by L. R. W. Lee
Dark sorcerers? Andy remembered the chain mail blanket that had trapped Daisy last year and Naria’s explanation that its tremendous weight came from evil burned deep into the metal.
Andy continued translating:
“Not long after Naparte’s voyage, word of sightings of a great and terrifying beast began to circulate and quickly spread throughout that region—multiple heads, fire-breathing, enormous wings and tail. The beast swooped low over villages, wreaking havoc, terror, and destruction. It changed the landscape from a land green and lush, to one barren and desolate.”
Andy swallowed. That sure sounds like Abaddon. His stomach lurched as he remembered his dream of seeing Oomish citizens transformed into zolt—or worse, stiff statues. Abaddon used a spell…dark magic…to extract energy. What could he have given wizards in exchange for his powers? What would evil sorcerers be after? What is Abaddon capable of?
*****
With only a week left until the school year ended, Andy lay in bed staring at the ceiling. He had turned his room lights off and now watched the stray rays of headlights passing by on the street. His thoughts turned to Alden and he wondered how his best friend had done in the Tower Chase competition last fall. I wonder if Oscray season has started? He smiled as he remembered the amazing cookies Alden’s mom, Marta, kept on hand for him and Father. Yes, Father. Memories of how special he had felt when he learned he was the King’s son and heir to the throne pulled the corners of his mouth upward. But his next thought, Hannah, sent a swarm of butterflies flitting about his stomach until dreams overcame them.
Andy found himself standing in an unfamiliar field. Judging by the angle of the sun it was late afternoon. To his left, an army of jagged rock outcroppings burst from the grassy plain at odd angles as if giants had been interrupted in the middle of a game of Twister. A mixture of prairie grass and tufted vegetation filled in the balance of the canvas to Andy’s right. Gentle breezes played with the herbage and his nose sniffed out the distinctive smell of herd animals.
Turning around slowly, Andy spotted the source of the odor—a group of a dozen or more pegasi, roaming free. Ignoring his presence, the blue, purple, red, orange, and pink animals continued clipping the succulent greens. From time spent with the cavalry’s pegasi, Andy knew these animals, while beautiful, could turn vicious and bite, so he scaled a rock and watched, wondering all the while why his dreams had brought him here.
After quite some time, as his boredom encouraged him to explore, he caught sight of a blond-haired maiden. From this distance it looked like Hannah, though he could not be sure, and he felt his stomach tense. The girl wore a filthy yellow dress that extended below her knees and a ratty white scarf adorned her locks. She approached the grazing pegasi slowly with outstretched arm and open hand, inviting the creatures to investigate.
What’s she doing? Is she crazy?
Fifteen feet away. Ten feet. The animals closest lifted their heads as if warning the maiden to approach no farther. The front-most animal ruffled its green wings to underscore the point.
Andy stood, preparing to charge the pegasus if he needed to. He felt his heartbeat quicken and reached for Methuselah but came up empty as he had all year.
The girl took another step forward and Andy yelled, “Hannah, stop! They’re going to hurt you!” Clearly the maiden did not hear his cry, for she advanced several more steps.
Andy’s gut would allow him to remain a spectator no longer, and he leapt from the boulder, racing for the foolish girl. He was still a good thirty yards away when the herd attacked, wings unfurled and teeth bared. The sounds sent shivers up and down Andy’s back as he rushed to rescue.
“Hannah!” Andy yelled, waking himself. His pajamas and sheets were drenched in sweat.
“Hannah! Hannah!” Madison mocked in a high-pitched squeal downstairs over pancakes the next morning. “I heard you yelling all the way down the hall. Who’s Hannah?”
“Don’t worry about it,” Andy snipped, knowing Madison would never let it go that easily.
“Is she your girlfriend? Like Daisy?” his sister taunted, sensing the tantalizing prize that could be hers if she probed further. When Andy did not respond, she started making obnoxious kissing noises, receiving her reward as his face began to warm.
“She is!” Madison pointed.
