2022-07-28 21:51:38
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Duke of Two Cities Chapter 16
Devon took the offer—in return for getting his hotel room refunded, he made an agreement with Marc not to incur any damages while at the hotel. On the one hand, it shouldn’t be too hard. He was not a rambunctious type, and he liked to believe that he knew how to behave himself. On the other hand, by a accepting this agreement, he was no longer protected by Omniverse’s insurance.If something did happen…No. Nothing was going to happen. First of all, all the problems he’d incurred were because of stupid people harassing him over his costume. But now here he was, where costumes are accepted and considered normal. Nobody was going to give him trouble about that this weekend. Or so he hoped.Marc, still sneering, made the call right there in front of him. In short order, someone on the other end picked up. “Hi, Chris, I’d like you to comp a guest with Omniverse? Uh huh… with Omniverse.” Marc’s expression was one entirely of malignant delight, but his voice was the perfect reflection of
Duke of Two Cities Chapter 17
In what seemed to be a continuing trend ever since he left the house, Devon had only continued to benefit from strangers at the cost of his own dignity. All he wanted to do now was get to his suddenly free hotel and go to sleep. The line for the convention reduced some from earlier, but there was no avoiding the wait. Back he would need to go into the sun. The heat of the day had reduced from blazing to merely stewing hot. The worst of the day’s sun was over, leaving its scorched slag behind. Heat radiated from the sidewalk and everyone who stood upon it was an upright sausage roasting in casings of felt, plaster, and sculpting foam. No dogs allowed at the NHCC, but if any dogs could walk along that sidewalk, they would have been overwhelmed by the collective chemical screams of over a hundred people at once.But despite the opinions of certain staff members of the NHCC, Devon and the convention goers were, in fact, not animals. The only messages they heard during the half an hour w
Duke of Two Cities Chapter 18
Panic shot through Devon’s brain like an icicle dropped on his head and melting to his knees. He patted down his pockets. Already he could hear the hurricane whirr of Tamara roaring. With trembling hands, Devon opened his bag and— —there it was, sticking out of his pants pocket.“Oh, thank god.” Devon pulled out the registration receipt and handed it to the ticket girl. “Here. Sorry about that.”The ticket girl took the paper, smiling. “No worries,” she said. “Breathe. You look like you’ve been through hell today.”Devon laughed nervously, nodding. Man, if this girl is saying I look like shit… man, I must really look like shit. “Well, relax, you made it. It’s this heat!” laughed the ticket girl. “It’s making everyone a bit crazy.”“Oh, I know that for sure,” Devon said. Behind him, Tamyra’s suppressed, screaming tantrum sounded like a very small jet-engine about to take off, her rage barely restrained by her hungry-looking companion. To Devon’s horror, the ticket counter girl supp
Duke of Two Cities Chapter 19
With the opening of those doors, it was as though all of Devon’s dreams had come true.The main convention hall was far bigger than he had ever imagined, jam-packed with booths and stations to fit every niche and need. Off in the corner were colonies of booths devoid to science fiction. Spaceships from a hundred stories of and shapes and sizes soared through electric nebulae and star-packed skies. Aliens of every description, lovingly crafted and designed, menaced the stalls with terrifying wonder. In the fantasy corner, castles from around the world lay above lofty crags, promising battles with ferocious dragons and deadly breaths of a thousand colors. Wizard towers, tall and mysterious, promised tales of magical delights beyond description. There were sections entirely devoted to tales of horror, with zombies and vampires revealing their terrifying glory. And there were more! Devon’s eyes watered with the breadth and depth of the convention’s offerings. There were separate viewing
Duke of Two Cities Chapter 20
Slowly, floor by floor, the elevator rose. The elevator cart had taken on the polite, frustrated quiet that seems to grow out of closed elevators. Even the witch-girls, bubbly and carefree a few moments ago, had quiet grown on them as though someone had cast a spell. One of them took out a phone from between her cleavage.From behind Devon, the young man started to choke. The girl looked from her phone towards the sound and saw the young man, his face nearly glowing read and sweating. She rolled her eyes and shook her head and went back to tapping at her phone after giving her companion a small nudge. Her friend curled a glittery lip in disgust. Their floor arrived. They marched out with a stomp of their heels and a swishing of bejazzled skirt. The large pumpkin man went out soon after, squeezing through Devon with a muttered apology. Soon, Devon and the young man were alone.For the first time, Devon could get a better look at the young man—and a man he was, though just barely. Hi
