Vahn and the Bold Extraction, The

by Mason, Shane A.

  ‘That’s right. Until you brats turned up all this was mine. Now it’s ruined. Ruined I say, ruined!’

  She screeched and ranted so much that she looked and sounded like a female version of Daquan.

  ‘But wait!’ The words rushed out of her mouth. ‘No one knows. There is still time. KILL THEM! QUICK KILL THEM!’

  She ran around, pushing the servants toward the cousins.

  Argus stepped out into full view from behind the horses, though Melaleuca motioned for him to stay where he stood. None of the servants seemed keen to follow her orders.

  Jeeves grabbed Aunty Gertrude and pushed her backwards. ‘Your time here is finished. The mansion is now theirs and we are in service to the young masters and mistresses.’

  Aunty Gertrude shrieked at him, lashing out with her hand trying to scratch his face. She grabbed the decorative thistles, and threw them at Jeeves.

  Across the lawn, walking out of the shadows Harshon appeared calling out, ‘I too witness this and will back the children.’

  ‘Harshon!’ Melaleuca called out. ‘What are you doing here?’

  Aunty Gertrude spat.

  ‘Come to rob me no doubt!’

  ‘I have been waiting here since the end of the Galelain. I came to warn you of the danger, but I see I may have been too late.’ She pointed to Lexington.

  ‘She will be fine,’ Melaleuca said. ‘She is overcome with exhaustion. We will tend to her soon enough.’

  Aunty Gertrude threw her head back emitting a long evil laugh; evil enough to suggest she knew something they did not. Everyone stopped. Melaleuca wanted to punch her so bad.

  ‘Aunty?’

  ‘Not any more, wench. I know the truth of your parents!’

  She spat and stuck her nose up in the air.

  Lexington's body jerked at this, but then went still.

  Ari stepped forward, intent on grabbing their Aunt and forcing her to tell them. She hissed at him and shrieked a high pitched shrill noise.

  ‘THEY ARE DEAD! DEAD YOU HEAR! ALL DEAD!’

  Melaleuca held her arm out to stop Ari. ‘She is mad. Leave her.’

  ‘You will never see them again, ever, ever!’

  Pembrooke stepped down the steps and trod towards Aunty Gertrude, stopping close to her.

  ‘Perhaps Madam should leave, given her opinion and state of mind.’

  ‘NO!’ Harshon shouted. ‘She is no friend of the cause. Consider her an enemy. Lock her away somewhere. Quickly. Kill her even.’

  Melaleuca stepped forward.

  She now understood that her and her cousins must have fun, that their sweet enjoyment of whatever presented itself to them, powered the bracelets. There was still much to know, still many mysteries, myths and fables to unwind before the truth of this land revealed itself. She paused for a moment and let Uncle Bear-Nard’s words drift through her feelings. She thought about what he wanted them to know and discover without being told.

  Fun despite hate.

  Play despite seriousness.

  Enjoyment despite death.

  Enthusiasm despite darkness.

  ‘Pembrooke? It is true?’ Melaleuca asked. ‘All this is now ours?’

  Pembrooke nodded, a pleasing look falling over his face.

  ‘And all titles?’

  He nodded again.

  ‘Then I decree, all harm, hurting, hate and discipline at this Cathedral-Mansion shall stop.’

  Aunty Gertrude sniggered.

  ‘DEAAADD! YOUR PARENTS ARE DEEEEADDDDD!’ She took great relish in saying it.

  ‘Yes so you keep on saying,’ Quixote said unaffected by the news. ‘So what if they are. People only die to this body, not to this world.’

  ‘Anyway,’ Ari added. ‘They are actually most likely in Egypt or somewhere, leading our attackers on a wild goose chase. Else we would have been told.’

  ‘Fools! It was I! Me who organised the attack on you and your parents. I goaded that fat sack of bloated regret out of his complacency. I controlled Daquan. I ordered your parents death and die they did exquisitely. But I made a mistake. I did not tell him about you kids, because I knew he would want you alive, and I wanted you dead.’

  Melaleuca took stock of her trust.

  But I really want to hold her head under water.

  ‘Is there somewhere here where we can lock her away for the time being?’

  Jeeves and Pembrooke rushed forward, volunteering places to incarcerate her. Seeing this Aunty Gertrude abused them all. ‘COWARDS, TRAITORS, RENEGERS!!!’

  ‘Do it Jeeves,’ Melaleuca said.

  With great relish Jeeves clasped Aunty Gertrude and started frog-marching her away.

  ‘I’LL KILL YOU ALL!’ she screamed.

  ‘Wait,’ Quixote said.

  He threw on his clown costume and his bracelet, and approached their Aunt. She stared boggle-eyed at him and her mouth dropped. Whatever she saw did not appear pleasant. He tickled and tickled her and performed numerous silly stunts in front of her teasing her, then pulled his bracelet off.

  ‘Tah duh! It’s us. We are the Marauders.’

  ‘N...n..no…..It’s a trick.’

  ‘Leave her,’ Melaleuca called out to Quixote. ‘We have other more important things to attend to.’

