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BEYOND THE LOOKING-GLASS: Book One in the BEYOND Series

Page 5

by Rothwell, Gordon


  Kellen dove through the air.

  He tackled the Indian and both men fell to the turf with a thud. Aleeta tore herself free from her tormentor’s grip and scrambled away to safety.

  Kellen clung to the powerful Indian, trying to keep his adversary from burying his razor-sharp hatchet deep inside his skull. But the Indian was far too strong. He broke free from Kellen’s sweaty grasp, and raised one sinewy arm and swiped with his hatchet. Kellen ducked, but the sharp blade nicked the top of his ear.

  The pain was excruciating. His own blood splashed into his eyes. In a rage, he lashed out with both feet and connected with the Indian’s groin. The brawny savage fell backward, sprawling awkwardly on the clearing grass.

  Kellen wiped away a gush of crimson from his eyes. He stood up defiantly, facing his enemy. The Indian pounced back up on his feet and crouched forward, tossing his deadly hatchet back and forth from hand to hand. He could hear the brave sucking in air with deep gulps, as he prepared to attack again.

  With a screaming war whoop, the Indian lunged with hatchet held high. The Indian’s rush toppled Kellen over onto his back. In a split second, the savage was astride his foe. Kellen could see the brave’s eyes were crazed and filled with hatred. The man’s angry face was contorted into a grotesque mask, as he prepared to deliver a final death blow.

  Kellen closed his blood-splattered eyes, expecting to feel the sharp edge of the hatchet pierce his flesh the next instant.

  But it didn’t come.

  A loud shot rang out, echoing across the clearing.

  He opened his eyes. The Indian had fallen off of him and was holding his injured wrist. The deadly hatchet lay just a few feet away.

  The Indian dove for the hatchet. But he was too late. Aleeta stood there with her foot on it, preventing him from recovering it.

  Aleeta leaned down and took the hatchet in her right hand. She moved like a stalking jungle cat toward the injured Indian. Kellen could see his ex-wife was boiling mad. And that did not bode well for this Indian.

  “How dare you,” Aleeta growled. “I’ll show you that it doesn’t pay to go around terrorizing innocent women. If there’s any chopping to be done this day, I’ll be doing it.” Aleeta was just about to send her Indian attacker to his Happy Hunting Grounds when a harsh voice called out.

  “Hold on there, Ma’am. There’s to be no killing in Sherwood this day. By order of the king. And I mean to abide by his rules. And that goes for you, too, Magua. You sneaky, back-stabbing son-of-a-bitch.”

  The speaker stepped out of the shadows of the trees at the edge of the clearing. He was a tall, bearded man dressed in animal skins and a raccoon cap. He carried a long rifle that was still smoking and had a hatchet of his own tucked into his waistband. He was accompanied by two powerfully-built Indians. But these men looked different somehow from the crazed one nursing his wound.

  “You stay out of this, Hawkeye,” Kellen’s attacker muttered. “This is not your affair. You and your Delaware curs have caused me enough grief. These strangers are French spies. I will deal with them my way.”

  Hawkeye looked at one of his Indian companion. “What do you think, Chingachgook?”

  “He liar,” the Delaware said flatly.

  “Agreed. Magua, you wily fox, you have some gall accusing anyone of spying for the French, you treacherous Huron scum.”

  “You hurt Magua, Long Rifle,” the Indian spat back. “Someday I have all three of your scalps hanging on lodge pole outside my hut.”

  “There’ll be no chopping up people in Sherwood, today or any day.” Robin and several Lincoln-green clad men had joined the discussion. Robin glowered at Magua who was still holding his injured wrist.

  “You’ve no business here, Huron,” Robin continued. “No one’s permitted access to these grounds without the express permission of our noble monarch. He’s agreed Sherwood can be open to all men good and true who shall abide by his sovereign rules. And you, sir, have violated a sacred trust. We shall not abide the butchering of any visitors to this forest, spies or no spies. Begone, wretch, before I place an arrow between your eyes.”

  Magua began stalking away. He looked back at Hawkeye. “Deerslayer, I’ll cut your heart out someday.”

