by Shane Mason
‘What? Who told you of the Kockoroc? There is no Kockoroc.’ He bent closer. ‘Hurry back to your rooms to play. Lest your Aunt see you.’
‘But we were going outside,’ Quixote said.
Melaleuca tapped her nose and winked at him. ‘Come on Quixote, let’s go back up stairs.’
Quixote nodded, understanding what she meant, and along with Ari they headed back upstairs.
‘Ahem,’ Uncle Bear-Nard coughed and then pointed at the back stairs. They disappeared half way up the back stairs and stopped.
‘Listen for anyone,’ Melaleuca said. ‘We shall sneak out through the kitchen.
‘Um, where’s Lex?’ Ari said.
‘Probably reducing the costumes to math,’ Quixote said.
Melaleuca laughed at the truth of his words and said with a certain resignation, ‘Come on, let’s get her. All of us.’ She gazed at Quixote. ‘And between you and Lex...well...just stick together.’
In the attic Lexington preened herself in the mirror admiring her Victorian detective costume. Quixote dashed up to her first, earning a stern stare from Melaleuca.
‘What are you?’ Quixote asked.
‘A detective,’ Lexington replied.
‘Good choice Lex,’ Melaleuca said impressed.
Lexington’s long hair flowed out from the weird hat to a checkered cape she wore around her shoulders. The cape reached to her knees and a second, shorter cape that came off the shoulders fell to her elbows. She reached in and pulled out a large curved pipe.
‘Good,’ Quixote said trying not to snigger. ‘You can work out what a cock is doing in a rock.’
Lexington screwed her face up at him.
‘Uncle just said that a cock in a rock has been spotted,’ Quixote said.
‘Curious,’ Lexington said, having little clue of what he spoke about. She took a few puffs on the pipe. ‘Arrgh! Ptuuueeh,’ she gasped and then half spat. ‘It tastes horrible.’
Quixote tugged on the shoulder cape and poked Lexington’s hat.
‘What exactly does your costume do then?’
‘Elementary,’ she said and gave him a strange look. ‘It provides enhanced cerebral observation.’ She peered down her nose at Quixote and Ari. ‘Why have your bracelets been removed?’
Melaleuca reported what had happened while Ari searched through the costumes for something better to wear. Lexington’s mind whizzed through the details in super quick time.
‘I deduce to non-bracelet wearers we must appear different than how we appear to each other. Therefore Pemily and Pembrooke saw, not yourselves accoutred roughly, but whatever these costumes represent.’
‘What about the word “Marauders” though?’ Ari asked.
‘Quite,’ Lexington said.
‘Quite.’ Quixote imitated her, an annoyance she ignored.
‘A marauder is a ruffian, a veritable cad, a low-life, someone who would steal from his own mother,’ Lexington said. ‘I need to hunt for clues.’
‘What about your hippopotamus-thesis?’ Quixote said.
What about it? For some reason its urgency had diminished. She pulled her bracelet off and realised that, unlike the princess’s dress, she had stayed in character and not once had she dropped out of it.
‘I think perhaps we should experience what these outfits offer Mel. My hyper-thesis shall have to be...changed...again.’
Melaleuca could see Lexington’s brain over-thinking.
‘Lex, keep moving forward.’
‘Hey, get this,’ Ari yelled and raced back to them.
He held up a loincloth, feathered headgear, and a quiver of arrows, a tomahawk and some moccasins.
‘A North American Indian. I bet this will help me feel the Ethmare.’
‘We don’t quite know if the Ethmare is real Ari,’ Lexington said. ‘And besides ─ ’
‘If you must,’ Melaleuca said, ‘get a costume to work it out but Ari will do as he must.’
‘Oh. I see.’
An obvious peeved expression flashed back at Melaleuca, and Lexington twiddled with the pipe.
‘How do we even know we are supposed to use these costumes?’
‘We were sent here to find these. How can you deny that?’
‘I don’t, though I neither know why?’
‘Keep...moving...forward, and we will find out if it is relevant.’