“It’s not like that!” Andy insisted, despite knowing his adversary had won.
“Madison…” Dad growled, coming around the corner.
“What? Andy’s got a girlfriend. Her name’s Hannah.”
Andy caught Dad glance his way and redirected his eyes to study the granite countertop, which had become fascinating.
*****
The school year ended with a whimper, and tonight the family remembered Andy’s thirteenth birthday courtesy of Papa Paul’s Pizzeria. While the bigger celebration would happen next weekend at a rock climbing venue, Andy had campaigned for pizza, a forbidden fruit in Mom’s book, and won on the condition that someone other than she call and place the order for delivery. Madison had rallied and made the call, insisting Andy would never order what she wanted.
Everyone sat in the family room, stomachs rumbling, waiting for the pizza delivery guy.
“How ‘bout we start with cake? I’m starving,” Madison suggested.
“Yeah!” Andy echoed as the doorbell rang.
“I’ll get it!” Madison exclaimed, jumping up.
No sooner did Andy hear the front door open than Madison screamed and raced back into the family room, drawing everyone to their feet in time to face three zolt brandishing broadswords. Andy saw Mom grab Methuselah’s hilt from the end table next to her. The blade extended and she sprang into action, bringing the weapon down on the lead adversary.
Andy ran into the kitchen and grabbed the carving knife and meat cleaver from the rack on the counter. He dashed back into the family room and spotted Madison cowering behind the recliner in the far corner. Dad had vanished, four dead or injured zolt lay bleeding on the carpet, and Mom dueled two more of the enemy. Andy did not have time to question where the additional zolt had come from, for out of the corner of his eye he spotted yet another adversary nearly upon him. He pivoted in place and crossed the blades at eye level as Cadfael had taught him, slowing the sword’s downstroke. His instructor’s warning rang through his brain: “You never win a dagger fight, you only survive one.”
Andy stepped to the side, deflecting the zolt’s momentum. With its back now toward him, he brought his top hand down and trapped the attacker’s hand behind his knife. The zolt refused to drop its weapon, allowing Andy to push it to the floor with his shoulder. He smashed the blunt handle of the carving knife into the creature’s temple and it collapsed. The thud drew a whimper from Madison who still cowered in the corner.
Mom engaged three more zolt and appeared to have them well in hand when Andy spotted Dad standing his ground on the front lawn, attempting to take down two enemies with a garden rake. The rake was not a fair match against broadswords, however, and Andy rushed to help. But as he reached the front steps, five more zolt materialized.
Seeing their prize, the enemy ignored Dad and rushed toward Andy. We’re outnumbered! As the thought crashed through his mind, he heard Mom yell from behind, “Andy. Closet!”
An ethereal sensation instantly engulfed his body and a black tunnel enveloped him, tightly squeezing every inch of his form. Andy slammed into the wall of a small, dark space and crumpled to the floor, trying to catch his breath. Feeling something sharp digging into his knee, he moved and, thanks to a line of light seeping under the door, identified it as the buckle on one of Mom’s boots. Whoa! How’d she do that?
“Oh no you don’t!” Mom growled on the other side of the door as the knob jiggled roughly.
He righted himself as swash and clang sounds reverberated outside the closet followed quickly by flump, and then something blocked much of the bead of light.
Swash. Clang. Swish.
“Fred, are you okay?”
Swish. Clang. Swash. Flump.
“Fred!”
Mom’s voice grew fainter. She must have gone to fight alongside Dad. I’ve got to do something!
Andy turned the door handle and pushed. The door opened no more than an inch, but it was enough for him to see a zolt’s head—unconscious. The weight of the enemy’s body held him captive. He put his shoulder to the blockade and pushed again, harder, and managed to force it open another inch. All sounds seemed to be coming from the front yard. He peered out but saw no movement, so he wedged his shoulder into the gap and, using the closet wall as a brace, slid the unconscious zolt forward enough to squeeze out of his prison.
