Lor Mandela - Destruction from Twins (39 page)

He cleared his throat, and responded in a
very deep, manly tone, “Uh, yeah. Thank . . . mm hmm . . . thank
you, Kahlie.” He glanced away, hoping the faint daylight that
remained was not enough to illuminate his reddened face.

Tabbit giggled.

The trio made their way up from the banks of
the river and onto a wide street that wove its way through the
tall, pearly buildings. It was now dark out, but the streets were
well-lit by small, pale, yellow lights that hung in the trees and
larger bushes of the gardens. “What is this place called?” Nathan
inquired.

“This is Mandela City,” Kahlie smiled with
pride. “Is it like your first city?”

He shook his head, “I don't think there's
anything like this on Earth. Least not anything I've ever seen.” He
looked down at the street which appeared to be made of large slabs
of polished stone, pieced together in a giant glistening mosaic,
and then glanced at Tabbit who was swatting at what appeared to be
something similar to a lightning bug. The little bug darted just
out of reach, but then became distracted by a large ruffled flower
that hung from a nearby shrub. As it stopped to investigate, Tabbit
slapped her little hands around it and popped it into her
mouth.

“Ughhh,” Nathan moaned as he watched a small
little lump—obviously the still-alive bug—writhe and wriggle down
Tabbit's throat. A few seconds later, and much to his disgust and
amazement, the lump reappeared on her big, bulgy tummy. The bug was
bumping and banging against the inside of her belly, still trying
to escape. This went on for several seconds, concluding with Tabbit
jumping up and down a couple of times and belching loudly.

Kahlie noticed his repulsed expression and
sniggered.

“What? Is that normal here,” he asked. “Do
you eat like that, too?”

“No, of course not,” Kahlie laughed.
“Tabbit's a Shadow Squanki. Everything is like a game to them. You
should've seen your face!” she giggled, poking him playfully in the
shoulder.

“Well, ha ha ha,” he retorted. “I'm sorry!
That was just . . . .” Suddenly, he stopped and his jaw dropped
open. “Whooooa! Is that the . . .?”

“Mandela Palace,” Kahlie smiled.

They stood at the outskirts of the city, on
the edge of a large grassy meadow. The sprawling field was devoid
of anything vertical except a large, oddly shaped tree that twisted
up just a few feet away from them. Across the meadow, at the base
of the mountain, stood Mandela Palace—an amazing structure, easily
the size of the entire town of Glenhill. It looked like someone had
taken the best ideas of the world's most brilliant architects and
combined them into one absolutely stunning work of art. It was a
spectacular luminescent white constructed of the same pearly
material as the other buildings and embellished with dark,
elaborate roofs, intricate window frames, Gothic gable decorations
and extensive verandas and balconies. It stood glowing and majestic
nestled in a serene, mountainous valley, bordering a sparkling,
crystal lake. All Nathan could manage to do was shake his head back
and forth.

“You like it?” Kahlie's asked; her question
barely registered.

“Like it? I'm . . . uh,” he stammered. “It's
well . . . just look at that thing!”

“Good,” Kahlie smiled. “I'm sure it‘ll be a
comfortable home for you while we get this mess straightened
out.”

“Home?” Nathan muttered as they started
across the large expanse of grass.

“Home?” Tabbit repeated, and skittered off
toward the palace singing, “You is the atoc . . . You is the
atoc!”

“Tabbit!” Kahlie snapped, “That's enough! I
already told you. Mr. Baker is not the atoc!”

Nathan chuckled, “That's okay . . . and I'd
really prefer it if ya called me Nathan. Mr. Baker sounds so
old.”

“Oh, I'm sorry . . . uh, Nathan.”

Tabbit was now almost half way across the
meadow—ignoring Kahlie completely—and still bantering on. “Oh, I'm
sorry . . . uh, Nathan. Nathan is the atoc, Nathan is the
atoc!”

“She's um, somethin' else, huh?” Nathan
laughed, “Ya know what's weird?”

“Uh . . . yeah,” Kahlie teased, “you?”

“Oh, ha, ha!” Nathan smirked, and lunged
toward her like he was going to grab her.

Kahlie giggled, and took off running.

“Hey! You get back here, Missy,” Nathan
insisted.

