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The Omega Children - The Return of the Marauders - Book 1

Page 31

by Shane A. Mason


  Quixote looked up at him and then his cousins. He knocked on a single kneecap.

  ‘It feels like hard wood.’

  Master Phrenia pulled bits of barbed wire out of his pocket and threw them on the floor, standing with all his weight on them. After jumping up and down a few times, he lifted his boot, showing it had no underside. Despite the barbed wired, neither puncture wounds nor blood could be seen.

  ‘Do that one day and you’ll prove worthy enough to stand with the best of us.’

  Despite his ugliness and gruffness, Ari responded to his admonition feeling he could be that tough.

  Incensed, Lexington said, ‘How disgusting. What about the intellect, great books, literature, science ─ ’

  ‘SSSSSS,’ Aunty Gertrude hissed, making a throat cutting gesture. ‘My lord, I ─ ’

  Sah Task-Master Keen held his hand up.

  ‘Say no more. They will buckle under.’ He looked at the other discipliners. ‘Come, leave. Matron Gertrude, ready them for their first day.’

  They tossed their capes over their shoulders and walked out of the grand hall, the cousin’s watching after them, especially at the way Sah Task-Master Keen walked; spastic, like his legs were broken in many places.

  ‘Only few ever attain the rank Sah Task-Master,’ Aunty Gertrude said. ‘Despite falling to his near-death, he dragged himself back injured and he walked months later. Only the hardest dream of his sort of pain.’

  An air of admiration hung around Aunty Gertrude. After a few moments lost in thought she faced the cousins. A cruel victor’s wry smile spread across her face. She clapped her hands together, and the maid-servants came running, carrying grey cloth.

  ‘Put these on.’

  ‘And if we decide not to go?’ Melaleuca said.

  ‘Oh but you will,’ Aunty Gertrude replied with an uncomfortable ease. ‘How can you not? Aren’t you curious to see where your parents went?’

  Before they could answer, Aunty Gertrude rushed toward them, pushing through them, and sat, lady like, on the stairs. She patted the stairs beside her.

  ‘Sit.’

  They looked amongst each other, confused.

  ‘Come. Sit. Let me explain.’

  Lexington sat first with the others following. Aunty Gertrude reached out and semi-hugged them.

  ‘Our ways seem harsh, but we are the hardiest people on earth. None are tougher. You children are more special than you can ever imagine.’

  Melaleuca opened her mouth to speak, though Aunty Gertrude placed one of her bony fingers onto Melaleuca’s lips with an out of place gentleness.

  ‘Do be good children. Put the uniforms on. At the Vahn you will find answers to your questions.’

  A genuine smile exposed her yellow-stained teeth, and her mottled grey gums.

  Melaleuca stood.

  ‘I don’t trust you.’

  ‘Then you must flee, because they will come for you. They know you are here. It is an offence to not attend. Either that or be banished to the Southern Wasteland.’

  Melaleuca sensed her cousins thinking of the costumes.

  And if we use the costumes, you old crow.

  Melaleuca braved a smile at their Aunt. ‘We shall go to this Vahn, only to investigate.’

  ‘Good. Now put these on.’

  ‘They look like sacks,’ Lexington said.

  ‘They are your Vahn uniforms,’ she said and clapped her hands, laughing.

  Browny-gray and coarse, they looked like a sack with holes cut in it for the head and arms. The only one excited about wearing it was Quixote, who threw it over his head.

  ‘Take your clothes off first,’ Aunty Gertrude said.

  Quixote stripped down naked.

  ‘BUT LEAVE YOUR UNDERGARMENTS ON!’

  He put them back on and then hauled the sack-like uniform over top, dancing about laughing.

  The others put their uniforms on; discomfort showing on their faces. No matter where they moved it, or what they did, the sackcloth penetrated their undergarments and irritated their skin.

  Aunty Gertrude gloated at their discomfort.

  Lexington’s skin reddened more than the others. Scratching made it worse so she tried rubbing her skin with the ends of her fingers. She placed her head by Melaleuca’s ear. ‘We need the bracelets.’

  She walked up the stairs a few steps.

  ‘I must return to my room. I have for ─ ’

  ‘You are already late. It is time to go,’ Aunty Gertrude said.

