Paraworld Zero (45 page)

    Several streaks of white suddenly ran through Tonya’s hair. “Lord Theobolt
Vaylen?” she asked in fear. “We’re not in his castle, are we?”

    “Of course. Where did you think you were?”

    “I knew my father came here from time to time to do business, but I didn’t
realize he was working with the royal family.” She hunched her shoulders in disgrace. “And that
was Prince Rupert and Lady Margo! How could I have been so stupid? I didn’t even put two and two
together.”

    “Who’s Lord Vaylen?” asked Simon.

    “He could very well be the next High King,” she moaned. “And I just made
enemies with his children. My father’s gonna kill me!”

    “It might not be that bad,” Thomas McCray said reassuringly. “The twins are
inseparable—hooked at the hip since birth—but I think Lady Margo fancied Simon. She is the
stronger of the two. Perhaps she’ll put in a good word for you.”

    “I think I’m gonna be sick,” Tonya said. She eased herself into a sitting
position, put her head in her lap, and sobbed.

    “Tonya,” Thornapple said in a panicked voice, “what’s going on?”

    “I just ruined our chances of getting out of here,” she cried.

    “No, that’s not what I meant,” Thornapple said with a horrified expression.
“What’s happening to
you
?”

    Simon looked down and saw what Thornapple was referring to. The veins in
Tonya’s arms and legs bulged from her skin. She brought up her head and revealed strange green
patterns forming on her face. A grotesque design spidered out across her cheek and then ran down
her throat, disappearing into the neckline of her tunic.

    “I’m mutating!” Tonya screamed, looking down at her trembling hands. Har
knelt beside her and tried to offer comfort, but she shook so badly that nothing he did
helped.

    “Guards!” Thornapple yelled in his own tongue. “Guards!”

    “Oh, no,” Flimdore said, laughing. “Spoiled meat.”

    “Shut up!” Simon barked.

    Two guards entered the room with Lord Vaylen limping close behind. He
shielded his face with the hood of his dark cloak as he approached. “
Aiyee bookata
,” the ultramage said, snapping his fingers. The spell penetrated the
anti-magic dampening field and engulfed the Puds for a brief moment.

    “What seems to be the problem?” Lord Vaylen rasped.

    “Tonya, sick.” Har answered first.

    “How dreadful,” he said nonchalantly. “I’ll have my physician take a look at
her first thing tomorrow morning.”

    “But she’s dying—
now!
” Simon said with obvious defiance in his voice.

    “That’s not my concern,” he said sharply. “But the welfare of this planet is.
Tell me how you got to this paraworld undetected.”

    “We came from Pudo,” Simon said. “We didn’t even know for sure what world
this was.”

    “You lie! Pudo’s been a dead planet for over a thousand years.”

    “Not anymore,
pigface!
” Thornapple roared.

    “Insolence!” Theobolt growled between gritted teeth. A ball of electricity
formed in the palm of the ultramage’s hand, but before he could release it, the sirens on the
walls began to scream.

    “Lord Vaylen,” came a panicked voice from the intercom. “Someone has just
entered our paraworld, and the Raiders are attacking in response.”

    The dark wizard bared his teeth. “Fools!”

    He rushed to the exit, along with the guards, but Simon yelled after him,
“Hey, we need a doctor!”

    “Now’s not the time, boy.” Not even bothering to look back as he sealed the
door, the dark mage rasped, “She’ll just have to wait.”

Chapter 28
    

    

    The alarms blared, and red lights flashed from above. Shivering
uncontrollably, Tonya crossed her arms to stay warm.

    “Simon, get us out of here,” Thornapple yelled.

    Simon looked across the room at the cupboard protected by metal bars. He
could distinctly see his mother’s medallion hanging on a hook next to the rest of their
possessions.

    “I don’t know if I can,” he said.

    “Of course you can,” Thornapple cried.

    “I don’t know…”

    Tonya looked up in pain. Her yellow-green eyes cried out for help, and
Simon’s heart ached at seeing her frail body being tormented like this. What could he do?
Nothing. He wasn’t special. He didn’t have any powers. It all came from the medallion. Without
it, he was just a pathetic little boy pretending to be a man.

    Little Har stood up, placed his hand on Simon’s shoulder, and said with
conviction, “Si-moan can… Simon will.”

    For a moment, the boy panicked. The expectations placed upon him were too
great, and without the aid of his mother’s medallion… Suddenly, a strange vigor coursed through
his veins, giving him a measure of peace. The memory of his first encounter with the strange
woman from his dreams flashed in his mind.

    

    

    Maybe the source of his unique abilities didn’t come from the pendant, after
all. Perhaps his magical powers actually did come from deep within himself.

    Nervous, Simon pulled the wand out of his shirt and tapped the bars—just like
Tonya had done before.

    “
Amnasee!
”

    “Not
Amnasee
,” Tonya mumbled. “
Annn-masee.
”

    Simon was about to cast the spell again when he realized the bars were
starting to glow red. One by one, the bars melted into molten pools of liquid metal.
Unfortunately, the spell continued to spread across the room until all the criminals were
freed.

    “
Oops,
” Simon said. He watched the prisoners run around the dungeon in chaos. The flashing
red lights heightened the anxiety in the room.

    “Thomas,” Tonya called out weakly, “how do we get out of here?”

    “If you can get past the door, make an immediate right. Go down the hallway
until it ends. Then turn left. On the third door to the right, you’ll find the hangar bay.”

