by Adam Wallace
‘Many of you will die this night, foul creatures.’
King Cyril almost laughed out loud as he realised his plan had worked. He had let Faydon think it was his idea to bring the boy along, but King Cyril the Modest had thought that another sacrifice would come in very handy to distract the Mantrils. He still had Marloynne, his main sacrifice, he still had Faydon, the Mantrils had business other than himself to deal with, and come morning they would be safe. He assumed it was just the three of them left, but men’s lives weren’t a concern to the King. By the next day they would be off the plains and only two days’ march south of the Wilderene Flower. What awaited them there he didn’t really know, but he didn’t particularly care either. He was sure that his brains, Faydon’s magic, and the sacrifice of Marloynne would be enough. As he walked he could hear cries in the distance and now he did laugh out loud, patting Faydon on the back. The three men walked into the night and out of the Plains of Obon.
rs McGee lay in bed. She had woken early, thinking she heard the sound of Pete rising, wishing it were so. She missed him terribly. The house had seemed empty since his departure. Pete’s enthusiasm would fill the place; it was infectious. He was the only thing that made her feel as if she had something to offer. And he would make her laugh. They would laugh until she would begin to cough, and even as Pete held her, rubbing her back, she could sense the smile on his face. Once the coughing stopped, Pete would leave and she would hear him laughing in another room, getting it out of his system. At times like that she felt as though it didn’t matter that she was sick. But now the house missed him, missed his laughter.
Mrs McGee was grateful for Ashlyn’s company and help, but unfortunately her illness had gotten to the stage where she had a constant fever, she could barely move without stabbing pains running through her body, and the coughing fits were more frequent and more violent. Ashlyn did all she could to lessen the effects, but she was no doctor. Mrs McGee knew that she was not long for this world and, although she did not fear death, she hoped that her son would return soon. She wanted to see him one more time, even if it was just to say goodbye.
Pete McGee woke slowly, a cool breeze from the open window gently rousing him. His eyes didn’t want to open, but he forced them to, as he realised that he had no idea where he was. He didn’t even know when it was. He sat up and saw that he was dressed in strange clothes. His note! There, by the bed. His clothes had been cleaned and repaired, and were neatly piled, and the note from his mum rested on top, along with Ashlyn’s crystal and his dagger. Breathing a sigh of relief he set his focus on trying to work out where he was. His last memory was of battling the Mantrils and of Sir Loinsteak’s appearance. A quick glance around the room offered no clues as to his whereabouts. Pete walked over to the window and looked out at a sea of colour. The sun had risen only moments before and reds, yellows and oranges were plastered across the sky. The ground was covered with a smooth matting of grass, a pleasant change from the dusty, barren earth at the McGee’s home. A river wound its way through the village, children laughing and splashing at its banks. Off to the right Pete saw a field of flowers, and to the left agricultural fields. People wandered around, smiling at each other, chatting. Pete could see the buildings had been worked into the land, rather than destroying it. They seemed to be made from mud, and all of them had designs etched into the walls, each house telling a story of its owners, past and present. It was amazing. The whole town exuded peacefulness. Pete McGee breathed in the fresh air and felt it soak into his body, refreshing him.
Pete took off the clothes he had been dressed in, feeling a need to be back in his own gear. After undressing he saw that his body was covered in wicked wounds. Gingerly he ran a finger along a massive scar down his thigh, only to find that it was just the tiniest bit sore. Pete smiled, and wondered again just where he could be. Wherever it was, they must have incredible doctors. A knock at the door stung him into action, as the realisation that he was just in his underwear set in.
‘Um, yep, okay, I’ll be right there.’
Over the years Pete had worked out a fine system for dressing himself with just the one arm. Now, however, it was a mad scramble, and all systems went out the window. Legs went into the same trouser hole. His head went where his arm should have gone. He fell over twice trying to put on his shoes. Finally, after much grunting and groaning, he was dressed. He picked up the bedside table he had knocked over and stood in front of the door clutching his note and crystal.
