Lor Mandela - Destruction from Twins (43 page)

“At the palace? Right,” he snapped
sarcastically, “and what if I refuse my fate?” he side-stepped
around the Dweller and kept walking.

“Den,” the Dweller didn’t pursue. He didn’t
have to. “Der will be none to saev hair. De atoha ees as good as
daed.”

Dallin stopped in his
tracks and slowly turned around. His own words ricocheted over and
over in his mind.
Shadow Dwellers know
things. They see everything.
He didn’t say
a word. He just stood in place staring at the once-again circling
Dweller.

“Yoah fate lies at de palace, Dallin Doone .
. . in de Advantiere Room.”

“L
ady . . . Lady!” Tabbit’s voice squeaked from somewhere
nearby. “Lady, wakes up!”

Maggie stirred a little; she rolled her head
to one side and moaned.

“Ohhhhh. Wh . . . where am I,” she asked
groggily.

“Where am I,” Tabbit’s voice repeated.
“Wakes up!” This time it was much louder than before. It startled
Maggie wide awake.

“Who . . . who said that?” She sat up and
glanced nervously around but couldn’t see anyone.

The perky little voice echoed, “Who . . .
who said that? Mees said that!” Just then, Maggie noticed that a
nearby tree had developed a rather shocking characteristic. Two
bulgy, brown eyes were blinking on its surface a few feet off the
ground. She gasped and shut her eyes. After a couple of seconds,
she slowly opened them again—first one, and then the other. No, she
wasn’t imagining it. The tree had eyes!

“Who are you?” she asked. “Where are the
Shadow Dwellers?”

All at once, Tabbit’s pudgy little shape
emerged out of the side of the tree. “Where are the Shadow
Dwellers,” She repeated as her eyes darted side to side. “They is
gones . . . all gones. I is Tabbit, goods Shadow Squanki . . .
goods!” She brushed a flake of bark from her long, mossy green
skirt—a skirt that just seconds before had been dark brown. In
fact, her hair had been brown, and it was now white; her eyes had
been brown, but were now baby blue. She rolled up and down on her
bare toes, and sang, “Theys is chasing slarps in The Boggies.”

Maggie’s face bore an expression of both
intrigue and alarm. She pointed at Tabbit, and stuttered. “Y . . .
you . . . you’re my . . . my . . . my Hidey. It was you! You were
the one in . . . in Pet Land!”

“You were the one in . . . in Pet Land,”
Tabbit echoed. “We has to goes, Lady. Big Shadow folks coming back
soons. Times to go . . . go and get yous to safety!” Tabbit grinned
from ear to ear. “Takes yous to the atoc . . . yeps, to the daddy
atoc!”

“My daddy, um dad is not the . . . wait,”
she blurted, “you know where my dad is?”

“My . . . .” Tabbit’s reply was interrupted
by the not-so-distant whoops and yells of approaching Shadow
Dwellers. “Oooo, times to go,” she breathed.

Maggie sprung to her feet. She wasn’t
certain how she’d managed to escape the horrors that the Dwellers
were sure to have planned for her thus far, but she wasn’t about to
stick around to find out. This little Tabbit was offering an
escape, and she was going to take it.

“Come on,” she commanded, thrusting her hand
out toward Tabbit.

Tabbit grabbed it and smiled. “Come on,” she
repeated, and with a surprising amount of strength, tugged Maggie
along behind her into the forest.

Before long, they were at the dark edge of
the Bogs. Tabbit didn’t slow; she zipped right into them, and all
light disappeared.

Maggie closed her eyes, and tried to
concentrate on the subtle twists and turns that Tabbit made as she
pulled her through the dark. Suddenly, Maggie felt something
yanking on her around the middle. Not thinking, she let go of
Tabbit’s hand.

“
Lady! No! Don’ts let go!”
The tiny voice seemed miles away. “Laaaaady!”

Suddenly, there was a muffled surging noise.
Maggie stood still and waited. It wasn’t long before a brilliant
flash of blue blasted through the darkness. Even through her closed
eyes, the bright light sent a sharp twinge through her
forehead.

When the flash finally faded, Maggie blinked
her eyes open. She was standing in a large, stone room—the same
room she’d come to before—the room where Darian had killed General
Linetal—but this time she was alone. She tiptoed over to the open
door, and cautiously poked her head out into the hall.

