He lowered his head and stared at the floor. This residence had been specially prepared for a foreign king, so even the basent was properly floored. Jenkins’s feet stood upon warm, yellow wood planks polished to such a high sheen that they vaguely reflected his image.
"Everything will be fine," he muttered to himself. "I have to succeed."
He had just spoken the words when an explosion rocked the floor above.
"ow?"
The cat, which had been tracking his every move, snapped its head around at the sound. A mont later, it scurried to his feet, as if to make sure he wouldn't bolt and leave it behind.
A muscle in Jenkins's jaw twitched, his anger flaring at the ill-tid blast. He couldn't see the aura of an Enchanter, however, which suggested the explosion wasn't their doing.
Returning to the ground floor, he ran into a squad of guards rushing for the exit. They imdiately turned back, escorting Jenkins and the three remaining royals—Dolores and her two sisters—down to the basent for shelter.
Few of the Stuarts had accompanied Salsi II to the residence in the first place. A trip abroad was a rare chance for freedom, and none of them wanted to be constrained by their father’s supervision, especially those who knew they had no chance of inheriting the throne. With Salsi II and the eldest princess away at the city hall, only Dolores and her two idle sisters remained.
"What happened?"
Jenkins asked, taking Dolores’s hand. The group had already retreated to the basent, where Stuart royal guards, a detail from the Fidektri Kingdom, and a squad from the Church stood heavy guard at the entrance.
"A steam bomb."
Dolores replied, her gaze fixed on the ritual circle on the floor, the one used to summon her coachman:
"Has my tutor not returned?"
"You wait for her here," Jenkins said. "I'm going upstairs to see what's happening."
He handed Dolores both of the ice chess pieces he was allowed to take outside the northern kingdom. After a brief word with the guards at the door, he was permitted to leave.
Stroking the cat on his shoulder, Jenkins stepped outside. The ornantal pool between the main entrance and the courtyard gate was now a wreck of shattered stone, the blast having torn up the surrounding flagstones and lawn.
Over thirty police officers ard with short-barreled guns stood guard at the courtyard gate, while further down the street, police carriages barricaded the intersection.
Jenkins paused at the gate and saw a man—oddly dressed in a dark gray overcoat on a hot sumr morning—being pinned to the floor by three burly officers inside a hat shop across the street.
So, the attack truly had nothing to do with Enchanters. The man, arrested without a struggle, confessed that he had acted alone, with no organization backing him.
The motive was simple enough. About thirteen years ago, the Fidektri Kingdom and the Hamparvo Kingdom had engaged in a low-intensity skirmish along their mountainous northern border.
Low-intensity though it was, there were still casualties. The man's younger brother had been killed in the fighting. And while the conflict quickly ended with a diplomatic reconciliation, the dead did not return. A war pension could not bring back a life that was lost.
So people can accept the death of a loved one; others cannot. When such an unbearable loss is buried deep in the heart for years, it can fester, eventually erupting into unimaginable emotions that drive people to unimaginable acts.
Acts like, for instance, throwing a steam bomb at the residence of a visiting foreign monarch.
It was the kind of news that would spread across the globe within a day. Fortunately, aside from destroying the courtyard’s ornantal fountain and shattering most of the windows on the mansion’s facade, the steam bomb had caused no casualties.
Only after confirming there would be no further incidents did Jenkins return to the basent. Dolores and the other two princesses were now free to leave, but Alexia had yet to co back.
The ever-thoughtful Dolores had servants bring down a table and chairs, and even arranged for so treats for the cat. Now, the two of them could wait in comfort.
It was nearly noon by the ti the carriage brought Alexia back to the basent. Jenkins was slumped over the table, yawning and mulling over his contingency plans for the next day. anwhile, Chocolate was pawing at an empty plate, as if hoping to will more food into existence.
A black mist materialized first, and from within it ca the sound of a carriage halting.
Jenkins scooped up the cat and rose to greet her. After Alexia hopped down from the carriage, the coachman tipped his hat to Jenkins in a silent salute before departing.
"What took you so long? I was starting to think sothing had happened."
He embraced Alexia, his gaze flickering across the mirror-like sheen of a silver platter on the table. He quickly explained what had happened.
The A4 Type Arithtic Auxiliary External Machine hadn't defected, nor had it sold them out to the Difference Engine. It had been diligently assisting with the divination calculations deep underground.
It calculated a great deal over the past week, and Alexia had lingered for a few extra hours after receiving the information, trying to acquire the algorithms the machine had used to arrive at its conclusions.
The petite woman returned Jenkins's hug with enthusiasm, only then beginning to speak:
"First, its calculations have confird that the tal tower does, in fact, have only nine levels. That aligns with what we suspected. It attempted to extrapolate the appearance tis for the remaining levels based on the dates of the previous ascensions. A week after the last one, it produced so results. When we compared them to the levels that rose this week, we found its calculations were highly reliable, with a minimal margin of error."
"So when will the seventh, eighth, and ninth levels appear?"
"The margin of error increases the further out we project. The seventh level should appear soti after this weekend, and the eighth around Wednesday of next week. The ninth is difficult to predict. The machine told that the ninth level is the absolute core of the Reverse-Fated Ritual. The timing of its appearance is tied directly to the Difference Engine's own plans, which makes it impossible to calculate."
Alexia said, and Jenkins nodded in understanding:
"So, you're saying that any day after next Wednesday could be the day of the final battle?"
"Yes."
He took a sharp breath. He and the petite woman continued their conversation as they left the basent:
"And there's more. We've made significant progress in analyzing the Reverse-Fated Ritual. You ntioned last ti that one of the Miss Windsors you brought back from the Mysterious Realm said the Difference Engine in her world was also collecting human brain and brainstem samples, but for the sake of the Mysterious Realms. That was an incredibly useful tip. Based on that, the A4 Type Arithtic Auxiliary External Machine concluded there is a greater than seventy percent probability that the ritual is connected to the Mysterious Realms."
By popular reader demand, we are now introducing a VIP mbership for an ad-free experience.
Click to view.
Reviews
All reviews (0)