The Cup of Queens

By Karri Thompson

Time is running out . . .

Before long, every Landaffin colony will be exposed, explored, and exploited by humans, resulting in devastating consequences. Laura remains t

• Language: English
• Publisher: Krutz and Ink Publishing
• Release date: Oct 4, 2022
• ISBN: 9781732373174

Book preview

CHAPTER 1

T he ocean does not appear to end, Brell said. It is beautiful. Dangerous—but beautiful.

In first-class on this airplane, passengers sat in pairs. I felt bad about Todd throwing down for four first-class tickets, but he’d insisted, and I enjoyed the little bit of privacy it gave us. I leaned across Brell’s chest to take a peek out the window, and he drew his arm around my back. I cuddled against him, nuzzling my head under his chin.

The water below was deep blue. Surface waves, glistening silver as they lapped, reflected the morning sun. Wispy clouds spread across the horizon like stretched cotton, and behind us, the shore was nothing more than a thick line of green. I twisted back into my seat and rested my head on his side.

Thriss and Todd were behind us. The last time I’d looked, they were shoulder to shoulder, and Thriss was asleep, leaving me to assume she’d taken a dose of that powdery sleeping medicine she’d brought with her.

Benign and tranquil from where we sit in the sky, but I know there is much to fear when it comes to the earth’s seas, Brell said. Strong winds, rough water, rip currents, high waves, sharks, animals that sting, and there is always the risk of drowning.

The plane shook, a light bumpity bump. Brell straightened his back and took my hand, interlocking his trembling fingers with mine. 

It’s just turbulence, I said. Air currents rippling around the plane as the plane passes through them. It’s totally normal. It happens when there’s a change in air temperature or air pressure.

The plane settled, and he exhaled slowly while loosening his grip. You do not fear flight. But do you fear the ocean? he asked, nodding toward the window.

No. As long as there isn’t a storm, so the waves aren’t too rough, and there aren’t any rip currents, I’m good.

And you are not afraid to be in the water with sharks and fish with sharp barbs and jelly legs that sting? Brell asked, his eyes wandering toward the window where the sea lay endlessly beneath the plane.

Nope, I said with a smile. Shark attacks are rare, and sting rays and jellyfish can’t kill you unless you’re allergic to the venom or develop a life-threatening infection or something and don’t seek medical attention in time. Or if it’s a box jellyfish. Their venom’s deadly. But they don’t live where I used to go to. I sighed, shifting my seat. It’s been a long time since I’ve been to the beach.

Why has it been so long?

Every summer I used to spend two weeks in Los Angeles with my cousins, Kimberly and Tristan, and we’d go almost every day. My uncle has a sailboat, so on the weekends, he’d take us sailing, and one summer we went whale watching, too. But I don’t really talk to them anymore, so…

The skin on Brell’s forehead crinkled as he tried to understand. Why do you and your cousins no longer speak to one another?

Their dad, my Uncle Mark, is my dad’s brother. After the divorce, my mom and I kinda lost touch with that side of the family. It’s a bummer. My Uncle Mark isn’t anything like my dad. He’s a family man. He coaches Kimberly’s soccer team, and every year, they go on a big trip to Disney World. He doesn’t take off with his buddies every weekend like my dad did.

Your father has done things a father should not do, but he is still the male who helped give you life. I understand that his behavior has made you unsure of his ability to be a proper parent, but you should not ignore his intentions if he tries to make contact with you again.

He won’t. He didn’t even call me on my birthday. I slumped farther into my seat, rounding my back until my chin hit my chest.

Did you not say he was on a boat? I do not think he could contact you from there, Brell said.

Yeah, he’s in Alaska, crab fishing by the Aleutian Islands, but still, I think he could have found a way to call me. I haven’t heard from him in almost a year. I realized the tone of my voice had taken on a sour note.

You once told me your father is the one who gave you your name.

Yeah, but what does that matter?