“Ryannon,” she whispered, “Ryannon? Are you
here?” There was no response. She crept across the large marble
hallway outside of the room, and peered through an open door—still
no one in sight.

She was just turning back toward the room
from which she’d come when a familiar voice echoed from down
another hall.

“
. . . And what makes you
think that anyone in their right mind would believe it?” It was
Ryannon and Maggie was thrilled to hear him. She raced out down the
hall toward the sound of his voice, but quickly pulled back when
she realized that he was walking toward her with his
father.

“Because I am the one saying it,” Darian
answered. “If I say it, it is so.”

Maggie ran back into the room with the wall
of windows. “Not Darian,” she panted. “This is bad . . . very
bad!”

“But, she’s fully ten years older than she
was a year ago,” Ryannon argued, his voice drawing nearer.

“And time on Drolana passes differently than
it does here.” Darian’s usual silky tone held a hint of
aggravation—and was also much closer. “You of all people should
know that!”

Maggie heard their boots just outside the
door.

There was nowhere for her to hide. The room
was far too open. She rushed to the wall of windows, searching for
some kind of escape, and much to her relief, the pair of windows in
the center turned out to be a door. Without hesitation she flung
them open and hurried out into the overgrown dried up courtyard
outside. There wasn’t even time for her to close the door again
before Ryannon and his father appeared in the doorway. Maggie
quickly darted behind the skeleton of a once-full evergreen tree,
and listened.

“Time on Drolana is not the problem, father!
You aren’t listening to me! I refuse to be a part of your feeble
plot!” Ryannon’s voice was strong and unwavering.

Maggie smiled. She loved the way he was
letting Darian have it. It was clear that Ryannon was looking out
for her, and as intimidating as his father was, he wasn’t afraid to
stand up to him.

“How dare you,” Darian seethed. “You will do
what I tell you to do.”

“Or what?” Ryannon sneered back.

Maggie cautiously peered around the tree.
Ryannon and Darian were very close to each other, staring
threateningly into one another’s eyes.

“Don’t anger me, boy.”

Maggie could see the fires in Darian’s eyes
blazing.

Ryannon maintained eye contact with his
father for several seconds, but then took a step back and sighed
deeply. “You know what? This is pointless!” He threw his hands up
in exasperation. “I don’t want to fight anymore, father.”

Darian smiled in victory. “Then I can count
on you?” he sneered, and thrust out his hand toward Ryannon.

Ryannon looked at his outstretched hand and
sighed. “Yes, father . . . fine.” He reached out with his own
gloved hand, and shook his father’s. Darian chuckled and pulled him
into a robust embrace.

“Oh great,” Maggie whispered. “What are you
doing? Don’t give in to him!” She glanced at them again and noticed
something glistening on the glove that Ryannon had on his father’s
shoulder. “Are those . . . .”

Ryannon raised his hand high in the air.

“…
spikes?
”

In one swift motion, he swung his arm down,
plunging the long, thin spikes into Darian’s back. Darian gasped
and sputtered, and then crumpled into a lifeless heap at Ryannon’s
feet.

“I’m sorry, father,” he hissed, “but it’s
like you’ve always taught me. Power is everything. And now, it’s
mine!” He laughed maniacally and pushed his father’s dead body over
with his foot. “Omer! Grayden! Get in here!” he bellowed.

Maggie shrunk back behind the tree. “Oh no,
oh no, oh no,” she repeated breathlessly. Within a few seconds, she
heard the voices of two other men in the room.

“So, I guess we can assume he didn’t
listen,” one of them observed, not sounding at all surprised by the
murderous scene.

The other man’s voice was a bit more
timorous. “Wh . . . what are we going to do with him?”

Ryannon’s gruesome reply only added to
Maggie’s current state of shock. “Oh, we’ll just feed him to
Syltar. I’ll see to it. Don’t worry your nervous little brain about
it, Omer.”

“So now what?” the first man asked. “Don’t
you think people will notice that he’s not around anymore?”

Ryannon strolled over to the windows. Maggie
caught sight of him out of the corner of her eye and retreated
further around the tree. “Haven’t you heard, Grayden? The atoc has
returned.”

“You mean the atoc imposter?” Grayden
responded.