‘Come in,’ he called. At least now he might get an explanation of where he was and how he had been healed and how long it had been since his battle with the Mantrils and maybe even some information on King Cyril and Marloynne and where they were and if they had survived the plains and …
The door opened to reveal two people, a boy and a girl, who had to be twins. Pete guessed they were about his age, maybe a bit older. Both of them obviously spent a heap of time outdoors as they were tanned and fit. The boy was the taller of the two. He had short, spiky blonde hair and a non-stop grin, his eyes twinkling. He was full of energy and bounced into the room. The girl stood in the doorway and looked more concerned. Pete couldn’t take his eyes off her though. She was a knockout, with long, blonde hair and eyes that seemed to stare right inside him.
‘Hey, you’re tin-cup,’ the boy said, still smiling widely.
‘Huh?’ was Pete McGee’s response, as he slowly took his focus off the girl.
‘You’re tin cup, you know, you’ve finished your R & B and are tin-cup.’
Pete stared blankly and wondered what strange language he was talking. He glanced over at the girl. She smiled, shook her head, then walked in and gave the boy a clip over the ear.
‘Will you just stop it, Molloy? I told you no-one knows what you’re talking about when you go on like that.’
‘But it’s such a swimming way to Cannons Creek.’
‘STOP IT!’ The girl turned back to Pete. ‘Sorry about that, but he loves speaking in rhyming slang. The problem is he makes it all up himself and leaves out stuff and it’s stupid. So, like, a swimming way to Cannons Creek means a cool way to speak. Swimming is short for swimming pool, which then rhymes with cool. Cannons Creek rhymes with speak.
‘And R & B?’ Pete queried. The boy snorted, as if the answer was perfectly obvious. The girl clipped him over the ear again before answering.
‘Rhythm and Blues. Rhymes with snooze. Tin cup meant up. Some of it’s alright, but it takes ages to talk to him ‘cos you have to guess what he means half the time. You do get used to it though. By the way, I’m Tahnee, and this is my brother Molloy.’
‘I’m Pete McGee.’ Pete held out his hand to Tahnee, but Molloy leapt in.
‘Pleased to one-way ya Pete.’
Pete’s brain went into overdrive. One-way = one-way street = meet. Yeah! He was getting the hang of it. Molloy continued.
‘The knight told us who ya mangy cur.’
Mangy cur meant were. At least that’s what Pete hoped it meant, otherwise he just got called a dog. Tahnee could see Pete was almost going cross-eyed trying to understand Molloy, so she jumped in to save him.
‘MOLLOY! Go and tell Dad that Pete’s awake will you?’
‘But I want to …’
‘GO NOW!’
Molloy left, grumbling under his breath about something in a ditch. Tahnee apologised for her brother again, but Pete thought Molloy was unreal, banana peel in fact. He began to focus again.
‘Where am I, Tahnee?’
‘You’re in our village, Bandragon. You’ve been here for two days. The knight brought you here, but you were out of it. He told us that you’d made it across the Plains of Obon. Is that true?’
Pete ran his hand across the scar on his cheek and nodded. Tahnee was staring, and when Pete caught her looking at him they both looked away. Pete had known from the start that Tahnee was a stunner, but the little look away was, wow, it was like, umm, anyway, he just, phew, he was lost for words. He wanted to say someth
ing smart but the only words that came into his head were ‘WOW’ and ‘hubber-hubber-hubber’. Luckily, Tahnee spoke, and Pete was glad to see she seemed a little uncomfortable now as well.
‘Um, anyway, so my dad, he sort of runs Bandragon. I guess he’s like a mayor or something. He sent us over to check on you, but he wants to meet you himself. I think the knight told him stuff, but he wants to hear from you why you crossed the plains, and how, and where it is you’re going. The knight wouldn’t tell me and Molloy anything, except about how you and he fought the Mantrils. I don’t think we’d have believed it if we hadn’t seen how beat up you were when you first arrived. I can’t wait to hear your story either, Pete. Really. But first I’d better go and tell Dad that you’re up and about. He goes nuts talking to Molloy. I shouldn’t have sent him over, but I wanted to talk to you for a bit by myself.’
Tahnee flashed a smile at Pete that made him go weak at the dog’s fleas. He shyly smiled back as Tahnee turned to leave.
