get into Bangalore quickly!"
But getting into Bangalore turned out to be extremely difficult and getting there quickly was out of the question. All flights into the country were being canceled, and when airport authorities were questioned they said that issues of passenger safety were being raised due to civil unrest in the country.
Just as they were about to give up and begin searching for an overland route, a single plane was cleared for takeoff into the country. By that time, they had no trouble getting reservations on it . . . almost everyone else had changed their minds about wanting to go there. And so, finally, late Monday afternoon they had arrived . . . only to be greeted by the Janissaries.
Suddenly, Jonny was snapped out of his reverie as a black shape materialized and Hadji dropped to his haunches beside his brother.
"Well?" Jonny breathed in a soft voice.
"Things are very, very bad," Hadji replied. "I was unable to locate any of my street contacts. They all appear to have disappeared."
"Killed?" Jonny questioned grimly.
"I do not know." There was a wealth of frustration in that reply. "I could not ask for any of them openly. But one thing is certain. Something has happened that has enraged the general populace. No one will discuss it, particularly in front of a stranger, but the general tone of the people is ugly and the potential for violence is very real."
"No one recognized you, right?"
"I do not believe so. Most people see what they expect to see, and no one expects to see the Sultan of Bangalore dressed in rags and wandering in the poorest sections of the city in the middle of the night."
"There has got to be some way to find out what's going on!" He heard Hadji take a deep breath beside him.
"There is. We must get into the palace."
"Oh yeah, smart move," Jonny hissed in a whisper. "Let's just hand you over to them."
"I mean it, Jonny," Hadji replied, his whisper sounding irritated. "It is the only place we can hope to find out what has happened."
"So what do we do . . . walk up and knock on the front door saying, 'Hi, mom, I'm home!' Hadji, it's suicide!"
"There are other ways."
"Yeah, like what?"
"There is a back door . . . an old trade entrance that is no longer used much. If I can get in that way, there are accesses to secret passages that seam the palace. Those passages will give me the chance to eavesdrop and learn what is happening."
"What about Rajeev? Surely he would know what's going on."
"I managed to locate a phone but was still unable to reach him. Jonny, I cannot wait any longer. I must know what is happening, and the palace is the best place to get answers."
Jonny sighed. He didn't like it, but he had no better ideas. "Okay, you lead the way and let's scope out your back door."
"I think that perhaps . . ."
"Don't say it . . . don't even think it!" Jonny hissed sharply. "You are not leaving me behind anywhere, you got that? We're in this together."
"Jonny, this is not your fight. I cannot permit . . ."
"I am not one of your subjects! I'm your brother. So don't try to order me around . . . Excellency."
Hadji was silent for a long moment and then he growled softly, "Do not start that. I get enough of it from Kefira."
Jonny grinned in the dark and his laughter came through as he replied, "Yeah, but it works. She sure has your number."
"I cannot make her do anything," Hadji grumbled. "If you insist on coming, then let us go."
"Lead the way."
It took almost two hours to work their way through the city streets and around to the back side of the palace. Finally, the two of them found themselves hidden in a small grove of trees not far from a heavy wooden door that backed up onto the mountainside at the rear of the palace.
"This isn't going to work," Jonny breathed softly to his brother as the two of them watched the four men who leaned against the wall beside the entrance. "They're watching that door."
Hadji uttered a soft curse and continued to watch the men carefully. Finally, he replied, "We will have to remove them. This is the only other way in."
But Jonny had been thinking and a glimmer of an idea was beginning to develop. Grabbing Hadji's arm, he drew him along and the two retreated up the hillside away from the palace. When they were a safe distance from the four men, he said, "I've had a thought. I remember you showing me around the palace the last time we were there and something about the place bothered me."
"What?"
"It was the wrong shape."
"What are you talking about?" Hadji said irritably, turning to descend back down the hillside.
"No, wait. Listen to me. There's closed up sections of the palace, aren't there. The place is huge, but the stuff you showed me can't be all of it. And there were sections of it you must not even have mentioned because the floor plans you showed me don't match the shape of the structure."
"Of course there are unused portions of it. Jonny, the palace is over 500 years old and has been added on to many times."
"Good! Any of those sections lie along an outside wall?"
"Yes," he agreed hesitantly. "But they were mainly the old harem sections with high walls and windows covered with wooden lattice. There were no doors."
"I don't care about doors. We aren't going to be able to get in that way. They're being watched too closely. We need to go for a place they aren't going to expect us."