  ‘That was not wise, Qui,’ Ari said..

  ‘Yeah,’ he replied. ‘But did you see the look on her face?’

  Jeeves dragged a subdued Aunty Gertrude inside.

  Harshon swept her long hair back, smiling, pleased.

  ‘I knew you were Karena’s offspring. And I had hoped you were the Marauders returned.’ Her voice cracked with emotion. ‘I have waited all my life. She said she would never forsake us.’

  ‘Yes we are,’ Melaleuca said. ‘Bidden to trust no one but ourselves. There is much we need to know and much I think to do. You may aid us if you want. Your help is needed.’

  Harshon nodded, tears in her eyes.

  ‘I thought it was weakness to cry,’ Quixote said.

  ‘I never believed it.’ Harshon sniffed. ‘These are tears of happiness.’

  Melaleuca nodded.

  ‘Yes we do indeed have a pronounced affect on people. Come, let us get Lexington inside. First we need to find a costume to help her. Then we prepare to give Uncle and Dunk a burial. Ari, Quixote, grab Lexington. Pembrooke take Uncle’s body around the back. Harshon come with me. Pemily, Petruce, we might like a hot bath.’

  They departed to their various assignments, with Pemily and Petruce wandering off as commanded, though still in shock and stunned by everything.

  ‘You must tell me everything you know,’ Melaleuca said to Harshon.

  Epilogue

  As morning dawned, Scout appeared out of nowhere. Standing in the fields behind the Throughnight Cathedral-Mansion, colours swirled around under its skin. Its small, pale body took on the shapes and colours of the grasses it stood amongst, making it nearly invisible. The death of Uncle Bear-Nard had left it alone. So many of its past companions had died that another one should not have mattered, but this time it felt different. Everything felt different. In only one day the smells, sounds and sights had altered enough for it to feel a change in the air. Hearing Quixote approach, it froze and watched him.

  ***

  Quixote frolicked in and out of the blue, misty lines floating above the earth around his feet. He did not care why they were there, they just seemed fun and that was enough for him. One of the lines shone a little brighter and had more swirls in it than the others. It led off into the fields behind the Cathedral-Mansion. Fancy free and feeling exhilarated by their string of wins, he dashed across the field following it toward Hirad’s Forest in the northern hills.

  Dressed as a traveling minstrel, lute in hand, he could not have imagined a better life, or a better outcome to their recent battles. Even Lexington in her coma did not perturb him. Confident they would find a costume or something to bring her round, all that remained was to explore and discover.

  With tassel
s trailing behind and puffy, slit, sleeves making him look more round-shouldered than he was, he slipped into the trees, grabbing his lop-sided pudding hat, seeking the whim that drew him there.

  Darting amongst the trees and the bushes he arrived at the giant statues. They stood as unchanged as ever guarding the oversized doorway that he knew must have once belonged to a giant.

  Except this time the doors swung inwards, opening a great dark expanse. Just like the cave inside the Forbidden Place in the Southern Wasteland, its dark innards begged to be explored. Many of the misty, blue lines converged on the open door, the speed of the mist increasing as they entered it.

  To tempting to not investigate, Quixote trod inside

  ***

  Scout stood before the doors, stunned and excited. Great tears welled in its eyes. It followed after Quixote, racing through the doors. After 50,000 years the doors to his ancient home were now finally open.

  To be continued in…..

  The Omega Children: The Agent of the Diaspora.

  With Lexington in a coma, and a horde of rejected children to look after Melaleuca feels the challenge of leadership. The Vahn begrudgingly bestows on her the title of prefect, but behind the scenes Sah Task-Master Carrion plots the cousin’s demise.

  Nap Retep no longer seems a threat, yet Argus is compelled to search for him, and makes a discovery that will challenge their innocence to their very core. Quixote’s discovery takes the unsolved mysteries to a whole new depth. Exploring it starts to help them make sense of everything though a strange man turns up with hundreds of new costumes. He declares himself the last surviving Agent of the Diaspora, and accuses them of being imposters.

  “The Omega Children Series”

  can be purchased from www.lulu.com or

  http://www.lulu.com/spotlight/shhaneatgmaildotcom

  Or any good bookstore

  Or email Shane A. Mason at shhane@gmail.com

  Check out the Facebook page - https://www.facebook.com/OmegaChildren

  About the Author

  Shane A. Mason lives in Auckland, New Zealand.

  He was raised in the wilds in a small valley that has both green bush clad northern hills and southern mountains ranges extending for hundreds of miles.

  The setting for the book was a natural choice. As a teenager he spent time in New Zealand’s vast South Island High Country – scenery the world has come to equate with the mythical land of Rohan from the ‘Lord of the Rings’ movies. It was here that he first glimpsed the possibility of setting an adventure in a civilization hidden from man.

  His further studies into the psychology of how the mind affects illness or health led him to realize that a loss of “innocence” and a loss of the sense of “discovery” were pathways to ill health. Instead of writing a text book he chose to imbed the concepts in a mythological adventure.