‘Come over soon. Dad’ll be waiting. It’s down the hall, go to the end, and then through the doors on your right. They’re huge. You can’t miss them. Oh, by the way, you might want to take a look at your top before you meet Dad.’
Tahnee laughed and ran out the door, Pete staring after her, speechless. He shook his head to clear it of her image, then looked down at his top. Throwing his head back in embarrassment he groaned.
‘Oh man, I am such a doofus!’
That wasn’t rhyming slang. The mad scramble had apparently been too confusing, and Pete’s top was on back-to-front. He slipped his arm free, spun the top around and reinserted his arm. After putting on his jacket he placed his note and crystal in the inside pocket and headed out the door.
ete McGee walked down the carpeted hall, trying to take in everything he saw. Paintings covered the walls, portraits mainly, and Pete figured that they were of past and present town leaders. He stopped and took a closer look at the last painting, which was of a man who just had to be the twins’ father. He had an extremely serious look on his face, but his eyes had that sparkle in them. It was like looking at a picture of Molloy in thirty years’ time. He moved on from the painting and turned to face two of the biggest doors he’d ever seen. Made from wood, the doors had amazing patterns and pictures carved into them. There were humans, animals, monsters, battle scenes, landscapes. It was awesome. Awesome in size and totally awesome-looking. Pete raised the huge knocker and knocked once. He worried that the knock hadn’t been loud enough, but a voice boomed out for him to enter. Pete grabbed the door handle and pulled, but nothing happened. The door was as heavy as it looked. He braced his legs and pulled harder, thinking that opening the door with two hands would be a whole lot easier. He strained and gritted his teeth. Beads of sweat started to form on his face, and he pulled until his arm ached. Nothing. Breathing hard, Pete leant against the door and it pushed open easily, sending him stumbling forwards. Ah, push, got it. When he regained his balance he found he was in an enormous room. Everything seemed so big, and Pete was reminded of the small house he shared with his mother. It seemed as if it would fit twice into this one room!
Tahnee and Molloy stood at the side of a massive desk in the centre of the room, and they both waved hello enthusiastically. Pete waved back, still feeling a bit dwarfed by everything. The man who sat at the desk seemed to fit perfectly in the room. He was huge! He was also the spitting image of the guy in the last portrait. Molloy was finding it hard to stay quiet.
‘Hey, Pete, how do ya like the mop ‘n’ broom?’
He was silenced immediately by a look from his father, who motioned for Pete to sit opposite him.
‘Well, young McGee, I am glad to see you are okay. You certainly weren’t when you first arrived in our village.’
The twins’ dad was the owner of the booming voice that had called out earlier.
‘Thank you, Sir,’ Pete answered. ‘May I ask how I am okay?’
‘You may, and I will answer. But all in good time. First, I will introduce myself. I am Mortone. I welcome you on behalf of the village of Bandragon. You are free to stay here for as long as you like, and to take from here whatever you wish.’
Mortone noticed Pete glance briefly at Tahnee. He suppressed a laugh with a fake cough, his hand covering his mouth. He regained his composure and spoke to Pete sternly, although there was laughter in his voice.
‘Almost anything.’
Pete blushed.
‘Yes, Sir.’
‘Very good. Now though, you must tell us about your journey thus far, and what it is you seek. Sir Loinsteak has told me some minor details, but I wish to hear it from you. So please, speak.’
As he had been with Santora, Pete was unsure of how much to tell these people. But as he spoke it all began to flow.
Mortone, Tahnee and Molloy listened in silence, amazed at what Pete had been through to this point and what he still must face. Finally Pete spoke of crossing the Plains of Obon, and all that he could remember of his battle with the Mantrils.
‘And now I’m here, wherever here might be. I don’t know if King Cyril or Marloynne made it out of the plains. I don’t really know how I did, and I don’t know why my wounds don’t hurt.’
