face.
‘My friends,’ said the younger of the two, stretching out his arms in a mock greeting. ‘Welcome to our little get together.’
His voice had an eastern European lilt to it, but this time it was genuine, as opposed to some of the terrible accents they had encountered throughout the course of the dream.
‘My name is Skeiron, and this is my brother, Kaikias,’ he continued. ‘We shall be your hosts for the evening. I’m pleased to see that most of you are keen to get stuck in, but I believe we also have a party-pooper in our midst.’
The two men began walking down either side of the table. Ryan was rooted to the spot, unable to work out whether he should run, fight, or go and sit with the others. However, for the time being he felt strangely invisible, so he remained where he was as the quirky drama unfolded. The two men stopped next to Tristram’s prone form. Ryan’s tutor had not moved since he had landed, and with all the shattered crockery around and beneath him Ryan was beginning to fear the worst.
The younger brother, Skeiron, leaned over so that his face was only a few centimetres from Tristram’s. He gave a gruesome smile.
‘Hello Mr Ainsworth,’ he leered. ‘Fancy seeing you here. Were you going somewhere?’
‘Hello Dmitry,’ Tristram replied. His lips barely moved, but the relief Ryan felt from hearing his voice was immense. ‘I was just going to the toilet. I don’t think much of your hospitality so far.’
‘I’m sorry you feel that way,’ said Skeiron. ‘We’ll make every effort to ensure things are more comfortable for you from now on.’
He clapped his hands twice and the two hideous guards came marching round to his side.
‘We have a special guest,’ he sneered to them. ‘Put him at the head of the table.’
Immediately one of the guards took Tristram by the throat, while the other grabbed him by the crotch. Together they lifted him clean off the table and carried him like a sack of potatoes to the far end of the room, while he made a series of strange gurgling noises.
Daisy let out another impromptu squeal, which seemed to delight the two brothers.
‘My dear, we are just showing him to his seat,’ grinned Skeiron as Tristram was cast into the chair at the end of the table.
The two men continued striding down the room towards the rest of the group, but the malevolence in their eyes was too much for Ryan.
‘Leave them alone!’ he said, not quite sure why he expected them to actually listen to him.
Both men stopped in their tracks and looked at him as though he had just appeared out of thin air. The older of the two, Kaikias, was on Ryan’s side of the table, and walked slowly over with the same leering grin on his face.
‘Well, well, look who we have here, Skeiron. It’s the one that got away.’
He was not much taller than Ryan, and certainly weighed less, but as he came and stood well inside the boy’s personal space, his pallid eyes boring into him, Ryan suddenly realised who he was facing and was filled with dread.
‘Ah…’ drawled Kaikias, looking over his shoulder and giving his brother a wink. ‘He remembers who we are. We really thought you would enjoy spending time with us, but you chose this cretin instead.’
He pointed at Tristram, who was sitting with his head in his hands while Daisy stroked his arm anxiously.
Ryan remembered all right. He would not easily forget his dizzying ride out of the Nightmare Realm with the two bat-like creatures in pursuit. The last thing he had seen before Tristram had come to his rescue were those haunting eyes. Faced with them again, with his tutor seemingly out of action, it was certainly not the time for heroics. Still, it wasn’t going to stop him from saying something unhelpful.
‘From what I remember, he kicked both your butts.’
It was probably a stupid thing to do, but from where Ryan was standing he figured he didn’t really have a lot to lose. However, the comment only served to broaden the grin on Kaikias’ face.
‘And look at your friend now,’ he crowed, walking over and grabbing Tristram by the hair.
‘Please, don’t…’ cried Daisy.
‘Not much use to you now, is he?’ called Kaikias, ignoring her.
Ryan had no reply. His capacity for defiant quips only extended so far.
‘Perhaps you would like to join him?’
Skeiron’s voice in his right ear came as a major shock. Ryan had no idea how the other brother had crept up on him without being noticed. Recognising that he was hopelessly out of his depth, Ryan obeyed. He took up the seat opposite Daisy, with Sophie to his right and Tristram, on the end, to his left. He tried to give Daisy a reassuring smile, but failed. Instead, he caught Jack’s eye. His friend was sitting next to Daisy, looking neither afraid nor angry about what was going on; merely perplexed. He gave Ryan a nod, which in the school yard would have been a casual, ‘All right?’