“No matter.” Ryannon had been facing out
into the courtyard, but turned and replied, “I’m sure we’ll have no
problem convincing everyone that he killed my father.”

“What?” Maggie gasped.

“And what about the girl?” Omer asked.
“Don’t you need her for this to work?”

“Indeed I do,” Ryannon oozed smugly, “but so
far, my encounters with her have been quite pleasant. She’s been
very easy to draw in . . . just some flattery and a little passion
. . . .”

“Must be difficult for you to sacrifice
yourself like this,” Grayden interrupted.

“Well,” Ryannon chuckled sadistically, “I
suppose if I must make sacrifices, playing love games with such a
magnificent young thing is the way to go.” He walked away from the
window and continued, “Believe me, gentlemen; I won’t have any
problem getting her help.”

“Wanna bet,” Maggie seethed.

“Well then,” Grayden replied, “if that’s the
case, why do you even need her father? Isn’t he just in the
way?”

“He was . . . both he and that Kahlie, the
ex-ator’s companion servant,” Ryannon explained, “but I already
took care of that. They can’t be in the way if they’re dead now,
can they?”

“What? Nooooo!” Maggie wailed. She spun
around the tree and looked directly at Ryannon. “You pig! You
murdering cowardly swine!” she screamed.

Ryannon smiled. “Get her,” he commanded
calmly, and Grayden and Omer raced toward the open door.

Maggie didn’t care. Let them come! She
wanted to hurt them; she wanted to hurt Ryannon! If they happened
to kill her, so what? It didn’t matter now. She just stood there,
with tears spilling down her cheeks—enraged—waiting to kill or be
killed.

It was unclear what happened next. A huge
gust of wind blew through the courtyard, enveloping it in a cloud
of thick dust, and slamming the glass door shut just as Grayden and
Omer reached it. Grayden struggled with the handle, but it wouldn’t
budge.

Maggie had gone numb. She was in shock and
completely oblivious to anything going on around her. Only after
several seconds did she realize that she was moving away—being
pulled by the hand. Someone was leading her out of there. She
looked down and saw Tabbit guiding her quickly along. She didn’t
feel Tabbit’s hand. She didn’t hear any sounds. She wasn’t even
sure if she was moving her legs on her own or not, but the desolate
scenery around her was somehow floating by in a hazy, dismal
blur.

At length, Tabbit stopped running and looked
around to make sure they hadn’t been followed.

Next to them was a big scraggly shrub that
looked like unkempt chartreuse hair. Tabbit cautiously moved some
of the shrub’s chaotic branches to one side. Behind them, was a
tiny sliver of blue light—a portal. She lifted one of her bare feet
and pushed it against the thin beam. Instantly, it expanded. She
stepped through with one leg, and then the other—all the while
holding tightly to Maggie’s hand. Maggie barely felt it as one of
her own legs lifted and moved toward the blue light. It no sooner
touched the portal, than the light stretched and surrounded her
completely. She heard a strange popping sound, followed by a
voice.

“Maggie!” Dallin rushed across the room and
threw his arms around her shoulders.

Something about his embrace made her
immediately dissolve. She leaned against his chest for support and
sobbed uncontrollably.

“Maggie, what is it?” he asked. “What’s the
matter?”

She didn’t answer for several minutes.
Finally, she was able to gasp out a weak, “Dad.”

Dallin looked pleadingly at Tabbit, who was
sitting in a corner rocking back and forth on her backside and
shaking her head sadly.

“Dad,” she mumbled, “Ryannons, very
bads.”

“
Y
ou fools,” Ryannon bellowed, “she’s getting away!” He raced
up behind Grayden and shoved him to the side. The door, which had
been giving his two generals such a hard time, opened easily for
him.

“Come on!” he commanded and the three of
them burst out into the courtyard. The dust had settled, giving
them a clear view of the area; Maggie was nowhere to be seen.

Ryannon pointed to the west. “You two, go
that way!”

Grayden and Omer immediately sprinted off as
Ryannon headed east. He reached the edge of the sprawling courtyard
and let out a disgusted, “Aaaahhhhh!” while slicing and slashing
angrily at the shrubs next to him with his spiked glove.

One of them, a wild looking chartreuse bush,
literally crumbled after just two or three blows.

Ryannon stopped and kicked at the remaining
stubs of the plants. In his mind, he was already formulating
suitable punishments for his inept generals.