Vahn and the Bold Extraction, The

by Mason, Shane A.

  Great danger surrounded them now, as she knew a handful of others had known the secret of the bracelets. It would not take long before Captain HeGood would torture someone into talking.

  She had decided to plead with the cousins, risk everything and tell them the truth of what really happened to their parents thirty years ago. Maybe then they would see that New Wakefield was a place, fit only to forsake.

  Chapter 38 - Into the wasteland

  Aunty Gertrude stormed around the silent corridors of the vast Throughnight Cathedral-Mansion, filling herself with its past glory, and letting the histories she had committed to memory filter through her.

  Corridor after corridor, portrait after portrait, statue upon relic upon symbol, she feasted upon it all, making her heart strong for what she knew she must do next - a regretful betrayal needed for the survival of New Wakefield; her New Wakefield.

  ***

  With a cautious swiftness, Melaleuca headed down the earth smelling tunnel, Ari and Quixote treading behind, silenced by their dark surroundings. Melaleuca slowed to a crawl, sensing a change ahead, and reached out and felt a wall.

  ‘Dead end? Quixote, go back and get the ninja costume so I can see in the dark.’

  He was back in a flash, and costumed up, she could see the tunnel diverged to the left and to the right, though the tracks headed right. Trailing after them, they came across where Uncle Bear-Nard had blocked up the tunnel, though rubble lay around where it had been smashed to pieces.

  A dull glow illuminated some of the way beyond it, and a paved floor and lined walls appeared in the tunnel. Faint bursts of misty light spluttered out from tiny tubes on the roof. Melaleuca stopped, and with the others spend a few seconds examining it. The lit section only stretched for about a hundred metres, and had a gentle upwards curve, dropping away again at the other end.

  Ari kicked at the dirt where the ground and the paved floor met unevenly.

  ‘Look. It goes deeper. This floor is part of something else.’

  ‘Yes I can see that,’ Melaleuca said. ‘Note it and let us carry on. We shall return with Lexington and work it out.’

  They passed through it and carried on, though Melaleuca noted those they pursued must have been in a hurry. A flurry of tracks had been left, and they had not bothered to hide them nor disguise them.

  Leading us into a trap, I bet.

  Ahead of them they could see the start of a ladder curling upwards, and two sets of dirty foot prints trod upwards into the trunk of another large hollowed out tree.

  A thrill ran through Melaleuca.

  ‘This is it. Put the Roman soldier outfits on, draw swords, and shields at the ready.’

  They stilled themselves, readying to climb up and jump out, though found it hard to stop sniggering. Every time one of them stopped, one of them set them off again. With the clown costumes on, it seemed impossible.

  ‘Oh to heck with it,’ Melaleuca finally said.

  She raced up the spiral steps and bashed on the inside of the tree.

  The side of the tree fell open, and dirty footprints led out onto a large, branch about four metres above the ground. She crept about 20 metres along the branch, hidden from view by the thick leaves, and crouched down, the unknown environment settling her silliness. She indicated for Ari to come forward and signaled for Quixote to remain where he crouched.

  ‘Check the area for traps. It seems too convenient and quiet,’ she whispered.

  The cousins stared out on a building similar to the Throughnight Cathedral-Mansion, though it gave off a feeling of desolation, as if it had been forsaken long ago. Large chunks of plaster and wood had long since fallen from the walls, revealing the castle walls hidden underneath, and even some of those had crumbled in places.

  Smashed windows let the wind whistle through it and the third storey had bird’s nests and bits of the roof missing, like it had been bombed or burnt. Even the grounds around it yielded faint hints of past gardens amidst the weeds and the debris of wood and junk. The only building that looked half cared for was a set of stables. Behind them wild fields and overgrown paddocks ran right up to the southern barren hills.

  ‘Well?’ Melaleuca asked.

  ‘It’s a trap,’ Ari said. ‘Not a well thought out one, but a trap. See.’ He pointed to a stable door, where a rough looking head could be seen slightly jutting out. ‘And up there.’ In the third storey, a face could be seen appearing and disappearing, looking down on the tree.

