Vahn and the Bold Extraction, The

by Mason, Shane A.

  ‘So how did you find out? What is your source?’ Lexington asked. ‘And who or what are the Overlords?’

  Con tapped his ear.

  ‘We just listened. Questions are not allowed. The whole town knows about the Marauders, but no one talks about it, not out loud, it is forbidden. In quiet whispers bits of it are passed along, hence we know what we know.’

  ‘Oh, I see.’ Lexington looked deflated. ‘A myth born 30 years ago, with little basis other than people whispering amongst themselves. Interesting.......though.....where there is smoke there is fire.’

  With an idea-lit up face, she faced Melaleuca. ‘This could be a real lead.’

  ‘Lead?’ Con asked. ‘What lead?’

  Melaleuca watched as questions popped into Lexington’s mind and she started to rapid fire them at Con.

  ‘What are those structures on top of all the houses?’

  ‘What structures?’

  ‘The metal looking things? Have you not seen them?’

  ‘Eh, the roof?’

  ‘Interesting. Have you not noticed that the houses are made of an older material, and are of an older design than what you call a roof?’

  Con shook his head.

  ‘We are told nothing. That’s why we need your help.’

  ‘How long has the Vahn been here?’

  Con shrugged his shoulders. He turned to the other Gorks and asked them. They also shrugged their shoulders. ‘It’s always been here for us.’

  ‘Don’t you want to know?’

  ‘We do now,’ Stench said.

  ‘Who are the overlords?’

  Con leapt to answer before the others. ‘New Wakefield has five Overlords. They are the supreme head of our society. They hold the great secrets, the very thing New Wakefield guards from the outside world. But at present there are only three Overlords.’

  Lexington turned about muttering to herself. ‘This does not add up. This building appears no older than a hundred years or maybe two hundred at the maximum. And Harshon said something about her grandparents saying it all changed after World War I, yet that Master Carrion said a thousand year place, but the door we found, so old, so old...’

  Melaleuca shoved Ari closer to Lexington. Her rambling verbal thoughts could give away more than she realised.

  ‘Ah Lex? Shh.’ Ari said.

  ‘...so that means...’ Lexington carried on staring at Ari, miles away calculating facts in her mind. ‘...hmmm...that means...’ She stamped her foot and made an ‘ohhhh,’ noise. ‘Bother. I don’t know what it means.’

  ‘I should think it means that the Vahn was built somewhere between the World War I and these guys being born,’ Melaleuca said.

  ‘Maybe. I don’t know,’ Lexington said. ‘My head hurts. I need pen and paper and my charts.’

  ‘I am not afraid,’ Quixote said. ‘I will go and ask someone.’

  Dunk stepped forward, serious faced, rolling up his sleeve. ‘I asked once and look.’

  The words, ‘Don’t ask, do,’ were carved into his upper arm, the healed scar tissue forming the words.

  The sight of it shook Lexington, jarring her out of her questions. She reached out and ran her finger tips over them.

  ‘I wish we were here to free you......Do they hurt?’

  ‘I can feel nothing there. Not even your fingers touching it.’

  ‘Do not feel sorry for us,’ Con said, pulling Dunk back. ‘We are the Gorks. It is what we expect. We told Dunk off for asking as well. We are the French Resistance. We must stay underground and hidden.’

  ‘And tell me,’ Ari asked. ‘What of your plan. How are you going to overthrow the Overlords? How many troops do you have?’

  Con, Revile, Stench, and Dunk looked amongst themselves, offering blank faces to the cousins.

  ‘Just us so far. We have to be careful when recruiting,’ Revile said.

  ‘Now you are here. You can help us,’ Stench said.

  The other two Gorks nodded in agreement.

  Melaleuca could see Ari’s face questioning how effective such a team would be, and she could see Lexington wanting to leave. However the Gorks were a valuable source of information, and despite the flaws in their tiny organisation, they were the first children that could be counted on as some sort of friends.

  ‘As the Marauders, you could help,’ Con said.

  ‘If we were the Marauders, that is,’ Melaleuca said. ‘It is time for us to go.’

  She grabbed Lexington, motioning for Ari and Quixote to leave.

  ‘But wait. You must join us,’ Con said.

