Lexington stepped forward. ‘We only know the way we do things Uncle. We have always slept together. Well mostly.’
With little fight to his words he said, ‘Please put those clothes on. You will look less like outsiders.’
‘Uncle. What is with the cloaks? What did Aunty mean?”
He shuffled back to the door, stooped and not answering.
‘Are you going to train us as Aunty Gertrude said,’ Melaleuca asked.
‘I think it best if you go outside. Leave your Aunt to me. She’s just proud of our heritage.’
‘Uncle Bear-Nard did you leave us the note?’ Lexington asked kindly.
He smiled, and warmth exuded from it as if Lexington’s lyrical voice penetrated his persona’s frail shell, then it faded, and confused he spoke, afraid.
‘N...n...n..note? What n..n..note?’
Melaleuca stepped in front of Lexington. ‘It’s okay Uncle. Lexington is mixing up an earlier conversation, that’s all.’
Lexington protested but was silenced by Melaleuca’s hand.
Perplexed, Uncle Bear-Nard scratched his head. ‘Grateful to your...mother...er...mothers...really truly am,’ and said with little glee, ‘Pop your new clothes on and hop out the back. Avoiding your Aunt is probably best,’ and then headed out the door.
‘Mel. I wanted to ask him questions.’
‘Did you see the way he reacted? You scared him. The note said, tell no one especially not them.’
‘We don’t know if the note is true.’
‘Exactly. So don’t. All we have is each other. Right now that’s all we can rely on.’
Lexington nodded. Melaleuca was right. She just wanted answers this instance. She picked up one of the cloaks. ‘I would ask more about why she got upset about these, yet really it’s just going to be another unanswered question.’
‘Come on. Clothes on and then let’s get out of this mansion,’ Melaleuca said.
‘I know, I know. Move forward, etcetera, etcetera. I’m sure we will find plenty to explore, and you said we could use my hypothesis.’
Knowing she never said that Melaleuca chose to ignore it.
They stripped to their undergarments and threw the new clothes on. They looked like Roman Togas with gold gilded edges though their own colourful tee shirts poked out from under them.
Together they wandered to the Grand Ascension Stairs and stopped on the top of the third set. The immensity of the pillars and the ribbed, dark-shadowed roof swept through Lexington.
‘Why would you put a stair case this size in the middle of a great hall like this?’
Like a repeat of yesterday Aunty Gertrude appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
‘Use the back stairs!’
Rankled by Aunty Gertrude’s lack of flexibility, Melaleuca decided to do as she wanted. She stepped on to the stairs and with a daring look, stepped down, one step at a time. The others emboldened by her audacity followed behind.
Aunty Gertrude latched on to the banister as if to launch herself up them.
‘Get off the stairs!’
Melaleuca trod down another one.
‘Why?’
Their voices sounded thin in the large roofed hall.
‘W...w...why?’ She spluttered, coughing up the word like a stuck fur-ball.
She screeched once again for Uncle Bear-Nard, and soon they heard the sound of him huffing and shuffling along.
Ari moaned.
‘Here we go again.’
‘Oh dear...oh dear...oh dear...’ Uncle Bear-Nard said over and over, zipping by the cousins.
‘What is this?’ Aunty Gertrude said to him.
‘T..t.t.they were s..s.s.s.s.supposed to go down the back stairs.’
‘I told you to sort them out. What then are they doing on the Grand Ascension Stairs?’
Uncle Bear-Nard swivelled between the cousins and their Aunt, unsure whom to address first.
Irked, Aunty Gertrude erupted. ‘Right enough! I’ll do it. Bring them down here into the drawing room and I will smack them into shape.’
Uncle Bear-Nard nudged them down the stairs toward the bottom.
‘THE BACK STAIRS!’
A fraught Uncle Bear-Nard hurried them back up the Grand Ascension Stairs and toward the back stairs.
Soon they all stood on the back porch of the Throughnight Cathedral-Mansion staring out over the back yard - a mixture of well-kept gardens and well-kept weed patches.
‘And what about Aunty,’ Melaleuca asked.
‘Let me take care of her,’ Uncle Bear-Nard said trying to sound brave.
