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SKYCAT AND SWORD

Jadan's Rise and RevengeBy Dan Stanhope Karen Stanhope

iUniverse, Inc.

Copyright © 2012 Dan Stanhope and Karen Stanhope
All right reserved.
ISBN: 978-1-4620-0513-0

Chapter One

The angry Cabal stood in front of the king. He shook his wooly head, his large, curling horns stabbing the air to punctuate his words.

"I did not break those jars on purpose!" he insisted in a deep, gruff voice, stamping his hoof. "The shop's aisles are too narrow! I just wanted to purchase some fine-ground nuts and packs of oats. I was as careful as I could be. It's not my fault if my wool accidentally swept some jars off of their shelf!"

"You weren't careful enough!" the shopkeeper retorted. "My aisles are more than wide enough for my normal patrons. I can't rearrange my whole store because one large ... person ... wants to shop here." The man spit the words out, his distaste for the Cabal clear. "You owe me for thirteen broken jars of pickled celery root. I should also charge you for the scrubbing it's going to take to get the vinegar smell out of my store."

Jadan cautiously parted the edges of the cloth that covered the table he hid beneath so he could see a little better. This was only the second Cabal that Jadan had seen in his nine years—and this one was stranger than the last.

He looks like the inside of my pillow, he thought, an inside-out pillow that stands on two legs like a man. Its wooly fur made it look enormous, but the belt cinched around the waist of its trousers showed that it was really a lot skinnier than it looked. It had shorter hair on its face and big yellow front teeth. Jadan could see those teeth clearly now as the Cabal sneered at the shopkeeper.

Jadan looked at the king to see how he would rule. The vertical yellow pupils of the Cabal's eyes rolled wildly around in its big brown eyeballs. The Cabal looks angry enough to chew nails. What's it going to do if the decision doesn't go its way? Jadan wouldn't be surprised if it rammed the shopkeeper with its horns—or even the king! He scooted forward on his hands and knees and stuck his head out a little farther so he wouldn't miss any of the action.

"There you are! Get back to the classroom!"

Jadan jumped at the sting of his tutor's switch on his bare leg and hit his head on the bottom of the table. "No! I'm not going back!" he cried as he scrabbled forward and dashed to his father's throne. He knelt at the king's knee and looked hopefully up at his father's face, but King Raynor only glanced at the boy quickly before turning his impatient look on Humor, the boy's tutor.

"What's the meaning of this?" Raynor asked in an irritated tone. "We're in the middle of court, and you are interrupting the judging of complaints. Can you not manage one small boy?"

"Sire, my apologies!" said Humor, dropping his eyes and placing his hand over his heart. "I only turned my back for an instant, and he managed to get away from me. It won't happen again!" He grabbed the boy's arm and shook it roughly, his fingers digging in until Jadan knew his skin would be black and blue.

Not for the first time, Jadan wished that his tutor lived up to his name. The man had no sense of humor whatsoever. Jadan thought that the situation was at least a little bit funny. After all, he had put a dummy "Jadan" in his chair in the classroom over an hour ago. I'll bet he only just now noticed that I was gone, Jadan thought. I wish I could have seen his face when he realized that he had been teaching a dummy.

But how else will I learn how to king? Jadan asked himself. Humor only teaches me history and language—not king stuff! And Father promised me a ride on Daggar weeks ago. I'll bet he forgot. Feeling justified in his actions, Jadan waited for his father to defend him.

"Yes, yes," the king said absently, ignoring the rough handling and waving away the boy and his tutor. He gave Jadan a disapproving scowl. "You will never learn what you need to know to sit upon this throne if you don't do well at your studies. You are not only shaming your tutor, but you are shaming me in front of my subjects, who have come to me for judgment."

As Humor dragged Jadan away by the arm, the boy protested, "But Father! You promised! You promised that you would take me for a ride on Daggar, but it's been days and you haven't taken me!"

Raynor shook his head. "I will not reward your bad behavior with a skycat ride. Now go back to your studies."

"Yes, the king is a busy man," scolded Humor. "He has much more important things to do than fly about the sky. Come along now and let King Raynor get back to his subjects."

A last look at his father showed Jadan that the king had already forgotten him. Dejected, he allowed his tutor to drag him back to the classroom. What did I expect? he asked himself. Father never has enough time for me. Jadan loved the rare times when he was able to be with his father and continually looked for ways to gain his approval. Unfortunately, his good intentions usually ended up with him in trouble.

Back in the classroom, Humor resumed the lesson, his voice a dull, buzzing drone. At least it's a subject that I like, Jadan thought. The topic was Fusor history and the Great Crash. He half-listened as his tutor talked about the creation of the world. Jadan idly imagined himself as an ancient human in a world full of erupting volcanoes and clouds of dust that blocked out the sun. The boy perked up as Humor launched into his favorite part: the origin of species.

"Over four thousand years ago, the Great Crash caused a burst of highly radioactive dust to sweep across our world. The sudden surge of radiation caused massive physical changes in the evolution of all species—humans included. Genetic mutations and the natural law of survival of the fittest shaped generations of human descendents," Humor lectured. "From our human ancestors, three new species evolved: Mutants, Cabals, and our own Fusor species.

"Jadan, what are the three basic characteristics of a Mutant?" he quizzed.

Jadan knew the answer, but he was still angry at Humor—and his father. He pressed his lips together and didn't reply. Jadan knew that he wasn't acting in a kingly manner, but what did they expect? I never spend enough time with my father to learn how a king behaves! Or how a father behaves, for that matter, he thought mutinously.

Whack! Humor's switch came down on Jadan's desk. "Pay attention and answer me when I ask you a question!" he shrilled. "I would hate to tell the king that you're failing history, not after your behavior today."

Jadan hated that sneering look on Humor's face. He's just waiting for me to do something bad so he can punish me. Jadan decided that he wouldn't give him the satisfaction.

Jadan held up his hand and counted the three Characteristics of Mutants off on his fingers. "Mutants are as tall as humans were and their bones and everything are the same, but they evolved backward—"

"They regressed," corrected Humor.

"—they regressed to be more like earlier humans in some ways. Like, they have heavier muscles and are lots hairier. Their faces are wider, and they have low foreheads and big bony brow ridges and flat noses." Jadan thought a bit more. "And they have big jaws and big teeth and some of their front teeth are sharp and pointed like a dox," he added, referring to the familiar pets that many Fusor families kept to guard their homes.

Humor nodded impatiently, "Yes, yes. What else?"

Jadan held up his second...