Lor Mandela - Destruction from Twins (42 page)

“Stop it! What do you think you are doing?”
Dallin’s familiar voice boomed. “Are you tryin’ to get yourself
killed?”

Maggie didn’t stop struggling, and Dallin
didn’t let go. “You stop,” she insisted. “Put me down!”

“You got it,” Dallin snipped, and pulled his
arm back let go.

Maggie almost fell over frontward. “What are
you doing here? Are you stalking me?” She turned around and gave
him a shove on his shoulders.

“Don’t flatter yourself!” Dallin retorted.
“I had a feeling you’d try something stupid! Goin’ into the Sybran
at night? You were walking right into the Shadow Bogs! What were
you thinkin’?”

“I am trying to find my dad! Do you think
some lame forest is gonna stop me? My dad’s life is at stake,” she
retorted. She was unbelievably grateful that Dallin had come, but
there was absolutely no way she was going to show it.

“Then let us try using our
brains, shall we? You can’t help your dad if you’re dead!” Dallin
snipped back. He was unbelievably grateful that Maggie was all
right, but there was absolutely no way
he
was going to show it.

“Fine!” Maggie flipped her hair indignantly.
“What did you have in mind?”

“We need a Shadow Dweller.” He dropped a
backpack from his shoulder to the ground. “I just hope I brought
enough.”

“Enough what?” Maggie watched as he
unfastened the loop at the top of the bag. “Wait," she exclaimed.
"A Shadow Dweller? One of those freaky, white-haired things? Like
that, um . . . Lortu?”

“Lortu?” Dallin chuckled nervously. “Yeah,
just like that Lortu. He would be a good one to have helping
us.”

“Why do we need one of them?”

Dallin explained, “Shadow Dwellers know
things. They see everything. They probably know where your father
is right now.”

“Really,” Maggie exclaimed excitedly, “well,
let’s find one then! Where do they live?”

“It’s not that easy.” He flipped open the
top flap of the pack, revealing what appeared to be softball-sized
diamonds.

“Whoa. What are those for?” Maggie leaned
down to get a better look.

Dallin flipped the bag shut again and
explained, “Payment. Dwellers only help if it profits them. They
are only loyal to . . . .”

“The best offer,” Maggie interrupted,
remembering that Lortu had told Ultara that she was his best
offer—when she offered to absolve his life debt if he brought her
Audril.

“Exactly,” Dallin continued, pulling the
backpack up to his shoulder. “Dwellers live in an area of the
Sybran known as the Shadow Bogs, just beyond those trees there.
They use these things to hypnotize their victims.”

“What? Their victims?” Maggie’s stomach
lurched.

“Yeah. These are grazixs. You look at one
long enough, you’ll walk right into a rynolt’s mouth if you’re told
to. The Dwellers love ‘em. They like to tease their prey before
they kill.” He signaled toward a rock outcropping and headed toward
it. Maggie stayed right on his heels. She was feeling more than a
little uncomfortable now after hearing about Shadow Dwellers.

“Ya ever been in a place
so dark that you can feel the weight of the darkness?” he asked
quietly. “That’s the Bogs. There’s no light at all. Ya can’t see
anything but black . . . cold, heavy, black. Dwellers and Squanki
are the only things that can see in there. You
do not
want to go into the Bogs at
night! Squanki are harmless, but Dwellers will catch you, hypnotize
you into doing whatever they feel like, and then kill you without
even thinkin’ about it.”

“Oh come on, you’ve gotta be kidding me!”
Maggie gulped, “Isn’t there anyone else who can help?”

“Relax! We’re safe as long as we have these
grazixs,” Dallin assured. “Just keep your eyes on the shadows.” He
set the pack on the rocks and slid down to the ground. He patted
the soft grass next to him, signaling for Maggie to take a seat.
Reluctantly, she sat down next to him and together they waited.

After several quiet moments, Maggie decided
to try to alleviate the awkward silence.

“So, do you mind if I ask you a personal
question?”

Dallin looked at her suspiciously. “Okay.
What?”

“Well, I was just wondering why you hate
Kahlie so much.”

He glanced down at the ground. “Hate
Kahlie?” he repeated. “I don’t hate her. She’s actually my only
friend.”

Maggie was surprised. “What? Then why did
you get so upset when I mentioned her name earlier?”

Dallin sat quietly for a moment. Maggie
thought perhaps she’d overstepped her bounds, but then he
explained, “When I was a kid, my parents both got sick and
died.”

