A Guiding Light Page 2

  Who was I to tell him no?

  “I’m expecting you to tell me everything, Marshal. However, you need a shower first, and you’re going to need clothes, bedding, and a toothbrush. Unlike you, I didn’t see this coming.”

  My god-awful pun coaxed a giggle from him. “That was terrible.”

  “Terrible but funny,” I replied, pointing in the direction of my bedroom. “Take your time, kid. You’re pretty ripe.”

  He shot a glare at me on his way to discover the horror of a tiny shower surrounded by an apocalypse of dirty laundry.

  I really needed to clean my apartment.

  A baseball cap wasn’t much of a disguise in a small town like Hettinger, but I’d told people I had a younger brother, so it wasn’t hard to trick the curious into making assumptions. Marshal played along with disturbing enthusiasm, not voicing a single complaint during the thirty-minute drive to the thrift store for used clothes.

  The novelty that people would buy used clothes enthralled him. When I ditched a few of his hundreds for twenties at the bank next door, he found the existence of ATMs almost as fascinating as his new wardrobe.

  Once upon a time, I’d felt the same way, but reality had dulled the shine of new experiences within a few days. I’d ease Marshal into living in a small town, far harsher than anything he’d ever experienced.

  Dinner would deal the first blow to his perceptions. Macaroni and cheese with canned tuna made up half of my diet. Canned beef stew took second place. Once a month, I splurged on steak. I could’ve afforded better, but I chose not to. Instead of wasting money, I hunted new stocks to buy, expanding my fortunes a little every day.

  It’d probably do me some good to vary my diet.

  After I secured everything in the truck’s bed, I started the engine and waited for Marshal to buckle up before heading home.

  “I’m really confused,” he confessed.

  That made two of us. “What’s confusing you?”

  “Why do I dream about you fixing what New York is going to do to us when my sisters refuse to wed Prince Ian?”

  “Wait, sisters? I thought New York was after Veronica.”

  “They’ll take any one of my sisters. They’re just targeting Veronica right now.”

  I shouldn’t have been surprised. A headache brewed behind my eyes at the amount of work I’d need to do to verify Marshal’s claims of impending economic chaos. “I think you need to give me an idea of what your talent’s telling you.”

  “It’s vague,” he mumbled. “I just get the feeling you’ll make it better, but I don’t understand how.”

  “It depends on what New York’s going to do,” I admitted.

  If New York meant to stage a mass sellout of North Dakota’s stocks, I could get involved. I couldn’t prevent a collapse, not if a kingdom like New York drew on its major investors, bribed them to take the hits to their portfolio, and staged the sort of financial collapse capable of crippling a kingdom for years.

  After staging the collapse, New York could ‘generously’ offer a bailout in exchange for one of the kingdom’s three princesses. Taking North Dakota’s heir would be the best move possible for New York.

  Unlike me, Veronica had inherited her parents’ talents.

  Marshal slumped in his seat. “Mom and Dad confirmed a lot of New Yorkers have stock in our banking sectors; we only have two major North Dakotan investors near the maximum allowed stock holdings. One is right beneath the maximum. That investor has stock in all our banks. If the New Yorkers sellout, our bank values will plummet.”

  I gave credit where credit was due: Marshal hadn’t run off without taking the time to learn about the problem first. Unfortunately, North Dakota was about to learn why allowing a twenty-five percent stock holding maximum in the banking sector was a very bad idea. They’d also learn why setting their maximums to per corporation rather than per individual was equally bad.

  Since the day I’d turned fifteen, I’d been collecting bank shares like they were forbidden fruits. If New York did mass sell, after I created several new corporations, I could own the bank shares of an entire kingdom. In time, if I managed my stock sales carefully, I’d walk away with the sort of profit investors dreamed of.

  I’d have the power to sell stocks at prices I wanted, and I’d be playing by the golden rule: buy low, sell high.

  To do it, I’d have to liquidate high-profile stocks and wait for the hardest part of the crash. If I bought early enough, I could possibly limit the damage New York could do to North Dakota’s economy.

  I had eighteen years of chasing gut feelings and keeping score—and toeing every legal line I could—backing me. I had the money, and I wasn’t invested in just North Dakota. I lived in the basement of a house the owner refused to occupy because it was too run down, but I could afford to buy the entire banking sector of North Dakota if I wanted to.

  All New York had to do was sell.

  It was so hard to keep from cackling at the thought of staging the sort of economic takeover required to stall the market’s collapse. Once I had the kingdom’s banks under my control, my first move would be to change the rules at individual banks to limit shareholders to five percent. It’d be a hassle, but I’d extend the limitations to apply to sister corporations.

  “Adam?” Marshal whispered.

  “Do you think turnabout is fair play?”

  “Sometimes, I guess.”

  “In good news, North Dakota can survive a crash,” I told him, hoping I’d be able to relieve some of his worries.

  “But people will suffer.”

  Ah. I didn’t envy his gift or his insight. “North Dakotans are tough. We’ll manage, and the market won’t crash for long. The real problem is your disappearance.”

  “I told them I wouldn’t come home if they agreed to send any of my sisters to New York. I left a note.”