Lexington pushed her bracelet back on with a sharp haughtiness and Melaleuca could tell that many questions still filled her mind. The feeling, go out the back now, flashed through Melaleuca and she saw why.
‘Quixote has gone. Quick. We’d better find him.’
They headed out of the attic and two eyes appeared behind two small peepholes in the ceiling of the roof. The Harbinger watched them as they left - gladdened they had discovered the bracelets and costumes, yet perplexed how they found them so quickly.
***
Uncle Bear-Nard’s afternoon walks had stopped since the cousins had arrived. They had proved more troublesome than he had thought. Perhaps a short wander in the forest and some fresh bracing mountain air would help clear his head. He did, after all have many things to ponder. For one, what was going to happen to the cousins? How would they take to life here in New Wakefield? They could not stay at the Cathedral-Mansion forever. What to do, What to do?
‘Where do you think you are going?’ Aunty Gertrude said from behind him.
It took him by surprise. ‘Nothing, dear, nothing.’
‘I did not ask what you were doing, merely where you are going?’
‘Oh. I see. Just for a walk.’
She eyed him with suspicion which really meant nothing. It was just her way - everything was suspicious until proved otherwise. He waited for a stern opinion or a harsh roasting but instead she spoke calmly.
‘Good. Perhaps barefooted might be more suitable.’
With little thought of answering back he bent down and started to pull his shoes off. ‘Pray may I ask as to why this time?’
She smiled as much as she could smile these days.
‘A memory filled with holes. Tut tut. The Thistle Ceremony is only weeks away. Since the brats arrived, you have lost your edge. The pain should be good for you. Pembrooke has planted an extra special crop of Norwegian Thistle’s this year. I suggest you walk through them, and...’ One of her nasty glints shone in her eyes. ‘...and see if you can withstand a Forest Thistle. To prove it bring one back for me.’
His face registered shock.
‘Well don’t look so alarmed. We do this every year.’
He nodded and saying nothing, left, barefooted.
‘Tell Jeeves to go and get supplies today not tomorrow,’ Aunty Gertrude yelled out after him, ‘and watch out for Pembrooke as well. He seemed upset before and said he was going into the forest to un-muddle his head. And tell the brats to keep quiet. Heavens to Murgatroid, I heard such a din before. Lucky for them I did not catch them.’
***
Outside Ari could hear Quixote kicking up a rumpus way off in the distance and headed for the fields beyond the stone wall. There close to the forest’s edge Quixote rambled around pretending to be a cowboy, firing off his pistol. Ari placed his hand over his mouth and pretended to make an Indian battle cry and an immense noise filled the air, sounding as chilling as a hundred men yelling in full battle charge. Ari stopped, amazed at what had just poured forth from him. Quixote spun about and yelled, ‘INJJUUNNN,’ and drawing a bead on Ari charged at him, firing bullet after bullet into his body though the hot lead bullets disappeared into nowhere. Ari blinked and shielded his eyes from the gun-flash bursting out of the muzzle, and then ran at Quixote and kicked the pistol out of his hand. Quixote stared at his empty hands and at the smoking pistol on the ground, and then at the others rushing up to meet him.
Melaleuca surveyed the scene, throwing an unpleasant look at Quixote.
‘I shudder to ask,’ Lexington said. ‘Pray tell how you knew Ari would remain unharmed.’
Quixote
looked the closest he had ever come to shame. ‘I didn’t. I don’t know what came over me. I’m sorry.’
‘I do not think we should continue to underestimate these accoutrements of great, seemingly accomplished power hence forth,’ Lexington said in a rush. ‘Elementary logic dictates circumspection and may I be as forward as to suggest that in due consideration of forethought and sagacity that a caveat be imposed until further illumination.’
‘What?’ Melaleuca said.
‘It’s blastingly clear, dash it all. These bracelets should be treated with caution lest it not be a window smashed but a wall bashed, and as my auricular apparatus still smarts from Ari’s bellicose lung inflated bellowing.’
‘Take the bracelet off and then speak again,’ Melaleuca said.