For Landaffens, it is customary for the father to decide what the child will be called, he explained. The name often comes to him in a dream. My father dreamt of a fox the night before I gave first breath.

"Breanell," I said.

Yes, that is ‘fox’ in Landaffen.

Does that mean you are sly and cunning? I joked. Brell was definitely neither of those things.

That is an unfair reputation given to them by humans. Foxes are intelligent, inquisitive animals. And it is the only member of the canine family that can climb a tree. It can outwit, but that does not mean it is manipulative. He kissed the top of my head.

My father didn’t have any kind of dream. I sighed. He picked it because he just liked the name. At least that’s what he’s always told me.

I blinked, shifting my eyes from his, and Brell’s grip on my hand increased. He looked out the window again, and I hoped his change in position would change the subject.

He took a breath, inhaling deeply through his nose. The ocean. It is a different color than the water that runs through the Grove. In the Grove, it is clear. I can see the sand and rocks below.

That’s because the river’s shallow. We’re flying over the Gulf of Mexico. The water here is at least a mile deep, if not more.

Yes, I understand a mile. Then it is very deep. The water I have seen in the Grove only comes to here. He leaned forward, placing his open hand parallel to the top of his thighs. I have only seen creatures that live in water without salt and without depth, so it is hard for me to understand water that is undrinkable and vast.

Eighty percent of the earth’s oceans are unexplored, Todd said, speaking through the crack between Brell’s seat and mine. I’d had no idea he’d been listening to us.

Brell twisted in his seat. Yes. There are intelligent creatures living in its depths that have not yet been discovered by humans. And I hope they never will, he said.

What kind of creatures? I asked, shifting forward in my seat. Are there colonies of Landaffens that live under the sea? Like mermaids?

Imagining what one would look like, I pictured a female Landaffen with gills on the sides of her neck just below her pointed ears. She had a sleek, muscular tail tufted with a spray of fan-like fins, something delicate yet strong, like a Chinese fan. Her eyes were bright blue like Brell’s, and her long brown hair, divided into eight sections and braided, rippled in sync with the current.

In the Book of Landaffia, there is no mention of Landaffens who breathe water instead of air, Brell said. Creatures such as these only exist in fictional stories written for children.

Mermaids exist in human fiction stories, too, I said.

But that does not mean highly intelligent beings do not exist in the ocean, Brell continued. "Shayneus and ruffins have cognitive abilities beyond that of many land-dwelling animals. We can only assume that mammals with even higher capabilities inhabit unsearched depths of seas, thriving without the intervention of humans."

I’d had no idea the Landaffens knew anything about sea life. I’d assumed every grove resided in clusters of inland trees and not anywhere near the oceans. I mean, how could a colony live unseen in a grove of sparse palm trees? But then again, I was thinking about the southern west coast. I’d never lived or even been to a coastal town in the northwest part of the United States where I knew lush evergreens grew.

Just like we can’t assume there isn’t life on other planets, Todd said. He’d inched even closer, propping one hand on the back of my chair. What are shayneus and ruffins?

Whales and dolphins, I told him as the English definitions popped into my head without having to think about it.

Yes, Brell said. You have become quite proficient in Landaffen, Laura. You are as fluent as one raised in a grove.

Being with the Tulix for two weeks helped make that happen. They spoke fast and had an accent different from yours. I had to listen hard and fully concentrate in order to keep up with what they were saying.

And I had to do so as well, Brell said. The Tulix’s speech pattern and pronunciation of our language is one I had not heard before.

Shayneus and ruffins, I rattled off, trying to imitate the way a Tulix would say it. Two of my favorite animals. I love elephants, too.

I have seen photographs of sea mammals. They are taught about in our schools.

Last month Brell had taken me to the Wventorin library and showed me their collection of human books, so I knew how he’d seen those photos. He’d explained that each book had been collected from the Berkshire Library’s dumpster by scouts through the years, following the library’s annual purge of outdated and archaic books. I’d pulled an old encyclopedia from the shelf and flipped through its pages, smiling and shaking my head because it was the first time I’d actually seen or held an encyclopedia before.