  Desperate hope lined the queer angles of Con’s face and years of suffering fell from his plea. He pawed at Melaleuca’s sackcloth with his skinny knobbly hands, like an orphaned cat afraid it might be left alone again.

  ‘Let us think on all this,’ Melaleuca said back as soft as Lexington might have. ‘We will talk tomorrow perhaps.’

  ‘So you will join us then.’ Con asked.

  ‘Let us ponder. We must, like you, remain unknown.’

  Revile, Stench and Dunk, started to pull at each other playfully celebrating what they thought was a success. ‘Alea Jacta est,’ Dunk said brushing his forehead relieved.

  ‘Shhh,’ Con said to Dunk. ‘Not the forbidden tongue.’

  Lexington picked up on this. ‘Forbidden. Wait, guys, I want to ─ ’

  ‘That’s enough for today, Lex. Sort through what we know and then come back for more later,’ Melaleuca said, pushing her toward the door.

  ‘And what of the Kidnapper?’ Con asked.

  ‘What?’ Melaleuca said. ‘What of it?’

  Con cast his eyes at the floor, gathering his thoughts. ‘Everyone is a little nervous about the Kidnapper. They say taking children is a bad thing. We think he is working for the Marauders, that he is capturing children and massing an army to march on the Overlords. We want to contact him.’

  Lexington’s eyes widened at Melaleuca, as she shook her head. Melaleuca held her hand up. She knew Lexington thought the Gorks were a little crazy and not yet to be believed or trusted, but without yet telling the others, Melaleuca had already decided that they needed the French Resistance as their allies.

  ‘Let us go and we shall talk soon,’ Melaleuca said. ‘You are the commander of the Wolf’s Lair; I am the commander of my team. I have made a decision to leave, now stand aside and all will be well.’

  Con stood aside as the cousins left through the door. As they shuffled into the darkness Con poked his head out and whispered, ‘I know who is kidnapping the children.’

  Melaleuca stopped and turned around.

  Chapter 24 - Innocence risked

  As they headed across the now empty lawn they caught sight of Harshon walking toward them.

  ‘Quickly,’ Harshon said. ‘Follow me.’

  ‘To what? Another form of torture?’ Lexington said.

  ‘Hush, I am sending you home. Hurry. I am risking much. Follow and be quiet.’

  She led them toward a long line of trees that grew beside the Vahn. Once through them, she stopped and said, ‘This is all the time I can buy you. After today you will come back and leave at the same time as the others. The mere fact you come back tomorrow will earn you some respect. It might just be enough to survive here.’

  ‘Why are you doing this?’ Lexington asked. ‘Is it that Karena lady?’

  Harshon touched Lexington’s cheek.

  ‘There are things I should have done many years ago. Now go. I have arranged for Pembrooke to meet you on the outskirts of town.’

  She pushed through the bushes and left.

  ***

  Exhausted they arrived at the outskirts of town, low in spirit. Even Quixote had not cracked a joke or made a smart comment.

  They waited for Pembrooke.

  ‘At least we know what the Kockoroc is,’ Lexington said.

  ‘And Con thinks it is stealing children.’ Quixote laughed, though not as heartily as normal.

  ‘I hardly think our eag
le, which protected us, is going around kidnapping kids,’ Melaleuca said.

  Pembrooke appeared in the distance, the horse-pulled cart trotting toward them as he gee-ed the horses along.

  Arriving he asked them, ‘Masters, misses. ’Ow was ya first day?’

  Groans and moans met him.

  ‘Oh dear.’

  Climbing down from his driver’s seat he helped them onto the wagon. ‘What did they do to you?’

  Quixote showed him the faint rope marks on his arm.

  ‘All of you?’

  They nodded back, and he rolled his sleeves up, showing old rope marks scarring his arms. ‘If I made it through, I’m sure you can.’

  They rode home in silence, glad for the day’s end, glad to be resting. As tired as Melaleuca felt, the day had been a success. Despite the sticky situations, they had got out and were mostly okay. She had after all made the right decision.

  ‘The lady of the house wanted me to take you via the main entrance,’ Pembrooke said, as they entered the oak trees, heading uphill. ‘She said somink about a surprise.’

  ‘I think this morning’s surprise was enough,’ Melaleuca said.