  Hawkeye leaned on his long rifle. “You heard Robin, Huron. Git. And if we ever meet again, I shall shoot your eyes out and leave you to wander blind forever in the afterlife.”

  Robin turned to Kellen who was hugging Aleeta to his side. Her anger had dissolved and she appeared shaken from her close call. “I’m truly sorry, milady. I think we’ve delayed the quest for your lost children far too long. I’ll provide you with a few supplies for your journey. And one of my men can escort you back to The Yellow Brick Road.”

  Aleeta stepped forward, curtseyed, and kissed Robin Hood’s outstretched hand. “Thank you, milord. We truly appreciate all your help.”

  As Aleeta and Kellen left the clearing, they could hear Magua off in the distance howling and cursing at the top of his lungs.

  ~*~

  ELEVEN

  They hadn’t gone far on the Yellow Brick Road when it split in two directions. They stood at the crossroads, unable to decide which way to go.

  “What’ll we do?” Aleeta said. “Which way should we go now? Look at all these awful trees by the road. Their branches are so thick they almost blot out the sun.”

  Kellen put his arm around Aleeta and she didn’t pull away. “Come on, buck up,” he said, trying to sound cheerful under the circumstances. “Let’s not panic, yet. Maybe the worst is behind us. There can’t be too many ways the kids could’ve gone.”

  “That’s safe to assume,” purred a strange voice from a tree limb just above their heads. Kellen looked up. A big, fluffy feline grinned down at him mockingly.

  “Oh, Kel,” Aleeta whispered. “It’s Alice’s Cheshire Cat.”

  “What do you want of us?” Kellen demanded.

  “What do you two want of me?” the big striped cat teased.

  “We’re lost,” Aleeta answered. “Can you please tell us where we can find our children?”

  “Somewhere,” the Cat answered in a smug voice.

  “But where?” Aleeta pleaded.

  “I said somewhere,” the Cat taunted. “You can get there from here if you keep walking long enough, you know.”

  “It’s no use, Allie,” Kellen said. “That stupid cat isn’t going to help us. We’re unwanted invaders of this blasted chamber you created. We’ll simply have to find the way on our own. Let’s go!”

  “WAIT!” the Cat yowled.

  “Oh please, Kel,” Aleeta begged. “Listen to it.” She stepped closer to the limb. And Kellen reluctantly joined her.

  The Cheshire Cat waited until it was sure it had the full attention of its audience. “Well,” it began, “in that direction lives a Hatter.” It indicated the way with a wave of its furry paw. “And in the other direction lives a March Hare. If you visit them you’ll find them both quite mad.”

  “But we just want to find our children,” Aleeta implored.

  “Find the Hatter and the Hare…and you may discover your children, too, Madam,” the Cat said.

  With that, it vanished slowly--beginning with its tail--until only the mocking grin remained.

  “Come on,” Kellen said. “Let’s get out of here. This place gives me the willies. I think I see an opening in that thicket beside the road. Follow me.”

  He looked back over his shoulder at that high tree limb where that rude feline had perched. The Cheshire Cat’s grin was still visible. It was taking its time to disappear.

  The two of them discovered a slight hole in a section of matted thicket. They wriggled through, but it was tough going. They had to scratch and claw their way through a barricade of prickly branches and tangled masses of stubborn roots.

  After a short time of slashing through dense underbrush they found themselves standing at the edge of a small clearing. In the center of it rested a long table. Several odd-looking figures
were grouped at each end.

  And none of them appeared to be very welcoming.

  Two of the trio at the nearest end of the table began waving their arms in the air frantically and shouting.

  “No room, no room,” the pair screeched, when they saw two strangers edging closer. Aleeta laughed softly, as she approached the larger partygoer. It was apparent to Kellen she recognized this weird little man in a cocked top hat, ruffled shirt, frayed jacket and knickers.

  “How do you do, Mr. Hatter,” Aleeta said cordially. “It’s a pleasure to meet you at last. I’ve read so much about you. Could you tell us please if you’ve seen our children pass this way? We seem to have lost them.”

  “Children?” the Mad Hatter snorted. He glanced over at a large rabbit sitting nearby. “Have we seen any strange children, Mr. Hare?”