He turned and shuffled back inside.
Far behind the Cathedral-Mansion, massive bush clad hills cried out to Ari. Something in them yearned to be found, like they contained a secret, and Ari launched himself forward saying, ‘I am going to explore.’
‘Wait,’ Melaleuca said halting him.
Stopping he turned.
‘What?’
‘At least let’s listen to Lexington’s hypothesis.’
The hills tugged at Ari’s feelings.
‘Can we do it later? If I listen now she won’t have my full attention.’
‘It’s okay with me,’ Lexington said a little dejected. ‘Give me a bit more time to work on it.’
‘Thanks. Come on Qui, let’s go.’
As the boys ran off Melaleuca could tell Lexington felt a little rejected.
‘There will be time when they get back, ’ Melaleuca said.
‘It’s okay, really.’
‘Good, follow me.’
‘Where to?’
‘Anywhere is a good start. The walls you see are not the walls that are. It’s daylight. Let’s see what else this place turns up.’
‘Yes. And I have a hunch more is hidden in there as well.’
‘It is not a competition Lex.’
‘I know. But I have a hunch.’
‘A hunch,’ Melaleuca said surprised. ‘You mean like a feeling?’
‘No. A hunch. A feeling is different.’
‘Oh?’
‘A feeling makes no sense, lacks data, has not an iota of evidence, but can be right.’ Lexington smiled as if to placate Melaleuca. ‘As you mostly are dear cousin. Whereas a hunch is a suspicion based on the scarcest of evidence and may or may not be right.’
‘What’s that evidence then?’
‘One of the walls moved that I leant on.’
‘Then let’s go.’
They snuck through the kitchen and a side entranceway, standing in a large doorframe that led to a small room under the Grand Ascension Stairs.
‘What now?’ Lexington whispered.
‘We wait and see if anyone is coming.’
The Cathedral filled itself with a still emptiness, making their slight movements seem excessive. Melaleuca kept on waiting for the right moment to go. Every minute that went by was a minute she realised that no one had walked by and they could have gone. This went on for several minutes until Lexington said, ‘Perhaps we just need a disguise.’
‘Like what?’
‘Come, I saw something in the kitchen we can wear.’
Soon they had returned to the same spot dressed in oversized scullery maids’ uniforms and they set off walking along the first floor of the Great Cathedral Hall. Neither of them knew what they were looking for other than some sort of clue to anything. They strode in silence amongst the enormous pillars and columns, and headed toward the front entrance.
Melaleuca spotted long hallways to the left and the right of the entrance door. They ran parallel to the outside of the Cathedral-Mansion though their ceilings only went as high as the first floor. High arched windows clad the outside facing walls and on the stone slab walls opposite it, many ornate gilded doorways reached into the distance.
They wandered up the west hallway with the hems of their stolen maid uniforms dragging behind them on the polished stone floor. Along the wall many pictures hung, both photographs and pai
ntings - old ones, black and white ones, sepia toned ones, line drawings and faded water colours. Every now and then a faded colour photo appeared amongst them. The images were of men and women (their forebears perhaps) clothed in smocks, vests and heavy dresses, working in fields, having picnics, standing together and generally looking stern. They seem to span many generations and be in no particular order. Further down the photos petered out and only the paintings remained, though one lone photo sat amongst them.
Lexington pointed.
‘Look it’s Mum!’
In faded colour one of their mothers stared back at them, smiling. Clothed in a black shirt and a pair of black longs, she sat on a big empty lawn with the front of the Cathedral-Mansion in the background. Her large smile and flock of full black hair dominated her face.
Lexington stepped closer, studying it.
‘Whose Mum it is then?’
‘Whose ever mother it is, she looks the happiest I have ever seen any of them look.’
‘I know. And look. She has none of those markings in her eyes.’
‘She really was pretty.’
‘Really Mel. You are the only one who looks like any of them. Bit vain.’
‘Oh hush. I wonder how old she was.’
‘13 maybe? But look.’ Lexington fingered the picture. ‘Something is not right. Yes. That’s it. Where are the trees? They’re missing.’