  ‘So do I. Let’s sneaks you in.’

  Half way up the hill Pembrooke turned his cart toward the bushes, and the horses pushed into them. He whipped the reigns.

  ‘Let’s go, c’mon Jess, let’s go Bess.’

  They thrashed, yanking them through into a small, narrow, overgrown track and started bumping along the ruts. A smile returned to Quixote’s face, and Melaleuca saw him perk up.

  ‘Where does this lead?’ He asked.

  ‘Around the back.’

  ‘Why is this here, Pembrooke?’ Melaleuca asked.

  Lexington’s eyebrows shot up.

  ‘Isn’t it obvious cousin dear? So people can sneak in and out. I bet this area once had to defend itself from an attack.’

  ‘Oh?’ Ari said.

  ‘Ancient fortifications always had secret ways in and out,’ Lexington said.

  Despite her tiredness, sun burnt face and sore lips, she sat bolt upright and said, ‘That’s it! Maybe the Cathedral-Mansion was a small castle hundreds of years old with a façade of the mansion built over it. Hence the secret way in.’

  ‘She’s smart that one,’ Pembrooke said.

  ‘Yeah, but is she right?’ Quixote asked.

  ‘Before my time, this whole land was crawling with tunnels, secret roads, and hiding places,’ Pembrooke said.

  ‘And...’ Quixote pressed towards him.

  ‘And that’s all,’ Pembrooke said.

  Lexington beamed.

  ‘Let’s find the ruins of the other Cathedral-Mansions Aunty talked of. If they were castles then the remains should tell us.’

  Melaleuca nodded at the idea, though she felt compelled to say, ‘Or Pembers here can tell us. You know something about Captain Wakefield and that had to be well over a hundred years ago.’

  Pembrooke did not reply.

  The track followed a lazy curve up the hillside, criss-crossing through the bush until it became denser. The horses slowed and started to heave through some bushes blocking their way, dragging the cart through them into a dark underground tunnel. They clip-clopped through the tunnel to the sound of dripping water. After a few minutes the cart headed uphill at a slow pace, the incline getting steeper and steeper.

  Ari leant into Melaleuca and whispered, ‘Have you noticed how Pember’s words change? One minute he speaks normal and then the next he talks funny.’

  Melaleuca whispered back, ‘Do you think he is leaving the notes?’

  ‘Who knows?’

  ‘Whoa girls,’ Pembrooke cried out, bringing the cart to a halt. They heard him jam on the hand brake. The horses snorted with effort. A chain rattled, clanging out of the dark. A crack of light appeared and a large trapdoor the size of a floor rose upwards, clanking and creaking with bits of hay falling from it.

  Pembrooke commanded the horses to gee up and they moved forward, stopping in the middle of hay stacked bales and old farm equipment amidst a cobweb infested shed.

  An odd sense of relief surged through Melaleuca.

  ‘I’m almost glad to be here,’ Lexington said.

  ‘I know what you mean,’ Ari replied.

  ‘And that’s a sad thought really,’ Quixote added, ‘that the mansion feels welcoming.’

  ‘Sneak in the back way,’ Pembrooke said, ‘and freshen up before your Aunt sees you. If I know her she will want to gloat over today.’

  In the girl’s bedroom they flopped on the beds, spent and too tired even to rip off their horrid uniforms. Even the hard mattress felt cushioning to their bodies. Despite her tiredness Melaleuca pushed herself up, slid under the bed, and reached for the bracelets tucked away in their hiding place, and then handed them out.

  With the bracelets on their wrists, energy poured into them. On cue they all sat upright, bright-eyed, faces gleaming, beaming at each other. A great sense of wonder fell over them and like fading ink they watched as their bruises, red marks, sun-burnt and chapped lips all disappeared. In a matter of seconds it was as if the nasty, dreary day had never taken place.

  ‘Like I said,’ Melaleuca said, ‘wait til we get home and put the bracelets on.’

  I was right. We have the power to survive.

  Lexington sidled up to her.

  ‘I think you just got lucky.’

  Quixote bounced off the bed kicking the air, crying out, ‘If that Jerkin guy tries anything again I will boof him down. Master Saurian, eat my toes!’

  He flailed his leg at an imaginary opponent.

