Prince of Attania, 2

Attan tossed his jacket down on his bed in disgust. Apparently, he had a keeper. Greg was his shadow to make sure he didn’t transform and disappear. And Daniel was his other shadow, watching him carefully those few times he did allow Attan to merge as an Elemental. Did they all think he was so weak-minded that he would succumb to Aylard’s conditioning the minute he turned Elemental? If it even was Aylard who was behind all the ‘releases.’

“You can go wash,” he said sullenly to Greg, who had taken a seat on his own bed opposite Attan’s. “I won’t disappear.” He wouldn’t because Daniel was right downstairs.

Greg slid his hands behind his head and leaned back on the bed.

“All right, then I’ll go wash.” Attan stomped out of their shared room, not surprised when Greg scrambled to his feet and followed right behind him. It had been this way for a week. The only good thing to come out of it was that Greg was always there when Tom accosted Attan. Tom seemed to lay in wait for the boys so he could accompany them on their daily assignments. Lately, they’d been assigned to help out in the fields to the east of Parrion, which necessitated riding the One Rail. Attan wore a large hat to help disguise his distinctive coloring, though most of the Sons of Men were used to him by now. Ben didn’t want to take the chance of someone from New Parrion spotting him, and giving away his location.

With Greg around, Tom was a little more circumspect in his conversations with Attan, for which Attan was grateful. But Tom still got his point across, Greg or no Greg. He still considered Attan his personal Family assistant, asking for elemental help with the smallest tasks. Once, when Greg wasn’t paying attention, Tom pulled Attan aside and whispered, “Have you ever gone to the Eastern Sea?” And when Attan shook his head, Tom added, “Would you like to?” Attan had stared at Tom, wondering what the attraction was.

Daniel was also very interested in the Eastern Sea, for different reasons. From his mapping of the elemental tunnels, he determined that they all led towards the sea, although he had not yet followed the various paths all the way to their end points. Where else could they lead? The sea surrounded all of Attania. Eventually everything ended there.

Attan splashed water on his face, eying Greg who was standing uncertainly by the door. Attan stomped past Greg and flung himself on the bed. Might as well try to get some sleep, then. A few minutes later Greg came in and quietly lay down on his own bed. Attan turned towards the wall.

“You know, I’m not your enemy,” Greg muttered. Attan heard the bed creak as Greg settled down to sleep, but the non-family boy wasn’t finished yet. “Did it ever occur to you that you’re the only friend I have in this place? What else am I supposed to do?”

Attan turned over to see that Greg now faced the wall on his side. He didn’t believe Greg, not completely, but maybe Greg had a point. He’d been dragged from his home to accompany Attan here, and his own brother just about ignored him. “You didn’t have to follow me to the washroom,” Attan said mildly.

Greg turned back. “I had to go, too.”

Oh. That’s why Greg didn’t follow him right back again. Attan almost believed it. “Fine,” he replied. Maybe it was true. Attan didn’t feel those urges enough to know how real they were. Still . . . “I’m not going to disappear,” he reiterated.

Greg grunted and pulled the blanket over his head.

It took Attan a long time to fall asleep after that. Their summer adventure wasn’t all he had imagined it would be. Soon, Merrell would be here for him, and he’d be whisked off to Arden and watched just as closely. He didn’t want to disturb his father on his honeymoon, but surely Jet would understand how important it was to Attan to transform! He wasn’t meant to wear a physical body for such a long period of time. It itched at him, and it didn’t help that the free elementals all around him zinged in and out of him, attracted to his sameness, he guessed. He wanted to be with them. Maybe Greg had a point about that, too. Attan wasn’t a very good physical friend. He’d rather be friends with the elementals.

Attan woke in the middle of the night with a bright idea. He wondered why it had taken him so long to think of it. Gathering shadow, he shaped it into a boy-sized body complete with blanket. The real blanket he stuffed under the bed. It would have weighed his shadow down anyway. In the darkness, his illusion held. With relief, and a last guilty glance at Greg sleeping soundly in the next bed, Attan turned to wind.

He sped through the tunnels surrounded by free elementals, sharing their joy at just existing. He didn’t really have a destination in mind, except away, but he found himself heading towards the Eastern Sea. It was far—for a physical being. Attan found that he could travel there much faster as pure light rather than wind. Copying his friends the free elementals, Attan became the striated colored lights that lined the caverns, traveling with them through ever narrowing tunnels until he reached the sea.

He stood on the edge of the great Eastern Sea, gazing out at white-capped waves beneath a violet sky which curved down to the sea like a bowl. It reminded him eerily of Emma’s wave carving, the same deep colors fading to white, the same gently curving shape which still managed to convey immense power. He wondered if he walked around the entire edge of Attania, would he find his world encased in this giant bowl?

