“Yes, I know exactly what your plans are for me, Billy. But, I also know what is in store for you.” He laughed.
“SHUT UP!” William bellowed, scraping his sword from its metal sheath as he fought for control over his raging anger. Finally, he was able to continue more calmly, “If you tell me where Jeremiah and the boy are, I may be inclined to spare your life.”
“You must think that I’m an idiot! You and I both know I will die here.” Dublin laughed harshly. “I will not betray my kings. The boy’s life is worth more than mine, and someday he will have more power than you could ever fathom! He will bring you to your knees begging for mercy.”
William LeMasters’ face erupted in fury as he stomped further down the steps, lifting his sword. Xavier hid his face in his father’s side and wished desperately he could block out the sounds.
He heard LeMasters’ chilling growl, “So be it. Let it be a comfort to your wife and children that you died for your kings.”
Then to his horror, Xavier heard as LeMasters’ sword whispered through the air and sliced through Dublin with a soft, moist thud. The utter silence that followed screamed death. He knew without looking that Mr. Minnows had been beheaded.
His father clamped a hand over his mouth just as he began sobbing, but not quickly enough. William had heard, and his cold, savage eyes darted in their direction. Jeremiah scooped the boy into his arms and raced through the residence to the trapdoor. He threw open the door and dropped into the dark hole, not bothering to use the ladder. Then, with a flick of his hand, the hatch slammed shut, and the bed overhead squealed back into place, hiding the trapdoor from obvious view. Jeremiah didn’t wait to see if they were being followed, for he was certain that they were, and he raced down the dark tunnel. He didn’t use a light for fear it would make their escape more dangerous. He traveled a hundred or so yards when he heard a loud slam echoing down the passage. Voices and footsteps reverberated from behind them; undoubtedly LeMasters and his men had found the passage and had begun following them. Jeremiah shifted a sobbing Xavier more firmly in his arms and increased his pace. He only needed to get out of the passage and into the woods. Then, he would be able to teleport them to safety.
“Oh, Jeremy,” William’s echoing voice taunted. “Come on! You know there’s no sense in running. I will catch you sooner or later.” Then he laughed, cooing wickedly. “Aw, what is Prince Xavier so upset about? Is it Dublin? Dublin didn’t suffer, boy. Beheading a man is usually quiet painless. Though, I think I might taxidermy his head and mount it above the hearth in my new flat.”
Squirming in his father’s arms, Xavier screamed, “I’ll kill you! I’ll kill you! I swear to God I will!”
LeMasters cackled contemptuously.
Jeremiah couldn’t keep a hold of the wiggling boy any longer and dropped him. Xavier landed on his feet and sprinted back toward LeMasters and his men.
“Xavier! No!” Jeremiah yelled, racing after the boy. Then, just as Jeremiah grabbed him, Xavier conjured his first electro force since his illness, and it was extraordinarily potent. The blinding force erupted from his hands with a loud thump, propelling father and son backwards several feet as it punched down the tunnel toward LeMasters and his men. A fraction of a second later, an explosion nearly shook the passageway apart and a large section collapsed a few feet away from them, cutting off LeMasters and his men.
Choking on the dust and debris, Jeremiah lifted the sobbing boy into his arms. “Come on, son. Let’s get going.”
As soon as Jeremiah stepped from the passageway and out into the dappled sunlight, he teleported himself and Xavier to the rendezvous point for the northern escape route. The rest of the group had obviously gone ahead for the vehicle was missing from the shed. Jeremiah lowered the boy to the ground and staggered to the shed, where he sat, burying his face in his hands.
Xavier walked to his father and put his arms around him, crying harder at the sight of his father’s anguish. Jeremiah reached up, pulled him into his arms, and held him like a small tot. They allowed the grief to come then, holding onto one another for support.
Finally, Jeremiah took hold of his grief and took several long, deep cleansing breaths. Then, he turned his attention to the boy in his lap and brushed the tears from his grime-smeared cheeks before hugging him tightly and kissing his forehead.
“Son? I’m going to teleport us to the evacuation airfield. Everyone is there waiting for us. So, as soon as you’re ready, we’ll go,” he told him softly, and Xavier nodded.
