Prince of Attania, 2
Chapter 43

Meetoo spotted the statuette first, zooming over to Attan half-in and half-out of physical form. “Pretty!” He tried to snatch it, but Attan raised the yellow carving above his head.

“It’s not yours, it’s for her,” Attan said, as Elea came up behind Meetoo to see what the fuss was about. Attan’s cheeks colored as he realized she’d heard him. “Here,” he said, holding the little yellow caving out to her.

Undeterred, Meetoo dove towards it, discorporating at the last possible second to go inside the statue. Instantly its soft yellow glow burst into an intense stream of light, still yellow but much, much brighter.

Attan grinned sheepishly. “Oh well,” he said. “It’s from both of us, I guess.”

“You made this? It’s—oh, is this me on the seacliff?” Elea clapped her hands. “I love it!”

Meetoo had apparently had enough of being an elemental. He left the little statue and took back his human form. “Me—Meetoo,” he said with a pout. “Mee too.”

Smiling, Elea cradled the small carving which still glowed softly with elemental light. “Yes, thank you, Meetoo. You made it beautiful with your light.”

Attan had to admit that had gone smoothly. Now, if only the rest of their plan would go as smoothly. Attan wished Aylard would come so they could get it over with. The trouble was, the longer he stayed in Midver with Elea and Meetoo and the rest, the more he was beginning to like it. He was accepted here, and so was Meetoo. But Elea’s family of women were anxious to return to their seacoast village, and Attan, like it or not, was a Prince of Attania. He couldn’t hide from it forever.

Aylard came in a form no one expected until it was nearly too late. Meetoo trailed behind Elea, chattering animatedly as the young girl drew water from the well and carried it to her campground to do laundry. Meetoo could have helped, or even supplied the water for her, but it never occurred to him. Elea stopped Attan from intervening with a look. It wasn’t as if she’d never hauled her own water before.

Sighing, Attan went to help Roger in the general store. About an hour later, a battered old truck pulled up outside. At first, Attan thought it was Renn. Who else would come to Midver? But when the driver hopped sprightly down and swung around to open the tailgate, Attan realized he was much younger—and taller—than old Renn.

“Family, huh?” the stranger asked, spying Attan as he hauled in a big crate of vegetables. “I’m surprised to see your kind here.” He looked around curiously. “Are there any more like you?” The man’s eyes showed polite interest. “Just came in from Low City myself,” he added. “Lots of Family there.” He stuck out a hand, balancing the crate on one hip. “James Stenson,” he introduced himself. “And you are?”

“He’s my assistant, and he needs to get back to work,” Roger said sharply, holding out his own hand instead. “Roger. We weren’t expecting any deliveries from Low City.” Actually, the shelves were well-stocked, thanks to Attan and Meetoo and the free elementals of Midver. James Stenson’s crates of vegetables were unnecessary and unwanted. sᴇaʀᴄh thᴇ (ꜰind)ɴʘvel.nᴇt website on Gøøglᴇ to access chapters of novels early and in the highest quality.

Attan busied himself sorting bins of corn, while he watched the newcomer out of the corner of his eye. Except for the buzzing of interested free elementals, which Attan could sense but the tall man ignored, there was no outward sign that the man was anything but what he claimed to be. He didn’t look like Family at first glance, with his dusty brown hair pulled back in a tight ponytail. What was visible of his skin was gritty with dirt and sweat.

“We didn’t order any vegetables,” Roger repeated. “Who told you to bring them to Midver?”

James Stenson set the first crate down near Roger’s counter, and turned to grab another one off the back of the truck. “Tom sent me,” he said over his shoulder. “Tom Jadock?”

Both Roger and Attan froze. “Tom?” Roger asked. “But he’s gone—“

Attan frowned. Could it be? Except for the coloring . . . He let his physical self go and merged through the stranger as wind. If he was non-family, he shouldn’t feel a thing. And if he wasn’t---

Oh, James Stenson didn’t like that! He exploded into wind himself, trying to overwhelm Attan in the process. Attan let himself be overwhelmed; it was too early to show his strength. But he didn’t allow the other Elemental to raid his thoughts, though he tried. Instead, subtly, he tried to ‘escape’ in order to get Stenson away from Roger’s store, and away from Midver in general. He tore across Midver, flattening grass in his wake, with Aylard right behind him.

They both took physical form again on the top of the dusty bowl overlooking Midver. From here you could see the Mattick River flowing lazily between rolling hills in the distance. From here, too, you could see the brown ribbon of dirt road that was the only approach to the town. “Who are you, really?” Attan said, breathing heavily as if he were truly out of breath due to their struggle.

The other man smiled. “Ah, you’re one of those,” he said. “An Elemental who learned to let go of his mortal form. Are you one of Tom’s experiments?”

“What?” Thoroughly confused, Attan replied, “No. Are you Aylard First?”

The man laughed. “Maybe once. Now I’m James Stenson. How did you figure it out? Where is my old friend Tom, by the way? I see I struck a chord when I mentioned his name.”

“Tom’s dead,” Attan replied harshly.