Carrying the knives, Andy scanned the family room and found Madison still huddled in the corner behind the recliner. Her face was wet from tears, and the instant she laid saucer-size eyes on him she croaked, “Is it safe to come out?”
Andy glanced about the room to double check before nodding. Madison did not need encouragement. She bolted from her hiding place and up the stairs toward her bedroom. He did not have time to listen for her door to slam, for no sooner had she vanished than another zolt burst through the front door.
The enemy wore deep gashes across its face from which blood flowed freely. As soon as it took a step toward Andy, Mom appeared in the doorway, her hair disheveled and clothes torn but still brandishing Methuselah. The sword was bloodied from combat and red streaks stained much of Mom’s attire. Andy could not immediately deduce whether the blood belonged to her or the enemy. Mom took a swipe at the adversary’s exposed back and it crumpled to the floor.
“You look awful,” Andy commented, glancing at the downed zolt.
“Thanks.” Mom smiled, lowering the blade.
But before she could catch her breath, Andy spotted another six enemy materializing on the lawn behind her.
“Mom! Look!”
As she turned, she cried, “Andy. To Oomaldee!”
CHAPTER FOUR
Hope Reborn
Andy splashed down into a thick ooze of muck. He coughed and sputtered, then dropped the knives he still clutched and swiped at his eyes, trying to bring his surroundings into focus.
A forest of old dead trees stretched before him, their roots submerged in mire. Islands of grass peeked up where sediment had collected. Eddies of mud swirled around Andy’s legs as he righted himself and gazed upward. The canopy looked to be a tangle of vines supported by skeleton arms. The greenery vied for sunlight, greedily forbidding most of the sun’s rays from reaching the swamp’s floor. It smelled of decay.
What is this place?
He heard a grunt behind him and slowly turned. A hulking, greenish creature sat in the mire five feet away. Its pumpkin-like head bore oversize triangular ears, and a pair of canine teeth extended upward nearly two inches out of its lower jaw. It appeared to be female based upon its long black hair and the location of the scant attire it wore.
Andy glanced down, hoping to retrieve the kitchen knives, but they had sunk below the surface of the mud. The creature grunted again and motioned for him to come closer. When he did not comply, the brute planted a fist in the muck and pivoted, scooting next to him, coating him with a tidal wave of the foul-smelling ooze. Before Andy could react, she brought a muscular arm up and pulled him facedown across her lap.
Though Andy kicked and yelled, the creature kept him down with one arm and shoveled handfuls of mud onto his hair and shoulders, then proceeded to smear it around as if giving him a bath. Despite her size, her movements were surprisingly gentle. After thoroughly coating the back of Andy’s head with mud, she moved a clawed finger over one of his ears and grunted again. Andy could feel her breath on his neck as she inspected more closely. Another grunt and more feeling about.
She thinks I’m her kid and she’s trying to find my ear!
Andy intensified his squirming as another, higher pitched grunt sounded from behind. The creature turned to look and as she did, he wiggled free of her grasp. He leapt up, distancing himself as quickly as his feet could navigate the swampy muck trying to remove his shoes. He ducked behind a thick trunk and looked back. The creature stood and corralled a miniature version of herself. Her graceless splashdown in the mud sent a myriad of ripples through the bog.
That was close. I wish I had Methuselah. No sooner had he thought it than the hilt splashed at his feet. That’s so cool!
I know I’m in Oomaldee, but where? Another grunt sounded off to his right, choosing for him the direction his explorations would take. He headed left, sloshing through water and mud while keeping alert for more beasts. He attempted to remove the odoriferous grime with tree leaves, but his efforts proved ineffective. I feel like I did when I fell in quicksand. At least the mud isn’t sanding my skin like then. Each time he ventured upon a large green brute, he ducked behind a dead tree trunk until it passed or became too engrossed in something else to pay him any notice.
The few rays of sunlight that made it to the ground lengthened and Andy knew he needed to find shelter for the night. But where? And then his stomach started rumbling. I wonder what those things eat. Andy could not recall seeing anything edible in his travels. With no other option, he continued on as the sunlight began to fade. Just as dusk settled across the landscape, the trees began to thin and the swamp released him from its soggy grasp.