  The royal family had a stubborn streak a mile wide, and Marshal would do as threatened for as long as he could. I considered pulling over so I could bang my head against the steering wheel. “Are you trying to incite panic?”

  “New York would steal our sovereignty.”

  “New York would take over the world if it could. They have more ambition than sense.” I shrugged. “I try to avoid politics.”

  “But you should be our next king.”

  Marshal would never learn how deep his words cut, not from me. The wound from losing Veronica would never heal. My cursed magic ensured I’d yearn for what I couldn’t have until the day I died. She was my first thought in the morning, and she was the reason I spent more time staring at the ceiling than I did sleeping.

  Ruling a kingdom was a small price to pay for my peace of mind. If only it were that easy.

  “We don’t always get what we want. I wasn’t born with the right talents. Your parents did nothing wrong by making use of the out clause in the betrothal document. Without my parents’ talents, I offer North Dakota nothing.”

  “You made my sister happy,” Marshal sobbed.

  Without his talent, he never would’ve known about my history with his sister beyond a jealously guarded envelope. I sighed. Everyone had a breaking point, even kids. I’d reached mine long ago, and a pair of pills every morning kept the pain almost manageable. I pulled over and put my truck into park. “One day, she won’t need me to be happy, Marshal.”

  I hated I spoke the truth.

  He shook his head.

  “It’s not my fault you don’t like the truth. In a few months, I’ll qualify to have my talents burned out. She’ll be free of me.”

  I’d never be free, but that was a price I was willing to pay. The scars left behind from nullification would never heal, but my magic would no longer bind us together.

  “You can’t. You’ll die.”

  I grimaced at the conviction in Marshal’s voice. “That happens sometimes, yes. It’s a risk. I’ve been under treatment to take the worse of the edge off.”

  “It isn’t working. She misses you every day. She
tries to hide it. She wants to be a good queen, but she misses you too much. Her heart’s gone because you have it, just like she has yours. You belong together.”

  To cover my dismay and anguish, I asked, “Are you really twelve?”

  “Dad says I’m going on forty. Mom says I’m a cranky granny with a broken rocker.”

  “They might be right.”

  “It’s my talent’s fault. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry for something you can’t change, Marshal. The truth hurts. I can’t be what you want.”

  “But why not? You’re everything she needs. Who cares if you don’t have the right talents?”

  How could I explain the truth to a child already burdened with his talent? We had a lot in common on that front. Life would be much easier if we hadn’t been born with our magics. “Everyone but you, Marshal. Your parents. My parents. Every politician in this kingdom. Everyone.”

  “And you?”

  “Do you want the truth or the answer that’s easier to live with?”

  “The truth.”

  A wise kingdom would aim to make Marshal its king. “If I don’t take the meds, I can’t function at all. I get pain in my chest, and it’s only a matter of time before I have a heart attack. I’m going to die anyway. I’m at the legal maximum dose, and if my doctor finds out it isn’t helping much, I’ll no longer qualify for nullification or the drugs. No matter how it plays out, it all ends the same way: I die. With nullification, I have a fighting chance. If I were a better leech, it’d be easier.”

  “I don’t understand.”

  I admired him for being able to admit his confusion. “I’m a one-trick pony, kid. From the beginning, there was only one person for my talent. I accepted that years ago, and you should, too. But, you came to me for help without knowing why. I can help you. I may not be able to give you everything you want, but I can help you with your New York problem.”

  “But how?”

  “You’ll see,” I promised.

  Chapter Two

  Marshal played a mean game of trick the adult, as he made it into my apartment, stumbled to the couch, and spent twenty minutes howling that life wasn’t fair. He had me convinced he’d never run out of energy.

  Falling asleep on his feet exposed his ruse, and he dropped onto the cushions without waking up.

  The incident taught me a very important lesson: I knew nothing about caring for a child. If North Dakota ever expected me to contribute to the continuation of the royal line, the kingdom would get a rude awakening. I wasn’t convinced I could keep a twelve-year-old alive for longer than a day or two. Was I supposed to wake him for dinner? Would he sleep until tomorrow if I let him? Tomorrow morning was only sixteen hours away.

  I couldn’t remember the last time I’d slept for more than three or four hours at a time.

  As long as the young prince kept breathing, I’d count my efforts as a win. While I waited for him to wake up, I began my part of the work. With the dissolution of the United States, there were few rules all the Royal States followed, and most of them dealt with immigration.

  Every kingdom made its own laws, and North Dakota had lax trade and investment legislation in place, making it ripe for the picking. New York could easily recreate the Great Depression. While most no longer studied history before the rise of magic, the stock market crash had changed the world.

  The conditions weren’t quite the same as the Great Depression; investors weren’t selling or buying stocks to artificially grow the market. New York would drop the market value in a stunt that would mimic the consequences of the stock market crash, crippling the banks and financial sector.

  North Dakota lacked the wealth of other kingdoms, so it didn’t have far to fall, but for those who fought for every dollar of value, the crash would hurt. Had North Dakota been a richer kingdom, I never would’ve been able to afford buying the stock New York meant to drop all at once.

