The last few weeks had been stressful.
Between the kings and his training, Boz hadn't had a calm moment to himself. Preparations for his final test were in full swing, and he barely had time to focus on the shenanigans of the week. Still, Boz found himself involved in the kings going to fight school to recover a family heirloom, an old sword. While they called themselves warriors, they definitely were not warriors yet.
Even then, Boz noticed how much they had changed their attitude. He wasn't just the random guard guy that followed them around and they tolerated it because he tolerated their shenanigans. They started to remember the little things about Boz. Sometimes, when they thought Boz couldn't hear him, they called him their 'older brother'. They weren't wrong, but it made Boz want to tell them the truth.
It was better if nobody knew. Nobody but him and Mikayla, anyway. Just yesterday, they discussed the implications of his presence in the present. Boz tried to steer the conversation away from topics that could be quite painful but tried to give Mikayla the answers she deserved – within reason. He didn't tell her about her future husband. He didn't tell her about Brady's decision. He didn't tell her of the future dangers.
It felt good to have someone to unload these specific worries onto, and they grew closer from it. They had grown so close that when Mason picked up Mikayla to share something important, she insisted Boz was included, claiming she trusted him.
Boz did not like being woken up in the middle of the night, but even he could see how important this was. he quickly got dressed and followed the Makoolas to the throne room.
"Alright, the coast is clear," Mikayla said. "What is so important?"
Mason did a cursory glance of the throne room again, to make sure nobody was here. Boz found himself copying the movement, but he didn't spot anything out of the ordinary. He punched in the code and the walls slid aside, showing the vault where they stored some of the kings' gold.
Mikayla shrugged, while Boz stared at it. Mason didn't call them over to look at the gold, did he?
"Okay, it's the vault, whatever," Mikayla said. Boz nodded.
Mason let the walls slide back into place before he continued.
"I want you two to see what happens when I punch in my birthday." He did so. "Behold!"
The walls slid to the side again, but something was different. The vault was gone; instead, it revealed a mysterious hallway, leading into an even more mysterious room that Boz only glanced at from a safe distance. He recognized the entrance to Vault 14, storing Kinkow's most dangerous items and plants. Truly something to keep from the kings.
"Vault 14!" Mason announced, as Mikayla's mouth fell open in astonishment. "This is…"
"I know!" She laughed, looking at the objects from the same safe distance. "All of Kinkow's mysterious and powerful artifacts are in here!"
"This is awesome." And dangerous. He could already imagine the kings finding out about its existence and trying to punch in every date on the calendar for the chance to accidentally punch in Mason's to gain access.
"For centuries our family has been the protector of Vault 14," Mason said.
Boz frowned. It was a noble cause, to defend the island (and the kings) from the dangers of the vault, but Boz still worried. He wasn't a Makoola. He shouldn't even know the code.
"But I'm not family," Boz said. "Why are you telling me this? Does Mahuma know?"
"Only the Makoolas know," Mason responded. "You're a good man, Boz. I can trust you."
"Thank you," Boz said. That might be one of the most loving things Mason had ever told him. It meant even more because he never had to be polite to Boz, the poor 'Lakunan' young man who wanted to be a guard. He'd earned Mason's trust and Mikayla's, and this was possibly one of the best days of this lie.
"Before we go in," Mason continued. "You must know the one rule: don't tell the kings."
Boz and Mikayla nodded. They could not be allowed access to Vault 14, lest chaos would be unleashed on the island. The type of chaos would depend on what the Kings would focus on, and Boz did not want to know what they could do with everything in there.
"Don't worry," Mikayla said. Mason, Mikayla, and Boz walked into Vault 14, to check it out and see what they should potentially prepare for.
At least the kings didn't know about its existence.
Boz had decided that he was going on an early morning run; before anyone else was up. He could take it easy, for the sake of his leg. Once he got into the rhythm of the run, all his worries seemed to melt away in the early morning sun. A sea breeze caressed his exposed skin and Boz laughed; jogging along the waterline – what could be better than that?
Not having to deal with Lanny. To be fair, the kid was doing his best, even if it was for the wrong reasons. He didn't glare at Boz anymore with that strange intensity and hatred as he did with the kings. Lanny may not admit it, but he was softening up to Boz a little, and the thought made him smile even wider. He was getting there.
Before he knew it, it was time for breakfast and he walked back to the castle. In the courtyard, he saw Mikayla.
"Good morning," he shouted at her. It startled Mikayla, and she had pulled out her machete. When she spotted
"Don't do that!" she said, putting her machete away. "I would have stabbed you."
"I would like to see you try," Boz retorted. "I'm becoming pretty good at combat."