  The March Hare scratched behind one floppy big ear with his hind leg. The big rabbit twitched his nose a few times before replying to The Hatter. “I do believe two little ones did join our party. But they’re gone now. We’re all gone, you know. Only some of us refuse to accept it. Do you know why a scientist is like a stone?’

  “No,” Aleeta answered.

  “Because dear lady, neither one has a heart.”

  A tiny dormouse that had been sleeping at this end of the table suddenly shook itself and began to recite:

  “Twinkle, twinkle little drone,

  Up above us all alone.

  If you bomb us from on high,

  We can kiss the world bye-bye.”

  “Enough!” the March Hare said.

  The little dormouse quickly went back to sleep.

  The Mad Hatter squinted at Kellen and Aleeta. “If you insist on joining our party, you’ll have to sit at the far end of the table with the other guests.”

  They strolled down the table to where three other outlandish figures were sitting. Kellen wasn’t exactly sure who he was looking at.

  There was a huge, bearded giant holding a menacing club. A Hessian soldier, dressed in a mud-splattered uniform and cloak, cradling his severed head under his arm. And a grotesque, three-headed troll whose body was completely covered in a blanket of green moss. The creature had piggy little eyes, a bulbous red nose, and a wrinkled face with ugly warts.

  The giant moved over on his bench and motioned for the two newcomers to sit with him. He stroked his matted black beard and addressed Kellen in a booming voice.

  “You seen Jack, mister?”

  “Jack?”

  “A small boy lugging a white goose and a golden harp. You couldn’t miss him.”

  Kellen gulped. The giant was scary. “I’m afraid I haven’t.”

  The giant’s face twisted into a frightful grimace and his eyes glittered with anger.

  “If ever I catch that little rogue, I’m gonna spill his beans.” The giant whacked the table with his knotted club and the sound thundered through the forest.

  “Excuse me, Mr. Giant,” Aleeta interrupted. “We’re looking for our missing children. Did you see them around here?”

  The giant glowered at Aleeta. “I love small children. Especially broiled on toast.” The giant stared at a teapot and tray of cookies on the table in front of him. “They taste a lot better than tea and these here munchies.”

  Aleeta didn’t flinch at the giant’s taste for children. She kept boring in. She was not to be put off about the possible location of her kids.

  “Maybe one of your charming companions saw them.”

  The giant hooted. “You won’t get nuthin’ outta them two. The one with no head is no fun. And neither’s that moss-backed troll who don’t speak no language anybody ever heard of. And that goes for all three of his festering heads.”

  “How did you all wind up together?” Kellen asked, hoping to wrangle something out of the giant about the kids.

  “Well,” the giant replied, “I found this here Hessian wandering around in a meadow. He must’ve fallen off his horse and it run away. And that cursed troll was in some bushes by the road looking for a dinner of grubs and salamanders.”

  The headless Hessian stirred in his seat, causing a tiny cloud smelling of fire and brimstone to billow forth.

  Aleeta, holding her nose, asked: “Why do you stay with them? When you dislike them so.”

  The giant yanked on his beard once more. “The Hessian’s not much for talking. That can be plumb aggravating. But he never argues, or eats any of my food. And the troll is happy if I toss him a lizard or a frog once in a while. I could have worse companions to travel with I suppose.”

  Before Kellen could comment, the giant jumped up to his feet. He held his head high and sniffed the air.

  “Fee-fi-fo-fum,” the giant bellowed. “I smell the blood of a fearsome one.”

  The teacups began to dance around on the top of the table. And the earth beneath their feet was shaking and quivering violently.

  Kellen and Aleeta turned their eyes on the edge of the forest….and froze.

  A monstrous, winged dragon clawed its way through the thick foliage and was coming toward the clearing at an incredible speed.

  “Omigod, Kel,” Aleeta cried out. “It’s the Jabberwock!”

  The fire-breathing dragon pounded along the turf on huge claws. The air in the clearing was filled with the fetid odor of phosphor.

  Before any of the terrified party-goers could flee or react, the Jabberwock was on them. It loomed high above the table, staring down at the puny human forms beneath it with burning crimson eyes.

