“Can’t we send in Protectors?” I asked. “Can’t they put a stop to the riots?”
“Maybe,” Raad said, but it sounded a lot like a question. “The problem is that too many players have come onto the stage. With the KS3 virus ravaging Nurlie, all the little weasels have come out of their holes. The Gurnots have taken up arms on the mainland and on the island, inciting both sides of the conflict to all-out war. They’ve brought tech with them, high-end stuff that they shouldn’t have. I’m talking laser clubs, proton beams, mobile incinerators. We sent a legion of Protectors to the island, and they were disabled in just a few minutes, their circuits fried by camouflaged Gurnots with laser clubs.”
Raad groaned. “And don’t even get me started on the fires. Whole squads of Protectors have been melted into mercury by an unknown assailant while the last few luxury retreats in Surrvul have gone up in flames, all of them belonging to clan heirs or heiresses. I know the media calls the arsonist the Dragon, and I’m starting to wonder if it isn’t true, if it isn’t a flesh and blood dragon.”
While Raad explained, I divided my visin screen in half and turned on the news. P2 drones were recording the pandemonium in the streets of Nurlie and on the island. There were flyrarcs crashing and smoldering in buildings, waves of demonstrators waving the island’s flag and throwing bricks at the barricade of Protectors, sick people dying in the streets. It was absolute carnage.
“I can’t believe this,” I said. “Who’s responsible? Who’s given them such high-tech weapons? I thought weapons were reserved for the Askas and highest level of Battle Protectors, the P5 Protectors.”
“They are,” Raad said, and I could tell he was mad by the growl in his voice. “But one of my inside sources told me Surrvul’s new clan leaders are funding the rebels and maybe even the Gurnots. It sounds to me like this could have been in development for a long time. It could also be an opportunistic move by the eldest of the Surrvul Clan, who took power last month. Everyone knows they want the crown with a violent passion. I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re trying to cause so much global turmoil that you and Zawne are forced to step down. Or worse, they could be planning an invasion of the Gaard continent and global war.”
“They’d never,” I said. I was aghast. Not only was a deadly virus on the loose, but now I had enemies, and they were mobilizing. They could be coming after me and my husband. I had never even wanted to be the stupid queen. It was supposed to have been Lordin’s job!
“They might,” Raad said. “And there’s another issue. The Protectors. Their armor plating is produced in—yup, you guessed it—Surrvul. They’ve been stockpiling the phosphorus we need to manufacture the armor, and the mines in Shondur are almost all dried up. There’s nothing left. If Surrvul has been giving anti-Protector weaponry to the rebels, and the rebels start to win the fight, we won’t be able to build any more Protectors. It’ll be like ancient times. It’ll be war like the world hasn’t seen in five hundred years. The streets will run red with the blood of our people.”
“Unacceptable,” I said. “All of this. It’s all unacceptable. We need to put an end to the referendum in Nurlie before they start a war. We need to start restricting Surrvul’s access to our precious minerals. We need to take away the Gurnots’ weapons. We need to put a stop to whoever is burning down half the world, before they reach Gaard and burn down the palace. And we need to find a cure for this disease before it wipes out everyone in Geniverd.”
“All in forty-eight hours,” Raad said with a hollow, hopeless laugh.
I thanked him for the information and ended the call. I was at my wits’ end. Where did I go from here? I had to save the world, but how? I couldn’t even get my own husband to look me in the eye!
Chapter 13
Everything had spiraled out of control. It was about time I made it back to Shiol. By the time I ended the call with Raad, it was only four in the afternoon, but I recalled that the Crown of Crowns had told me I could take an emergency nap if I ever needed to speak with them. Well, if this wasn’t an emergency, I didn’t know what was.
I lay on the sofa, let fatigue overtake me …
And Zawne called me. My visin bleeped, and I saw his name on the display. “Oh, great,” I said. “Here we go. Hello, Zawne,” I said, sitting upright so we could talk face-to-face.
He looked upset. I could tell he was emotional. He said, “I’m sorry,” and I was taken aback. Really, Zawne was sorry? Sorry for what?
Then again, if Zawne wanted to make amends, I was okay with that. “I’m sorry too,” I said. “I’m sorry I kept secrets from you. It was wrong, I know.”
“And I’m sorry I was distant,” he said. “I’m sorry I lashed out at you. It wasn’t right. Our ex-lovers showed up as Min. We were both confused and conflicted, torn between two worlds. The fact is, Kaelyn, I love you. And we’re both here in the real world. It took this whole KS3 fiasco for me to realize how important you are to me. The world’s falling apart, and all I can think about is you.”
Zawne had left me speechless. I moved my mouth, unable to make a sound. I wished he were beside me