Mature oaks and chestnut trees stood grouped across the grassy plain before him, and he sighed. Well, at least there’s ground to sleep on. He scouted out a grove of oak trees that looked promising for camouflage and set about gathering dry leaves to soften his bed. His stomach complained again as he sat down, resting Methuselah next to where he had constructed a makeshift pillow.
As darkness consumed the area, nature began its ritual symphony: branches swaying in time to the gentle breeze formed the melody, while the sounds of crickets chirping and owls hooting provided the harmony. Andy smiled as he peeled drying mud from his ears. Despite the chaos that had brought him here and his ooze-covered condition, all seemed right in the world tonight. I hope Mom and Dad are okay. But even as the concern flitted across his mind, having seen Mom skillfully handle Methuselah eased his worry. When did she learn to fight like that?
His stomach grumbled once more and he attempted to ignore it. But the harder he tried, the more focused he became. The breeze shifted and his nose picked up faint wisps of something that smelled like Dad grilling. He tried to dismiss the notion. I’m so hungry, I’m imagining things. But his rumbling belly compelled him to investigate.
As Andy picked up Methuselah, the blade extended and lit up, illuminating the area. He lifted his nose, located the direction of the tantalizing aroma, and set off with purpose. He had walked a good distance when he spied a campfire in a shelter of trees across the plain. Andy slowed his pace, and Methuselah instinctively dimmed as he approached. His mouth watered with expectation as he drew to within five hundred yards of the camp. Muffled sounds of people talking and laughing echoed in the blackness as he neared the trees.
“Halt right there!”
The command from behind the nearest tree startled Andy, and he berated himself for allowing hunger to trump concerns for safety. He stopped and searched for the source as Methuselah’s light extinguished itself.
A sturdy soldier approached, his sword ready for business. “Drop your weapon.” On the left arm of his uniform was a crest of two crossed sabers.
Seeing the insignia, Andy sighed with relief, then complied. But as the blade retracted, the man’s eyes grew large. The soldier kept his weapon pointed at Andy’s heart and hesitantly kicked at Methuselah’s hilt, as if expecting it to bite. “Who are you and what are you doing here?” he interrogated, quickly composing himself.
Andy hesitated, pondering how best to respond. The same situation was playing itself out for yet a third time. He smiled as he chose to answer honestly. Maybe it will turn out differently this time.
“Something funny?”
“No, officer. Sorry. I’m Prince Andr
ew, son of King Hercalon V of Oomaldee.”
The soldier offered a forced laugh. “Very funny. Now answer the question.”
“But I am,” Andy insisted.
The man grabbed the front of Andy’s soiled T-shirt in his fist and brought him close. “No one insults the royal family, especially the likes of grubby urchins like you,” he growled and dragged Andy toward the campsite.
Oh well, I tried.
The soldier strutted to the center of the clearing, proudly displaying his catch as four officers closed in from the periphery. Those seated around the campfire ceased their conversations and stared at the spectacle.
“Andy? Is that you?” Alden queried, staring.
Andy beamed.
“You’re back!” Alden rushed to hug him.
Hannah screeched, joyously joining in.
“Andy,” Hans chimed in, laughing as he stood and approached.
The soldier’s face fell and he released Andy from his iron grip. “But how?” was all he could get out amidst the celebration. He shook his head and wiped his hands together to remove Andy’s grime.
“Is my father here?” Andy asked eagerly.
“No. Regent Bellum strongly advised against him joining us based on what happened a year ago,” Hans informed.
“Oh. Well, it’s still great to see you all!”
With no danger afoot, the soldiers blended back into the foliage.
“What happened to you?” Alden queried, examining his earthy ensemble.
Andy chuckled and recounted his encounter with the muddy mama.
“Those would be ogres,” Hans informed. “Lucky for you they don’t have very good eyesight. They’ll eat humans.”