What he didn’t find was a reason, aside from the eerie similarity to Emma’s carving, why Tom or even Daniel wanted to see the Eastern Sea. It was beautiful, but empty, completely empty. As Attan watched, the violet sky gradually lightened into a dusky blue. He realized he’d have to hurry if he wanted to make it back before Greg discovered he’d been tricked.

Attan’s gaze snagged on the choppy sea. Bands of color fanned out from a single point behind Attan, and again from several more tiny points along the shore, to light the sea in widening swaths. Where they intersected, colors swirled madly and then abruptly cut off, disappearing beneath a white crest of foam. In seconds, it was over. The sun now hugged the lip of the bowl, casting yellow light across the waves and chasing the fading bands of colors back into their caves.

Attan didn’t know what it all meant, except that it was beautiful. He transformed to light and followed the colored bands along their rock walls towards the underground Parrion. He was very late, and only hoped that Parrion’s artificial dawn was slightly later than the actual dawn. No such luck. Attan eased into the shadow body and took form, but Greg’s bed was empty. Yawning as a wave of delayed fatigue hit him, Attan sat up, reaching under his bed for the abandoned blanket and pulling it close around him. He sighed. Sleep would only delay the inevitable.

Attan went downstairs to meet his fate. He was surprised when only Greg sat at the breakfast table, picking apart a thick roll. Greg pushed the basket of sweet rolls towards him. Attan took one but he didn’t eat it. “Are you mad at me?”

Greg looked up from beneath ragged bangs. “What for? Because you lied to me? Because I had to lie for you?” He yanked another chunk off his roll and stuffed it savagely in his mouth. “You came back, so I guess they were wrong,” he mumbled between chews. “You didn’t turn into a mindless elemental. I almost wish you had.”

“You lied for me?” Attan asked, glossing over the rest of what Greg had said. “Why?”

Greg rolled his eyes as if to say Attan was an idiot. He picked up his plate and carried it to the small sink. Attan followed him.

“Don’t you want to know where I went?” Attan asked later, when they were on their way to the one-rail. Apparently, Greg was going to pretend nothing had happened.

“No.” Greg answered shortly.

Attan told him anyway. “I went to the Eastern Sea!”

Greg stopped. “Now I know you’re lying.”

“No, really. I went as light . . . .” Attan stopped talking as they approached the one-rail terminus, which was already crowded with waiting passengers. Among them was Tom Jadock with two or three of his men, as usual.

Tom insinuated himself between Greg and Attan, grinning conspiratorially. “I heard the Enforcer is coming any day now. He’s your relative, isn’t he, Little Prince?” He glanced around to make sure the other Sons of Men on the platform heard him. “Imagine, the Enforcer here, in the Son’s stronghold. Years ago, that never would have happened.” Tom nudged one of his buddies. “Some of us wish it still hadn’t. Just kidding.” He grinned at the surrounding Sons. “Actually, I’m looking forward to meeting the Enforcer. I’ve heard so much about him.”

Attan wasn’t looking forward to Merrell’s visit at all. It meant he’d have to leave the underground Parrion soon. He glanced at Greg, who had realized it, too. The one-rail breezed into the station with barely a sigh, and Attan took his seat, grateful that, unlike buses and trains, seats on the one-rail were only built for one. Greg sat across the small aisle from him, leaving Tom and his crew to find seats farther back. Greg leaned across. “That’s why Ben and Daniel were looking for you this morning,” he whispered. “I said you were still sleeping.” He paused, then leaned closer. “Did you really go to the Eastern Sea?”

“I told you I did. Why would I lie?”

They rode the rest of the way to the fields in silence. The one-rail traveled much more swiftly than an ordinary subway train, depositing them at the fields to the east of New Parrion before the sun had a chance to heat up the atmosphere. Later, when it became unbearable, Attan would herd some clouds in to block the strong rays and perhaps provide a refreshing shower, as much for the workers as for their crops. It was why he was a part of their team. It was simple work, but fulfilling. Attan enjoyed moving dirt and sparking seeds to growth even more than working the weather. He could have grown the entire crop in a day but that’s not what the people of Parrion, above and below, wanted. They wanted a helping hand, but then they wanted nature to take its course. They were looking for long-term change, not a quick, temporary solution. And they were right.

He caught Greg gazing to the east, towards where the sea glistened just past a last swell of hills. He couldn’t possibly see it from this angle, but that didn’t stop him from trying. Attan caught Greg looking across the field at a pretty young Sons of Men girl just as often. He’d seen her the last few times they had come to this area.