Lexington tugged at her bracelet and then spoke. ‘We need to be careful. We know nothing about what these are capable of.’ She motioned toward Quixote. ‘He had no control of himself.’
‘No nor did you,’ Melaleuca said. ‘Did you hear the big words you just used?
Lexington looked puzzled.
‘Exactly. Now...’
Quixote picked up the pistol and took off again yelling, ‘Sorry. Won’t happen again. Notes said play and use imagination.’
He started to pretend to ride a horse fast and then slow and then galloped until he became lost again in his imagination.
‘You need to stop him,’ Lexington said.
‘Let him go,’ Melaleuca replied. ‘The notes said to follow our hearts and even though we aren’t sure who is leaving them, it will be okay.’
‘Lex. Relax,’ Ari said trying to reassure her. ‘These costumes give us the power to find out what’s going on,’
She slipped her bracelet on and thought.
‘That’s just the problem. We don’t know how much power or what that power is capable of.’
Quixote ran around flipping his pistol in and out at lightning speed and started ducking, bobbing and weaving behind bushes, and leaping on and off small mounds of grass-covered earth.
‘Well, let’s see then,’ Melaleuca said.
She leapt into the air and somersaulted. With a sense of freedom she cavorted through the air, leaping and bounding like a lamb in spring time.
‘We will be fine out here Lex,’ Ari said before taking off.
He pranced around in circles letting out great whooping sounds, dancing up a storm of savage energy.
A swelling feeling of excitement swirled amongst them as if the dams holding in the mystery broke loose. Nothing seemed to hold them back and an utter sense of freedom overtook them. Invincible and invulnerable they all let the costumes take them over. As Quixote rode his horse, Ari strode the land feeling it beneath him, and Melaleuca delighted in the feel of flying through the air. Even Lexington felt her mind sharpen though she impatiently waited for them to finish so she could start her investigation.
Lexington stood in one spot, her mind whirling with ideas while watching the others in action, trying to calculate what it all meant. She quelled her mind and tried to relax her fears. She could feel her intellect warring with a desire to play.
While Melaleuca felt alive and buzzing with energy, Lexington’s words stirred in her. As thrilling as the costumes were, many questions had yet to be answered - especially around their parents. The note said that soon all would be revealed but had said nothing of their parents’ whereabouts. And she could see Lexington waiting to talk to her. She somersaulted over to Lexington.
‘Okay. Grab the boys and let’s start planning how we are going to move forward. Your brains, our energy.’
Lexington beamed bright at this suggestion.
They turned to look in the boys’ direction - they were nowhere to be seen.
Chapter 16 - The Borstal
The Harbinger watched the cousins from one of his many hiding places though instead of the children he saw four Marauders. Lexington appeared as a gaunt-looking lady, clad in detective clothes, while Melaleuca twisted and turned - a sleek gymnast cart-wheeling gracefully. A tanned muscley North American Indian chatted freely to an unshaven cowboy who looked as if he had never bathed. Confused how they found them so quick, though pleased they had, the Harbinger walked toward the forest with stealth. He headed uphill until he reached a large tree, similar to the trees on the front lawn. He sat in-between a pair of roots and hid himself. Rough bark pressed into his skin as he peered through the cover of the trees. A gentle wind blew, breaking open a gap large enough just to make out the Throughnight Cathedral-Mansion in the distance.
Without warning someone loomed over him and yanked him to his feet, spun him around and stuck a knife under his throat.
‘Don’t move,’ Argus North rasped and tightened his arm under the Harbinger’s throat.
The Harbinger stiffened.
‘Do you hear?’ Argus said.
‘Yes.’
‘I ask the questions and you answer right away. If you hesitate, I’ll know you’re lying. Understand?’
Argus squeezed his throat a little more.
‘Y...y..yes.’ The Harbinger tilted his head back to keep his breathing clear.
‘Where am I?’ Argus asked.
‘New Wakefield.’
‘Why is it called Agorrah?’
‘Named that before the British arrived.’
‘How do I get out of here?’
‘B’barakai’s Incognia, mountain cave, or one of the great rivers of Golgotha.’
