What had he done? He put his hand in the center of the circle.
Nothing.
He stood up.
Still nothing.
A whirring sound interrupted his investigation. Grim craned his neck to find a giant structure sailing far above the trees. It was a sleek wood and metallic ship attached to the underside of a massive elongated balloon. At its aft end were propellers moving its great hulk through the sky. Grim sucked in his breath as he watched it go by, slow and powerful, like a whale.
Beside it flew smaller ships with a similar design and turbines that propelled them with ease around its great bulking weight like an escort.
Grim side-stepped as he watched, kicking the stones askew. The air ships soared toward a snow-capped mountain in the distance upon which he could see a great city with a large castle-like structure.
He exhaled.
Flying air ships.
Grim scanned the trees, wondering what sort of land he’d come to. He’d never of heard of flying galleons.
Then he jumped.
A person stood at the edge of the clearing. It was a girl close to his own size and age. She looked similar to their neighbor, Ming, with tanned skin and almond-shaped eyes. She wore a long, midnight blue dress with a white cape around her shoulders. A thick leather belt entwined her waist with pouches and odd gadgets hanging from it. Strapped across her head were goggles, not much larger than his own. Everything else would have appeared normal about the girl except she had bright purple hair that stood on end, in a higgledy-piggledy sort of manner. Grim could just imagine how quickly Aunt Patrice would pounce on her with a brush.
The young girl opened her mouth to speak and the words that came out were from a foreign language. Yet what was even more peculiar was that Grim completely understood her.
“Hello,” said the girl.
He tried to figure out how he was able to comprehend her. He wasn’t sure how to respond.
“Hi there,” Grim finally said, and his mouth dropped open. The words that came out of his mouth were in the same foreign language.
“MynmisTreena,” said the girl. She spoke rather fast and peered into the forest. Her hands and feet fidgeted like she needed to go to the bathroom.
Grim followed her gaze into the dark woods, but found nothing there.
“I’m sorry, what did you say?”
“MynameisTreena.”
Grim blinked. “A little slower, please.”
The girl giggled. “My… name… is …Treena.”
Grim nodded.
Much better.
“I’m Grim.”
“What-a-funny-name,” she said, a little slower than usual, but not by much. “I once met a man who had an odd name. He was from the Southlands. They’re strange down there. Are you from the Southlands?” The girl sucked in her breath only at the end like she was rushing to get it all out at once.
“I don’t know where here is,” Grim said. “What language are we speaking, and you talk very fast.” Grim tried to casually kick the stones into a little pile behind him. He needed them to get back and didn’t want this girl fiddling with them.
She giggled, exhaled, and then spoke at a pace that might be considered more normal, but not by much. It was like listening to chipmunk-speak. “This is the Forest of Nothingness,” she said and glanced behind Grim’s legs. “And what do you mean ‘what language’? There is only the Common Tongue. Well, except for The Unseen. They speak a language of their own.”
This was all proving a bit much: stones that hurled you to strange lands, flying air ships, mysterious languages, and spiked purple hair.
“The Unseen?” he asked.
“Yes, the ‘Not Humans’,” Treena said with a definitive nod. “But you can see them if you wear these.” She pulled her goggles over her face. She looked around the forest and then jumped as she focused on Grim once more.
Grim looked skyward for more airships, but the skies were still, as were the trees. There were no birds or forest creatures around, making the woods uncomfortably quiet.
“Did you see the dirigible?” Treena asked.
“You mean that flying air ship?”
She nodded. “You’re not from around here, are you?”
Grim shook his head. “What country is this? Are you alone here?”
“I’m with the Resistance,” she said. “We’re fighting for our freedom. I’m not sure what a country is, but this land is in the Dominion of Simeon Manor.” She pointed to the snow-capped mountain.
“Then this isn’t Earth,” he muttered. He rolled his eyes after he said it.
Duh. Obviously.
“Earth?” asked the purple-haired girl. She looked puzzled. “What is that?”