“Come on,” Attan said, pulling Greg after him. “I’ve got to loosen the earth over there next.” He didn’t, but it was a good excuse. Greg didn’t protest too loudly when he saw where Attan was heading. “Hello,” Attan said to the girl when they were close enough. “My name’s Attan. This is my friend Greg Jadock. What’s your name?”

Greg turned three shades of red, but the girl, who had golden-red hair which curled around her shoulders, smiled at them. She put down the bucket she was carrying and held out her hand. It was covered with dirt. “Glad to finally meet you. I’m Jennifer Steeves. My dad works with Ben, so I know who you are.”

Greg grabbed her outstretched hand and shook it vigorously. “Hi, I’m Greg.”

“I know,” Jennifer said, smiling. “I think it’s wonderful what you boys are doing. You work together so well.”

Attan and Greg glanced at each other. They did? “Ah, I’ve got to get these fields ready,” Attan said, gesturing vaguely to his right where there were no fields, technically. He could remedy that. “Maybe Greg can help you finish up here?”

He didn’t wait for them to agree, but moved off to the bare patch of land which had more rocks than soil. It wasn’t a simple matter of moving the rocks aside. Some of them extended into the bedrock below. Attan enlisted earth elementals to break up the surface rocks into a fine dust which he spun into a cloud and deposited on the far end of his new field. He gathered water elementals from the air itself to saturate the patch while he himself went deep into the earth, turning the soil as he went, to bring up rich, dark earth suitable for planting. Air elementals stole seeds from the buckets of various non-family planters, including Jennifer’s, to seed the newly turned land. Attan called rain so his little seedlings could grow, letting his rain soak the entire area where the Sons of Men worked diligently to coax along new plants. He stopped when he realized everybody else had stopped working and was staring at him.

Tom pushed his way forward, hands on hips. “Up to your old tricks again, are you, Little Prince? I thought you told me there were no spirits here.”

“There aren’t!” Attan protested. “There’s just free elementals—they’re not the same . . .” He realized Tom didn’t know there was a difference between what he called “spirits” and the rest of the free elementals throughout Attania. He did now—and by now he must realize that only Attan could communicate with them.

Tom got a calculating look in his eyes. “So they’re here, right now? You can get them to do whatever you want?”

Attan wouldn’t say whatever. He didn’t actually order the free elementals to do anything. It was more that he thought of something and then it was their idea, too. With Midver’s elementals, there was a little more comprehension behind the process, but essentially it was the same.

“What’s going on here?” The supervisor for this stretch of field came over. “This isn’t part of the area we marked out. It was too rocky. . .” He stared around in amazement. “What did you do?”

Attan shrugged. “I extended the field. I thought you could use a little more land.” That wasn’t the reason, but it was all Attan could think of on short notice. Greg and Jennifer had made their way to the front of the group, too. Attan gave them a weak smile.

The supervisor clapped Attan on the back. “Great job! I had no idea Family could do that!” He meant such detailed destruction. Any royal could destroy out of hand. Building was another matter. Attan was uneasy with all the attention. The supervisor took over, however, assigning certain people to start working in Attan’s new field. “Can you bring back the sun?” The supervisor asked Attan, shading his eyes from the light rain which continued to fall.

Attan was glad to do so, snapping his own clothes dry with a thought while everybody else waited for the sun to dry them off. The supervisor ordered everyone back to work. Greg and Jennifer remained in Attan’s field, leaving Attan wondering what he was supposed to do now. He didn’t like the way Tom was looking at him, and edged around to the path which led back to the one-rail. Tom followed, for once leaving his entourage behind.

“Hold on, I want to talk to you,” Tom said, grabbing for Attan’s arm. Attan managed to avoid him, but he stopped so he wouldn’t look like he was running away. A breeze kicked up, swirling dust around the two of them. Attan wasn’t doing it.

“Now’s not a good time,” he murmured, looking up expectantly.

“You’ve been avoiding me,” Tom said, stepping even closer. He stumbled as a gust of wind pushed him back, and glared at Attan. Before he could accuse the boy of using his elemental powers on him, two solid bodies formed in the space between Tom and Attan.

Daniel and Merrell faced Tom Jadock, Daniel with an easy grin and Merrell with his usual frown. “Who are you?” Merrell grunted. “And what do you want with the Prince?”

Tom blanched, but only for an instant. Merrell had that sort of an effect on people. He stepped forward and offered his hand to the Enforcer. “My name is Thomas Jadock,” he said. “Pleased to finally meet you. The Prince and I,” he glanced at Attan. “are friends.”