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Maggie muttered.

“Yeah, well, at the time, it was horrible,
but I eventually learned how to be okay on my own.” He continued,
“Then, ‘bout a year ago, I lost someone else who I cared very much
about, actually, someone who looks an awful lot like you.”

“So, what does that have to do with Kahlie?”
Maggie pressed. She understood that he had to be talking about
Gracielle.

“I guess I lost it. I didn’t want to get
close to anyone ever again. I pushed Kahlie away. She was like my
sister, but I was afraid if I went on being her friend, something
bad would happen to her too!” He became agitated as he continued.
“Everyone I’ve ever cared about has been taken from me! My parents,
Atoc Jonathan, everyone!”

It intrigued Maggie that he wouldn’t mention
Gracielle’s name; he was obviously in love with her.

“When you said that you knew Kahlie, I just
assumed that she sent you to get me to come back to the
palace.”

“Because I look like Gracielle?” Maggie
tried.

Dallin’s eyes grew wide. “Oh, so you know
about Gracielle,” he sighed.

“Uh, not really. Just that I look like her.
If you don’t mind me asking, what happened to her?” she quickly
added, “You don’t have to tell me if you don’t want to.”

Dallin glanced down at the ground. “She was
killed at the battle,” he mumbled.

“I’m so sorry,” Maggie tried to comfort.
“That must’ve been so hard for you.”

Dallin just nodded in response.

“Listen Dallin, Kahlie didn’t send me . . .
nobody did. She doesn’t even know I’m here right now.” She paused,
and then asked, “Do I really look that much like her?”

Dallin looked deeply into her blue eyes, and
studied her face. A strange knot twisted and turned in the pit of
her stomach as he leaned a little closer. “Yeah,” he breathed
quietly, “you look just like her.”

Maggie quickly glanced away and locked her
gaze on the swinging branches of the trees. Suddenly, she spotted
something moving. “Uh, Dallin,” she started nervously, “I think we
have company.”

The silhouettes of the trees were waving and
rippling oddly. One at a time, Shadow Dwellers began to materialize
out of the shadows cast by the massive trees. Within seconds,
roughly thirty of them were standing at the edge of the forest. In
the center of the group was a familiar being.

“Lortu,” Maggie gasped.

Dallin looked at her and whispered, “Stay
close.”

“Wat ees dis?” Lortu oozed in his deep
rhythmic voice. “Whay do you deesturb the Shadow Dwellerz?

Maggie looked around at the group of
strange, unearthly creatures. Their wild hair waved and floated
around their heads. They all had light, glowing eyes and their
grayish skin was scantily covered by battered animal skins. The
scene was like something straight out of a fantasy movie.

Dallin bowed. “We bring an offering and ask
for your help, wise Lortu.”

“De girl?” Lortu looked directly at Maggie
like she was a trophy to be won. “Ees dis da famed Maggie
Baker?”

Maggie gasped.

“Yes,” Dallin replied, “she is looking for
her father.”

Lortu started laughing wildly, followed by
the rest of the Shadow Dwellers. “Aye am shooa she ees!” he rolled.
He waved his scrawny arm skyward and in a blinding instant, the
Shadow Dwellers surrounded Dallin and Maggie. They swooped around
them, disappearing and reappearing as they moved in and out of the
shadows. Where there had been perhaps thirty Shadow Dwellers
before, now there were hundreds—circling rapidly, in a creepy,
riotous frenzied blur.

“Dallin!” Maggie cried out, only to come
face to face with a wide-eyed, cackling Lortu. He tilted his head
back and forth, laughing, and held up Dallin’s back pack in front
of her. “We ees not needing heem anymore!”

“Hang on!” Dallin called back. She couldn’t
see him at all through the chaotic horde.

She made a grabbing motion
toward the bag, but both it and Lortu vanished; she caught a
glimpse of him again as he tossed the bag to another Dweller.
Suddenly, she felt something wrap around her legs, followed by the
unmistakable realization that she was being hoisted into the air.
“
Dallin!
” she
screamed wildly. She waved her fists frantically, hoping to make
contact with whatever had a hold of her—and make contact she did.
With a thud, her fist bashed into the bare back of the Shadow
Dweller holding her over its shoulder. From the maniacal laugh that
followed, she realized that it was Lortu. He hefted her a little
further on, like she weighed nothing at all, lowered his other
shoulder so that his arm was nearly touching the ground, and then,
followed by the entire multitude, took off in a breakneck gallop
toward the trees.