After a moment, Xavier was able to contain his weeping. With a painful tightness in his throat and chest, he looked up at his father and croaked, “I’m ready.”
“Okay then, let’s go,” he whispered hoarsely, tightening his hold on the boy. Then, he stood and teleported them to bare field. A small, private jet waited to their right, and Loren hopped down the steps to greet them.
“Thank God! We were starting to worry,” he gasped, searching the empty field behind them. “Got any idea where Dub is? Tamarah is getting worried.”
Jeremiah didn’t answer as he lowered Xavier to the ground. “Son, give the key to Loren.”
He obediently pulled the key out of his belt loop and handed it to Loren. Feeling very close to tears again, he blindly followed his father up the steps and into the aircraft. When they entered the cabin, the Jeffersons, the Hardcastles, and Tamarah and her daughters all gasped in relief.
“Good grief!” Tamarah sighed. “You boys had us worried to death.” She looked beyond the king and prince to the empty space behind them just as Loren entered the cabin. “Where’s Dubby? Didn’t he come with you?” she asked, her smile still lingering on her lips.
With a heavy sigh, Jeremiah moved to her and grasped her shoulders. “Tamarah, Dub… didn’t… make it,” he muttered softly, his voice breaking.
Tamarah Minnows began shaking her head long before the king got the words out. “No,” she whispered. “Oh, no, no! Jer! God, no!” The tormented, strangled cry that erupted from Mrs. Minnows made Xavier shudder. Jeremiah pulled her into his arms as she wailed uncontrollably. Rebecca Hardcastle comforted Brit, who was crying nearly as hard as her mother.
Whereas, Robbie simply sank to the floor and muttered, “No, no, no, no, no.”
Xavier felt helpless. He didn’t know what to do. He knew from first-hand experience that nothing anyone said would make Robbie, her sister, or her mom feel better.
“Jer,” Ephraim whispered. “We’ve got to get going before we’re discovered.”
Jeremiah nodded and pulled Tamarah into a seat next to him, buckled her seatbelt, and looked at his son. “Xavier, get Robbie into a seat.”
Nodding, he approached the despondent girl. “Robbie,” he whispered. “Come sit with me.”
Robbie stood and followed him without a word, without a sound. They settled into a pair of seats across from his father. Jeremiah continued to hold Mrs. Minnows, muttering, “I’m sorry, Tamarah. I’m so sorry. Everything’s going to be okay. I promise.”
Xavier turned to Robbie. She had her head turned away from him, apparently watching out the window as the plane began taxiing to the end of the field to prepare for takeoff.
“Robbie?” he whispered.
She didn’t respond or turn. Xavier reached for her hand and found she was trembling. “Robbie? Look at me,” he called softly. When she did, he felt his stomach drop at the sight of her swollen, red eyes, and tear-soaked face.
“Xavier,” she gasped and leaned into him, crying. Awkwardly, Xavier held her and patted her back as she sobbed against his shoulder.
Chapter 24
The Gathering
The flight to wherever they were going was long, and almost everyone fell asleep, except Xavier. He couldn’t sleep, despite his raw, heavy eyes. Every time his eyes fell, he would hear Dublin’s voice vowing never to betray his kings, and he would jolt awake again. Robbie slept fitfully against his shoulder, and his arm screamed in protest from the weight of her head. He despe
rately wanted to shift into a new position but feared waking her. So he wiggled in his seat trying to fight the tingling sensation prickling up and down his arm. Then, he glanced at his father and found him watching him. Xavier gave him a feeble smile, which his father returned.
It was nearly dark when the plane finally landed in an empty field surrounded by forests and mountains. Jeremiah relinquished Tamarah to her sister as he and the men removed the baggage and set up camp under a nearby canopy of trees. By the time the campsite was erected, it was dark, and Xavier didn’t get much more than a glimpse of the landscape. As the men ushered them to the campsite, the plane took flight again.
“Dad? Where’s the pilot going?” Xavier questioned.
“He’s flying to Coasta to inform their king of our predicament. We’re going to need their help in regaining our kingdom,” he explained, turning to face the group. “Tomorrow, we will teleport to Mirror Lake and join up with other survivors and loyalists. For the next several days, we’ll be roughing it, and you’ll need to get as much rest as you can. It’s going to be a tough week.”
