The Talamute Prince

Patrick is extremely quiet at dinner, not even saying anything about how I’m dressed. After dinner, I make my way to my room and beat the maids back. I quickly change into something easier to move in and grab the panel from between my mattresses.

I quickly find my room and search the display. To my surprise, one of the passages the boy talked about is just beneath my bed, which is weird and terrifying, honestly. It makes me think that this wasn’t originally meant to be a room but was turned into one so Patrick could trick me again.

I slide beneath my bed and pull a latch that opens a panel leading into a crawl space big enough for me to fit into. As I lower myself into the space, I hold the panel and close the hatch behind me so that hopefully nobody follows.

I use the map to maneuver through the walls all the way into the prison area. I peek out of a vent in the lower part of the wall. Patrick is bent over a table against a wall opposite a prison cell. There’s a force field as the door to the cell. I can’t see into the cell, but I sit silently, waiting to see what’s going on.

I really want to talk to the prisoner. If his partner will not give me a real answer, then I will get one from the prisoner. I keep the map open, following each ladder and bend that the passageway takes me on. I see now why the boy said that only people like him can get through here. I am small myself, but these passageways are made for children, or men with a childlike stature.

I make my way down into the center of the bottom of the room where the prisoner is kept.

“He’s still not awake, sire. I’ve tried everything I know to wake him, but your last swing will not be undone,” a man in the room where they beat the prisoner says.

I wait patiently for the two to finish talking. Although, I’m not sure I want to know any more qualities the monster I was tricked into marrying has.

“I don’t care when he wakes,” Patrick says. “Come and get me. And this time we’ll do it here. Laoonica witnessed the interrogation, and with everything I’ve already done to her as far as lying to get her here, I don’t need her to be afraid of me. I will never win her back if she thinks I’m some sort of monster.”

I stifle a chuckle at the irony of his words. He is far too late to stop that image from forming, but he is right, I’ll never let him back in.

“Sire, perhaps she shouldn’t be allowed so many freedoms.”

I listen in grotesque hatred as those words hit my ears.

“No, she is my queen, not a prisoner. If she is treated as such, she’ll only resent me. Unless I earn her heart, then I’m going to die long before she does. I don’t wish to pass her on like a family heirloom or title.” Patrick pauses, and I think he might have heard me move to get more comfortable, but he doesn’t look at the vent. He just looks as if he’s deep in thought.

“I don’t think he’ll be awake anytime soon. Perhaps Your Majesty should get some rest for when the prisoner does so that you can be refreshed when you beat him again.” The man watches Patrick, like a bird ready to fly at the pounce of a cat.

“I need to look over some other projects. They’re kind of important.” Patrick pushes off the table he was leaning on and straightens his shirt before walking off, with the others in hot pursuit.

I wait a few more minutes as they walk past the vent and go up the platform.

I finally get a look around as I gently and slowly push the vent out of my way. I make sure the coast is clear. To my surprise, there aren’t any guards in the area. Given the cell’s location and design of the force field, they’re not too worried about intruders or escapees. Or perhaps the lack of guards is because they haven’t taken many prisoners.

The purple man is stretched out on his back. He almost looks dead. His face is swollen, and there are cuts and blood everywhere. This isn’t what I had in mind when I asked for his life to be spared.

“Hello,” I say quietly. I still don’t trust that someone isn’t listening, but my eagerness to know the meaning of this flower pushes me forward. I don’t expect him to respond since they just said he is unconscious.

“Permintia,” the Talamute says as he sits up and faces me.

I jump. Only his right eye can open enough to see.

I touch the force field’s current, knowing it won’t hurt me, well, not too much anyway. I feel a tingling in my hand, but I push, and sure enough, my hand passes through with just a bit of a shock that I wince from and ignore.

“Impossible.” He comes closer to where I am.

I pull my hand back and look at it to make sure there are no adverse effects. “Why do you call me that?”

He studies my hand. “It’s a flower that grows below. You had one in your hair in the throne room.” He seems to be talkative. I am right about compassion versus anger.

“Your friend told me that much. Why does he keep showering me with them?”

The Talamute smiles. I cringe when I see his pointed teeth.

“He likes you,” he says.

I sort of figured as much by the last few visits. I bring my fingers to my lips as I think about our kiss.

“You like him too,” he says.

I drop my hand to my side quickly.

