Lor Mandela - Destruction from Twins, page 25
When Maggie looked back, all she could see behind them was a wall of wispy, swinging, green branches.
They moved on, past the mysterious trees, and down a narrow path. Lacy, exotic-looking orange, yellow and chartreuse green bushes and more odd rock formations lined the sides of the path. The bushes shook and rustled as small furry animals, unlike any Maggie had seen before, darted and scurried around and in and out of them. Pure white bird-type creatures floated overhead. They were so bright white that it was difficult for Maggie to look at them against the vivid blue backdrop of the sky without squinting. As they walked deeper into the forest, the path took a sudden sharp turn and opened into another spacious field.
“Wait! Kahlie!” Maggie burst out suddenly, “I’ve been here before!” She looked up at the pale green fog that hung in the air above their heads. “This is the field I came to this morning—when I was at school!”
“What?” Kahlie looked shocked. “No . . . there’s no way.”
“No way, what?”
“I think I saw you here! I thought you were Gracielle. You look just like her!”
“Grass!” Maggie exclaimed. “Ohhhh, you were calling me Grass . . . or, I guess, Grac . . . ielle? Who's Gracielle?”
Suddenly, there was a loud, abrupt whoosh and a crackling flash of blue light, and Maggie landed with abrupt bump that knocked her to the ground. She heard a commotion of some sort behind her and then felt an arm wrap around her and someone lift her to her feet.
“Hey! What's the big idea? Let go of . . . .” She stopped short when she spun around and realized that it was the handsome, mysterious guy from the creepy field.
He smiled and looked Maggie directly in the eyes. She attempted to smile back, but found herself quite paralyzed by his hypnotic stare. He lowered to his knee, all the while maintaining eye contact and a playful smile.
“Good afternoon, Your Highness.” He finally broke his gaze as he reverently bowed his head. “I was hoping we'd meet again. How are you? Recovered from the rynolt attack last evening?”
“Um, uh-huh. I . . . uh just . . .” Maggie stammered. “Please . . . um . . . stand?” For someone who usually was at no loss for words, whenever she was in this man’s presence, she found herself with absolutely no idea what to say.
The young man rose to his feet and eyed Maggie's ensemble.
She gasped and dropped her head into her hands in disgust. “Oh, my gosh! I don’t normally . . . I mean . . . I was getting ready for bed and . . . .” She sighed and tried to straighten her slightly twisted polka-dotted pajamas.
The stranger chuckled and placed his hand on her shoulder. “Don't worry, Highness. You look lovely.”
Maggie felt herself blush violently. “Yeah, right,” she mumbled, looking down at her feet.
The stranger gently lifted her chin and smiled again. “Yes . . . you do,” he insisted.
“Wh . . . who are you?” Maggie pleaded, not knowing what else to say.
“My name is Ryannon,” he stepped back a bit in case he was making Maggie uncomfortable. He bowed slightly and added, “and if you’ll excuse me, Highness, who are you?”
“I'm Maggie . . . Maggie Baker. Do you think I am a Borloc too?”
Ryannon nodded, “Well, of course, aren't you?”
Finally! Someone who listened. “No! I'm just a normal girl.”
Ryannon's amazing smile returned, “I wouldn't say just normal.”
Maggie gulped. Was it possible that this absolutely perfect man was flirting with her?
Ryannon motioned toward a large rock formation indicating that they should sit down. She fussed with her pajamas again and moved towards the rock.
“Have you figured it out yet?” Ryannon asked, politely waiting for Maggie to sit before taking a seat himself.
“Figured what out?” she asked.
“Why you're here?” Maggie must have looked faint, because Ryannon reached out like he was preparing to catch her.
“Whatta you mean,” she started. “You know what's going on with me?”
“Ahhhh,” Ryannon answered, “so you haven't figured it out.” He flicked a small pebble off the rock next to him. “I owe you an apology. Well actually, my parents owe you an apology, though I doubt you'll get it. This is all their fault.” He grimaced and then added, “Of course, I thought you'd at least be a Borloc. What were they thinking?”
“Your parents?” Maggie quizzed.
“And their respective bands of lackeys,” Ryannon looked slightly disgusted.
“What? What do you mean?”
Ryannon explained, “For some reason, my mother thinks you are the atoh, so she sent her army to put receptors on you. A couple of my father's spies saw them going and honed in. They took my receptors.”
Maggie sensed, as Ryannon spoke, that he wasn't a huge fan of either of his parents.
“See, my mother and my father loathe each other. They're always at each other's throats! Anyway, the Trystas supposedly placed one of her receptors on you, and my father's little puppets placed one of mine.”
Maggie stared at him blankly.
He chuckled and guessed, “You have no idea what I'm talking about, do you?”
“No . . . no idea at all,” she whispered. “What's a receptor? And why do your . . . Wait! They put something on me?” She wasn't whispering anymore. In fact, she was speaking very loudly and feeling rather mortified that a strange army of alien spies had put some sort of object on her without her knowing about it. She searched her arms frantically for any sign of a foreign object.
“It's okay, Maggie,” he assured, “they're not dangerous. They were invented to bring Travelers back to Lor Mandela in difficult situations.”
His explanation did little to calm Maggie, who felt violated. “It's not okay, Ryannon! I feel like I was just abducted by aliens!” She bolted up off the rock, and paced wildly, flinging her arms in the air and yelling. “I was! I was! That's what this is, isn’t it! And you . . . you probably don't even look like that! You probably just made yourself gorgeous so I'd feel all relaxed and like you!”
Ryannon jumped up and followed after her. He caught up to her and grabbed her from behind by the shoulders. She spun around and his arms wrapped completely around her. Suddenly, she was very silent.