“Never mind.” He was about to ask about the funky hair when a squealing sounded in the distance. A look of worry swept across Treena’s face as she paled. She looked like she was about to make a run for it.
“We must go! The Syndrone comes!”
“What is the Syndrone?”
“A creature of flesh and metal. It eats your soul!” The strange girl peered into the woods and shuffled her feet. The sound was inching closer. “We must go now!”
“I have to go back,” Grim said. He only hoped he knew how.
“Where?”
“Home.”
Treena’s lips twitched. “I must go now. Bye Grim!” She then hitched up her dress and dashed into the woods.
The sound of trees being ripped from the ground swept towards him as the Syndrone, or whatever it was, barreled through the forest. And a hideous black bird with a jagged beak was perched in the branches studying him with one yellow eye — a mechanical one that protruded like a telescope. It squawked with a wretched voice that Grim knew to be an alert to whatever was rushing towards him. The Syndrone would be coming for him.
Grim had a thought. It was quick and sudden. He rearranged the stones in reverse order: black, blue, purple, red, orange, yellow, green. It was the only thing he could think of.
And now, at the edge of the clearing, a thing of lumpy flesh and metal parts with red eyes appeared. It screeched and launched at him with sharp metal prongs for hands. Grim closed his eyes and slammed his hand in the center of the stones. A scream edged its way up his throat just as the thing was about to strike.
The sensation of whirling colors and strange symbols flashed about him.
Grim found himself back in his own attic once more. The scream died on the edge of his lips and came out more as a small squeal.
The others were now standing around him, gawking and mouths open. Sam pushed the glasses up on his little nose and smiled.
Rudy put her hands on her hips. “What the —”
The twins pushed forward before she could finish. “Cool trick!”
Ellen looked into the chest, but said nothing.
Grim snatched up his glasses and put them on. The chest looked empty once more and he noticed the others couldn’t see what was in there. They likely couldn’t see the stones either that he knew were still in a circle on the floor. He coughed while he kicked them askew. He couldn’t let any of them face that thing in the forest.
Aunt Patrice’s voice split the air from downstairs. “Grimwald! Door!”
“Stay here,” he said looking at Rudy, and took off down the stairs to greet an older gentleman dressed in a frilly, gray suit with a beard that closely matched. He wore a tall hat, upon which were resting a pair of goggles, not unlike his own. He carried a silver walking stick.
Grim just stared at him for a moment. The man didn’t blink.
“Good day, young master,” said the man. “I am inquiring after a woman named Patrice. Does she live here?”
He left the man standing there and ran towards the kitchen. “Someone at the door for you, Aunt Patrice.”
“Who is it?” she asked.
He shrugged his shoulders.
Aunt Patrice looked at Grim. “I was going to ask you what you would like for dinner, but you
seem a little pale. Perhaps liver will perk you up.”
“Aw, man,” Grim moaned.
He then left Aunt Patrice to see to the door. He ran upstairs to find the others. Grim ushered them quietly out of the attic before Aunt Patrice would suspect something. He herded them into his room.
Grim had barely spoken a word when he was interrupted by Aunt Patrice’s screeching voice once more.
“Grimwald!”
Again?
He rushed to edge of the stairs. “Yes, Aunt Patrice.”
“Grimwald, your parents will be home in a moment. There is something very important we need to discuss with you.”
Grim stood at the top of the staircase. Rudy and the others were all hanging in the doorway of his room. The twins were jumping up and down.
Grim looked down to Aunt Patrice who waited on his delayed response.
His parents were coming home?
It was the middle of the day. They were never home this early.
“O-O-Okay,” he finally said.
His Aunt marched up the stairs in a frenzy. Grim looked to Rudy, panicked.
Immediately the others scattered, each to their own rooms.
Whew.
Aunt Patrice would know something was up if she caught them congregating in his room.
Grim lingered for a moment, unsure of whether to go to his room, but stopped when he heard a noise — something from the kitchen.