  ‘Not too clever,’ Quixote said. ‘They must have known with the bracelets, we would spot it.’

  ‘Maybe it is not a trap,’ Melaleuca said. ‘Maybe they are just the lookout for the trap.’

  ‘Or they are a diversion,’ Ari said.

  ‘Only one way to find out,’ Quixote said.

  He leapt to the ground, screamed, and charged toward the Cathedral-Mansion.

  ***

  A tied up Lexington lay slung over a horse, dosing as it ambled forward. The horse stumbled and Lexington woke with a start, but then remembered she had been kidnapped. With a bag over her head and still wearing the botanist costume, she smelt a change in the vegetation - wet-earth, plant scents; the sort surrounding stagnant waters or muddy dirt, plus far off tinder, dry patches. It seemed a sure sign they rode through hilly country or a land of rough terrain where the water did not flow or spill evenly along its course.

  ‘We are in the southern hills, aren’t we?’

  The horse came to a stop and someone not as rough as the hands that had dragged her away, lifted her to the ground, laying her up against a rock.

  ‘Keep an eye on her,’ said a gruff voice.

  It belonged to the Overlord Ramathor.

  She listened to him walk away, hearing his heavy footsteps kick the dirt. He yelled out more instructions, though his voice did not seem directed toward whoever stood guard over her.

  ‘Don’t worry. He only wants the bracelet. Give it to him and all will be well.’

  She recognized the voice of Quesob as the man that had tried to rob Ari of his bracelet. In his voice she heard a nervous quiver, like he was unsure of what he was doing. For some reason she felt pity for him.

  ‘I remember you,’ Lexington said.

  Quesob held his silence, and Lexington sensed in him a similar reaction as before.

  ‘Tell me your name again,’ Lexington said.

  ‘Please. You are not from here, I know. Roughness does not sit well with you. Please. The bracelet.’

  ‘I should like to see you.’

  She could feel his mix of emotions, and so she goaded him a little more.

  ‘I saw you look at me. My mother said my beauty could stop a rampaging rhino.’

  Melaleuca had the look of a warrior queen and Lexington possessed a breathless charm. Both of them had seared permanent images in Quesob’s mind, and struck a deep chord. His hand shook as he fumbled with the string on the bag, trying to tell himself to leave the bag over her head.

  ‘Did you know your mother?’ Lexington asked.

  ‘W..w..what? M..m.mother is dead.’

  As he tugged the bag off, a flood of relief hit him. Her large brown eyes, and her tender face moved him. Trembling, he moved his hand toward her face.

  Horses whinnied in the background followed by someone crying ‘Yeaargh.’ Turning her head, Lexington saw Daquan riding a horse, with someone else on another horse and a third horse in tow.

  Daquan snorted at Quesob, who now looked foolish. He dismounted and slapped Quesob on the back.

  ‘We should have sired you with a mare years ago. Don’t let this filly fool you.’

  Daquan knelt, placing his ugly face close to Lexington’s.

  ‘Your tricks may work on the weak, but on me they have no effect.’ He grabbed for the cloth bag that had covered her head.

  Lexington grimaced at him.

  ‘My cousins will come after me and they will bring with them hellfire the likes of which you have never seen.’

  ‘Ho
ho,’ Daquan said, pulling the cloth bag back over her head. ‘That’s exactly what I want. You are the bait you see.’

  He threw her over his horse and mounted up, trotting off deeper into the Southern Wasteland, Quesob and Doctor Thurgood in tow.

  They seemed to ride on forever, and the jiggling of her horse made her drowsy. Sleep came and went and she lost track of time, though the air chilled and she smelt snow far off. When they eventually dropped down a steep gravel slope, the descent bashed her around enough to keep her awake.

  The horses finally leveled out on to flat land and a sound of far off rushing waters, got louder and louder, and she smelt fresh icy water.

  A snow fed river?

  As they carried on moving she smelt something rotting and stagnant. A decaying stench built up becoming as putrid as a hundred dead animals. Her insides retched with disgust.

  Something unnerved the horses, and they jostled about not wanting to go forward.

  ‘Move you bucket of pus,’ Daquan roared.