A shayeu and a ruffin, I would like to meet, Brell said. And maybe a staum if we were not sharing the same water.

Same here, I said. Unless I was in a shark cage. Then I’d do it.

You punch ‘em in the nose, Todd said, giving the back of Brell’s seat a light blow with his fist. That’s how you stop a shark from attacking you. Hit it as hard as you can on its nose, and it will supposedly turn and swim away. I read about it in a blog.

Good to know, I nodded, but hopefully, we’ll never have to find out if it really works.

Yeah, totally, Todd said. He let go of my headrest, and I heard him settle back into his seat.

Sunlight pierced through the window, casting a patch of bright white light against Brell’s face and across his lap. I leaned my head on his shoulder and looked up at him. He didn’t look anything like James Walters, whose passport he’d used. But with his hair color and eye color matching and his height only being an inch off, the TSA agent took a glance and let him through without any hesitation.

Christmas and New Year’s Day had come and gone without any recognition or celebration, other than me missing my mother even more. I went to town on Christmas day, so I could get a signal and call Mom. I sent her a few pictures of me around the city, with signs in the background to give away where I really was in Mexico.

She updated me on how everyone was doing and how much they all wished I’d been there for the holiday. My horse, Molly, was doing just fine. And I told my mom to thank Phyllis again for boarding her for me. But the best news was that Uncle Dean had proposed to Phyllis on Christmas Eve, and Phyllis said yes!

Brell, Todd, Thriss, and me had spent the last six days in the Tulix Grove. Caylent was gone, having mysteriously disappeared right after I’d reset the stone head and fled to do the same in Bonampak. My act of restoring the balance between humankind and Landaffenkind by making the statues in Tulix and Bombanpak whole again was now officially referred to as the setting of the stones and would be noted as such in their histories.

With the resetting of the heads and the balance being restored to the way it was supposed to be, King Hurrlan no longer possessed the ability to use higher magic. From what we could determine, with the heads removed, though the human and Landaffen worlds were technically balanced, it was not balanced the way it was supposed to be. This created some kind of disruption to the energy flow used to conjure higher magic. Because of that rift, others beside me, has been able to learn and use some forms of higher magic.

The king mourned the loss of his special abilities. But he understood that for me to gain the use of all forms of higher magic and be the only one able to do so, the statues needed to be whole.

Prior to that, the king’s higher magic stopped at moving rocks and boulders smaller than the head and utilizing Quick Magic. Even if the Tulix had built an apparatus capable of lifting the massive head on its body, he wouldn’t have been able to make the two pieces become one and permanently fuse together at a chemical level like I’d done.

That’s why Daveen and Caylent needed me. With the head off in the human pyramid and the head fused to its base in Tulix, Daveen’s higher magic would have become even stronger. Now that I’d evened the playing field, I could only assume, that like the king, Daveen could no longer perform Quick Magic.

The day after restoring the head in Tulix, Todd, who’d aced AP Chemistry last school year, gasped while running his hand along a small, chiseled crease separating the head from its body. Amazing! he’d said, eyes wide and mouth remaining open as he continued his inspection. This is Fusion, he explained. You pulled the nuclei of each molecule close enough to fuse together without them repelling. Remarkable. He sighed, shaking his head.

Thanks, I said. I didn’t know it at the time, but apparently, I’d used Light Magic to do that. That’s what King Hurrlan told me.

Every day while Todd and Thriss explored the jungle with scouts, King Hurrlan did his best to teach me how to use higher magic at my will, remembering how his father first taught him when he was a prince.

On one of those occasions, he’d said, I will tell you what my father told me. Common magic comes from here. He pointed to my heart. And it is with you from first breath. Higher magic is learned and developed here. He pointed to my head. Only through patience and practice can it be mastered.

I can do it, I said.