And so Pete finished his story. It felt good to tell someone about it, although it had raised unanswered questions. Mortone was looking at him intently, turning over the story in his mind. Molloy was jumping up and down, telling his dad how they had to go and get the flower with Pete McGee, they just had to help him. And Tahnee. Tahnee was staring at Pete with a whole new admiration. Their eyes met for an instant, but in that instant Pete felt as though he would have done anything she asked. Mortone’s voice brought him back to earth.
‘That is quite a journey, Pete. Quite a journey indeed. I can answer your questions, although I am afraid that the only help we can offer you is via supplies, directions and our good wishes. This is your quest, and so it is you who must complete it.’
Pete nodded. He hadn’t expected anything different. Molloy, however, kicked at the ground and yelled at his dad. He was sent from the room, muttering about chimps. When he had gone, Mortone turned to Pete.
‘Firstly, do not concern yourself with time. After Sir Loinsteak told me of your quest, I sent out scouts. The King and two others survived the plains, although in fleeing the Mantrils they ran off course. They are on track to arrive where the Wilderene Flower lies late this afternoon. Our town is less than half a day from that same point, so you are free to arrive there before, after, or at the same time as the King. It is your choice. As for your wounds, a combination of the skill of our healers, a little magic, and some extra care courtesy of young Tahnee here …’
‘DAD!’
Mortone smiled at his daughter’s embarrassment and winked at Pete before continuing.
‘… all helped to return you to health. You were not in a good way when you arrived. The Mantrils had struck you many times, and you lost much blood. Physically you were exhausted, and to battle the Mantrils is also mentally draining. But now you are returned to full fitness, much to my daughter’s relief.’
‘Oh, far out, Dad.’ Tahnee whirled around and stormed out of the room, her long blonde hair flying out behind her. Pete stared after her.
‘She’s certainly a fiery one, but she is as loyal as they come. Molloy too. Both of them are great kids, really great, but boy, once they decide they want to do something they aren’t easy to budge. Molloy will go on, even after you’ve left, about how we should be helping you. He has a bright future as a soldier, that boy. And if not a soldier, a comedian or court jester. Tahnee, she shows talent as a healer. She tended your wounds for many hours. She is the main reason you healed as well as you have.’
The thought of Tahnee tending to his wounds sent a shock through Pete, and he stared at the ground, scared to look Mortone in the eye. Mortone guessed what he was thinking and the broad smile returned.
‘Do not worry. I have been assured that you were well covered a
t all of the times Tahnee was present.’
The relief on Pete’s face was immense and caused Mortone to laugh a deep, booming laugh.
‘Let us move on. We must talk business. I will tell you how to find the flower from our village.’
Mortone pulled a map of the surrounding lands from a drawer, laid it out on the desk, and showed Pete the safest and easiest route to take. It seemed quite simple and no dangers were mentioned. Pete wasn’t in any huge rush, and decided that he could do without any new surprises, so would stick to the route described. Mortone let Pete take in the details of the remainder of his trip, then suggested they go and have some lunch.
Pete McGee agreed with the lunch suggestion. In fact, he had never agreed with anything more wholeheartedly in his life. He was Marvin. Oh no, now I’m using rhyming shebang. There I go Big Ben. AAAAAGGGHHHHHHHHHH! ! ! ! !
ortone led the way to the dining room. A mighty banquet had been prepared. Pete McGee stopped in the doorway and stared; he had never seen so much food in his life. With his mother there had always been enough food to keep them comfortable, although comfortable here is a relative term. The food that was laid out in the main dining room would have fed the McGees for a month. It was mouth-watering. And there were people everywhere. Pete didn’t know if this was how they ate all the time or if it was some sort of special occasion, but it seemed as though the whole town was there. Pete took a seat between Tahnee and Molloy. He took the shining silver goblet Tahnee offered him and drank deeply from it, the bubbles tickling his nose. He began to fill his plate, although he took small portions of food at first, mainly because he had never taken more than he’d needed before. When Molloy saw how little his friend had taken, all etiquette went out the window. He began throwing food to Pete, who watched stupefied as everything from bread to shanks of meat to mashed vegetables to an entire cream-filled cake was flung towards his plate, some even landing on it. Pete was a little shocked that Molloy would do that in front of all these people, but no-one else seemed to care. Pete guessed that they were used to Molloy.