Given the current circumstances, Ryan had to assume it was a genuine question. He gave a nod in reply, which he hoped was as reassuring as possible.
‘Right,’ said Skeiron in a mockingly chirpy manner. ‘Now that you’re all sitting comfortably, it’s time for the festivities to begin. The food will be with you shortly. But first, how about some music?’
He clapped his hands and an organ struck up somewhere deep within the castle. Its mournful discord was apparently sweet music to the ears of the brothers.
‘Ah, that is better,’ cried Skeiron, breathing deeply and dramatically, savouring every note. He gave a pirouette and dropped smoothly down on to one knee next to Daisy, offering her a black rose from his lapel. To Ryan’s right, Kaikias made the same gesture to Sophie.
‘May I have this dance?’ they asked in unison.
Sophie looked repelled by the idea and Daisy was genuinely scared, but both girls got to their feet; there was little point in resisting. The brothers swept them away, leading them in a sickening dance to the dreadful music, which rose and felling in an awkward and uncomfortable rhythm. Ryan was beginning to feel the anger well up inside him again, when he felt a hand touch his left arm.
He jumped, and turned to see Tristram staring fixedly at him through the ragged locks of his dark mane.
‘Ryan, listen to me very carefully,’ he hissed. Only his eyes and lips were moving, and Ryan understood from his gaze that it was dangerous for them to be seen talking. He gave a nod and pretended to be enthralled by the foul dance going on around him.
‘These two men are Vladimir and Dmitry Kramarenko. They are both extremely dangerous. At the Academy they are known as the Puppet Masters, for they take delight in manipulating others and have a flair for the over-dramatic. Believe me when I say that you must not, under any circumstances, confront them. They are powerful Dreamweavers, or Nightweavers as they like to be known, and they are equally as cruel. As you can see, they like to play with their prey. But eventually they will grow tired and before that time comes we need to be out of here.’
‘Are you okay then?’ asked Ryan through gritted teeth.
‘I’m fine,’ Tristram replied grimly. ‘I’ve been playing up to it in the hope that it would spark the Academy into life. However, I think that whatever they have woven to keep us here is also preventing help from arriving. Either that or they are not watching us at all. I dearly hope it’s the former.’
‘What’s your plan then?’ asked Ryan, grimacing as Kaikias’ hand roved down Sophie’s lower back and beyond.
‘Wait for an opportunity, then cause as much carnage as possible,’ said Tristram simply. ‘When that happens you need to take the others and get as far away from these guys as possible. Do whatever it takes, but just put as much distance between yourselves and them as you can. Take your friend too, for they will not spare him. With any luck I’ll be able to break the ‘weave that’s holding us captive and we can get the hell out of here. Understood?’
Ryan gave a curt nod.
‘What about you?’ he hissed.
Tristram’s grip on his arm tightened, and he winced.
/>
‘Do not think of me,’ said his tutor in a hoarse whisper. ‘This is beyond you Ryan. This is life and death now!’
Ryan pulled his arm away from Tristram and steeled his gaze on Sophie. He hated being told that he wasn’t up to something. It was just the sort of crap he got from his dad. What hurt more was that this time it was true.
The music rose to an excruciating crescendo and the dance reached its climax. Both girls were returned to their seats; traumatised, but otherwise unharmed. Skeiron and Kaikias, both wearing sickening grins, came over and stood either side of Tristram, who had resumed his defeated posture.
‘What do you think brother?’ smirked Kaikias. ‘Something for the boys now?’
‘Of course,’ agreed Skeiron, clearly revelling in their despicable double-act. ‘We wouldn’t want them to miss out, would we?’
He clapped his hands and the organ started up again, this time accompanied by a sitar and a set of bagpipes. It was a more up-tempo number, but that really was all that could be said for it. The odd combination of instruments, coupled with the dreadful way in which they were being played, resulted in a hideous din.
A few moments after it had started, the doors at the end of the hall flew open again and a long line of women in black clothes entered. None of them moved in time with the music, which in any case would have been almost impossible, but from a distance their skinny forms and bare midriffs looked surprisingly appealing. For a brief moment Ryan thought their luck might have
Dreamweavers: Awakening Page 51