Duke of Two Cities Chapter 21
Across the city, Maryanne Tomson, mother of two, tried to reach her son. Like many other things Maryanne tried to do, she failed.Earlier that day, they had fought. It was one of the worst fights they’d had in years, all over some silly little hat. Devon, her son, had spent an ungodly sum on something that he’d likely wear once and then put away in a closet somewhere. Three hundred dollars wasted to sit on a shelf and never be used again. A silly, stupid purchase. And after she had made her feelings known, her own son chose the hat over their family. She had cried. There was no shame in admitting it. Did their family mean so little to him? Did she mean so little to him?Maryanne cried and prayed all that morning. When the crying wouldn’t stop, and the prayers didn’t work, she turned to her greatest refuge—sleep. Many women her age struggle with sleep, but Maryanne had always been a dreamer. In the days that she used to have friends, they would all complain about their various sleepi
Duke of Two Cities Chapter 22
Now filled with dream-laden purpose, Maryanne marched out of her room down to the kitchen where Neveah sat. Apparently, she hadn’t moved from the kitchen since the morning. “Neveah, have you seen my phone?”Neveah looked off to the side at the corner of the wall. “Why?” “I need to call your brother,” Maryanne said. “Where’s my phone?Neveah’s eyes went as wide as teacups. She did not look at her mother. “I don’t know? It’s probably where you last left it.” Beneath the annoyance in her voice was a layer of fear. Maryanne glared. “Did he call?” she asked. Neveah shrugged her shoulders, but still avoided her mother’s gaze. “A shoulder shrug is not an answer, missy. Did your brother call, yes or no?”“What am I, your secretary? No! Devon did not call. OK? Happy now?” Neveah brushed away a lock of hair from her ears as she stood up from the table and marched off to her room, her voice trailing away. “My god, can you for two seconds talk about something else other than Devon!”“Don’t
Duke of Two Cities Chapter 23
Devon picked up the phone as it vibrated, looking at it. “More of Neveah’s bullshit, I’m sure.”But what if it wasn’t?Maybe it really was Momma reaching out to apologize—or at least talk. But what would he say?Buzz-buzz. Buzz-buzzGripping his lips, he picked up the phone. “Hello?”ClickWhoever was on the other line hung up. “Goddamnit. Neveah probably has Momma’s phone again… the snake.” He tossed his phone on the bed and refused to look at it, at least until dinner. There were more important things to do—first of which being a long shower. Devon stripped down and tested turned the faucet tap. A spray of steaming hot water blasted out with such force that Devon almost leapt back. Dozens of thin streams hissed from the shower-head, each with enough pressure to clean the dirt out from between tile grouting. Devon swept his hand underneath the stream—wonderful, cool pressure dug gently into his skin. “That is—ooh!” Devon grinned. It was by far the nicest shower he had ever used.
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Chapter 52
His room had been cancelled. Just like that. No warning, no notice. At the snap of Marc’s fingers, Devon had been unceremoniously tossed out of a Convention that he literally gave up his family to attend. Devon stared at Marc for a while. Then, he laughed. He laughed quietly, then he laughed loudly, cackling, until he had no more breath in him. And still he laughed. This had been, by far, the most ridiculous weekend in Devon’s entire life. He had given up his family in a moment of anger, suffered assault and insult nearly daily, only to befriend some kind of foreign royalty who, while defending his newfound friend, had sacrificed the only housing he would have for the foreseeable future. Ridiculous! His life had become a joke, some absurd and wild story written by a mad idiot. This was a weekend that would define the rest of his life, and it all had just been so unbelievably stupid. Meanwhile, Marc looked as though he were about to leap out of the Executive Lounge window from shee
Chapter 51
Things were getting out of hand. Zayin needed to think quickly; his Prince was going to start digging himself into a deep and terribly expensive hole. Yes, Ali had certain entitlements to his family’s wealth…in theory. But Ali had never tapped into his family’s wealth before—Zayin wasn’t even sure that he could. It was a poorly kept secret that more than one relative had access to Ali’s accounts…including Cousin Sayid. To his shame, Zayin was quietly praying that there was not enough left to embarrass the Prince. He never thought that he would ever wish for relatives to embezzle the Prince’s funds. Even with his Aunts and Cousin Sayid dipping into his funds, Ali’s personal wealth was enough that he could make serious trouble for himself, as well as the Kingdom. And with the stone-set fury on Ali’s face, trouble would come. Perhaps the key to solving the trouble lay in Ali’s ‘brother’. “You.” He pointed at Devon and spoke in English. “Come with me, please.”Quietly, Devon complied.