  Pembrooke wandered in, saying, ‘The cart is ready, m’lady.’

  ‘Get them out of here. NOW!’

  The cousins trotted behind him, scratching. Aunty Gertrude called out, ‘Best not mention you are related to me or your Uncle.’

  Lexington whirled about.

  ‘What are you not telling us?’

  ‘All your questions will be answered at the Vahn.’

  ‘But we are not allowed to ask questions.’

  ‘Oh for heaven’s sake girl, use your brain, eyes and ears, look and listen. If anyone asks, I found you homeless wandering the street of a town.’

  Outside, Pemily stood before a small cart with two horses attached to it, waiting for them.

  ‘Do you suppose we have to spend the whole day in these?’ Ari asked scratching.

  ‘Hop aboard,’ Pemily called, dead-pan.

  ‘I say we grab the bracelets, the costumes and flee,’ Lexington said.

  Melaleuca screwed her face up with intense itching.

  ‘My decision is correct. We go.’

  ‘Let’s hope so,’ Lexington said.

  In the back of the cart, dry, scratchy, hay-dust lay littered about the deck. They climbed up, and headed off at a slow pace, trundling down the driveway, with flecks of hay lodging in their eyes, ears, noses and in their sack cloth.

  ‘If only we could go back and get the bracelets,’ Lexington said, breaking out in red blotches.

  ‘We’d need costumes too,’ Ari added

  He stood and grabbed the back of Pemily’s seat, and despite the swaying of the cart, yelled, ‘How about stopping so we can run back and get something we forgot.’

  Pemily cackled.

  ‘Not worth it. I would be flogged.’

  The wheel of the cart bounced over a small rock, sending hay flying into Ari’s face, making him cough and splutter.

  ‘At least stop so that we get rid of the hay!’

  Ignoring him she yelled, ‘Yeee haa!’ to the horses.

  ***

  From a warped, ground floor window, Aunty Gertrude watched the cart head away, satisfied; hoping the worst would befall them. She chuckled to herself. Her disgusting nieces and nephews would be like lambs slaughtered by ferocious bulls. Supremely confident they would not last the day, she turned to leave the window to resume her daily activities.

  From out of the darkness the Harbinger said, ‘What have you done?’

  Aunty Gertrude spun about facing him.

  ‘I suggest you remember where you belong. It’s no longer any business of yours.’

  ‘You witch. Where have they gone?’

  She turned back to the window.

  ‘Gone?.....They have gone to the Vahn.’

  ‘To the Vahn? They were supposed to stay here!’

  She spun back around.

  ‘Stay here!! Until what? Until they were discovered and this...’ She held her arms out indicating the building they stood in. ‘...this great house, the last remaining of the 24 great houses that once girdled this land, until they bring this house down, destroy it.’

  ‘Crone...I should ─ ’

  ‘I have the power to ─ ’

  ‘To witness and that’s all.’ The Harbinger held a fist to her and then dropped it. ‘This is not the last house. There is the house of Varkinell. Given to them is ─ ’

  ‘Are you mad as well as decrepit? You mean the tomb of Varkinell? Daquan Varkinell is a recluse, a madman; weak and frail. His great house cr
umbles around his ears.’

  ‘You have no idea what you are dealing with.’

  ‘Pray I do not turn you in. I suggest you address me correctly and be about your duties.’

  She stormed off in anger.

  The Harbinger shuffled to the window, peering through it. Lost in a haze of thoughts and fears, a feeling of powerlessness washed over him. All these years, all the careful plans they had laid down could be sunk in one day, all because of a woman with a heart of stone. His only strength lay in trusting that the cousins were ready.

  ***

  Ari motioned for the others to look at Quixote, who hung his head as far over the side of the cart and sang.

  ‘Are you not itchy Qui?’ Ari asked.

  ‘Yes. But I’m more excited about where we are going.’

  The girls smiled, their spirits lifted by his bravado.

  The cart came out of the oak forest and carried on speeding down the hill, the New Wakefield Valley spreading out before them. In the distance over the rows of hedges and patches of fields, and lazy spires of smoke, they could see the strange roof tops of a small town.

  ‘Hey look.’ Quixote laughed. ‘Someone’s watching us.’ He pointed to the sky.