  It was the perfect storm, but we would weather it far better than New York thought possible.

  My first job would be to check every law regarding stock markets and trading in North Dakota and make certain my stable of fronting corporations stayed legal. Once I positioned myself for mass stock acquisitions, I needed to read into New York’s trade laws.

  I wouldn’t be the one buying shares in New York. No, I’d recruit some of the more ruthless investors to do the dirty work for me, all from kingdoms also threatened by the greedy royal family dominating the east coast. It wouldn’t take much to involve players from Montana and Texas; both kingdoms had reason for a grudge.

  I’d also make a point to avoid Alaskan investors; their new queen had been born in Pennsylvania, New York.

  Well, shit. I’d been following politics again without meaning to.

  I grunted over my accidental breeching of my own rules and went to work. After I verified the North Dakota laws, if New York’s market had a weakness, I would find it.

  On the surface, New York had an iron-clad financial sector. With a cap limit of three percent per shareholder, I’d need an army of investors to make the giant fall—and several trillion dollars I didn’t have. To hit three percent in the New York Royal Bank alone, I’d need to invest hundreds of millions. If I wanted to hit three percent in every bank, I’d need to invest over a billion dollars.

  I was rich, but I wasn’t that rich.

  Since attacking the banks directly wouldn’t work, I’d need a different plan. But how could I defeat one of the world’s richest kingdoms in a financial war?

  I wanted to take down their banks like they meant to flatten North Dakota’s beneath its heel, but no matter how I looked at it, I doubted it could be done. I’d need to convince current shareholders to abandon ship and get new investors in. In the money game, New Yorkers could be bought; most of them had a price if I could afford to pay it.

  Even if I found the world’s twenty richest investors and convinced them to help, it wouldn’t be enough. New York was too established, too expensive, and had too many protections. The number of shares needed to topple the beast intimidated me. How many people would it take to teach New York an important lesson?

  Once North Dakota’s market crashed, finding high numbers of people willing to play in the financial sector wouldn’t be hard. Some would want revenge. Some would want to protect the interests of their home kingdoms. Some would want to see New York take a hit because New York didn’t care how many enemies it left in its wake.

  I could use that. It wouldn’t take much to trigger an avalanche; I’d whisper tales of New York threatening North Dakota’s sovereignty, lay a foundation for anyone interested in taking a stab at the enemy, set a date, and hit the investment networks.

  Many would be willing to lose a few hundred dollars a share to protect their kingdom from becoming the next victim.

  To pull it off, I needed proof.

  Within the public stock exchanges, anyone with the time, the patience, and the tools could pull down a list of those who owned stock in a company or bank. As a top shareholder of every bank in North Dakota, I had access to a bank-provided list of other shareholders. Public stocks were beautiful things.

  Within four hours of playing with a spreadsheet, I had the data I needed.

  Marshal hadn’t been lying or exaggerating. New York owned almost as much of the North Dakota banking sector as I did, and when they sold, just as the young prince had foreseen, it would be a disaster. The royal family’s seven percent kept New York from being able to stake a majority in any of the banks, which essentially belonged to me thanks to their move.

  If I wanted to start manipulating the banks, New York and the North Dakotan royal family would have to join forces to stop me. It’d be a cold day in hell before that happened, especially once New York made its move.

  New York had made one critical miscalculation, which would amuse me to my dying day.

  North Dakota was small and stubborn. It wouldn’t go down without a fight.

  Despite my feelings
for the royal family, good and bad, I’d do my part to make certain New York regretted the day it targeted my home kingdom.

  The peace and quiet lasted five hours and twenty-two minutes, ending when Marshal woke up snarling mad. When hungry and half-asleep, I was a bear, but the kid knew more curses than I did and used them with vehement vigor until I set a bowl of macaroni and cheese topped with tuna in front of him.

  It disappeared in minutes, calming the rabid beast long enough I could make him more, which likewise vanished into his cavernous pit of a stomach. Comparatively, I pecked at my dinner like a bird, foraging long enough to keep from starving to death.

  I really needed to do better about certain habits. I got a monthly scolding from Dr. Berriner over my weight. It usually went in the wrong direction, except during the peak of the construction season, when I ate enough for five just so I could keep up with my job.

  It flummoxed him.

  He couldn’t understand a simple truth: the peak of the construction season was the one time of the year I felt useful, which made it a lot easier to go through the motions without falling prey to my misery.

  When I worked hard and had a purpose, I could almost forget everything I’d lost—almost.

  To set a good example, I brushed my teeth, took a quick shower, and glared at him until he did the same. He grumbled more curses but obeyed, so I ignored the curses as I’d won the more important war.

  It occurred to me I had no idea how to keep a kid amused. My work would bore him to tears, and I was grateful the construction season was over, as there was no way I could take a prince to an active construction site.

  As I had done, Marshal blitzed through his shower, changing into his not-quite-new pajamas. “How much money would you need to move somewhere nicer? I’m pretty sure your shower’s going to die soon. It’ll be a terrible death. Awful, even. You do not want to know what’s in the drain pipes.”

  “Did you see that, or are you just planning on staying around for as long as you can, thus your concern for the state of the shower?”