    “Isn’t there one of those paratransceiver things we could use?” asked
Thornapple.

    “You’d never make it,” the butler responded. “It’s heavily guarded and can
only be activated by an authorized voice imprint.”

    “Thanks for your help,” Tonya said, faltering.

    “Why don’t you come with us?” Simon asked.

    “No,” the old man replied, sitting down on his bed. “This is my home. Perhaps
the master will see my loyalty and reinstate me to my old position.”

    “Well, good luck,” Simon said. “And thanks.”

    The teenagers rushed to the melted cupboard and gathered their possessions.
Simon put Holo in his pocket and his mother’s medallion around his neck. He eyed the still figure
wrapped in bandages a few yards away. The poor man on the gurney was staring right at him. With
compassion in his heart, mixed with a bit of curiosity, Simon approached the stranger.

    “What are you doing?” asked Thorn. “We’ve got to get out of here!”

    “We need to help him,” Simon replied.

    Har pulled Tonya to her feet while Simon removed the cords and electrodes
from the stranger’s bare chest.

    “He’s being drugged,” Thorn said, examining the breathing apparatus. Simon
removed the equipment from the man’s face so he could breathe some clean air. Within seconds, a
spark of life ignited in the stranger’s honey-brown eyes.

    Tonya limped towards her friends but was suddenly grabbed from behind.

    The cold voice of Flimdore ran down her spine as he cackled in her ear, “You
have such pretty hair, missy. I bet it’s
very
sweet.”

    Simon looked up in horror to see the ugly man holding Tonya’s head back in an
awkward position. He clutched her throat with one hand and caressed her pale, mutating face with
the other.

    A rush of fierce anger swept through the young wizard like a firecracker. He
brought up the wand but paused as Flimdore crouched behind Tonya’s thin body.

    “I just want a taste,” he said, laughing insanely.

    Just then, the man lying on the gurney raised his hand like a whip. Flimdore
screamed in pain and fell to the floor. He squirmed around in circles, clenching his fists and
closing his eyes as he moved.

    With his hand still outstretched, the strange wizard got off the gurney and
walked towards the man thrashing on the floor. His victim screamed even more loudly. Then, when
it looked like the attack would never cease, Tonya put her hand on the wizard’s arm and lowered
it. The screaming turned into a muffled whimper as her assailant slithered away to a dark corner
of the dungeon.

    Simon rushed to Tonya’s side, and she embraced him. With tears trickling down
his leathery cheeks, Little Har put his arms around them both.

    “Who are you?” Thornapple asked, dumbfounded at the man’s quick
recovery.

    The stranger’s eyes wandered around as he thought about the question. He
studied his callused hands. They were the hands of a warrior. “I—I don’t know.”

    “Thanks,” Simon said, wiping a tear from Tonya’s face. “I’m Simon
Kent.”

    The stranger didn’t respond. Instead, he became curious with a group of men
and women huddled around a glowing sword that had fallen out of the cupboard. Every time one of
the criminals touched the hilt, he or she would get shocked.

    “That’s mine,” the warrior announced, stooping down and picking up the
displacement sword. His memories were slowly coming back.

    Simon tried to cast the Open spell on the exit, but it didn’t work.

    “You must have knocked out the E.M. absorption device,” Tonya whispered.
“Here, let me try.”

    “You can’t open it with magic,” Thomas informed them. “Lord Vaylen has cursed
the door.”

    “We don’t need magic to get out of here,” the warrior said as he thrust his
displacement sword into the thick hinges of the door. With a quick adjustment to the settings,
the mass index of the blade increased to the point where the hinges finally snapped off the
frame.

    “Cool!” Thornapple exclaimed.

    As the massive door fell over, the ceiling shook—not because of the fallen
door but because of the weapons fire outside.

    “We’re under attack,” Thomas cried out. “Hurry! Get to the hangar bay.”

    The party took an immediate right and sprinted down the empty corridor. The
rest of the prisoners—Thomas included—rushed through the broken doorway and ran in various
directions.

    

    

    When the dungeon was finally empty, a mysterious figure appeared out of
nowhere. With strange curiosity, the dark wizard admired the puddles of liquefied metal Simon had
created. After satisfying his interest in the destruction, he walked down the corridor where
Simon’s party had fled. The tapping of soldiers’ boots echoed from the adjoining hallway, but
when the soldiers rounded the corner, the mysterious figure was gone.

    

    

    Har now carried Tonya in his arms because of her depleted energy. The party
had been fortunate, thus far, not to come across any soldiers as they ran. Of course, the
criminals were a huge distraction: flooding the corridors, attacking everyone they encountered.
The rumbling outside continued, but the loud sirens inside tapered off, leaving the flashing
lights as a reminder that the castle was still under attack.

    As if coming to the realization for the first time, the swordsman suddenly
announced, “My name is Griffin Lasher… I’m an ambassador of the Crown.”

    “Well, Mr. Lasher, you sure do recover quickly,” Thornapple said.

    “I’m a fast healer,” Griffin responded. As the small group turned left, their
newfound friend slashed his peculiar sword through two unsuspecting guards.

    Simon couldn’t stop gazing at the huge pictures that lined the hallway. He
gradually fell behind. A quick glance at the first open door showed him an expansive dining room
filled with fancy tables and plush-covered chairs. He couldn’t help but imagine the fantastic
parties that must have taken place in that room—parties that, perhaps, took place at a happier
time.