“I will not see Zalturn collapse into oblivion. I will never be defeated,” Maximojo gurgled. “I am Maximojo and I have backup …” His words froze as Scrapsie’s poison settled in, paralyzing him.
“Victory for the Scraps!” Scrapsie clacked, and delivered another punishing sting.
In his last waking moment, Woofster saw McFee rise from his chair. “Now where is that wand?” He heard McFee say.
And then he could hold his eyes open no more.
***
“Maximojo are you awake?” Meowlen gently pried open one of his eyes, making sure she didn’t break another nail. No luck. His eye slammed shut again when she let it go. She flopped his ears over to the side, faced him squarely and gently shook the dreamer. “Wake up curly-top! It’s me, Meowlen. I’m on your side, have you forgotten?” She bonked his head with hers. Still no response. She grabbed his collar in one claw and twisted the sensor in the other. It flashed, desensitizing the remains of the poison. Maximojo opened an eye and tried to move his head, but realized he was entangled in a web of spider nests. Then he saw countless eyes peering out of the cracks between the rock walls. They watched him struggle out of the web, and began to swarm in.
“Creepy spiders! Meowlen said, jumping aside. “They are everywhere, in every galaxy I’ve ever been in, and I’ve heard about their mischievous behavior. They get into small spaces unnoticed.” She backed up. “I believe in equality for every mover and shaker that treads their threads even in space, but I prefer to wear the silk yarn they spin after it’s woven into scarfs.”
A long-legged spider, cloaked in black, appeared on Maximojo’s nose. He stared over a few of his curls at her. “We don’t like visitors. The captured kind. Heard you had quite the scuffle. Keep it quiet around here,” she said. “Can’t you see the little ones are sleeping? I have a busy schedule. Very-very. It looks like you may be in a tangled knot. But not to worry your curls about it, there is not much time left in this shrinking dungeon anyhow. You and your other furry-faces, and that loner in the corner, must have been a serious concern to be disposed of, within these walls, deep beneath the surface of the planet. Now, hush-hush. It’s too late to escape. Must not be disturbed. Can’t you see I’m busy? Very-very.”
“Shrinking dungeon?” Meowlen’s ears flattened. “Did I hear you right? That is not the mission I signed up for, my Alliance will not be impressed.” The black widow ignored the cat, and threw a silken thread over her and swung to Meowlen’s other side to collect her precious babies in the dangling nests.
“I’m taking my webs elsewhere,” she said. “I have other caves with crevices to choose from, much quieter. Plenty of hiding places in the underworld. She worked quickly to unravel her webs. Other spiders began winding up their threads and marched away in clusters, scrambling over each other as they went.
Maximojo picked some sticky strands from his coat. “Is everyone okay?” He stood up and almost tripped over Woofster and Whinniston, who were sprawled across the floor.
“Maximojo crouched low under the ceiling, and began feeling the condition of the walls around them. Dampness was seeping through the rock. “We must be beneath sea level, and this cave appears to be slowly collapsing in on us. Woofster watched with one eye barely open. He just couldn’t look. Spiders like critters, made his fur crawl and he never read any story about being crushed with no way out. “Ahem, sorry to interrupt, but we need to have a dog-to-dog mojo talk. It’s a dungeon isn’t it,” he said twisting his paws.
“Looks like it, but I’ll find a way out Woofster. I always do,” Maximojo said with surety.
Meowlen meticulously untangled the webs in Whinny’s forelocks while she listened. “Now just stay still, Whinn ... I will have you combed out in no time. You will be the most majestic whinny of the dungeon!”
Whinniston lips quivered. “Ease up with those knots. Gentle!” He had a brief memory of Millicent and bolted upright. But the space was too small, and his head cracked loose a layer sediment. It crumbled, almost ruining Meowlen’s fancy hairdo. She brushed it out, and continued to groom him. “You’re Whinny the Warrior now!”
“Tight spaces make me skittish. Er … pardon me. Did you say warrior?” he nickered, flinging his mane to the other side.
“Well, I saw most of what happened, and you put up quite a struggle.” Her eyes widened and turned blue. “A cat of my caliber has seen almost everything. I was infallible until our clash with that smelly gang. They were probably after my travel sack, but I was clever and hid it.” Meowlen pulled it out from under her sweatshirt. “You made a dashing effort to save me, but Whinn, I was doing just fine until you slipped into your heroic mood. It was good that one of your shoes flew off into the big leathery one’s face, though. He was furious and whacked you with his tail. You were out cold, but I was trooper and fought back.”
Woofster panted. “I would have covered you, Meowlen. The Mojo Team protects one other. But I was at the other end of the room slaying smoke clouds with Maximojo. Ahem, what I really mean was I watched the duo give it to those stink bombs but good. Wham! Maximojo sliced those offensive outbursts, while Glitta blasted from opposite angles. But that one with the stripe had an endless supply. What a scene with that berry-popper! Then something jumped me from behind. I was a little off guard, hard to admit being Woofster and all, but I put up a fight.”
Then, quietly to himself, he said, “Woofsie-woof, wait till the other dogs read about me. ‘Woofster. Ex guard dog. Trapped and doomed.’ ” I can see the headlines how.