  His horse whinnied in protest, clomping slowly forward.

  ‘Even the horses know vile death when they see and smell it,’ Doctor Thurgood said.

  ‘Then they shall join the dammed,’ Daquan replied.

  Out of nowhere, Lexington heard children whimper from a small distance away, and then plead for help and food.

  ‘Kill them,’ Daquan commanded Quesob.

  ‘Master, I...,’

  ‘DON’T FALTER NOW........Oh give it here.’

  Four swift arrows whistled forward in quick succession followed by four sickening “thwack” noises. Lexington had never heard an arrow hit a human body before, but somehow she knew what had just happened.

  ‘Who are those children?’ she asked.

  No one answered her.

  ‘Are they dead? Did you kill them?’

  She felt sick.

  Before anyone could answer, high above the screech of the Kockoroc burst out of the air. Daquan looked up momentarily confused by it. It screeched and squawked battle cries, warbling high-pitched threatening noises.

  Lexington recognized its cry and yelled, ‘The Kockoroc! You’re done for now. It’s come to save me!’

  Daquan whacked his horse’s rump hard.

  ‘MOVE! Get inside.’

  Quesob cried out, ‘Yearrgh,’ smacking the horses.

  They lurched into motion, jostling Lexington forward at a rough, rapid pace. She heard the giant wings beating down on them and the Kockoroc’s cries and screams getting louder.

  A noise, like the shaking of many trees rustled and then they dropped out of the sunshine into a shadowy, chilled place. The rustling noise sounded again and Lexington heard the Kockoroc screech, but its voice now sounded far away.

  ‘Take her hood off,’ Daquan said.

  Quesob pulled it off, averted his eyes and untied her. Lexington blinked, adjusting her eyes to the sudden low-lit area. Overhead a tangle of thorny bushes grew. Ancient, thick trunks intertwined a great arcing roof across them through which small shafts of light twinkled. Nearby a vast, deep, clear pool lay.

  Lexington crawled to the edge of it.

  The pristine spring waters bubbled up from the middle of it, and three rivers flowed out of the pool, crawling toward the outside under the cover of the bushes.

  The horses stood hoofing the ground, disturbed by the place. Behind them lay a great menacing cave; its dark, unlit innards silent and cold.

  ‘What is this place?’ Lexington asked.

  The great plants overhead caught her attention; especially as the botanist costume still clad her body.

  ‘These plants, are they of the species vagaria? I mean the trunks have an almost extinct cretaceous look about them.’

  ‘Plants are the last things you need worry about,’ Daquan said.

  He drew out a long sword from the saddle of his horse. The muscles in his forearms knotted as he griped the hilt of it with both hands. Around his wrist, Lexington noted a bracelet that looked similar to the ones they wore, though his was visible.

  ‘No time to lose,’ he shouted, and swung the sword high, descending it toward her head.

  Adrenalin pumped through her body, and time appeared to slow down. Her pupils dilated and she watched the light reflect with scintillating beauty off the blade as sailed by her head narrowly missing her ears. The tip of the blade thudded into the dirt beside her.

  ‘I will ask you once. Give me the bracelet and your end shall be swift.’

  She thought of Melaleuca’s trust and of her own gentleness, and then lay down, spreading her arms out.

  ‘Come and take it. If you can.’

  Daquan screamed and leapt on top of her, pounding and pounding her, years of pent up desperation raging out of control. He kicked and kicked and kicked her body until he lathered himself into a senseless rage, tossing her body around like a rag doll. Like a madman he ripped and tore at the invisible bracelet on her wrist that he could feel but not see, digging his fingers in with all his might, shrieking and shouting profanities.

  Quesob vomited, and Doctor Thurgood stood silent, white with fright at Daquan’s brute rage.

  Daquan stopped, sweat drenching his body, frothing at his mouth, breathing wildly, and stared maniacally at Lexington’s now limp body.

  Lexington lifted her head up and stood up.

  ‘That was truly wild,’ she said.

  Daquan flopped to his knees limp, trying to regain his breath. Confused and hurt, he suddenly as impotent as a venomous spider empty of poison. A twisted wretched look rent his face.