Everyone nodded and set about preparing for bed.
“Son, we’ll be sharing a tent with Mrs. Minnows and her daughters. I want you ready for bed in ten minutes,” he told him.
“Yes, sir,” he answered, heading toward the woods to pee.
Although the tent was a bit crowded, the group remained comfortable and warm. The children cuddled around the adults like puppies. Tamarah continued to cry into the night, and it was nearly midnight when Jeremiah was finally able to lull her to sleep. Xavier lay next to his father, listening to the group’s even breathing and wishing he could sleep, but every time he closed his eyes, he heard the sickening thud of Dublin’s decapitated head falling to the floor in the palace’s antechamber. He shuddered and snuggled closer to his father’s side, fighting off the chill sweeping through him. His father’s warmth melted away his uneasy feelings, and he began to relax. Then, just as he began to drift off, Tamarah’s voice snapped him from his blissful slumber.
“Dubby? Oh, Dubby.” Tamarah moaned sleepily.
“Sh,” Jeremiah murmured. “It’s okay, Tamarah.”
“Oh, Dublin,” she cried softly, followed by a brief rustling.
“Tamarah?” his father hissed. “I’m not… Honey, it’s Jeremiah!”
“What? Oh, God! I’m so sorry, Jeremy,” Tamarah groaned miserably. “I thought you were…I thought it had all been a dream,” she cried.
“I’m sorry, Tammie.” he sighed. “I wish to God it were.”
“Xavier?” His father’s strong voice in his thoughts made him jolt. “Go to sleep.”
“I can’t, Dad. I keep hearing William LeMasters murdering Mr. Minnows,” he answered telepathically. “Is Mrs. Minnows okay?”
“She’ll be fine, son. Try to get some rest, would you? We have a long day tomorrow.”
“Yes, sir,” he responded, rolling over and nestling farther into his sleeping bag. After a long while, he finally fell asleep, listening to Tamarah’s hiccups and his father’s soothing words.
The next morning, Xavier got his first good look at his new surroundings and found himself at the base of an enormous white-capped mountain range. A luscious green forest ringed the base of the gray mountains, and cotton-candy clouds hung so low in the sky, they appeared touchable.
He sat next to the campfire poking at the still glowing coals with a stick. His father had sent him out of the tent earlier that morning without explanation, but he hadn’t needed one. He had seen the tattered envelope in his hand and quickly slipped out of the tent without arguing. The rest of the group was still sleeping, except for the Hardcastles. He could hear Rebecca and Ephraim’s voices whispering from behind their closed tent flaps.
A few moments later, his father joined him looking drained and tired. Xavier guessed that he probably didn’t get much sleep last night. Father and son sat in silence for several minutes, listening to the light weeping from their tent.
“Are they okay?” Xavier finally asked.
“They will be. It’s hard to lose someone you love…of course, we know all about that,” Jeremiah concluded softly, draping an arm over his shoulders.
“Yeah,” he agreed wistfully. Another long moment passed, and the sobbing from the tent lessened. He glanced over his shoulder, and as a light breeze fluttered the tent flap back, he saw Mrs. Minnows, Robbie, and Brittany clinging to one another. It wasn’t a comforting sight. It only reminded him that Dublin was dead, and he had played a major role in it. He tore his eyes away from the tent and once again took in his surroundings.
“Where are we?” he asked his father for no other reason than to get his mind off the pain on Robbie’s face, and the fact that he had helped put it there.
“Switzerland,” he answered simply.
“Where are we going to go?”
“First, we’re meeting all the survivors from the invasion at Mirror Lake. We’ll camp there for a week or so, and then from there, we’ll go into hiding while we prepare to make our stand against LeMasters.”
“Where will we go to do that?” Xavier asked.
“A place called King’s Mountain. My great, great-grandfather, Michael Abraham Wells, built it long ago after Warwood’s fallout shelter had become so decrepit that it was no longer safe to use in the event of an emergency. The construction of the refuge in King’s Mountain took years to complete. Those involved in the construction were brought to the site in blindfolds and were required to remain in the mountain until the project was completed. Its location has been safely guarded for four generations. So, to ensure the mountain’s security and the safety of its residents, only I know of its location,” he answered.
