by L. R. W. Lee
That’s weird. Andy hopped down from the stool and peered around the corner. Mrs. Smith stopped before the fireplace in the living room, stooped, then removed the top from a large pot suspended over the flame. She stirred several times, then satisfied, replaced the lid and checked on what smelled like bread baking.
Andy stiffened and a low voice behind him questioned, “What do you think you’re doin’, boy?”
A heavy hand clamped down on his shoulder and spun him around. The burly man shoved him toward a chair at the table. Andy landed with a thud and the man quickly bound Andy’s hands behind his back with rough rope.
“Let me go!” Andy demanded, pulling against his bonds. His captor grinned, betraying yellowed teeth that contrasted with the soiled blue and red plaid shirt hanging half-tucked out of his grease-stained pants. Red hair splayed in disarray around the circumference of his balding head, and his ample beard held remnants from previous meals.
“Let me go!” Andy repeated, thrusting his weight at the chair and nearly toppling it.
The jelly-faced child ran into the kitchen with a handful of brown burlap. Andy clamped his mouth shut, but when the man pinched Andy’s nostrils he had no choice but to open his mouth. The man shoved a piece of fabric in then secured it with the remainder of the material in a too-tight knot at the back of Andy’s head.
“Barse, tell our liege we have captured his nemesis.”
Before Andy had time to register a complaint, the child’s features began to change. His arms and nose started to lengthen, his once-curly black hair transformed into feathers, and his eyes bulged above his newly sprouted beak.
The zolt waddled out the back door and took flight.
Andy jerked his chair again and the man leaned over, rubbed his stubbly face against Andy’s, and whispered, “Let’s see what fun we can have before he returns.”
His captor strode over to a drawer, pulled it open, and surveyed the options with a grin. “This one should do nicely,” he said as he pulled out a butcher knife and ran a finger down the blade, causing a bead of blood to well up. Andy froze as the zolt neared him.
“Halberd, don’t play with our bounty,” the woman cautioned, wagging her finger as she entered the kitchen. “The less damage, the more our king pays. Let him have the fun.”
“Oh, Githa, I won’t rough him up too much.” The zolt raised the knife to Andy’s ear.
The front doorbell’s chime shattered the moment.
“See who’s there. I’m busy,” Githa commanded.
Halberd lowered his weapon and left the kitchen. Andy blew out a long breath.
The front door opened and Andy heard Madison’s voice. “Sorry to bother you, but Andy wasn’t around back. I need to give him a message.”
“Come on in,” Halberd invited.
Andy’s warning cry made it no farther than his gag, and within seconds the beefy man pushed Madison into the kitchen. The instant she saw Andy she screamed and yanked her arm in an attempt to break free from Halberd’s clutches, but to no effect. He threw her onto the chair next to Andy and grabbed a length of rope lying on the counter. A gag quickly followed, ending her loud protests.
“Food’s ready!” Githa called from the living room.
Halberd turned and lumbered out of the kitchen.
“Why’d you invite that girl in?” The question drifted into the kitchen.
“I figured the boy would behave better if we also held someone he cares about.”
The lady zolt grunted, then sounds of slobbery eating followed.
Andy turned to Madison and shook his head to quiet her. Trying to focus her attention, Andy wagged his head toward the knife drawer on the far side then started inching his chair toward it. His movements silenced her and she mimicked.
Andy paused when he reached his objective and listened above the squeaks and scuffling Madison’s chair made as she approached. Good, they’re still eating.
Andy eased his sneakers off, then inserted his big toe in the top of one sock and pushed it down and off. The second sock came off more easily. He walked his bare feet up the cupboard and hooked his toe on the drawer pull. The drawer opened silently. Madison stopped on the opposite side and peered in then nodded for Andy to proceed. Andy slid down as far as he could on the seat, then threw his leg over the edge of the drawer. His heel hit something sharp and he stifled a gasp. Madison’s eyes widened and she threw a glance out the kitchen.