"We can remove the guards . . ."
"And warn Birla that someone's gotten in somehow? Not a good plan. Right now, he doesn't feel threatened. He has no idea we've made it into the country and he's feeling safe. His overconfidence is our advantage and we need to keep it that way." Jonny scanned the sky quickly. "It's going to start getting light soon. We need to find a place to hole up for a while where we can get some sleep. Later today, I want to slip down and take a look at those abandoned sections of the palace. Come on."
Hadji followed reluctantly and some time later, the two settled into a hollow spot high on the hillside above the palace. They sat for a while, watching the sky brighten and trying to let the strain of the preceding days drain away. Finally, Hadji said, "What are you thinking, Jonny?"
Jonny shook his head. "I'm not entirely sure yet. Give me a while to work on it, and then I'll tell you. Why don't you lie down and get some sleep. I'll take first watch. Do you still have any of that bread you got yesterday afternoon?" He grinned at Hadji. "It's nice to know your old skills as a thief haven't faded away with time and soft living."
"What soft living?" Hadji demanded, rooting around in a grubby canvas bag that lay beside him. "We may have had money, but Father certainly never spoiled us." He held out a chunk of grainy bread and some goat cheese to him. "Do you want some water?"
"Yeah," he said, reaching for the water skin Hadji held out to him. Then he laughed softly. "You do have a point there. Life with our father was never boring. Non-stop is more like it. I'll admit that having the money was nice, though." Jonny leaned back on one elbow with a sigh. "Does make day-to-day things simpler."
Hadji swallowed hastily and then asked, "Are things difficult for you and Jessie?"
"No more so than for any couple just starting out, I guess," he replied with a shrug. "I think it's all in what you get used to. We were used to having the money and then suddenly we didn't have it anymore. It just took a while to adjust. I can't complain. We do all right."
The silence between them lengthened and finally Hadji asked, "Are you happy in Boston?"
Jonny stared hard at his brother. "Why do you keep asking me that?"
Abruptly, Hadji felt as though he was looking at a stranger. Jonny's dark skin, black hair and brown eyes were disconcerting enough, but suddenly Hadji had the feeling he really didn't know the young man facing him any longer. "I am concerned. All of us are. You have . . ." Hadji hesitated, as though searching for a way to express it. " . . . closed up. You do not talk to us any longer. Most of the time we do not even know what you and Jessie are doing. I feel . . . " He trailed off, uncharacteristically uncertain.
Jonny leaned forward in concern. "Hey, Hadj, what's wrong? Talk to me, man."
"Are we drifting apart, Jonny? Is my life in Bangalore and yours in Boston starting to sever the bond we've always shared?"
"Not gonna happen," Jonny replied strongly, leaning forward and putting his hand on Hadji's shoulder. "We're brothers and have been since the day we met in the streets of Calcutta. I call it luck . . . you call it fate. But it doesn't really matter what you call it, I just know that we were meant to be brothers. I figure in another life we were probably born that way. You know what I think the problem is? I think we've both gotten so busy that we've gotten out of the habit of talking to each other. I also think that you've taken to internalizing all the crap that goes on with Bangalore and keeping it from us so we don't worry. Hell, I don't think that . . . I know it. Kefira's told me as much, and I can see it in the way you carry yourself and by how easily you lose your temper. You've closed up on me, too, Hadji, and it's gotta stop. Look, let's make a deal. I'll speak my mind if you will."
The hesitation was only momentary and then Hadji nodded. "Yes. We can keep as much as we want from Father or Race, but not from each other." He smiled wearily. "It will be good to have someone I can talk to again."
Jonny snorted. "Whatever made you think you couldn't talk to me in the first place is beyond me. But I'll tell you what. As a gesture of good faith, I'll start. You've asked me several times if I'm happy. I keep telling you that I am, but you don't seem to believe me. So tell me what's really bugging you and let's just get it out in the open."
Hadji sat up straight and faced Jonny squarely. "Very well. I know you, Jonny. You are extremely stubborn. So is Jessie. I am afraid that you may be finding this much more difficult than you expected, but you are too proud to admit this move was a mistake. Do you think now that it was? Do you miss living at home?"
Jonny considered the question for a while. Finally, he sighed. "That's a hard question for me to answer, Hadji. In some ways I miss it, but in others . . ."
"I know things were difficult for you and Jessie at the end."
"Yeah, but it's more than that. I've told you before . . . I never really fit there. I was a disappointment to Dad. I know that . . ."