  Looking up, they saw the faint outline of a young boy or girl’s face, blended into the whole sky. It appeared to be studying them.

  ‘Pemily,’ Melaleuca asked. ‘What is that in the sky?’

  Pemily looked and said, ‘I see nothing. Better not play silly games where you are going.’

  The face disappeared.

  Quixote prodded Lexington, ‘That’s one for you to work out.’

  She sighed. ‘Just add it to the list.’

  As they headed toward the town, a large building appeared out of nowhere, springing up in the direction of the town.

  ‘Look! Where’d it come from?’ Ari asked.

  Square shaped, almost black, and looking like night forever fell on it - it cast a pall of oppression over the land, like a shadow from an evil giant.

  ‘I don’t like the look of that,’ Lexington said.

  ‘It’s not what it appears,’ Melaleuca said, sensing danger and discovery.

  ‘Meaning?’

  ‘I don’t know.’

  ‘Oh. Well perhaps it’s the invisibility thing again,’ Lexington said. ‘The same mechanism must be at work? I wish I had a costume.’

  The dirt roads became a little wider and the trees and paddocks thinned out until they found themselves slowing to a trot. They could see the small township ahead of them. On the roofs of the houses and huts and small buildings sat over-sized, grey-black, metal paper-darts.

  ‘Small space ships,’ Quixote said. ‘Work that into a theory.’

  ‘That’s the Vahn,’ Pemily said, pointing at the large behemoth black building.

  Though it looked foreboding, Quixote said, ‘At least there will be others to play with.’

  It suddenly occurred to Melaleuca, that Quixote could present a big challenge. He had never been let loose before with other children, except for the borstal. At least this time, he had no costume or bracelet.

  ‘Stick close to me or Ari, Qui. We’ll see what they are like first.’

  As they entered the edge of the town, on the side of the road a man in tattered clothes was bent over. He ripped and tore at the vast array of colourful, wild flowers growing there.

  ‘What’s he doing?’ Quixote asked.

  ‘Tearing out the flowers,’ Pemily said.

  ‘Why?’

  ‘Flowers weaken people.’

  The man turned and snarled.

  ‘LOOK AWAY!!!’

  The horses slowed to a walk, moving through the town toward the large building. The dowdy houses had narrow windows and tiny doors, and were all coloured grey, brown, and black, a lifeless contrast to the wild flowers. No playgrounds, no slides, see-saws, bikes, balls or any such paraphernalia could be seen on any front yard; just grass and what looked like gallows and child and man sized hitching posts.

  As the large building loomed closer, it looked less rectangular and more circular. Instead of just black, the surface appeared reflective and metallic. By the time they had reached the southern end of the town they could see that it reared up from behind a curved stone wall and sat on an expansive flat lawn.

  Hundreds of children gathered on the lawn, some of them wearing sackcloth similar to the cousins. Rows and rows of them bent over, as older children clad in grey, ill-fitting shirts and trousers hit them in sickening unison.

  ‘What are they doing?’ Lexington asked.

  ‘Strengthening repentance,’ Pemily said, bringing the cart to a halt.

  ‘We are expected to do that?’

  Pemily remained silent, though an almost human look of compassion fell over her.

  ‘Time to get down,’ she said.

  Melaleuca’s gut feelings went haywire, and she questioned why her instincts had told her to come to this place.

  ‘Mel,’ Ari whispered. ‘I don’t like this.’

  I am right to trust myself, Melaleuca thought. This is just fear of the unknown.

  ‘Let us not let fear take grip. Stick together whatever happens. Do not let us be separated.’

  ‘Here’s where you get off, youngsters,’ Pemily said pointing to some open, tall iron gates.

  Through them they could see a gap in the Vahn. At least twelve stories high, the flat wall of the Vahn seemed made of an unearthly material. Black and shiny, it had a reflective look about it, yet it reflected nothing.

  Quixote stood up, waving at the children, though none saw him.

  A large horn sounded and like robots, the children from the lawn started filing in through the gate. A metal banner stretched over it. The words, ‘Penitence and suffering make you strong,’ were emblazoned across it in rusted metal, though the word “Penitence,” had been crossed out.

  Students trudged by, and soon, inside the gate, hundreds of them milled forward to where ever they were going.