“Maggie!” Dallin yelled as he watched them
carry her off. He started running as fast as he could after them.
“Maggiiiieeee!”

She could see him chasing and watched in
horror as a small group of Dwellers stopped to restrain him. He
kicked and flailed his arms trying to break through them to get to
her. The last clear vision she had was Dallin hitting one of them
right in the face and then everything became pitch…black…dark.

They had entered the Bogs. The darkness was
just as Dallin had described—so overwhelming, so heavy and thick,
that Maggie found herself gasping for breath. Her heart pounded so
hard that it felt like it was trying to beat its way out of her
chest.

As they moved further into the heavy gloom,
she heard a silky smooth female voice. “Lortu, whay ees we not
taken heir to Ooltara?” They were moving extremely fast, yet the
voice didn’t falter in the slightest.

“De Trystas ees not maye best offer,” Lortu
replied, also with an eerily steady tone. “Aye ‘ave bettair plans
for ‘er!”

Lortu’s answer produced horrific thoughts of
being hypnotized, tortured, molested, and brutally murdered. She
felt like she was being held under water—thick, suffocating, black
water. Her lungs burned as she sputtered and panted, groping for
air. Finally, sheer terror, exacerbated by hyperventilation,
consumed her, and the darkness of the Bogs was replaced by the
darkness of total unconsciousness.

D
allin fought vigorously to break free from the Shadow
Dwellers. It was only after several minutes of hitting and kicking
that he realized, aside from one of them holding him by the arm,
they were not fighting back. Three other Dwellers were simply
standing off to the side of the meadow, watching him pummel their
companion. This caught him so off guard that he stopped for a
moment and just stared, bewildered at them.

“Eef yoah ah feenished,” one of the
observers began, “we ah tryeeng to ‘elp de Borlocs, and you ah
deelayeeng us.”

“Help the Borlocs,” Dallin replied
cynically, “by abducting an innocent bystander?”

The Dweller that had been holding on to him
stepped back and studied his face. He circled slowly around him and
explained, “Shee ees de atoha, Dallin Doone. Shee ees joust not
knowin’ eet yet.”

Dallin grimaced. Could it be? Could this
Dweller be right? Shadow Dwellers always seemed to know more than
anyone else and were rarely wrong. Was Maggie really Atoh Audril?
“How . . . how do you know?” he tried.

“Hair fotter, de atoc . . . he has
remembered.”

“What,” Dallin blurted, “her father? Atoc
Jonathan? He’s alive? You know where he is?”

“Yes, and he ees needin’ our ‘elp.”

Dallin’s heart sank. If Jonathan needed
help, it could only mean one thing. “Darian has him?”

Without a word, the other three Shadow
Dwellers raced off into the forest. The remaining Dweller looked
around and explained, “No, Dallin Doone, eet ees Ryannon. Ryannon
ees who has heem . . . and de zervahnt girl.”

“Ryannon?” Dallin’s confusion showed on his
face. “Darian’s son? Isn’t that almost the same thing?”

“No, eet ees not de same. Ryannon ees fah
worse den heez fotter. He ees de real enemy, Dallin Doone. He ees
plotting tings . . . very bad tings.”

“Like what? What bad things?”

“Maye friends ‘ave gone to save de atoc, but
eet ees de faya atoha dat he really wants. She ees de Child of
Bahlance, afta all.”

An expression of horror washed over Dallin’s
face. “Wh . . . what does he want with her?”

“He wants hair to zolve de Advantiere, so he
can rule all de Lor Mandela, and den he ees goin’ to destroy
hair.”

“Destroy her?” Dallin was panic-stricken.
“What? Where is she? Is she safe? Where did Lortu take her?”

“Lortu ees watching ovah hair, but she could
deesappeah at any moment.”

“Yeah,” Dallin shook his head and walked
toward the forest, “she could.” He seemed all at once quite
determined. “Lortu can’t stay with her if she transports. I know
receptors have no effect on Dwellers, but I can stay with her. I
can protect . . . .” his voice trailed off as he walked away.

Within a split second, the Shadow Dweller
was standing in front of him. “We moust go to de palace, Dallin
Doone. Lortu ees watching ovah hair,” he repeated. “Yoah fate lies
not by going to de atoha . . . Yoah fate lies at de palace.”