Melaleuca examine the photo closely as well, and could see that the lawn lacked any of the large weird trees.
‘Doesn’t make sense,’ Lexington said searching Melaleuca’s face. ‘Those trees must be hundreds of years old. Either that or our parents are...’
They both thought it at the same time - the possibility of their parents being hundreds of years old.
‘They couldn’t be,’ Lexington whispered. ‘Could they?’
‘Let’s see if there are any other photos before we age them,’ Melaleuca said.
‘I think it was right. A hyperthesis is needed,’ Lexington said out of the blue.
‘What was right?’
‘What?’
‘You said, you think “it” was right.’
‘Oh. I meant me. When a lot of facts make it hard to come up with a hypothesis then a hyperthesis is needed.’
‘Sure. Explain later. Let’s carry on.’
They searched and searched and found a few more photos in similar settings though each time only one of their mothers appeared.
Behind them a door opened and the sound of hurried footsteps striding away caused them to jump. Fear of being discovered dashed through Melaleuca and she cringed. Despite her fearless sharpness and the words of her mother, and the notes telling them to do whatever they wanted, Aunty Gertrude brought up a loathing in her she had never experienced before.
‘Don't look,’ Melaleuca whispered. ‘Whoever it is, if they see our faces we are done for. Just keep walking.’
The footsteps stopped with a defining abruptness. Not daring to look Melaleuca and Lexington waited for the inevitable.
‘What are you girls doing?’ Aunty Gertrude’s harsh voice said from far away.
With their backs still turned they shrugged their shoulders.
‘Well don't just stand there dawdling, get on with some work!’
Melaleuca breathed a sigh of relief, nodded at Lexington and shuffled forward, feeling thrilled at having fooled their Aunt. More far away footsteps clattered on the stone floor and they heard Aunty Gertrude gasp in surprise.
‘Oh crumbs,’ Lexington said.
‘Don’t look,’ Melaleuca said though too late. Lexington turned. Pemily and Petruce stood beside Aunty Gertrude, puzzled.
‘Right,’ Aunty Gertrude said with a great bellow and shrieked, making Pemily and Petruce cower. ‘That does it. STAND WHERE YOU ARE!’
‘Run,’ Melaleuca said.
They tore off down the hallway at what little speed they could muster in their oversized maids’ uniforms. Aunty Gertrude cackled and the sound of her sensible shoes clattered fast toward them.
‘She is going to catch us.’
‘Not if I can help it,’ Melaleuca said and laughed back. Relish of outwitting their Aunt crept over her.
‘I know this building like the back of my hands. You cannot escape,’ Aunty Gertrude yelled.
Melaleuca seized on the idea of the secret passages.
‘Quick, turn in here,’ Melaleuca said pointing to a slightly open door, trying to skid to a halt. Melaleuca shoved Lexington into the door, opened it fully, and then threw herself into the room, slamming the door shut behind them.
Rows and rows of church pews ended in an altar. Stained glass windows surrounded it and a large statue of Jesus crucified hung on the wall behind the altar.
‘What is this place?’ Melaleuca said puffing in and out, surprised.
Lexington studied it trying to remember where she had seen it. A surreal air of holiness transfixed them and for a few brief seconds they forgot about their stampeding Aunt.
‘Perhaps a meeting hall for the tortured,’ Melaleuca said.
‘No it’s a church or a chapel,’ Lexington replied. ‘People worship God in places like this.’
‘God? Judging from the dust in this place no one has worshipped anything for a while. Can’t blame them, that looks awful,’ Melaleuca said pointing at Jesus’ twisted body.
‘People believe he has saved them or something,’ Lexington said in thought. ‘I think we are supposed to pray to it.’
Melaleuca looked at her sideways. How many books had Lexington read?
‘Creepy. Now, look for a secret exit.’
‘A what?’
Melaleuca looked surprised. ‘We’re trapped! Look for a secret door or something.’
‘I don’t see a fireplace in here.’
‘So?’
‘The entrances to the rooms have been through or by fireplaces.’
‘Use your imagination. Play. Pretend it’s game. Where would you put a secret door? Quick before she arrives. There has to be one in here.’
