It was the first time in almost fifty years that the exile walked on this ground. Now unwelcome, Burton decided to go in secret. He pulled the hood of his robe over his head low enough to shadow his face. If someone recognized him, they might blame him for the disaster. Stories of his powers had been twisted to make people believe he was mad so they would fear him.
Nothing about the disaster appeared natural to Burton. It didn’t make any sense that the Noahl River, one that ran alongside the kingdom, would swell a mile inland within a matter of minutes and without warning from the docks. There hadn’t been a storm or rain on the island for weeks, and the ground hadn’t rumbled in over a year. And as an angel among men, Burton knew it was not a god-sent intervention. The second sign to the Fall of Mankind flashed before his eyes: Water.
I hope Montague is safe, Burton thought. His farm would have been destroyed first. His student’s property was just south of the capital, near merging rivers, where the soil was richest.
The sight strangled his heart. Even an incarnated being of divine light was affected by human emotion, influenced by anger and jealousy, vulnerable to temptation and desire, and destined for death. After living through more than five lives of men, the death that surrounded him was a morbid reminder of physical mortality and his own weakening body.
Burton found it a strange coincidence that this freak incident had happened only days after he’d secretly inspected the farms, trying to understand the recent delivery of spoiled meat and moldy grain. For months, people had been experiencing mild to fatal reactions including headaches, fevers, vomiting, or boils, and, in severe cases, rapid death. But the toxin took days before the infected evinced any symptoms, and that delayed effect made it difficult for Burton to link the sickness to the food.
After the wizard had inspected farmer Ben Paddett’s fields for signs of poison or any kind of dangerous chemical composition, he came up with not a trace, just as he did at all the other farms. But there he’d felt a strange presence. Although Ben had appeared to be inside clearing food from his table while Burton navigated the maze of crops, someone or something seemed to be watching him. When Burton had scraped the last corn stalk for analysis, Ben’s dogs came running out from the house after him. Burton was sure that the farmer knew someone had been searching his property.
Now, stamping through dried clumps of algae and mounds of mud, Burton neared the central pillar of the castle. He noticed his old friend at the edge of the retaining wall along the garden walkway. The soil had poured out from a collapsed portion of the interlocking stones.
It puzzled Burton, given the circumstances, to see his former student Demitri Von Cobb, one of the three ministers of science, conducting experiments. As Burton approached, he heard the minister reciting instructions beneath his breath as he cut into the serrated skin of a large gumworm. The bulbous worm was as long as the minister’s forearm. Its skin was scaly between jagged spines.
The anger in Demitri’s voice was guttural and he ground his teeth.
“My friend,” Burton said, clearing the silence.
Demitri remained focused on his knife as he navigated the worm’s internal organs. “Where were you?” he asked coldly.
“You know where I’ve been. I—” Burton began.
“No. I mean, where were you? Didn’t you see this coming?” Demitri’s voice got louder.
Burton couldn’t even answer the question. He hadn’t seen the event coming. And this worried him. After living so long in the same body, his abilities had grown weak. After the body failed, the mind would soon follow, and then he would surely be forced to reincarnate. Even if he was able to reenter the planet, it would take at least six years of physical development before his mind could even begin to remember why he had been sent there. Without the defense of divine power, the Nekrums could rape and conquer the world of Naan in one night.
“The king—Where is the king?” Burton asked, hoping for a quick answer.
Demitri turned back and faced him, sneering. “Where is the king?” he repeated, giggling softly. “I never thought that would be a question you would ever have to ask, my old sensei. How about the queen? Want to know where she is too?” His voice tightened.
Demitri’s wry tone made Burton fear the worst.
“They’re dead,” Demitri said. “Dead.”
The words nearly took the life right out of Burton. His knees began to shake. “And the princess?” he asked. The seconds before Demitri replied felt like a lifetime.
“She’s alive. Gretchen and the other castle servants took her to the belvedere of the castle tower just before the water breached the kingdom walls. They haven’t come down since.” Demitri went right back to looking through his eyeglass at the worm’s insides.
When Burton heard those words, he was relieved—a royal Volpi lives. Although he’d spent generations among the royal family and would grieve them like members of his own, he didn’t feel completely defeated. The twenty-three-year-old princess was safe. She was one of the main reasons Burton Lang had descended to the planet: to protect and defend the Volpi bloodline and the existence of Man.
“What happened?” Burton asked. He massaged his eyes, trying to clear the confusion in his mind.
Demitri rose to his feet. “When the rumbling began, I thought at first it was thunder. So I came outside to look and I saw Montague. I thought it was quite curious to see him on Capital Hill. I knew something was wrong. The river came