"You were not!" Hadji exclaimed.
"Yes, I was. And I'm really sorry about that. I wish I could have been the kind of son he really wanted." His eyes flashed up and met his brother's. "I'm just glad he got you. You've always been what he wanted . . . the one to follow in his footsteps, continue his work." Jonny stretched out on his back and crossed his arms behind his head, staring up at the wisps of high clouds that were rapidly turning into a blazing veil of yellows and pinks as the sun rose. "You know, I've had a lot of time to think about it over the last several months . . . about why things happened the way they did and why Dad and I can't get along anymore. At first, I really thought it was all about Jessie and I, and that the rant about school just added fuel to the fire. But the more I've thought about it, the more I've decided that our relationship really wasn't the problem. It was more of a symptom."
"I do not understand."
"I think I've known for a long time that I could never be happy doing the sort of things Dad does. Oh, I love the travel . . . the strange and exotic places and meeting all the new people. But the work? Things like doing the excavations of the Moai or searching for traces of the existence of the Yeti? Or worse yet, trying to invent something brand new that no one's ever thought of before? Hadji, I just don't enjoy it."
"What do you enjoy?" his brother asked, watching him closely.
Jonny smiled. "I like to play with the stuff he invents. I love being in QuestWorld . . . making it do what I want it to. And I don't just mean the games and stuff. Like when Jess and I modified the military flight simulator program to use it to purge archive files. I loved figuring out how to do that. Or the time Rage planted the bomb and we had to use the Rachel program to try to stop him. Or even something as simple as using the hoverboards. That's the kind of thing I like to do. I think that's why I love my job so much. I'm taking existing stuff and finding new and better ways of making it work for us. And I'm good at it, too."
"Yes, you are," Hadji agreed. "You always have been. And Father valued that."
"I never said he didn't. But it wasn't what he wanted in a son."
"I wish you would quit saying that," Hadji complained, "because it is not true. He told you that himself."
"When?"
"During the confrontation with Surd and his Thoughtscape program. That is an idea Surd planted in your head, Jonny, and it is simply not true."
Jonny shook his head as he sat up again. "No he didn't, Hadji. It was there a long time before that. I must have realized it when I was about ten or eleven. For a long time I told myself that I could learn to be like him, learn to enjoy that kind of stuff. But the older I got, the harder it was to hide the fact that I just didn't like doing research. Why do you think I trashed so many of Dad experiments? I wasn't deliberately trying to cause a problem, but I would get so bored and then my mind would wander and the next thing I knew the whole thing was wrecked. And then Jess came along."
"I don't understand," Hadji repeated.
"Oh, Jess had been there for a long time. But when we were 15 . . . almost 16, our relationship changed. I knew she loved the pure research, just like Dad did, and that idea just sort of started to breed in my head. Jess and I had been dating for a about six months . . . this was after Cairo . . . and Dad had asked me to keep an eye on one of his experiments . . . a short term contract project for some paying client. I'd been sitting there monitoring the progress and got thinking about what I was doing and how much you guys loved this sort of stuff and all of a sudden I found myself feeling trapped . . . boxed in, like I couldn't breathe or something. Needless to say, I lost track of what was going on with the experiment, it got out of hand, and the entire thing was ruined. Dad was absolutely furious."
"I remember," Hadji acknowledged quietly.
"Jess and I had a date that night. We'd both carefully avoided talking about what a mess I'd made and the entire evening had felt really awkward. We were walking along the harborside park in Camden and all of a sudden I just blurted it out. How much I hated that kind of thing and how boring it was and . . ." Jonny stopped and took a deep breath, surprised by how much that memory could still shake him. "It was like once the dam burst, I just couldn't stop. I must have talked for twenty minutes straight. Jess never said a word . . . just sat there on that bench, hanging on every word like it was the most important thing in the world. And when I finally ran down, do you know what she said to me?"
"No, what?"
"She just looked at me with this serious expression and said, 'Then you shouldn't do it.' Just like that. No hesitation, no regrets, no condemnation . . . like it was no big thing at all. Just, you shouldn't do it. And after that, she always found ways to put me to work doing other things when all of us starting working on the big research projects. I'm not sure I've worked on any pure research since that day. And I haven't missed it at all. In fact, it's been a relief."
"I still don't understand what you meant about Father's reaction to your relationship with Jessie being more of a symptom."