It is a powerful magic. Where there is power, there is peril. Power and peril can lead to corruption. He lowered his chin while keeping his eyes fixed on mine. That is why for the Tulix, the teaching and practice of higher magic has been handed down and limited to our kings and queens. Higher magic must only be used for the protection and betterment of the colony. He dropped his head. For the turn of many seasons, seasons well before my first breath, my father’s first breath, and his father’s first breath, our leaders have understood this and have practiced this code. The king sighed. Until now. He shook his head, and when he looked up, the sparkle in his eyes had faded, and the soft folds at their corners were more pronounced. And for that, I am truly sorry.

I set my hand on the king’s shoulder, and he lifted his head just enough for his eyes to level with mine. When you taught Caylent higher magic, you thought you were helping your colony, I said. You thought I was going to work with humans to destroy you. I can’t blame you for what you did. I might have done the same if I’d been in your position, considering that Caylent is a princess.

My actions were an exchange for her help in luring you here. I did what no king should ever do. Wanting to be recognized for my role in capturing The One of false legends, I put myself before my people. I did not completely understand my father’s words. The power one has over others can be more powerful than having the ability to use higher magic. I understand his lesson now, but it has come too late.

It’s not too late, I reassured.

King Hurrlan shook his head. She has broken her vow to me and has violated the sanctity of higher magic. She has taught it to others. That is the only way her brother could have reached the temple when he did and tried to stop you from restoring the balance.

And now she needs to be stopped before she comes up with another plan, and stopping her is what I’m going to do, I said although my skin prickled with the thought of seeing Caylent and Daveen again.

And I fear what will happen to you if you do. The king shifted his misty eyes from mine. I sense you are fearful, too.

I am, I admitted. But it’s my duty. My fate. And I will do whatever it takes to ensure peace between our people.

Yes, you will. He gave a sure nod. I sense you are afraid, but I also sense determination and perseverance. That is what it will take for you to learn Quick Magic. You are ready for your first lesson.

With my eyes closed and feet firmly against the damp, warm earth, under the king’s tutelage, I’d concentrated, seeing and feeling with all my senses. On the second day, it happened, and I produced the higher magic the Tulix called Move Magic.

A pleasant, yet chilling sensation developed in the pit of my stomach, radiating upward through my core and into my arms and hands. My fingertips warmed and tingled. Light pushed through the skin of my fingertips, shooting into the earth as I kept my hands downward, afraid of what would happen if I concentrated the beams anywhere else while I practiced.

I’d used this type of magic to lift and then bond stones using Light Magic, but other than that, the king and I had no idea what else it could do. Bonding small stones and other natural materials such as wood and plants together became easy. I also practiced using it to raise boulders and even people, the sensation in my fingers vibrating at a different frequency and the light thinning as it went from manipulating the molecular chemistry of objects to making them simply rise and float.

When I brought Brell from death, I’d used a variation of this magic, what the king called Life Magic, a magic so sacred, no Landaffen had been allowed to try and make use of it though many had and failed.

Magic bringing life is mentioned in the Book of Landaffia, the king told me. But times of its use are not documented there or in any other Landaffen histories. Until you, no one believed it was possible, he said gently as he patted my shoulder.

Non-Non, the king’s beloved toucan, died while I was there. Having grown up inside a grove and within the constant whisper of Landaffen magic, Non-Non saw the turn of over twenty-five seasons, living longer than the average toucan, and when King Tulix asked me to bring him from death, I refused.

It would be practice and a good test of your growing skills, he’d said.

But I refused, my stomach sick with the thought of reversing death by playing God. Having the power of a mere mortal shouldn’t have shook me with fright, leaving me constantly questioning why. What made me so special? I didn’t feel special. I didn’t think I was better than any Landaffen or human. I was The One, but I didn’t want the responsibility of deciding who should and shouldn’t escape death.

When I’d saved Brell, it had been solely instinctive, like it was meant to be, because there was a greater purpose he still needed to fulfill. What that was, I didn’t know. It was just something I’ve continued to sense deep in my lapis, my Landaffen soul, giving me comfort in what I’d done, which was what I desperately needed.