Kahlie shook her head “no” as she sprinted
away. She was pretty fast, but Nathan was faster, and within a
minute or two he caught up to her and grabbed her around the waist,
lifting her off the ground. “Ahhhh,” she squealed, still laughing
like a little girl. “Put me down!”

Nathan smiled victoriously and let go. “You
are no match for the atox,” he shouted.

Kahlie sniggered. “The atoc,” she
corrected.

“Whatever.” Nathan bent over and took a
couple of deep breaths. “Whew, I haven't had a good run like that
for a while.”

Kahlie wasn’t at all winded. “Yeah, well
that didn't stop you from catching me, did it?”

He stood up straight and puffed out his
chest. In a deep, formal voice, he proclaimed, “You are a very
formidable racing opponent, M'lady!”

All of a sudden, Kahlie wasn't smiling. She
looked mortified. “That . . . that is what I do best,” she
whispered.

Nathan looked into her
serious eyes, and all of a sudden, a flood of memories raced
through his mind—flashes of another time—another place. No, not
another place,
this place!
Suddenly he was recalling copious amounts of
information—his mother, his father, his friends, his home, the
palace, Mandela City, Mystad Lake, Koria, the Mandelan army, the
Trystas, Shadow Squanki, Shadow Dwellers—he knew it all! He'd been
here before, too. They were in the East Mystad—the field just
outside the palace. The field that led to the. . . . “The Anaria!”
he gasped. He turned toward the massive tree and then glanced back
at Kahlie.

“Kahlie! Oh, Kahlie! I'm
back! I'm back!” He grabbed her and lifted her into the air.
“Whoohoo!
I’m back!
” He lowered her to the ground and kissed her cheek, and
then, the full gravity of the situation kicked in. Both he and
Kahlie just stood there, stunned—panting and gaping at each other
in disbelief.

It was Kahlie who spoke first. “But how? You
don't look . . . I mean there's a little similarity, I guess, but .
. . .”

He was now staring at his shoes and looking
quite overwhelmed. “Graci,” he muttered sadly.

Kahlie put her hand on his shoulder.

Just then, the quietness
of the field was blasted away by a loud
whoosh, whoosh, whoosh!

“What's that?” Kahlie yelled between
surges.

“Kahlie! Hang on! Don’t let go!” He thrust
his hand out toward her and she obediently grabbed a hold. He
pulled her to him and wrapped his arms around her shoulders as the
sky filled with a brilliant blue light, followed by a deafening
crack, and they disappeared.

They landed with a splash into something
warm and wet.

“Whoa! Hold on! Don't move! I'm on my way.”
A male voice boomed through the light.

Even if Kahlie had wanted to move, Nathan
was holding her so tightly that she couldn't. Despite this,
however, she tried to look around to see where they'd been
taken.

“Oh no,” she gasped, “Eternity Pools . . .
yeah . . . don't move.”

“I know,” Nathan breathed. “Don't panic.
We'll figure this out.”

They had been transported to an area just
outside of Koria known as the Eternity Pools. The Pools appeared to
be nothing more than a group of several ponds of water, but in
reality, contained something far more treacherous—Deroxis—a
strange, carnivorous plant. When an animal or—in this case—a person
happened to land in one of the Pools, the Deroxis took on the
appearance and feel of a warm, soothing spring. But, the moment the
plant's prey attempted to get out, the Deroxis' leaf-like
appendages would spread and wrap themselves tightly around it,
smothering it before pulling it down deep below ground and slowly
devouring it. The pools were called the Eternity Pools because the
myth among the Trysta people was that the process of being consumed
would take all of eternity.

Just a few feet away, a young man jumped
from spot to spot, skillfully avoiding the deadly Pools. “Hang on,
almost there!” he assured as he teetered on a small rock, and then
leapt from it. Within a moment, he reached the side of the pool,
knelt down and removed a coiled rope from the side of his belt. He
quickly tied a few knots and flung the rope out around them. “Don't
move a muscle!” he reiterated as he reached out and tucked part of
the lasso into Nathan's hand. “Okay, now very slowly . . . take a
hold of the rope.”

Nathan carefully rolled his fingers into a
fist. His heart pounded as, much to his horror, the water-like
substance around him started to ripple.

“Alright, on my order, tense up.” The
stranger watched as the tip of a leaf formed near Kahlie's
back.

“What? Tense up? We tense up and we’re
dead!” she retorted.