Mikayla shook her head, a smile appearing on her face. "I'd beat you with both my hands tied to my back."
"That's true," Boz said. Before he could say or think of anything else, his stomach growled at him. "I think it's time for breakfast."
"I think so, too," Mikayla said, glancing at his belly; it had been loud enough for Mikayla to hear. The pair went to the double doors – Mikayla could always grab some fruit from the breakfast room – and they entered the castle.
Brady and Boomer were in the throne room, suspiciously close to the Vault and the number pad that granted access to said Vault. Mikayla and Boz shared a knowing glance before she walked a little closer.
"Kings!" Brady and Boomer jumped and quickly turned around, caught in the act. "Looking for something?"
"Just you," Brady stammered, "my whole life."
Mikayla nodded awkwardly while Boz shook his head. "Yeah, well, keep looking."
She clasped her hands together and looked at the Kings – there apparently was another reason for her to get into the throne room, other than nicking some fruit from the dining room.
"I want to tell you about the Kalooki Isles Peace Summit that starts tomorrow."
Brady and Boomer reluctantly moved to the couch. Boz couldn't quite pick up what Boomer muttered to his brother, as he was in his own thoughts. He barely caught the beginning of Mikayla's explanation, and completely tuned out for the rest – he already knew all of this.
The Kalooki Isles Peace Summit… he'd completely forgotten that was coming up. Tomorrow, no less! Boz briefly panicked, until he realized that his younger self wasn't going to be there. Young Boz was in bed right now, struck by an illness that left him bed-bound. Unfortunately, other Mindans would be present in his name and they could meet Boz here.
This was going to be tricky.
"Brady! Boomer!" Mikayla raised her voice, the boys scrambling to say something, which turned out to be inappropriate. Mikayla sighed in exasperation.
"Will you please take this seriously?" she said. "The Kings must attend the Summit to keep the peace."
Brady nodded. "Okay, Mikayla. We'll go." He spoke for himself and his brother. Mikayla breathed in relief.
"Thank you!" she said. "Please, try to stay out of trouble."
She glanced at Boz briefly – help them stay out of trouble – and then left, to the dining room. The kings watched Mikayla and turned to the vault again.
"Hello, trouble," Brady said as the kings moved to the vault.
"Really?" Boz said. "You'd do this blatantly? When I'm still in the room?"
They weren't listening. They quickly punched in the code before Boz could stop them, and the doors slid open.
"Awesome!" The kings entered the little hallway and Boz ran after them. This wasn't going to end well. This was not going to end well. He slipped past them and stood in front of them before they entered the main room.
"Before we continue," he said, as the kings already passed him, "don't touch anything, don't pick anything up and do not take anything out of here – put down that thing, Boomer!" he pointed out his brother, holding a small statue. "That thing can cause laughter or death, and I don't think it'll bring you much laughter."
The tone did the trick – Boomer slowly put the statue back where he got it from.
"Dude, why so protective?" Brady wondered.
"I'm gonna be a guard, it's what I do," Boz said. "Also, these are locked away for a reason."
He allowed the kings some time alone for just a second, to check if anyone had noticed the doors of the vault were opened. That was good, but it could change any more.
"What's this?" Boomer asked, looking at a strange plant in the corner that Boz did not recognize;
"Let's see," Brady said. He grabbed the paper and read off of it. "Duplicatus Plantus. Nature's copy machine?"
Boz frowned – what's a copy machine? They didn't have one on Mindu, that's for sure, and since his arrival on Kinkow six years ago nobody introduced him to one. He'd like to know what it was, though.
"Well," Boomer said, "if it's a copy machine, we know what we gotta do! Butt-copies!"
Boomer stood dangerously close to the plant with his butt. Ridiculous. Before Boz could tell Boomer to move away from the plant, Boomer shrieked.
"That thing just bit my butt!"
Boz pushed past the kings, telling them to stay behind him. The Kings gladly listened as a big sack of mucus rapidly grew at the roots of the plant. They stared in fascination and horror as it grew and grew until it was the size of a person. Two dark hands cut through the mucus from within and climbed out. The fascination soon became just horror.
A second Boomer crawled out of the mucus sack, looking about as threatening as Boomer could. It wasn't a lot, but Boz did draw his machete, just in case. He couldn't stop Boomer from slowly approaching the copy.
"This thing looks exactly like me!" Boomer struck a pose and laughed. "Why, hello there, handsome!"
Two Boomer had spoken in unison. A shiver ran down Boz's spine.
"I've always wanted a twin," Boomer exclaimed. Brady looked at his brother indignantly.
"You mean one that wasn't incredibly ripped?"