‘Do you know the way?’
The Harbinger hesitated.
‘Answer!’
Argus pressed the knife in.
‘It’s...it’s been too many years,’ the Harbinger said.
Argus felt the tension melt from the Harbinger’s body, as if the memory weakened him. He let him go and spun him around.
‘Take me to one of them.’
‘Perhaps, Argus,’ the Harbinger said, glaring at him with an inner strength. ‘But if you remember, you will know the way.’
Argus brandished his knife close to the Harbinger’s face.
‘How’d you know my name? Talk!’
The Harbinger reached up and pushed the blade to one side, backing away unafraid. He sat on the tree root, relaxed and calm.
‘It was hoped that being bought back, you would remember. The outside world has made you such a fighter.’
Understanding flashed across Argus’s face.
‘You’re with that bloody Antavahni.’
‘What of Antavahni? Tell me. Did he make it?’
‘Nah. He died and you will too if I don’t get out of this place.’
The Harbinger lifted his arms up, extending them out wide. ‘Then do it. Take your blade and perform it quickly.’
Argus jabbed his knife forward and snarled. ‘Don’t mess with me. I have killed greater than you.’
‘Argus - that might be true if you knew who I were.’
‘Last chance granddad. Tell me why I should let you live.’
‘I found you as a child wandering amongst the Great Southern Wasteland, Golgotha as it has become known over the ages. After months of observation I selected you. It was I who put you on the raft and set you afloat down the river.’
‘LIAR! LIAR! LIAR! YOU LIE!’
‘Then explain this land?’
Argus screamed and fell to his knees, grabbing his hair. ‘I CAN’T!!’
He pulled his backpack off and pulled out a video camera.
‘I’m not crazy,’ Argus said with a maniac expression. ‘Not crazy. See I’ve got it all on this. I have to get out of here to prove it to them.’
The Harbinger looked on him with pity.
‘You want revenge don’t you?’
Argus’s rage abated.
‘What do you care, anyway?’
The Harbinger rose up and an ominous air developed around him.
‘The whole world is about to suffer greatly. You have been groomed in secret...though....’ He looked away, doubtful. ‘Perhaps...
..perhaps we were wrong.’
‘Oh god, let me guess. You want me to babysit those kids.’
‘Your job is simple. You came from the Men of Ori. You are to go back to the Men of Ori. You are to tame them and to lead them.’
Incredulous, Argus sneered at him.
‘None of that makes sense. Look at me. I’m young again. I have wealth waiting for me. I don’t want to be here!’
‘None of us ever do, especially not at the end. We are a somewhere-else-age. Everyone dreams of somewhere else, never where they are. You are here now. That will not change.’
Still suspicious, Argus conceded he needed information to get out of the land, and so far the Harbinger seemed the only one that knew anything.
‘What’s with those kids anyway?’
The Harbinger smiled, pleased at the question.
‘Good. Now you’re thinking. Questions. Questions lead to answers. Answers you need,’ the Harbinger said in a chirpy tone. ‘Follow me and I will show you.’
‘Wait! Who the hell are you?’
The Harbinger grinned. ‘As I am now, I am the Harbinger. I am the last one to carry the complete knowledge. Come, follow.’
Argus and the Harbinger sat hidden behind a tree, peering out. A cowboy and an Indian tore across the fields behind the Cathedral-Mansion, and then a Gymnast and a Victorian sleuth ran after them.
‘Who are they?’ Argus asked.
‘The children.’
‘They look nothing like them.’ Argus snorted in anger. ‘This explains nothing.’
‘Those are the children. They are wearing Pangean Bracelets that bestow upon them powers. Powers that only work when they wear the costumes hidden in the Mansion and when the person is an innocent.’
‘Innocent.’ Argus scoffed. ‘Everyone is guilty of something.’
‘In the mind of the innocent all the possibilities in the world sit before them. They can do anything as they do not yet know what cannot be done. It is an uncorrupted mind.’
‘What a pile of ─ ’
‘Their parents taught them through play, and taught them to teach themselves. They are perfect.’