He walked towards the sound and found the place littered with junk ― balls scattered about, trinkets and gizmos from Poppa’s workshop were strewn everywhere, and a myriad of toys were sprawled all over the floor.
Sam sat by the door, giggling. Now that he realized it, Sam hadn’t been in the bedroom with the others. But how he had managed to make this kind of mess in such a short time was almost worthy of a medal.
“Aw, come on Sam, look at this mess,” Grim muttered. “What are you doing?”
Sam pushed his glasses up his little nose and giggled.
Grim moaned. If this mess was left out Grim knew his Aunt would tell him to clean it. He looked up the stairs. Rudy watched him. She said nothing.
See if she ever makes Rudy clean up.
So while Grim scoured the kitchen for stray toys, drawers slammed upstairs, and his Aunt talked aloud to herself as she stomped about her room. And although talking aloud to herself was quite common for Aunt Patrice, stomping about was not.
Not long into gathering up the loose items, Aunt Patrice summoned him from upstairs.
“Grimwald!”
Grim sighed and put the loose items in a box and strode to the bottom of the staircase.
“Yes, Aunt Patrice!”
“Please get the others and wait in the front room. Your parents should be here shortly.”
Grim called for the others and they came tromping into the front room, all but Rudy. She took her sweet time.
They all crammed into the small room with its blue walls and off-white trim. They didn’t have to wait long before Dad swept through the door. As he came rushing in, he almost knocked over the grandfather clock in the foyer. It hissed and whirred as it almost reached the hour.
“Where’s Patrice?” he asked in a strong tone that Grim rarely ever heard. His head nearly bumped the archway and his forehead was creased with worry, his usually neat brown hair askew.
“Upstairs,” Grim responded.
The man leapt up the stairs three at a time and Grim could barely overhear some low, hurried talk. More doors slammed and drawers closed.
Then Poppa appeared in the archway of the room. He was shorter than Dad. In his solid arms he held an armful of gadgets.
“Are you all right?” he asked, looking at each of them. Concern sat deep within his usually soft brown eyes.
“Pop, what’s going on?” Grim asked.
“We’ll explain shortly. I’m going upstairs to check on Aunt Patrice. Just wait here.”
They sat for some time in the room. Heavy footsteps stomped above and closet doors slammed. Hushed calls accompanied the ruckus. Grim looked at Rudy for a brief moment. There was an unsure look in her eyes and she shrugged. Grim did the same.
Then a deafening crash thundered through the house. The front door sailed through the air and slammed against the wall. In its wake, four cloaked beings stormed in. Black robes slithered along the floor in their wake. Enormous, draping hoods concealed their heads, and only darkness showed where their faces should have been.
In their gloved hands they carried black rifles that had pistons and glowing pipes.
Grim stepped in front of the others, Rudy at his side.
The men slunk into the room and Grim’s next reaction was born of some instinct he didn’t know he had. Without thinking he snatched up one of the whizzing devices from the coffee table, the heaviest thing within reach, and hurled it at the cloaked beings. He watched as it flew towards them, and then plopped onto the rug with a thud at their feet. It was as if it was being repelled. He picked up other objects, brass cogs, even the little mouse, and heaved each one as the men inched closer. Every one missed, either tumbling upon the floor or swerving into the wall.
Grim groaned his frustration. His aim wasn’t usually that bad.
The beings skulked towards them, but a flash of green light halted them in their black-booted tracks. They stood mere feet from Grim and Rudy with their weapons raised.
A voice bellowed from behind them. “Step away from them, you vile fiends!”
The cloaked beings shrunk from the bearer of the voice. To Grim’s surprise, it was Aunt Patrice. She appeared taller than usual in a choking, emerald dress.
In one arm she held Pringles, in the other she held the umbrella she always carried.