Boz frowned. What did that have to do with anything? Boz glanced at the copy again and, deeming him not very dangerous, put the machete away. The copy shook its head.
"I'm not your twin," it said, "I'm your copy. The plant bit you, and here I am."
"That's so awesome, there's two of you!" Brady exclaimed, a large smile on his face. "Think of all the great things you can do! One of you can, like, sleep all day while the other one just takes cat naps!"
"Or," Boomer said, "we'd have actual things to do, like Mikayla's boring Peace Summit. Just send in back-up Boomer!"
Again Boz was reminded that Boomer always did have it in him to be the better leader of the two. Brady snapped his fingers and moved to the plant, saying he wanted one, too.
He pushed his butt as close to the plant as he could and he, too, shrieked as the plant bit him. He moved away again, to make space for the second mucus sack that grew. Within seconds, a copy of Brady climbed out of his mucus sack, and they formally met.
Then all four pairs of eyes landed on Boz. He did not like it.
"What?" he asked.
"Well," Boomer said, "we've already made a copy of ourselves…"
"…and now it's your turn," Brady finished. Boz was already shaking his head – this wasn't a good idea, something bad would probably come from it, even if these copies seemed harmless enough.
"I can't do that."
"Why not?" Brady whined.
"I'm a guard," Boz argued. "I should be teaching you it's wrong to get involved with stuff you know nothing about or that it's wrong to sneak around in a secret Vault. You've got your copies, which… great, I guess, but you can't make me get one, too."
The brothers glanced at one another. Before Boz realized what was going on, the Kings and their copies pushed Boz towards the plant, within biting range. Soon enough, he could feel the bite in his butt and he moved away.
He could barely watch the copy of himself crawl out of the third mucus sack.
Boz thought it weird to look at his copy. Not because it was himself – he'd seen a lot of weird things over the years – but because he had dark hair, like Brady's. Like the Drowned. It made him uneasy and gave him all the more reason to distrust the copies. He'd rather throw them out now, before they got involved in trouble.
Nevertheless, he pulled his copy aside for a quick chat out of earshot of the Kings.
"Listen up," Boz said. "You can't tell the Kings anything about me. I'm not—"
"Woah, relax," the copy replied. "I'm you. I have your memories. Don't worry, your secret is safe with me."
Boz nodded. That was one thing cleared up already. Now, for the other thing he wanted to discuss.
"That's good," Boz said. "So you know I'm going to kill you when you try to harm the kings in any way. I will not hesitate to protect them."
"I know," the copy said again. "You don't have to tell me all this stuff. But now we're here—" He quickly glanced down the hallway. "We do not trust those copies. They give me a bad feeling. Look, you can go stay with the copies of the kings, and I'll stay with the kings and keep them safe."
Boz nodded once. The distrust was still there. But it was still him. Boz knew he wouldn't lie about this thing, so surely his copy wouldn't either, right?
Hopefully, he wasn't going to make the biggest mistake.
"That's good," Boz said. "Thanks, Boz." It was weird calling his copy by his own name.
"You're welcome," the copy said, a nervous smile on his face. "About the name… I'd rather you didn't call me Boz."
"Why not?" Boz wondered.
"I mean… we're kinda the same. You've always wanted to stand out, and because I'm you, I'd like to stand out a little, too. I don't want to be the copy. The spare." The copy took a deep breath. "Please, just… call me Adam or something. Anything but Boz."
Boz nodded sympathetically. Boz knew the feeling all too well – if that was all his copy was going to ask of him, he would grant that request.
"Adam sounds good," Boz said. "Now, let's go to the kings."
Adam nodded and together, they climbed the stairs all the way to the kings' bedroom on the top floor. Inside, the duos were talking – it freaked Boz out that he couldn't see at first glance who was the copy and who was the real one.
"We want you guys to sit back, relax and enjoy the island," Plant Boomer said, a smile on his face.
"Wow, ourselves, good to me!" the real Boomer said, explicitly excited. "Is there anything we could do for you guys?"
"Stay out of our way," Plant Brady said in a threatening voice. His and Plant Boomer's faces got an evil glint to it, and Boz saw reason enough to draw his machete. He let his hand rest on the hilt, though, and did not let the plant copies out of his sight.
"What was that?" Brady stammered. The copies glanced at each other.
"Stay out of our way," Plant Boomer said in a more casual tone, "and we'll do the work for you."
They were on such thin ice… Boz dropped the hand, but decided he wasn't going to let them out of his sight. Tomorrow was going to be such a stressful day, and the plant copies were only going to contribute half of that.
The kings relaxed and even smiled. "They're go-getters, just like us."
"Yeah, just like you guys," Plant Brady said. "Could we get a little bit of water?"