"I think it goes back to wanting a son to follow in his footsteps." Jonny glanced sideways at his brother. "As long as you were there, my lack of interest didn't seem to bother him too much. But that changed when you discovered that you were heir to the throne of Bangalore. I watched it dawn on him, little-by-little, that you would never be able to work with him at Quest Enterprises . . . that your responsibilities as Sultan would prevent that from ever happening. And whether he consciously realized it or not, he began to react to the fact that she was running interference for me, shunting me out of the research projects. And then the whole business in March blew up and the next thing he knew, I was moving out and refusing to continue on with school. When I found a job, he suddenly had to face the fact that I had consciously turned away from all that he had built. I think that was the final straw. Everything that has happened since . . . the fact that we still can't get along, his fixation on our living arrangements, the constant harangues about school, all of it . . . goes right back to that single point. I'm not interested in the things that give him a reason to get up in the morning."
"So she was right after all," Hadji said softly.
"Who?"
"Kefira. Back in April she tried to tell us that this might be the source of the problem.
"She's a smart lady," Jonny said with a smile. "One of your better moves, marrying her." But something in Hadji's expression stopped Jonny. "Uh oh. I don't like that look. Now it's your turn. Don't tell me you're having second thoughts!" Hadji didn't reply, staring at the ground fixedly. "Talk to me, Hadji!"
"I am . . . not sure . . . that we did the right thing."
"Not sure? What are you talking about? I watched you as you took your vows. You looked pretty certain then."
"Jonny, I am not one who makes decisions on the spur of the moment and then acts on them. Perhaps in the past I was more that way, but not now. I prefer to think things through carefully and plan them. I will not lie to you. When I asked Kefira to marry me, I was not thinking clearly. I was panicked. Strange men were trying to take her from me . . . had threatened to kill her if I did not let them do as they wished." A pained look came over his face. "And I - I looked at her and the instant before she attacked her assailant, I knew what she was going to do. I could see it in her eyes. When she actually managed to accomplish freeing herself and she survived, all I could think of was to protect her in any way I could. I all but demanded that she marry me immediately."
"Did she tell you she didn't want to marry you, or give any indication that the idea didn't appeal to her?"
"No," he replied after a moment's thought. "She acquiesced immediately. But she was hurt and dazed and I took advantage of the situation. I wish she had told me no."
Jonny laughed. "No, you don't. I have never seen you look as happy as the afternoon when you walked out of our guest room together . . . not to mention when you pledged yourselves to each other. Look, Hadj, I'm going to pass on a piece of wisdom that I got from Dad a while back. Of all the advice he's ever given me, this is by far the best. Don't play the martyr for Kefira. Don't do things without consulting her because you think they're in her best interests, and don't try to second-guess her. Just talk to her openly, be honest in all things, and trust what she tells you. Believe me, if you don't the two of you will self-destruct the way Jess and I damned near did."
Hadji grinned reluctantly. "I am not certain I could survive all of the things you and Jessie went through."
"Yeah, and 90% of it was my own damn fault for doing exactly what you're doing right now. So stop it!" The laughter between the two young men was relaxed and easy. They both turned their attention to the surrounding countryside and the palace far below them, and for a while they didn't say anything.
"You know we have been out of touch for too long," Hadji said quietly, breaking the silence once more.
"I know."
"What do you suppose they are doing?"
"You know what they're doing. One way or the other, they're on their way here."
"And we have no way of stopping them."
Jonny rubbed his face, suddenly looking tired. "No, we don't. Even if we could reach them somehow, I don't think there'd be a way of stopping them from following us." He gestured down at the soldiers drilling on the open grounds of the palace. "I don't care how tightly they've closed the borders, word of this has to have leaked out. They'll come looking for us. You know they will."
"But they won't come alone." The comment wasn't nearly so much a statement of fact as a request for reassurance. "At the very least, they will talk with Father and Race."
"Wanna bet? Jess won't risk having Race try to stop her. Furthermore, I doubt she'll want to risk upsetting Dad right now. No, they'll be coming on their own. The only consolation I have is that Jess is innately suspicious. However they're doing it, you can bet that no one will know they're here until they're ready to make their move." Jonny sighed softly. "Look, you'd better get some rest. I'll take first watch and wake you in about four hours."
Hadji nodded and stretched out, shifting around until he found a comfortable position, as Jonny settled himself against a nearby boulder and prepared himself to keep an eye on their surroundings. And as both young men returned their gaze to the heavens, they each offered up a silent prayer for the young women who meant so very much to them . . .
To Be Continued . . .