At length she nodded, and Andy began feeling around for the handle of a knife. Peering over the edge, Madison shook her head suddenly then jerked it twice to the right. Andy moved his foot right. Madison pulled her head farther right, and he moved slowly more rightward until she gave a deep nod. Andy’s toes found the handle of the prize. He eased it between his big toe and its neighbor, clamped down, and lifted his leg. Andy focused as the knife dangled precariously.
Andy lowered it to the floor then motioned to Madison to turn her chair around. As she did so, Andy again listened.
“Do you want seconds?”
Andy squeezed his eyes shut, hoping to hear an affirmative reply.
A low grunt and Andy lifted his eyes heavenward.
Madison watched Andy over her shoulder. After repositioning the blade so the cutting edge would be hanging down and away from her, Andy lifted the handle to where she could grab it between her bound hands.
He turned his chair around and located her hands then lowered his bonds and began moving his shoulders up and down. A generous sneeze echoed from the living room and Madison nearly dropped the knife. Pain sliced through the side of his hand, but he repositioned and continued sawing on the ropes. At length, he felt his bonds loosen. Using his fingers for leverage, he pushed hard to separate his wrists and the rope fell to the floor.
He jumped up, moved his chair out of the way and freed Madison’s hands, then untied her gag. She looked at his bleeding hand, searched two drawers, and handed him a towel.
Andy ducked low and peered around the corner to locate their captors. Halberd sat slouched in his chair patting his abundant girth, and Githa ran bread around the inside of her bowl. He moved back toward Madison and informed her of his findings.
“They can see the front and back doors,” Andy whispered.
“The garage is through the laundry room.” Madison pointed behind her. “I used to babysit the Mitchell kids, remember?”
Andy closed his eyes as he pumped his fist. He grabbed his shoes and socks and followed Madison as she led them to the door that connected to the garage. They pried it open and emerged into the dim space. Thanks to Mr. Mitchell’s care the door kept their secret and did not utter a sound.
“They sure packed light,” Madison observed, glancing about the empty space.
“It looks like they didn’t plan to stay long.”
Madison reached for the door opener.
“Wait!” Andy cautioned. “They’ll hear it open. Lay down on the floor and roll out as soon as I hit it, then run. I’m faster, I’ll slide out under it.”
Intent on freedom, Madison didn’t argue but went and lay in front of the door.
“Ready?”
She nodded.
Andy hit the opener. It felt like an eternity as the motor whirred to life and slowly lifted the roller door.
“Come on, come on,” Andy muttered.
The garage door rose a foot and Madison rolled out. The door from the laundry room flew open as Andy took off toward the expanding opening.
“Stop!” bellowed a deep voice behind him.
Andy imagined he was a baseball player and slid, then bounded up and raced after Madison.
Mom stood on the front walk looking up and down the street.
“The zolt! They’re after us! Send me back to Oomaldee!” Andy yelled, sprinting next to Madison.
Mom whirled around to face them.
“Send me back to Oomaldee!” Andy repeated as he broke through Mermin’s protective barrier, stopping abruptly before Mom.
“To
Oomaldee!” she commanded.
Madison panted to a stop and ran her eyes over both of them.
“To Oomaldee!” Mom declared once more.
A minute passed.
“Why didn’t it work?” Andy questioned.
“I don’t know, but why did I need to try? What happened?”
CHAPTER THREE
The Wizard of Oz
In Lakehills, Texas, cooler temperatures hide until November, so as September arrived, high temperatures persisted. Andy sat at the picnic table in the shade of the trees, wiping his brow as he penned his response to Alden and Yara’s latest news. Alden mentioned he had gone with Trevig into Oops to buy firewood and had seen statues of Oomish citizens scattered about. He also mentioned the King had cancelled the festival this year in light of recent events.