Being in Tulix, safe and secure with Brell, gave my mind time to relax and rethink, and in some cases, unfortunately relive all that had happened to me over the last five months. Sometimes when I slept, I’d wake in the middle of the night, my clothes and the hair against my forehead sticky with sweat, and I’d hate myself for not being able to save Dassh from becoming one with the trees.

His face, tight with pain, filled my mind’s eye as he reached out for me, his brows scrunched into flat lines and desperate, blue eyes begging for my help. I had tried, but it didn’t work. Though I continued to beat myself up over it, as instinctively it was for me to save Brell, my intuition told me that it was Dassh’s time, and because of that, I could only assume that was why my magic didn’t work.

Please, bring Non-Non life, King Tulix had moaned in the unique Landaffen accent I had come to understand. He held the limp toucan in his hands. Non-Non’s mouth unhinged, and his head slipped from the king’s forearm.

No, I said. He has seen his turn of seasons. There is no more for him to have.

The king lowered his head and walked away, bringing Non-Non lovingly against his chest. Three steps in, he looked over his shoulder and nodded, letting me know that he understood.

Though I hadn’t mastered Move Magic, I knew enough to practice it on my own. But I still needed to learn quick travel, and Brell, Todd, Thriss, and I agreed to remain in Tulix for only a few more days. Brell couldn’t bear the thought of his parents having to wait one more turn of the moon before knowing he’d been rescued and was alive and well.

King Hurrlan sent a team of scouts to intercept the Wventorins who were on their way to save Brell, but it would be months before they’d cross paths. Then, after turning around to return with the news of Brell’s release, it would take another two months for them to get back to Wventorin. We had to go home. The sooner, the better.

First, begin by working the wind, King Tulix instructed as he stood across from me at the far edge of the grove behind the pyramid.

The soft sound of lapping water rose from the moat as a gentle breeze blew through the grove. A crocodile lay near the water’s edge, basking in the sun. The Lancandon Jungle’s stifling humidity and heat were nowhere near what it was outside the grove, but it was enough to make me sweat under my arms.

Working the wind? I asked.

He nodded. Yes, it is the wind you will become.

I’ll become the wind? I held out my hand, and the dirt and dead leaves at my feet fluttered. You mean my body will actually become air? That sounds scary. My fingers trembled, and the small funnel of leaves I’d created bounced in a jerky spiral.

That is so, he said. Only your lapis will remain.

What if I lose my concentration? What if I can’t stay focused?

He put up his hand. Then the wind will settle. You will return to flesh and bone. But you will not in be in the place you seek, he admitted, lowering his head. Your life energy will be weak. You will need to wait and try again when you are able to bring back the wind.

So, I could end up anywhere?

Yes, but you are The One. Your magic is strong and getting stronger with each rising of the sun. Quick Magic is something you will master. He pulled a nut from the pocket of his white tunic and fed it to Non-Non’s replacement, the parrot named Shylo, on his shoulder.

Shylo stretched out his neck for another nut, and his sleek feathers of red, blue, green, and yellow glistened as they reflected the light. The king patted Shylo’s head, and the bird nuzzled against his neck.

I stretched my fingers, increasing the speed of the whirling wind under my hand. The length of grass lining the moat’s edge next to me stirred.

More, the king said.

The funnel grew as I brought my hand level to my chest and concentrated. The tree limbs in front of us bobbed in rhythm to the swirling whip of wind. Up. Down. Up. Down. The leaves tossed and turned on their branches.

More, the king repeated. Tighter. Taller. Stronger. His eyes gleamed, and his thick, leathery lips broke into a wide smile.

I lifted my hand higher, and with my other hand, guided the funnel as if it were clay on a potter’s wheel, molding it with my palm. The funnel’s vortex lengthened and narrowed, whistling and rumbling. From the corner of my eye, I saw a group of colonists forming to watch, but I ignored them.

"Focus.