“Ah, so he didn’t make it. I was hoping he’d be here along with the experiment.” His eyes hardened. “Where is the experiment, by the way? You’re not him.” He fixed an accusing glare on Attan, as if somehow it was Attan’s fault.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Attan answered. “What experiment? Tom Jadock died in a big explosion by the coast. How do you know Tom? Why pretend to be non-family? What do you want?”

“Look.” The older man found a seat on a nearby rock. “I’m not who you think I am. Tom was a friend of mine. I’m sorry to hear about his death, truly. He was working for me on a few different projects. Experiments, really. I was following one of them.”

Aylard wasn’t what Attan had expected. He’d expected subterfuge, certainly, and anger, and possibly ill-intent, but except for the little deception with the vegetables, Aylard was being fairly open and honest. “But you are Aylard First.”

The man sighed. “No, I’m James Stenson. Aylard First is no more. You must be the young Prince Tom was telling me about. Aylard knew his father, once. I’d like to think his father would have understood what I’m trying to accomplish.”

Suddenly, without warning, James Stenson let go of his physical self and became wind, forcing a merge on Attan. He riffled through Attan’s thoughts, taking what he wanted, and Attan had no choice but to let him. However, Attan, because he was stronger, did not have to let Stenson take everything, and the merge was a two-way street. Attan gleaned Stenson’s purpose in the brief moments when they melded together as one being.They returned to their physical selves with Stenson’s arms pinning Attan back against the rocks.

Attan stared at the other man in horror. He was—or had been—Aylard First. He had truly given up his physical body and returned to Attania as a free elemental nearly fifteen years ago. That should have given him peace; he should have lost his personal identity and become part of Attania itself, lost in the joy of just being. But he had kept his identity, he’d remembered who he was, and when he desired it enough, he’d taken back his physical body. It should have been impossible. It was impossible for all but Attan himself, and Attan knew deep down that even though he most likely would retain his ability to take back his physical identity, once he had let go and joined Attania as pure elemental, he would have no desire to do so! That’s what horrified him about Aylard First’s choice.

Stetson chuckled. “Little Prince, I see you know the significance of Tom’s home village, and you understand the spirits they worship here are like you and me.” He eased up a little on Attan’s arms but did not let go entirely. “You are just like every other Family I’ve met—a mix of too many different elements—born human even though you’ve learned to assume Elemental form. I am pure!” He shouted it. “Where is my experiment? I felt it take physical form!”

“Why?” Attan breathed, trying to remain calm. “Why do you care?”

“Why do I care? I don’t care about Family or Attania or any of it! I was right the first time—what we are is a mistake, and I want to start over, with pure beings who have no human taint in them. Then Attania will become what it was always meant to be—our home!”

Attan didn’t notice when he let go of his body and re-formed a few feet away from Stenson. He was stunned. We are a mistake. Elea had said it, too. It wasn’t true, was it? He glanced down at the road. Was that a glint of metal he saw down there? He had hoped Roger would let the others know, and that Elea, realizing what had happened, would go to his room and find the communicator. He had explained it to her just the other day, right after he’d spoken to Daniel. If she’d communicated with Daniel, then this might be him . . . . he only had to stall a little longer.

But he didn’t get that chance. A whirlwind howled up the inside of the concave bowl from Midver and careened to a halt in front of Attan and Stenson, assuming physical form as the wind abruptly ceased. Meetoo grinned at Attan, then peered at the other man. “Hello,” he said.

Stenson looked from Attan to Meetoo. “My experiment, I take it? Why does he look like you?” He took a step forward, only just realizing he was no longer gripping Attan’s arms. He shook his head, but then he smiled. “I’ve been waiting for you,” he said to Meetoo.

Attan stopped him when Stenson went to merge. “No,” he said. “Meetoo isn’t—quite—stable yet. It’s not a good idea.”

“Meetoo!” Stenson repeated incredulously. “What kind of name is Meetoo?”

Attan grimaced. “He looks like me, too,” he explained, to Stenson’s growing scowl. “Meetoo. Get it?”

Stenson glowered at him. “He’s mine!” he growled, before discorporating and flowing into Meetoo. The change set Meetoo off, as Attan had been afraid it would. Attan merged, too, encasing both entities within his own, as Meetoo’s elemental form flitted wildly from wind to rain to lightning to fire to blackness so dark it would have swallowed Midver entirely, if not for Attan. Aylard raged as wind, trying to tear Meetoo apart from Attan and take him away. But the three of them were one being, in the end, and Attan was the stronger. His essence contained them both and gradually he narrowed it down until their essences subsided, and he released them. Meetoo regained his physical form first, blinking up at Stenson as the older man formed beside him, exhausted from his efforts. Attan took form a little bit away, taking a moment to glance down the hill. That was Daniel and his enforcers coming up the dirt road!

“What are you?” Stenson said hoarsely, eyeing Attan suspiciously. “Even Jet couldn’t do what you just did.” He swiveled his gaze to Meetoo, who stared blandly back at him, unfazed by the recent merge. But then again, Attan had been reining in Meetoo from his explosive merges for a while, now. “And you—you’re more than one element! How is that possible? I thought—“

Just then, Daniel popped into being, having lost patience to wait for his cavalcade of enforcers. He shook his head. “I thought I told you no showing off,” he said mildly to Attan. “Hello, Aylard. Remember me?”

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