For her part, Yara outlined her plans to accompany the King and Mermin to the library of Oomaldee. She also told him about her, Alden, and Hannah shadowing Razen—discreetly of course—but he kept disappearing. No one knew where he went. She seems sad, or am I imagining things? Maybe it’s just me hoping she misses me…
Yara,
I know you of all people will understand. In spite of having Mom, I still feel alone. When I break the curse, she’ll die along with Father and Mermin. I watch my dad and he puts on a brave face, but this has to be killing him, too. And what’s more, I don’t feel anywhere near ready to rule. I miss having you to talk to.
Though no one approached as he wrote, Andy felt eyes boring into him. He glanced about the backyard but didn’t see anything unusual. Okay, I’m being paranoid, he chided himself and resumed his letter.
I’ve collected four ingredients for this potion to break the curse. I don’t know how many there are, but surely there can’t be that many more. And then…
Out of the corner of his eye Andy caught movement in the manicured hedge that marked the back boundary of their property. Just past the translucent curtain, two bulbous, frog-like eyes peered over. The instant his eyes locked with the zolt, it ducked.
“I saw you!”
Andy got up and strode toward the intruder. Just before he reached the barrier the creature backed away. A second later, flapping wings announced its retreat.
“Yeah, go run back to your master, chicken!”
Seating himself again, he continued:
Abaddon’s minions continue to hunt me and Mom. In fact, I just chased one away. We’ve been lucky so far, but I know he’s looking for any opportunity to hurt me or my family. We have to be careful all the time; they just need to get lucky once. I’m worried and I know I’m not the only one. My whole family’s on edge.
I know there’s nothing you can do about that, but if you wouldn’t mind, when you go to the library, would you see what you can find about Abaddon? Specifically, I’m trying to figure out why my grandfather and Imogenia agree that Methuselah can’t kill him anymore, and if that’s true, I need to know what will.
Thinking of you often,
Andy
He nearly wrote “thinking of you all the time,” which was true, but finally decided against it, afraid she might think him weird.
*****
October was winding down, and Saturday morning found Andy again rummaging in the trunk, trying to understand more of the prophecy of deliverance. He had decided to focus on the meaning of “the troika’s beacon” since that seemed to be the source of the prophecy’s fulfillment. He located the scroll detailing the history of the troika and opened it on the floor. Much of the portion he had already translated spoke to what Hans had revealed during his last visit—the three nations of Oomaldee, Carta, and Cromlech would share technology, banking, and healing resources, respectively. But the next section piqued Andy’s interest:
As the nations cooperated in a spirit of unity and mutual benefit, their centers glowed, giving them power never before seen, and while none fully understood the source, no foreign nation could harm any member. To be sure, over time some enemies tried, but in every case the threat was revealed and soundly defeated.
Andy stopped to reread. “Their centers glowed.” What’s that mean? The Giant’s Ring is Cromlech’s center of power and its stones definitely glow in the sun…and even in the moonlight. Do Carta and Oomaldee have something similar? I’ve never seen anything like that.
A different hand added the next section of the narrative:
Over the generations, Oomaldee and Cromlech have begun questioning Carta’s lending practices, alleging that the nation is charging exorbitant interest rates that serve only its own interests rather than the mutual interests of the troika. Dissent grows, and rather than bow to the concerns, the twelve lords of Carta ignore them. The result: the light of Carta’s power has dimmed, as if issuing a warning.
My fellow scribes have noted the change, but none seem to recognize the significance. This is my own postulating, but I think it is a message that the troika needs to return to its original bond of commitment to each other’s mutual benefit before we become vulnerable to the wiles of our enemies. I am but a lowly Oomish apprentice and no one takes my admonitions seriously, certainly not the twelve lords. But if they do not repent and come together once more, I fear Carta’s lamp will cease to glow and its power will go out. I shudder to think what might happen.
Judging by Abaddon’s success, it seems their lamp did go out.