Lou was curled up like a stale crumplet. He stared without blinking in a far corner of their prison, his pipe hanging out of his mouth. He had not missed a move of that nasty gang, and had kept a close eye on McFee at the opposite end of the study. He uncrossed his arms and began to fiddle with his pipe. Murky water dripped onto his head.
“Maximojo,” Lou said, “Your mission did not entail getting us trapped beneath the sewer grate. What went wrong?”
“Maybe if it weren’t for you we wouldn’t have been captured and taken to this horrid place,” Meowlen said. “Do you realize one of my lives might be over? Without victory? Without a sense of joy? Happiness? I’ve never experienced a defeat. This must be a mistake. A kittihood nightmare of sorts.” And it was. “Where’s the parrot?”
“He escaped,” Lou said quietly.
Maximojo reassured Meowlen. “This is just a slight detour on our mission. It happens every time.”
“Where is Glitta?” Meowlen said. “She’ll find a way out with those wings of hers.”
Woofster looked disappointed. “No treats, spacecakes or cosmic cuisine around this place,” he sniffed. “I am sure the authorities, somewhere, have been alerted and we should be rescued soon, right Maximojo?”
“Rescued by whom? Meowlen said. “No one knows we’ve been taken prisoner except those stinkers! You read too many stories.” But she wondered whether she should change her outfit, just in case.
“Not even a patch of grass,” Whinniston hoofed through a pile of rocks just to be sure. “Would the Ruler of Kavalon know we were captured even though we haven’t met him yet?”
“Where I’m from,” Lou said, “I can do almost anything, but I am powerless in this dungeon. So I guess it’s up to you, Maximojo. I knew you and that wand were going to stir up a lot of chaos, but I couldn’t resist coming in for a closer look.” He lapsed into thought. “So this is a Fa-Hairy Tail Story.”
“No worries,” said Meowlen, “I travel with a custom-designed wardrobe for extended adventures.” Regally, she regained composure and donned a dignified pin-stripe jumpsuit and matching headband. She pinned on an onyx brooch to the ensemble. “Best to be prepared for anything,” she said. “Would anyone like a crumplet? I stashed a few from the party.”
Woofster caught a glimpse of a glowing light coming from Whinniston’s mane. From behind a braid, Glitta flitted out, flashy as ever.
“Where have you been?” everyone asked at once.
“Whe
n I saw the gang knock you out, and the look in McFee’s eyes as he started to move in on me, I hid.”
Whinniston struck a pose, proud that she had chosen him as a refuge. The Alliance would praise him in their report.
Maximojo’s ears flopped over in relief, and he pulled out the PolyMatrixor. “Glitta, we’ve lost all communication to the satellite. The screen is blank. There must be stray currents to hook into so we can transmit a link up to the Council, as my sensor is flashing non-stop. It’s around here somewhere.”
“Stariola! There's one!” Glitta flared, lighting up the dungeon. She emitted a surge of radiation and captured a pocket of static electricity. She twisted it, then angled the current at the PolyMatrixor. We are now hooked up to radio waves!”
Maximojo turned on the device. It self-wired, transmitting instantly to the satellite. He detected a faint signal. “Council can you read?”
The incoming response from the Council read, “It appears you have been taken captive by a smuggler we’ve been looking for. You were off the radar. Clarification is requested of your current coordinates. A recent intelligence report indicates that the sewer gang has plans to take over the Kingdom during the phase-in of Kalapsis. It appears they unknowingly work for McFee. Is that Lou with you, and where is the parrot? Advise and update. Council out.”
Just then, a static charge swept across the dungeon and threw everyone against the floor. The Council’s signal disappeared.
Chapter 9
Captain Daltoid Swaggelot stepped out onto the balcony and took in the crispness of dawn. Inside, the palace was adorned with celestial ceilings and a staircase in the central foyer that seemed to wind up to the heavens. Each room was uniquely furnished with a cosmic design. The balcony overlooked manicured gardens blossoming in different colors for every season.
The palace glistened from the evening frost that had begun to melt beneath the sunshine. The light reflected on distant waters. He was transfixed by the riveting mood of the morning sun. It passed fleetingly over the skies as a rolling cloud blanketed the land.
The birds fluttering around him were swept away in a gust of wind. “Your behavior is becoming unpredictable,” he chided the wind. “Is there any reason to brush our feathered ones away so abruptly?” Lately, he had observed changing weather patterns, and he vaguely remembered something similar taking place during a certain triple eclipse. But weather records were not a priority in the land, so there was no way to know for sure.
“Clarenette would never approve of having conversations with the wind, or perhaps she would, secretively,” he said to the birds. Pacing across the marble-tiled balcony, he enjoyed a panoramic view of the Kingdom. He leaned onto the rail to look over his land. “Kavalon is spectacular when its colors come alive,” he said. He breathed deeply, drawing in the exquisite richness.
The meteorite railing was radioactive, giving the Captain’s vision heightened acuity. As he gripped the rail, he felt a surge all the way to his feet. The floor shook as his sight soared over mountaintops. Fog descended and draped the countryside as the sun made its way over to the other side of the planet. Incoming moonlight sliced through a cloud. “It appears morning has sped past and disappeared into night without warning. Time is off,” he said.