“
You’re going to have to
trust me!” He stood and pulled the rope taut. “Ready . . .” he
began, “
Now!
”

Kahlie and Nathan tightened their muscles.
Masses of large, black-green leaves shot upward, momentarily
creating a small space around them. The young man flipped the rope,
spiraling it around and around Kahlie and Nathan. “Grab it!” he
yelled. Nathan clenched his fist. The man had managed to twist the
rope into something resembling a noose.

The treacherous leaves spun toward them, and
the man leaned back and pulled as hard as he could on the rope. It
was obvious that he was strong, but the rope itself seemed to be
doing the work now. In an instant, Kahlie and Nathan were pulled
from the Pool, just as the lethal Deroxis crashed inward. They
landed forcefully on the ground, and rolled to a stop just before
sliding into another deadly Pool.

“Whoa!” The young man gave a small tug on
the rope and it virtually disintegrated. Nathan brushed the
remaining bits of it off, and helped Kahlie to her feet.

She leaned in closely to him and whispered.
“Don't say a word. We can't trust anyone, remember?”

Nathan gestured with an inconspicuous nod
toward the young man. “Ryannon . . . Darian's son,” he whispered
back.

Kahlie's eyes grew wide; she turned and
faced Ryannon. “Thank you for your help, sir. We are in your
debt.”

“Ah, you must be Maggie's father,” Ryannon
smiled. “I’m Ryannon.”

“Ryannon, of course. Yes, as a matter of
fact, I am Maggie's father. I'm Nathan . . . Nathan Baker. This is
my friend, Kahlie.”

Ryannon smiled and nodded. “I wish we were
meeting under different circumstances, sir. I don't know how much
you know.”

“I know that your father has sentenced me to
death,” he retorted coolly.

Ryannon sighed. “I'm so sorry. My father is
deranged, but I have a plan. I can help you.”

“Really?” Kahlie interjected. “Why should we
trust you to help? How do we know that you aren't up to something
yourself?”

“I did just save you, didn't I?”

“Kahlie,” Nathan assured, “maybe we should
listen. I mean, given the circumstances I don't think we have much
of a choice.”

Kahlie looked at him like he was crazy.

“First,” Ryannon began, “you'll need this.”
He pulled something from his coat pocket.

“What is it?” Nathan asked.

“Well, since you're here, I can only assume
that the inhibitor I gave Maggie didn't work. This new one should
do the trick. He placed a small object on the back of Nathan's hand
which instantly dissolved into his skin. “There, now. Once you go
back home, you'll stay.”

Kahlie gasped.
“
What!
What are
you thinking? You can't just put things on people without their
permission! Do you have any idea what you've done?”

Ryannon looked at her like a cat that had
just caught a mouse.

“Kahlie, it's okay,” Nathan glared at her,
wide-eyed. “Calm down. It'll be okay.”

“We really should get out of here,” Ryannon
suggested, “I think it would be best if we got you out of plain
sight.”

Nathan nodded in agreement. “Lead the way,
Ryannon. I have absolutely no idea where I'm going!”

As they cautiously made their way out of the
Eternity Pools, Nathan allowed Ryannon to get a little ahead of him
and Kahlie, and then grabbed her hand. She looked at him in
surprise. With his head, he motioned toward the hand on which
Ryannon had placed the object before.

“That was a receptor,” he whispered.

M
aggie was frantic. She looked at Bridgette pleadingly,
grabbed her by the shoulders and yelled, “We’re too late! They’ve
got him!” Bridgette was simply trying to process what had
happened.

Holden dropped into one of the kitchen
chairs and buried his face in his hands. He seemed to be as upset
as Maggie; but at this particular moment, she could feel no
sympathy toward him. She stomped over to where he was sitting and
slugged him in the shoulder.

“Ow!” he yelped.

“This is all your fault,” she shrieked. “You
did this when you bumped him out of the way!”

“What?
” Holden’s face turned red with rage. “Thirteen years!” he
bellowed. His voice sounded much older suddenly. “I’ve been trying
to get back . . . been stuck on this lousy planet, with nothing
more to do than follow you around and keep your butt out of
trouble!” He stood from the chair and paced the floor. “I wasn’t
even part of your ridiculous . . . I was just trying to help your .
. .
ugh!
I get a
chance . . . one stupid chance in thirteen years, and now . . .
it’s all
my
fault? This is what I get for trying to help! Every time!
Every time . . . something like this happens!”