  The Jabberwock leaned down, nose-to-nose with Aleeta, saliva dripping from its fang-congested jaw. The droplets burst into small flames as they hit the turf. The dragon flexed its powerful, scale-covered wings. And swung its massive armor-plated tail back and forth with a loud SWISH.

  Aleeta didn’t give ground. Or show any fear. Kellen couldn’t help but admire her spunk. He felt at this moment that he had always underestimated her.

  The stand-off lasted only seconds.

  The Jabberwock’s red eyes widened. Kellen saw Aleeta stiffen, preparing to be incinerated by the monster’s flaming breath.

  He couldn’t stand by and let that happen.

  Kellen leaped up onto the Jabberwock’s back. As the dragon roared and bucked like a wild bronco, Kellen hung on for dear life. But his effort was doomed. The dragon knocked him off and flung him high into the air with its tail.

  When the angry dragon turned to Aleeta and lowered it scaly head again, it didn’t get a chance to open its jaws and spew out its death-dealing stream of fire.

  Aleeta calmly reached out, took a teapot in her slender hands, and threw the boiling contents into the startled Jabberwock’s eye slits.

  When the blinded dragon screamed in agony and thrashed all about, the giant saw his opportunity. He jumped up on the table and bashed the huge beast in the face with his large club. He rained down blow after blow. And the Jabberwock retreated.

  As the deadly duel between club-wielding giant and flame-spouting dragon began, Aleeta ran over the Kellen’s fallen body. She pulled him to his feet.

  “Let’s get the hell out of here, Kel. This show’s been fun. But we’re not sticking around for the final act.”

  Hand-in-hand, they fled back into the forest.

  ~*~

  TWELVE

  Anton and Nikki stood at the center of the scorched and smoky clearing. The huge corpse of a dragon lay on its back with its claws in the air. Its massive tail had been severed and lay twitching in the grass nearby. A few feet from the fallen Jabberwock, a battered giant’s crimson-laced body was face down in a puddle of blood.

  An oddly-assorted group sat at a damaged table, shivering and sobbing. Nikki stared at a little man with a battered top hat, a big rabbit with quivering pink ears, and a small mouse that constantly twitched its whiskers. The trio clung to one other like survivors of a torpedoed vessel. And their mournful cries rang out through the damp forest air.

  “Looks like this party’s over,” Nikki remarked, as s
he surveyed the smoldering wreckage. She watched with fascination as a soldier, holding his own head under his arm, ran around in circles in the grass. And an ugly troll, apparently in shock, sat on the blackened earth tossing his three heads back and forth in dismay.

  Anton took in the scene with his cold blue eyes. He showed no emotion about the devastation he was witnessing. “There’s nothing we can do here. We have to push on.”

  Nikki nodded in agreement. They walked through the ashes, causing tiny puffs of grey smoke to rise into the air. In a few moments, they were swallowed up by the dense forest at the edge of the clearing.

  As they proceeded through the woods, Anton noticed the vegetation was noticeably different now. The brush was fast becoming more jungle-like. They stumbled and scrambled over foul-smelling muddy patches and through tangled vines.

  After an hour of hard going, they reached a river. The swollen water was crammed with floating twigs and debris as it surged downstream.

  Anton stopped at the river’s bank and reached inside his tunic. He pulled out the chip tracker.

  “I thought you dumped that in the bushes way back there,” Nikki said, surprised.

  Anton stared down at the device. “I thought better of it once I regained my senses. I’ve gotten it to work again.”

  Nikki grinned. “Great! Which way, boss?”

  He pointed. “I’m getting a signal. Faint, but distinct. North down this river.”

  The slippery mud and undergrowth along the river bank hampered their progress. They were sweating and panting after they’d gone only a few hundred yards along the bank. Nikki grabbed Anton by the sleeve.

  “Look up ahead. There’s a raft moored there.”

  They cautiously approached the crude raft. Nikki pulled her weapon, but Anton motioned for her to hold her fire. The next moment, a young freckle-faced boy in bib overalls and a tattered straw hat jumped out of the bushes. Anton smiled at the boy and walked toward him.

  “Is this fine raft yours, boy?” he asked.

  “Yes, sir. It is.”

  “What is your name, lad?”

 

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