His vision grew even keener. Tides in the distant seas collided and crashed against each other, and rising into a column of water.
Being a captain at heart, he knew the sea was a force that could not be controlled. “It’s coming this way,” he said. He leaned out farther, tracking the crest of a wave as it rushed toward him and crashed against the base of the tower. White foam swept up the its sides.
“It’s trying to overtake me! It will never happen during my reign. As the Ruler of Kavalon, may I ask what brings the anger within your deepest waters to such a peak on such a fine day? Is it a sign that I am missed at sea? Are you beckoning me into your arms?” The sea gently calmed in reply.
The moonlit fog began to form into a creature. The Captain squinted at it as shockwaves continued to reverberate along the balcony. The picture slowly came into focus. It looked to him like a parrot, with a long tail and dangling legs.
“It looks so real,” the Captain said, and shook his head to clear away the vision. But it remained floating above the balcony. He reached out to it, but felt nothing. Only an illusion, he decided. The fog figure dispersed, revealing again the blue morning sky and bright sun.
“So I see we are back into the order of the day,” he mused. “My imagination got the best of me. Now I am talking to fog. Perhaps Clarenette sprinkled extra spice on my breakfast crumplets. She was always surprising me.”
He winked at the birds that had returned. “We have been visited by many species of birds lately,” he said. “These peculiar-looking birds must have flown into Kavalon from foreign lands.”
Clarenette stood silently in the doorway that led onto the balcony from their private quarters in the palace. She turned and walked inside, adjusting her hairpin. She left behind no shadow.
***
Captain Daltoid Swaggelot was distinguished and strong. He had a presence that reigned over the land, and a head of velvety black hair that kept his eye patch in place over his right eye. The patch told the final story of his life at sea, where one journey had ended and another began.
He had a vague recollection about his final day at sea, an encounter perhaps he chose to forget. He remembered owning a fleet of ships that sailed the world over. During his last voyage, the Captain and crew encountered pirates out to steal the treasures his ship carried. When the crew was preparing to switch course to catch the opposing winds, the pirates hoisted themselves over the ship’s stern and flopped aboard. The scaly creatures grew to an incredible size. The Captain was heroic and fought them, but their weight began to capsize the ship. Something struck the Captain with a mighty blow as the ship went under.
He remembered lying on the shore of a strange land. But then things got fuzzy in his mind. He could only recall waking up in a hospital and seeing Clarenette’s smile. Her beauty lit up the room. He learned that her full name was Clarenette Clare, and that she was the day nurse. He was captured by her warmth. She cleaned and bandaged his wound, and secretly brought him mouthwatering berry tarts that she baked daily. They became his favorite dessert. Clarenette seemed to know more about him than even he did.
There was something mesmerizing in the twinkle of her smile, and when she pulled out the hairpin that held her beehive bun, he knew they were meant to be together forever. Every evening she sang her sweet good night to him. Taken by her charm, he knew his dream had come true. She won his heart, forever.
When he fully recovered, the people of Kavalon, being without a legitimate Ruler at the time, bestowed upon the Captain the “Scepter of the Kingdom” for his bravery on traitorous seas. The coronation and his union with Clarenette was the grandest affair that had ever graced the land.
“If it wasn’t for Clarenette,” he often thought, “my life would have never been so rich.”
Clarenette acquired a passion for needlepoint, using iridescent silks weaved from precious gems. The glistening threads were harvested in underground caves in the far reaches of Kavalon. Clarenette would surprise the Captain with crafted eye patches in every color imaginable. She had a grand imagination, especially when it came to his happiness.
The Captain’s presence empowered all the citizens to create beauty everywhere, in structures and gardens, and in everything they touched. The Captain had appointed Advisors to oversee matters of his Kingdom. Everyone held him in high esteem for his accomplishments.
His most respected authority for Mining Explorations and Land Projects was none other than Rutland Ratkin.
***
Rutty reveled in his triumph. His diabolical scheme had exceeded his expectations. The gang scurried through the water lines on the return trip to their underground castle. They banged victoriously on the pipes. The noise went unnoticed in the bustling world above the sew
er grate. Rutty was still not satisfied with the capture. Something was missing.
“Where’s my wand, Letcho?”
“I don’t know,” the lizzardo said. “She must’ve vanished somehow, because she wasn’t anywhere when we were stuffing the sacks with the others.”
“It wasn’t his fault Rutty, he’s tired,” said Smelka. She felt sorry for him. He looked exhausted from carrying the sacks of prisoners into the secret entrance to the dungeon.
“I’m not tired,” Letcho hissed, “and I also had to carry you back, Smelka!”
Smelka sighed. “But it was my last blast that knocked the rest out,” she said.
“Look who’s trying to take all the credit,” Letcho said.
“You’re just stinky weaponry with limited storage,” Scrapsie said, “not like my pincers that never cease to pinch! Who do you think got that nosey space dog?” He disappeared with a sharp smack into a cracked pipeline and plummeted into the tunnel.
Maximojo and the Wand of Light Page 9