She flicked the umbrella and its canopy folded up and disappeared inside the handle, revealing a mechanical rod that looked like a clarinet, loaded with buttons and switches. Like the rifles, strange glowing pipes and pistons adorned it.
The cloaked beings hissed, and one raised a bulky flat sword that had a red liquid running through the handle. Aunt Patrice pulled a trigger on the rod and a green flash of light poured forth. It struck the massive sword and sent it flying into the wall.
“Leave this place at once, vermin!” Aunt Patrice commanded.
The creatures side-stepped her and crept back towards the doorway as she entered the room.
“Quickly children, hasten to me,” she ordered, and Grim ushered the others towards his Aunt. Rudy was right beside him. Aunt Patrice stepped further towards the men, holding aloft the rod.
“Back, you fiends!” she commanded again. She tossed a powder into the air. It flashed and burned. The invaders inched back through the door, covering their hooded faces.
Heavy feet pounded down the staircase. Grim’s parents appeared, dressed in leather waistcoats and tall hats with goggles strapped to them. Things that resembled trumpets and bulky swords were strapped across their backs. They leapt over the railing of the stairs.
“Quickly,” said Aunt Patrice, “get the children out back.”
Poppa pointed a small device at the suit of armor and pressed a button that triggered it to life. It reached to the wall to pull out the intruder’s sword and then swung it.
It was enough of a distraction that Sam slipped by and ran up the stairs.
“Toby!” he called.
Dad ran after him. “No, Sam!” His long legs bolted after him, but Sam was surprisingly fast. Dad failed to reach him before one of the intruders ran back in the house and swung his sword. Immediately, Dad’s bizarre blade was in his hands and it met the black one.
The sound of metal upon metal stung the air. The black-hooded being swung repeatedly, and every time Dad’s sword met it.
Poppa bounded up the stairs after Sam this time. The twins followed, calling for the dog.
Loud clunking echoed from the kitchen. More of the same beings had tripped over something at the back door.
They were trapped.
“Go!�
�� Aunt Patrice ordered the rest of them, pointing up the stairs. They ascended as Dad and the suit of armor kept the intruders at bay.
When they reached the upper hall, Grim found the door to the attic open.
Rudy led the way, dashing up the stairs. Sam stood near the opened chest with his glasses off and Toby by his side.
Grim whipped off his glasses. At Sam’s feet was the neat circle of stones, laid out in exactly the same order as before.
Sam put his foot in the circle of stones and disappeared from sight.
Poppa paused. “Patrice, what about the —”
“Go!” commanded the old woman.
He stepped through the stones and disappeared. Grim looked at the others.
“Take off your glasses!” he yelled.
The twins, Ellen and Rudy all took them off.
Grim wasn’t sure this was the wisest move.
“Step inside the stones!” Aunt Patrice called.
They each did as she said, disappearing from sight.
Their Dad now caught up, and shoved one of the hooded beings down the attic stairs. He plucked the dog from the floor and pushed Grim into the circle of stones.
In a flash of colors Grim appeared in the forest from before. Dad emerged from the ring of stones behind him. He was followed momentarily by Aunt Patrice.
Without pause, the old woman pointed her rod towards the ring. It hissed and screamed as she flipped a switch. A great flash and rumble followed. The stones went flying into the trees, some embedding themselves into the bark. His Aunt stepped back and waited, rod in hand. They waited for what would follow.
All was quiet.
Aunt Patrice retrieved the stones. She yanked the ones that were stuck in the trees and deposited them into a pouch at her side.
“We are safe,” she said with a sigh. “I broke the circle before they could follow. That was some fast thinking, young Samsonite. How did you know to set the stones out like that?”
Sam shrugged his shoulders. “They’re Grim’s stones.”
“Grimwald,” said Aunt Patrice in an amused voice, “How long have you known about the stones? Do you know where we are?”
Grim’s face flushed. “We’re in the Forest of Nothingness.”
Aunt Patrice’s eyebrows furrowed. “Are you sure?”
Land of Verne Page 2