Andy reflected on what he had read for several minutes before inspiration struck: Wait a minute! Is this how we defeat Abaddon? By restoring the centers of the nations’ powers? Is this what I’m to do? Is my job bigger than breaking the curse? Could it be?
The ink of the last portion of the scroll was different from the previous entry, revealing a later date. The text concluded:
Word reached my ears today: rumors that the prince of Oomaldee has committed some heinous act, although I know not what. Reports are spreading that Oomaldee’s lamp has dimmed. I fear the worst.
Andy’s stomach clenched. His thoughts raced back to the events in which he discovered he was the chosen one to break the curse. He let out a long, slow breath as the burden threatened to overwhelm. But just as he felt he might drown, Hans’s words when they were working to fix the Giant’s Ring came to mind: “You might be the one appointed to break the curse, but together we will restore the Ring’s power.”
I’m not alone… Andy shook his head and closed his eyes. What are Oomaldee’s and Carta’s centers of power? And where?
*****
Mom had the holiday decorations up right on schedule this year, and with them she invoked her tradition of humming off-key to her favorite carols. Christmas break would start next week, and Saturday morning Mom rounded up Andy and Madison for an excursion to the mall.
Andy still had to buy gifts for Mom, Dad, and Grandpa Smithson. He estimated he had enough money saved from his allowance to cover them, seeing as his lawn-mowing endeavors had halted abruptly. Madison had been easy this year with her starting to drive. He’d gotten her a keychain with her favorite book quote and an adapter to hook her phone to the car’s speakers.
Madison had gotten her permit back in August when she turned fifteen and now took advantage of every opportunity to practice. “She’s definitely improved,” was Andy’s standard response if asked about her current proficiency.
Andy climbed into the back of the SUV and Madison assumed the driver’s seat with Mom riding shotgun. She backed out of the driveway and proceeded to the intersection. As she waited for traffic to clear, Andy detected movement out of the corner of his eye. A quick glance and his imagination kicked in as he glimpsed the unmistakable beady-eyed silhouette of a zolt not far off. Andy shook his head, hoping, and a second look revealed nothing but paranoia. I’ve got to chill. It had been a couple months since he’d seen any sign of zolt activity, and he prayed it stayed that way. Andy pressed his palms to his eyes and sagged into the seat.
Mom hummed along to “Grandma Got Run Over by a Reindeer” playing on the radio. Trying to kick his basele
ss concerns, Andy began to sing along, and soon Madison joined in, adding to the off-key merrymaking.
Madison stopped at a red light, and across the intersection Andy spotted another being with bulging eyes. But a second look again revealed nothing. Andy shook his head and sang louder. As they stopped for the signal at Mall Drive, however, Andy knew he had not been imagining things. He thrust his hand forward, pointing out the front window. “Zolt!”
As if on his command, a loud thud emanated from the roof. Madison floored the accelerator, nearly colliding with an oncoming car whose horn blared, screaming the driver’s mental state at the close call.
“Shake it loose!” Andy coached, but lacking experience in zolt removal Madison drove faster. A second later, a long nose appeared over the front windshield, drawing a shriek from the driver. Andy felt the SUV swerve and the next thing he knew they were rolling downhill. His head smashed against the window and everything went black.
The unmistakable sound of swords clashing jolted Andy awake. His head pounded, but this pain was nothing compared to the time he’d gotten a broken nose playing Oscray. He struggled, but the seatbelt forbid escape, keeping him suspended upside down. The passenger door was ajar, and he spotted Mom’s legs dancing with the stocky appendages of the enemy. Two strokes of Methuselah’s blade and the enemy lay prone only to be replaced by two more sets of legs.
A moan escaped from the airbag-filled cavity of the front seat, but two more bloodied bodies falling into Andy’s peripheral vision distracted him. Seconds later the new casualties vanished like the first. Three more of the enemy hit the ground and disappeared as sirens screamed toward them.