  ‘Please give it to me,’ he asked.

  She shook her head, and dusted dirt off her body.

  I can’t be hurt.

  He started to whimper a little and spoke in a simpering voice.

  ‘I bet your parents never spoke about me. Your mother Karena and I were betrothed.’

  Lexington raised one eyebrow.

  ‘I was once as handsome as a prince. But your mother,’ he spat her name, ‘Karena reneged, betraying me, choosing a freak instead.’

  ‘My mother’s name was Eugenia. Are you sure you have the right person?’

  ‘You have the BRACELET! They wore the bracelet. I have the right person.’

  He pulled a strained face and then calmed himself.

  ‘Perhaps now?’ Doctor Thurgood asked.

  ‘Soon. I think...,’ Daquan said eyeing Lexington’s clothes, ‘...if the bracelet cannot come off then remove anything that powers it. QUESOB! Remove her clothes.’

  ‘Master?’

  ‘All of them, now. It’s the clothes that are powered by the bracelet. Remove them and let’s see how protected she is.’

  Under silent protest and quietly apologizing to her, Quesob removed Lexington’s clothes.

  Daquan crashed his sword down upon her arms, shattering his blade. He dropped to his knees once more, a hurt look crossing his face as if he was about to cry.

  ‘By the transplanted, only a truly innocent child could enlist the bracelet’s protection.’ He shook his head, staring at the ground with a vacuous want. ‘None of the children from New Wakefield could ever have found their way in, ever.’

  He threw his head back, and laughed so loud that saliva flew out of his insane mouth. ‘So like the bracelets to pick one who could open the way, but won’t. Purity of heart unlocks the way, but purity of heart does nothing with it.’

  Confused, Quesob squeezed his bottom lip. He had lost track of anything, of where they were, and of what they were trying to achieve. Since the High Galelain Daquan had become drunk with an insatiable desire for power more than the bracelets, and all the talk of freedom had vanished, replaced by some new babble about the hidden truth in the Southern Wasteland. None of it made any sense.

  Heart pounding and with a dry mouth, Quesob swallowed, and stepped up to his master.

  ‘Master. What are we doing here? This is the trap to get the bracelets back?’

  Daquan spun about glaring, as if
he had betrayed him.

  ‘What are we doing here? Doing here? Am I the only one who knows our legends? In there. Look!’ he shrieked at Quesob, pointing to the dark, wide-mouthed cave. ‘In there is the real treasure. Power! Power without end. Power beyond all. It's what New Wakefield guards you fool. All that babble about discipline is bunkum. New Wakefield exists to protect this. And I intend to get it.’

  ‘What are you talking about?’

  This was not the man he had followed most of his life.

  ‘I need those bracelets to enter the inner reaches of the cave, without them I cannot. For 1600 years the secret of power has lain dormant in there and now I want it.’

  ‘Excuse me!’ Lexington said. ‘Perhaps I could go in and get this thing for you and end this silly game.’

  Daquan dashed to her, sticking his face right in hers.

  ‘You think me a fool. Then you would have it and not me. No we wait for the prey to arrive and then we spring the trap. But first one more thing.’

  Daquan snapped his fingers and Doctor Thurgood appeared at his side. Grabbing some rope, Daquan commanded Quesob to tie Lexington up.

  Quesob wrapped rope around her body, binding her loosely so she could move if she chose to. He bunched the loose rope up and tucked it under her body, then smiled and apologised under his breath to her.

  Daquan sat next to Lexington and then nodded at Doctor Thurgood, who uttered the name, “Nap Retep.”

  Daquan fell backwards, and “goo-ed” and “gaa-ed” much to the wonderment of Lexington. The flesh on his face lost all wrinkles and his permanent snarl gave way to a look of smooth innocence. Even his fat, hairy body seemed younger and more docile looking.

  Fascinated, Lexington pushed some of her fingers through the rope, touching him. His skin felt young and as smooth as freshly spun silk.

  ‘What has happened to him?’

  Doctor Thurgood came forward kneeling beside both of them. ‘His mind has become a young baby, and so his body is responding to his limbic impulses.’