Ascension Saga: 4. Grace Goodwin
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“You know nothing, female,” he hissed, spittle flying from his mouth. “Not my name, nor the identity of my master. You have no idea where you are.”
That was true, and not true. I knew I was being transported off this ship. I knew we were orbiting above my home plant of Alera. And I knew that my daughters continued to defy the odds and survive. And keep peace on Alera. Was he truly that surprised by my words?
“Have you not thought this through? What did you think would happen to you in the end?” I asked.
“And what do you think will happen to you if my master does not acquire the royal jewels?”
I gave a bland shrug. “It no longer matters.” That was also the truth. My daughters’ spires were lit above the royal city. The entire planet knew of their existence, and their place in line to the throne. Trinity, Faith and Destiny. They each knew where the royal jewels had been hidden. There was no way I would betray my people and hand over such a powerful symbol to an enemy.
“Perhaps not. But since you won’t cooperate with me, you’re being relocated—to a less hospitable prison.”
I could only imagine. There were ancient dungeons beneath almost every family palace as well as the police and Optimus unit. Also, larger temples run by the Clerical Order. Dozens of possibilities pushed to the front of my mind, all equally likely and impossible to monitor from the outside.
But at least I’d be on the ground on Alera.
Standing on shaky legs, I crossed my arms and remained silent.
He chuckled as he walked off the platform toward the control panel that would send me goddess knew where. All I could do was lift my chin and hope for the best.
I would not give up the jewels. They were a powerful symbol of sovereignty, passed down generation after generation from the original queen of Alera. They were thousands of years old, and had graced the neck of every queen since our history began.
No ruler could appease the people without the black gemstones proudly around her neck. The gems had been fashioned into a necklace, designed for female rulers, and I knew, one day, they would rest against Trinity’s warm skin and would sing to her in welcome, as they had to me, part of the citadel’s life force, or energy, or awareness. I never truly understood exactly what lived in the citadel’s walls, or perhaps, the ultimate term would be spirit. The spirit of the gems would sing to her in welcome.
They would not sing for a stranger, nor for anyone deemed unworthy.
They would be categorically useless to anyone who stole them, or wore them if they did not have royal blood.
But as a symbol to the people? I could think of nothing on Earth that was powerful enough to compare. A queen without these gems was like the mighty comic book heroine, Wonder Woman, without her sword and golden lasso. The people would resist accepting anyone as their ruler without one of the spires at the citadel coming to life.
But, even if my enemies could convince the people that they had no choice, that all true royal females were dead, they would never accept the absence of the royal jewels.
Hard to break thousands of years of tradition and crown a king, especially without the iconic symbol of power around his neck. A male? Wearing the jewels?
Never. I had seen to that. And now my daughters would carry the bloodline, defend our planet. The citadel would help them. They would become powerful beyond what these fools could even imagine. The three of them together? Unstoppable. .
I stood tall as the blinding cold agony of transport enveloped my body.
The last thing I saw and heard over the hum of the machines was the scarred man’s laughter.
But I would laugh last, from this life or the next. Of that, I was certain.
1
Faith, the Jax mansion
I hoped my sisters fared better than I did. A princess, a maid and a nun. What a combination.
Trinity was all over the news on the screens. The dress she had on the day she went public was spectacular. She’d never worn her hair in much other than a braid or ponytail, but as she walked up the stairs of our mother’s palace, she looked like a queen.
She looked so beautiful that I’d cried, and I rarely cried. And if that hadn’t been enough, Zel, the unconscious guard we’d saved that first night turned out to be a really, really bad guy and had kidnapped her at her big welcome-to-the-throne reception. He’d almost gotten away with it, too. Boy, did I cry after that. It was one thing to know there might be some danger, but actual, real threats and bad guys? I freaked. Cried, then cried some more. But I had to stop, to pull up my big girl, princess panties. So now I found it much easier to make a joke and move on.
Move on. That had been my life motto until my sisters and I came to Alera. Now I was a prisoner of my own design. A servant in the Jax household. The place that was under Optimus unit investigation because of Zel. That, too, was all over the news. And it made me a little nervous since I was snooping around where other people were investigating. I was not CIA trained and wasn’t doing all that well at my mission.
“Bring me another drink, would you, dear? I’m about to die of thirst.” Lord Jax, the elder—as I liked to think of him—had his feet up in front of the fireplace in his office, despite the fact that he was fully dressed in riding gear from his late afternoon outing, and he had two creatures that looked like very large cats with zebra stripes lounging in his lap. “And some of those little snacks, too.”
He held his empty cup into the air and I took it from him. “Of course, my lord.” The cat creatures were fascinating and gorgeous, and they didn’t purr—exactly. But the sound reminded me of an idling diesel engine, just not quite as loud, nor smelled as bad.
Carrying the cup to a sideboard, I filled the glass—not with water, which would have actually quenched his thirst—but with wine. The lord did enjoy his wine. And his pets. And bragging about his son, the magnificent, perfect paragon of all male specimens. To hear the older man speak, you’d think his son, Thordis Jax, was on a level with Superman himself.
I’d seen a portrait in the hall. And yes, he was gorgeous. More like the actor who played Captain America in the movies back home than the dark-haired Adonis from Krypton. But I’d never met the prodigal son. And I had no desire to, especially since I’d learned he’d grown up with Zel, been BFFs as kids. He lived in his own home on the other side of the city which was just fine with me. If he was as intelligent and attentive as his father claimed, I’d never get all my tasks done in this house just ogling him. But he could be a traitor. Anyone in this house could be out to finish off my family.
I stuck to the tasks I’d been hired to do. These tasks included staying under the radar and hunting down a traitor.
No biggie, right? For a princess disguised as a serving wench. Actually, it wasn’t all bad, and no one had ever used the word wench. I didn’t have to wear a rough cotton dress and scrub laundry until my fingers cracked and bled. They took great advantage of their advanced technology. The Spontaneous Matter Generators, or S-Gen units, created new clothing from nothing every day. Perfectly sized. Clean, which meant there was no laundry to do. No food to clean up. The S-Gen recycled on an atomic level, breaking down everything into a basic unit of energy, the building blocks for the next item that might be requested.
I was a servant. A maid. I served. God forbid these nobles had to actually walk over to the S-Gen unit and order something for themselves. But the wine? That was special. Imported from a planet called Atlan, or so I’d been told.
The lady of the house had very clearly informed me that no one of any worth drank wine from an S-Gen unit.
Fuck that. I’d