  Lexington tittered, and unlike her, she walked over to Quixote’s imaginary foe and slapped him.

  ‘There! Next time show some consideration.’

  Melaleuca and Ari joined in, swinging their pillows, and pretending the day had played out differently. Quixote, of course, went one step further, freeing all the students, and announcing the time of the French Resistance uprising had come and that the Marauders were here to free everyone.

  ‘Keep your voice low,’ Melaleuca said.

  Lexington let her pillow droop in her hand and a pre-announcement look lit up her face.

  ‘When in the costumes, Pemily thought we were these so called Marauders. Even the kids at the borstal thought we were Marauders. And Con said we were Marauders and that these Marauders attacked the town thirty years ago. And Harshon mentioned it was thirty years ago our mother was banished. Do you think our parents were the Marauders?’

  ‘Maybe,’ Ari said. ‘But then Con described great beasts. There are no costumes like that.’

  ‘Well not yet,’ Quixote said.

  ‘True,’ Lexington said. ‘It merits further investigation and is a good hyper-thesis. Behind myth and legend lay truth. This is another good lead.’

  ‘Won’t you get confused with all your theories,’ Ari asked.

  ‘If that happens, then I will bundle them all together to make a…..make a……make a super theory.......though......how come Harshon only knew one of our mothers?’

  ‘Perhaps only one of them went to the Vahn,’ Melaleuca said.

  ‘That does not explain the photos on the wall. It’s almost as if there was only one mother.’

  Quixote hulked down and narrowed his eyes to slits.

  ‘Maybe the others were hidden.’

  ‘And why exactly....’

  Before they argued Melaleuca stepped between them.

  ‘We have the bracelets on. We can survive the Vahn. It may be we can survive anything. We carry on learning to use the costumes first, AND then it will become obvious why we are here. Do I need to go over this again?’

  ‘Agreed,’ Quixote said, ‘but I’ve got an idea. Ari, punch me as hard as you can.’

  Ari balked.

  ‘It’s okay. I have an idea. With the bracelet on I shouldn’t feel it.’

  Understanding, Ari pulled his hand back.

  ‘Yes, though...’ Lexingto
n said seeing his logic’s flaw.

  Ari unleashed a punch. WHAM!! Quixote flew back across the stone floor, smacking his head.

  ‘OWWW!’

  ‘...I would be amazed,’ Lexington carried on, ‘if these costumes were from the attic.’

  ‘You’re right...Ow,’ Quixote said.

  He took his bracelet off, rubbed it on his forehead, though a shiny, hard lump appeared.

  ‘Put the bracelet on again,’ Melaleuca said.

  With the bracelet on the bump shrunk.

  ‘The bracelet did not protect him because this is not a costume from upstairs,’ Lexington said, ‘Which means there is something else special about the costumes, though the bracelet healed him.’

  ‘Which means,’ Ari added, ‘we put the bracelets on at the end of the day and we are back to normal.’

  ‘Apparently,’ Lexington said. She faced away and took a few steps toward the window. ‘Yet I don’t think I can go back. I feel sick thinking of the Vahn. The children suffer. I can’t stand it. I vote we wait til our parents get here.’

  ‘Let’s go to the attic,’ Melaleuca said at Lexington, ‘and search for Vahn costumes. If they are there, they will help us at the Vahn.’

  ‘I don’t want to go back.’

  ‘Sure, okay then. Who’s coming to look with me?’

  The boys followed Melaleuca though Lexington chose to stay behind.

  ***

  Surrounded by the stillness of the cold stonewalls, feelings surfaced from Lexington’s hazy thoughts. Imerelia’s hidden grief, Jerkin’s cruelty, the Gorks and the detention centre, played through her mind.

  So many threads to follow now; which ones, which clues, which direction, which hypothesis? There was no such thing as a super hypothesis. She had made it up, so the others would not know how jumbled she felt. Even now, alone, with begrudging reluctance she admitted it to herself.

  She wrote “why” in the dust on the table, though her inner voice stayed silent.

  ‘Hello?’

  ‘What?’

  ‘What’s wrong with you?’

  ‘The day has been unkind to me as well.’

  ‘In what way?’

  ‘Your emotions and feelings hurt me. I am thought. I need to be fed thinking.’