“He doesn’t know anything about me, or he would change his mind. He shouldn’t be so bold in his attempts to see me. He has more than once found his way to me in the castle, infiltrating levels he shouldn’t be able to reach.” I want to heal the poor man, but I’m not sure how to get close to him so that I can. He isn’t as scary and as threatening as I remembered.

“We came up to see the new king the day you spotted us in the crowd. The minute the prince laid eyes on you, he knew he would do whatever it took to see you smile. To make you feel the love you deserve. We Talamute believe in something we call iamino caniothia inomiathia. It is the language of the gods, and no one understands its translation completely, but it is written in the halls of wisdom under the depiction of man and woman laying together.” He isn’t really giving me much to go on.

I wish I could see it for myself. Maybe I could figure it out. “He believes we’re meant to be together?”

It’s more of a rhetorical question but the man still answers.

“Yes, my prince believes yours is the soul he is destined to serve.” He gazes back at me.

Why is it that this prince of the Talamutes thinks such nonsense? Is it nonsense? Is he the one I was meant to find here, the one my father told me to come for?

As I stare, my curiosity gets the better of me. I must know. “Why are your teeth like that?” I glance at the platform to assure it isn’t coming down. I didn’t mean for the words to come flying from my mouth, yet he seems all too eager to answer.

“I’m a warrior in my tribe. It’s an honor, and it adds the appearance of ferocity to frighten our enemy. All warriors must go through the process of stone sharpening their own teeth in order to gain warrior status. It’s painful and dangerous because of the bleeding that occurs but well worth the respect we gain. My friend is royalty and is required to look more appealing to entice peace.”

I close my eyes and take a step forward, passing through the barrier with only a slight tingling sensation entering my body. As far as I can tell, no alarms go off. I open my eyes to see the Talamute looking at me with his head tilted in curiosity.

“Why did you try to kill Patrick?” I ask, looking into his eyes. The man is still entranced by the notion of me walking right through the force field.

“Why are you so eager to be in a cage with an assassin?” He doesn’t flinch as I touch his face.

“It’s not a man who openly admits his guilt that I fear, but one who hides his crimes behind a mask of lies and laws.” A soft glow comes to my hand. As I do, the bruises and wounds left by my husband and his men heal quickly.

Upon seeing the results of my touch, the man falls to the floor, with his knees bent under him and his face to the ground on top of his hands. “Gomania, forgive my arrogance.”

I bend down and pull his face to mine. He seems not so much fearful as he is in awe.

“What is that?” I ask.

“It is you, my goddess,” he replies, looking into my eyes.

“I’m no goddess. I’m Laoonica, and I am just a woman cursed with the powers of chaos and creation. I have little control over what I do. This is one of the things I can do, but it does not make me a god. All it does is weaken me as the exertion of my powers always does.” I help him to his feet and then pass through the force field.

“You may not know who you are yet, but you are the embodiment of Gomania. And we’ve been awaiting your return to our people.”

I smile at him. “You have your beliefs, and it is good to stick by them. I am sorry I cannot do more for you.”

He steps up to the force field. “Can you tell my daughter, Tasha, I’m coming to free her?”

How can he possibly free her while he’s trapped in here?

“Is she why you tried to kill Patrick?” He hasn’t answered my question from before.

“Yes, tell her we shall all be free soon,” he insists.

“Why?” I glance back to make sure I haven’t overstayed.

“Her mother was a Raspite. She was killed for loving me, and our daughter was taken into the castle to serve as a punishment and a way to control my vengeance. The old king let me see her. Patrick told me he would kill her and stopped her from coming to see me.”

I stare through the force field between us.

“He told her he would skin me alive in front of her if he didn’t get the answers he sought. He is a cruel man, who doesn’t deserve to rule.” He grins. I’m surprised his teeth haven’t healed from my touch, but perhaps it’s because it’s an old injury and I focused on the new ones. I feel my head spinning, but I won’t let him see me weak.

“I’m sorry, but I won’t lie to her. She has become my friend, and I won’t put the idea in her head that you’re coming to free her.” I crawl into the hole in the wall and pick up the panel where I left it inside in case I was caught. Patrick will know I visited the prisoner due to his miraculous healing and probably video surveillance of the room, but I received more than the answers I sought.

I make my way to my room, open the hatch, and peek out to see if anyone is there. No one is in sight. After I climb out, I slide the piece into place. I then hide the panel between the mattresses on the side I don’t sleep on. I open the shower, shocked to find it empty. The maids must have cleaned it out. I hope it was them and not Patrick.

What would he do if he knew all that has been going on behind his back?