Chapter 50
It was not the strangest occurrence to ever happen, but it was one of the strangest that had ever happen to Zayin.He stood nearly speechless as Marc, a hotel functionary, sputtered and nearly fell down on his knees trying to explain to Ali how all of this had been an enormous mistake. There had been in Marc’s words, ‘a deep and serious cultural miscommunication that New Hudson Convention Center will work tirelessly to reconcile’. It was ten minutes of this kind of diplomatic nonsense, and Zayin had to admit that he was doing quite well with it. In another life, and with another passport, Marc would have made a great presenter for one of the old State Television channels. More amusing still was, for the first time since knowing him, Ali acted like a prince. This was the greatest shock. Zayin was confident in this assessment—that Ali would be easily brushed aside by his more competent cousins and tossed out of Zhabaiye public life. Cousin Sayid would place him on a farm in the middle
Chapter 49
Since the construction of the New Hudson Convention Center, there had never been a moment quite what Marc Abramov experienced in that Executive Lounge. Since its actual opening some twenty years prior, there had never been so many people silenced all at once with just a few short words. Time seemed to freeze and Marc’s armhairs stood straight on their ends. The VIP…more like the VVIP in fact…was expecting an answer. Why did Marc make the VIP’s brother cry?He clasped his hands and began, “Well—“ Well what? Nothing. The words caught in his throat. Something about the young man’s look—and he barely registered as a man at all—struck him with a sense of absolute terror. The VIP’s gaze encompassed his entire being, utterly and completely, as though he were no more than a fixture of the room. Marc had a sudden, curious idea that there was a sword hanging over his neck. And if he did not speak very, very carefully, that sword would drop and lop his head clean off from his body. There
Chapter 48
Devon sat crosslegged on the floor, squishing his hunter’s hat for comfort. He stared at a spot of carpet, trying to drown out the sounds of the frightening-looking man screaming at Ali. Devon could piece together that the goons all worked for him—some of them were half in costume, others dressed like regular folk. A few wore golden watches. Were they thugs? If so, they weren’t like any gang members that Devon had ever seen, and New Hudson was unfortunately filled with those. These men looked too clean-cut. They didn’t have the casual swagger of the gangs he knew, and other than a little bit of rough-handling on the way to the top-floor lounge, they hadn’t been beaten. Furthermore, gang attacks usually don’t take this long, and by this point they had been sitting in the lounge for twenty minutes. Meanwhile, Ali had begun to shout at the man who kidnapped him. That was the strangest part of all of this--when Ali shouted, the man who kidnapped them listened. And so did his goons. At
Chapter 47
Zayin’s head throbbed. He wished, more than he’d ever wished for anything in his life, that he could wake up back home, in Al-Zhabaiye. He missed his coffee, he missed his 17th story view of the desert, he missed the smell of the cedar paneling of his building’s elevator. All these little things he missed, many of which he had not appreciated before. His head ached until the pain seeped down into his shoulders. So tense were all his muscles that even the slightest movement ached. And it was well to be tense, because his ward, the PRINCE OF AL-ZHABAIYE HIMSELF, chose to behave like a childish idiot. Now Zayin and his security team occupied the hotel’s Executive Lounge, where they had extradited the Prince from a possible attempt on his life. The Prince sat on the couch with his head in his hands, refusing to look at or speak to anyone. One of his security team had thoughtfully prepared a plate of dried fruit and cheese. The plate sat in front of the Prince, untouched. Good. Maybe the
Chapter 46
Far away from the chaos of New Hudson, in the Golden City of Al-Zhabai, King Ibrahim al-Zhabai stood on his private balcony, thinking of a joke. Once, the land that his Kingdom sat upon was a flat cropping of rock surrounded by a lake of sand. No trees, no oil or minerals, or any of the other resources that make a city worth building existed there. A hundred years before King Ibrahim’s time, this useless plot of land was gifted to his great-grandfather, Usman al-Zhabai, Founder of the Kingdom, as the world’s most expensive prank. It was a little known truth. Very few people beyond the deepest circle of the royal family knew this story. Not even foreign websites could publish it, for the instant they did al-Zhabai’s Ministry of Communications used every means at their disposal to take it down. Family lore said that when Founder Usman, talented and overlooked, was finally gifted the land he had worked for all his life. When the empty plot of land was finally revealed, his “benefac
Chapter 45
It began with a push. Once again, Ali was surrounded by an angry crowd, with someone screaming at him in a language that was not his mother tongue. In Al-Zhabai, nobody would dare speak to him in such a way—even the cousins who looked upon him with contempt would never stoop to such behavior. In the moment, Ali felt the most curious sensation—that his soul was leaving his body, watching it from above. Perhaps the shock of the push had killed him, he thought. Curiously, in this dissociated state, he didn’t seem to have any feelings at all, though his body was nearly convulsing in terror. Time seemed to lose its smooth passing. Suddenly everything became terribly slow, as if the convention and everything in it was moving through thick honey. Down from above his own body, Ali gazed as Tamyra, whose face had become a terrible mask of vindictive rage. She lunged at Ali— to snatch Devon’s gift, he thought. But Tamyra’s dexterity had vanished before the heat of her own anger, and whom m
Chapter 44
“Of course it would be you,” Tamyra snarled. “Who else would be so entitled? All I needed to finish my was going to finish my Warriors of the Endless Road collection was that Dashu. And you took it.”Tamyra’s face had flushed past crimson and was on its way to purpose. Her princess wand was quavering in her hand. At the slightest provocation, Devon feared she might actually use it. He held up his hands as though the wand were about to shoot lightning from its glittery points. “Look,” Devon began, “I’m sorry about your collection, but like—how are any of us supposed to know that? We can’t read minds or anything.”“You took it,” Tamyra intoned. Devon’s logic had no place amidst her anger. And there was much to be angry about—between the incident at the entrance, the horrible mess in the Fantasy writer’s panel, and now this. Just over the past two days, Ali and Devon had been a thorn in her slippers. and she had just about enough. “And it’s not enough that you have the nerve to troll in