  Quixote waved and waved and yelled to all the passing students. Like refugees trudging away from a war zone, scantily clad in basic clothing, they shuffled past. Scores of hollow-faced students looked at him blankly.

  One young boy and girl waved back, baring their teeth in a weak smile. Quixote hooted and hollered at them, stopping when he saw an older boy hit them in the head.

  ‘Now you must get off. I can go no further,’ Pemily said. ‘Pembrooke will pick you up on the outskirts of town.’

  They got out of the cart and she rode off.

  The cousins stood in the middle of the road looking both ways, daunted by the large number of students.

  Feeling Lexington’s nervousness, Melaleuca grabbed her hand. Ari followed her example and grabbed Quixote’s.

  ‘Stick together. We will be fine.’

  Several of the students, stared at them, whispering as they passed by, and an older boy, in his late teens approached the cousins. Close cropped hair, a face with two scars, tight fitting black clothes and a lesser looking Galeslar on his left arm; he leaned over them. His knees poked out of his trousers, and his feet protruded out from under his boots.

  ‘What do you think you are doing?’ he screamed at them, and then realised they were not who he thought they were.

  ‘Outsiders,’ he whispered. ‘Outsiders. So it is true.’

  ‘How do you do?’ Lexington asked, offering her hand. ‘My name is Lexington.’

  He looked at her lily-white hand, a rare sight in New Wakefield. Entranced, he stared at her pretty face.

  ‘Do what?’ he asked.

  ‘Do people not shake hands when they meet? I have read that it is so.’

  Still surprised, he took her hand as if it were the reigns of a horse. Against her skin Lexington could feel the rough calluses of his gnarled hand.

  A female and male adult, clad in grey gowns and wearing red tunics and black pants, strode out of the gate toward them.

  ‘Gregand, y
ou weak fool,’ Task-Master Quenlein said. ‘Let her hand go.’

  Gregand dropped it, hardening his glare, though his skin tinged red.

  Task-Master Quenlein slapped him hard on the back.

  ‘Anyone would think you have never seen a girl before. Leave them. I doubt they will survive a week.’

  He shoved Gregand back into the lines of children.

  The lady that strode behind Task-Master Quenlein stood there. Elegantly tall, despite the knee-less trousers, protruding toes and military uniform of red, she knelt down. She held their gaze as the cousins scratched their skin once again.

  ‘I am Harshon.’

  Like a dove in the middle of a battlefield, the smooth, silky white skin of her face showed no sign of hardship.

  ‘I am assigned to you. Please follow me. Try not scratch, it only makes it worse.’

  Harshon smiled at Melaleuca, showing off clean, white, almost perfect teeth. ‘It’s okay. Trust.’ She held out a hand.

  Quixote reached for it, grinning. She seemed motherly and he liked that.

  Melaleuca nodded to the others and they followed. Harshon hand in hand with Quixote went through the gates and into the Vahn.

  They passed through the gates dwarfed by the immensity of the Vahn and walked alongside the other shuffling students, who divided into two groups either side of them. The left group had limbs missing, patches of baldness, limps, bandages, even eyes missing, ashen grey skin, sunken in eyes and a general appearance of malaise.

  The right group seemed smarter - more ordered. The girls and boys looked stronger. Their clothes fitted better, and all their body parts seemed intact, though scant signs of injury showed on their faces. They wore black uniforms, and Galeslars decorated their left arms, while the left group wore sackcloth and grey clothes, though most had knee-less trousers and sole-less boots.

  ‘What happened to them?’ Lexington asked.

  ‘They did not do so well in their tests,’ Harshon replied in a cheery tone, hurrying between the buildings.

  Soon they stood on the inside of the Vahn. Four black, sleek buildings towered above them arranged in a circular pattern around a large amphitheatre sunk into the ground.

  The cousins pushed through the teeming students, and gazed across the amphitheatre from its edge. Deceptive light and hazy shadows made it look bottomless, and though the buildings on the far side could be seen, the distance across it seemed further than it appeared.

  With her head reeling from it, Lexington toppled forward, losing her footing. Ari pulled her back, despite feeling giddy as well. Melaleuca and Quixote moved back from the edge, though Quixote itched to climb down the steps and explore.

 

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