They ran like crazy, pushing, shoving and twisting knobs on pews, touching panels on walls and yanking candles on stands. Even small smudges on the stone work and anything that looked suspiciously like a crack, they tried. After exhausting all possibilities, the once undisturbed dust now hung in the air.
Aunty Gertrude’s feet pounded the stone floors quickening until the sound loomed large. It stopped outside the door, keys jangled and clanged, and then the sound of an old lock turning, clicked.
‘Foolish little tempests. There is no escape now. The door is locked and I shall return with your Uncle. There are severe penalties for disobedience in New Wakefield.’
***
Half walking and half sprinting, Ari led the way toward the forested hills of the north. They passed through the manicured gardens and ordered rows of herbs and flowers onto a neatly mown lawn. The lawn sloped downhill to a line of thick bushes and hedgerows, stopping at a small broken-down stone fence. Beyond it a paddock of over grown grass teemed for a distance to the forest.
Into the forest they dashed, letting the thick woods envelope them. A thick blanket of cool moist air wrapped around them, and stopping they looked back. Over the hedges, the top two storeys of the Cathedral-Mansion stood out like an impressive beacon of tradition. The many towers shimmered and gave off an aura of mysterious power.
Ari sniffed the pristine air and wondered what had called to him. Birds chatted and the quiet teem of life thrummed away, yet another sound existed, a sound beyond sound.
‘What is it?’ Quixote asked.
‘Not sure. It’s ─ ’
‘Like it’s living.’
Ari cast a glance at him. Had he read his mind?
‘This hill,’ Ari said, ‘runs into the mountains that we could not cross. Something in it is alive - more than the trees and the animals. In fact it feels like it’s even in the ground. I can’t...describe...’ He lost his words and felt something in
side him reach out and grope the unseen masses of energy all around.
‘I bet there are plenty of undiscovered secrets in it,’ Quixote said. ‘I get the feeling everything is waiting to wake up. Those trees at the front, boy, imagine if they came to life.’
Ari did not reply and Quixote waved his hand in front of his face.
‘What are we looking for anyway?’
Ari snapped out of it and chuckled saying, ‘Not sure, just following my heart.’ And then added, ‘Maybe where that cave-tunnel comes out.’
‘Oh.’
‘Yeah oh. The one where those men would have attacked us had it not been for the eagle.’
‘If we find it. Maybe we can track those men, if they came out.’
Quixote followed Ari deeper into the forest looking a little sheepish. He knew that Ari would not have thrown stones - he would have taken more care. Ari would attack after a reconnaissance and formulating a plan. Quixote wondered if that’s why Ari got on best with Lexington. In their own way they both liked to gather information first, though Ari could be prone to outbursts if the moment called for it.
They moved upwards, treading over ground matted with thick leaves and dead debris, up through which poked gnarled and knotted roots. Mosses and ferns poked out from between giant overhanging umbrella-like ferns, and vines hung draped between various large trees of different mottled barks.
Every hundred feet or so large outcroppings of rocks, at least 20 feet high, burst out of the side of the hill. They tore open large gaps in the forest’s canopy exposing the sky.
‘How far are we going?’ Quixote asked.
‘Not sure.’
‘These mountains look like they could go on a long way.’ He sat down near the base of one of the outcrops.
‘Yeah. We may have to go back and get supplies.’
A distressed voice cried out from somewhere in the forest. Unable to make out the words, it got closer and rose in anger and then stopped. Ari threw himself to the ground pulling Quixote after him.
‘What? It’s probably just one of the others,’ Quixote said.
‘Shh, just listen.’
It started again and sounded as if adults were shouting, though the words were still too muffled to hear. Someone ran fast, crashing through the trees. It got louder and louder and louder until they burst out through the undergrowth. A small urchin-like child, at least 8 years old, clothed in an old sack, tumbled down in front of them, stood up and looked at them bewildered. He heaved great breaths in and out as beads of sweat streamed down his face. With extreme terror on his face he spoke to them in an utter panic.
The Omega Children - The Return of the Marauders - Book 1 Page 15