“Have you ever been there?” Xavier asked.
“Just once,” his father replied in a puzzlingly brusque tone, and he showed no signs of explaining.
A couple of hours later, the group packed up the camping gear and tents and gathered around the extinguished campfire.
“Since Ephraim and I are the only experienced teleporters, we’ll have to take turns teleporting everyone to Mirror Lake. Xavier, you and Loren will be teleported first. Grab your backpack, son.”
Xavier threw the bag over his shoulders and stepped into his father’s embrace. The instant he did so, he felt the familiar, but by no means relaxing, sensation of an unseen entity reaching inside him, grabbing his very soul, and lifting him up and out. He closed his eyes to this wheeling sensation, waiting for it to end. When it did, he opened his eyes and found himself standing next to a massive, clear lake. It was quite obvious how the lake obtained its name. Mirrored in its shimmering surface were the towering mountains to its north and west. But what took Xavier’s breath away wasn’t the natural beauty of the land; it was the hundreds upon hundreds of people who had set up camp all around the lake’s edge.
“Xavier,” his father whispered. “Stay with Loren. You are not to leave his side. Do you understand me?”
He looked up at his father and nodded. Jeremiah looked at Loren, exchanged silent words, and simply vanished again.
“Well, little sire, what do you say we head to our camping site and start a fire?” the large general suggested, clapping him on the back.
“Sure,” he muttered.
“Oi, Wells!” Beck Wilcox’s voice called from the crowd as he ran toward him and tackled him to the ground, laughing. “It’s bloody good to see ya, Your Highness! I should’ve known LeMasters wouldn’t get his slimy claws into you! Where are your sidekicks?”
“They’re coming. Hey, look, Beck, I should tell you…”
A flash of blue light preceded the king’s return. He had Tamarah Minnows in his arms, and Ephraim appeared beside him with his wife, Rebecca. The sisters clung to one another and made their way toward Loren as Ephraim and Jeremiah disappeared again.
“Xavier, let’s go. We need to prepare the campsite for the others,” Loren called.
“I’ve got to go, Beck. I’ll c
atch up with you later, okay,” he mumbled, climbing to his feet.
“Sure,” Beck answered. “See ya.”
Xavier followed Loren as he led them to an elevated portion of the lake’s shore. It reminded him of a Greek acropolis that he had seen pictures of in his history book, only smaller. From its summit, he could see the large mass of people moving about as they set up camp around the lake. For a couple hundred people, it was eerily quiet.
“Come on, kid. I need help finding wood for the fire,” Loren whispered from behind him.
They gathered wood and kindling, and within minutes, they had a small fire flickering lazily in the light wind. Rebecca led Tamarah to a fallen log next to the fire just as Brittany and Robbie joined them. Brittany ran to her mother and climbed into her lap, very close to tears. Robbie simply sank to the ground next to her mother, staring absent-mindedly into the flames.
Soon, the entire group had been teleported to the lake, and they began setting up camp. Xavier helped his father erect their tent and move their bags inside. Afterwards, he sat next to the camp fire watching his father prepare to tour the camp.
“Oi, Dad!” Drew called from the lake’s basin. “We’re going to take a look around.”
“Okay, don’t go far and keep an eye on your brothers!” Ephraim called.
Xavier scrambled to join the Hardcastle boys when his father’s voice stopped him.
“Xavier, stay here with Ephraim. Don’t wander off.”
He nodded begrudgingly biting back his complaints as he watched Court and his brothers scatter into the crowd.
“We shouldn’t be long. I need to scan the crowd, get an idea of who’s here, and determine if there are any threats,” Jeremiah told Ephraim.
Soon after Jeremiah and Loren left, Rebecca and Tamarah retreated into the Hardcastle tent, and Xavier flopped himself on the log next to Ephraim, sighing. Brittany had disappeared into the tent with her mother, but Robbie was nowhere in sight. Worried about her, he went looking for her. He found her sitting on a rock overlooking the lake. He crossed the short distance between them and stopped behind her. He studied her slumped shoulders in silence, trying to think of something to say.
The Prince of Warwood and the Fall of the King (Book 2) Page 23