Ryannon held her close, looked at her with his black and red sparkling eyes, and whispered, “Everything will be fine. I will make sure. Just leave it to me.”
Then, he did something completely unexpected. He blushed! “Wait! You think I'm gorgeous?” He stumbled back and stared down at his feet.
There was a long awkward silence before he spoke again. “Listen, Maggie. My mother thinks you are the Child of Balance . . . the one and only person who can restore Lor Mandela. ”
“Restore it? It's a planet. What's there to restore?” She slipped back down on the rock formation.
“You're kidding, right,” he mused, pointing toward the creepy, dead forest behind him.
Maggie realized that this was exactly where she had met Ryannon before, when she had almost been eaten by the two-headed thing. Just the thought of it sent a chill shivering down her spine. “So, this place didn't always look like this?”
“No,” Ryannon explained, “about six years ago, my grandmother did some kind of messed up spell and corrupted Lor Mandela. Apparently, only the Child of Balance can fix it.” He came over and sat down next to her. “For some reason, Ultara—my mother and ruler of the Trystas—thinks you are her.”
“That's ridiculous,” Maggie insisted. “I'm not!”
“I know,” Ryannon assured, “but she's going to be looking for you.”
“Looking for me? Why?” Maggie asked uncomfortably.
“I'm not sure,” Ryannon sighed. “I've never really met her. My father took me from her at birth so that I wasn't put to death.”
“What,” she blurted. “What kind of a place is this? People who think they can abduct other people and mothers who kill their own children? Get me out of here!”
Ryannon placed his hand reassuringly on her shoulder. “Listen, Maggie . . . you need to know . . . Ultara isn't the only one you have to worry about!”
A sick emptiness twisted through Maggie's insides. She didn't know what Ryannon was going to say next, but it obviously wasn't going to be good news.
“My father, Darian, has always wanted to take over Lor Mandela. He is going to use you as a distraction while he tracks down the real Child of Balance. After he finds her, you'll only be in the way.”
“WHAT,” Maggie yelped, jumping up from the rock again. “You're kidding me! Get me out of here, Ryannon! You've got to get me out of here! Your mother and your father are both insane! They can’t just use people like this!”
Ryannon jumped up too and tried to console her by putting his hands back on her shoulders. This time, Maggie ducked away from him. She didn't want to be consoled; she wanted to go home! She marched quickly across the field, away from Ryannon.
“Maggie! I will help you however I can! I promise,” he called after her, “but you have to make sure they don't get receptors onto your father!”
Maggie froze in place and then slowly turned to face him. “My dad,” she questioned. “What are you talking about?”
Ryannon answered as he walked toward her, “I can protect you, Maggie. My father has ordered his people not to harm you, so I just have to keep you away from him. But your father . . .” he took a deep breath.
“What? What about him, Ryannon?” she barked.
He sighed and continued, “Almost half a million soldiers have been ordered to kill him on sight.”
CHAPTER XXIX
FRIENDS DON’T LIE
Nathan sat at the kitchen table in a daze, cell phone in hand, numbly dialing every one of Maggie's friends he could think of.
“Hello . . . Charlotte? This is Nathan Baker. Have you seen Maggie? Okay . . . thanks.”
He pushed another set of buttons.
“Hello . . . Lorrine? This is Nathan Baker. Have you seen Maggie? Okay . . . thanks.”
Still staring blankly ahead, he pushed yet another set of buttons.
“Hello . . . Emily? This is . . . .”
Just then, there was a loud crack, followed by a brilliant blue flash, and quite suddenly Maggie appeared—from out of nowhere—across the table from him.
Startled, he sprang to his feet and stumbled backwards into the refrigerator, dropping his phone to the floor.
“Hello . . . Hellooo . . . Mr. Baker? Are you there?” A muffled voice emanated from the upside down phone.
Maggie hesitated just long enough to get her bearings, then walked over, picked up the phone and hung up on Emily without saying a word. Her dad was frozen in place, and looking at her like he'd just seen a ghost.
“Dad?” She waved her hand in front of Nathan’s eyes. “Dad, it's me . . . I'm back. Are you all right?”
Nathan’s hair was sticking up all over the place and his eyes were practically bulging out of the sockets. He very calmly began, “You were right there and you just . . . you just . . . .”
“I know,” she interrupted softly.
“Young Lady,” he bellowed, “I absolutely forbid you to disappear ever again! I am a nice father . . . very few rules . . . but this?” He collapsed back onto one of their mismatched dining chairs, and ran his hand through his messy hair. “I just don’t . . . I can’t . . . I . . . What am I supposed to . . . disappearing? Three and a half hours. Three and a half!” He buried his face in his hands, and continued ranting nonsensically, his voice muffled, and his hair flipping back and forth as he shook his head.
Maggie sat down on a chair next to him and touched him gingerly on the shoulder. “Dad, I tried to tell you. It's that whooshing noise.”
Nathan raised his head and stared blankly at her.
“Dad, please,” she begged. “Something weird is happening to me.”
He responded as though he hadn't heard a word. “I can't believe you would do this to me Maggie. It's just not funny.”
“What,” she roared. “What do you mean?” She couldn't believe that he was acting like the victim. “I did not do this on purpose, dad! This isn't some sort of joke!” She slapped the top of the table angrily. “What do you think? That I've taken up magic just to freak you out?”
“Okay, fine,” he retorted, his voice escalating to match hers. “Well then, where have you been? People just don't disappear, Maggie! They just don’t!”
“If you must know,” she blurted, jumping to her feet, “I've been to Lor Mandela, Dad! It's another planet! Do you hear me? I keep going to this other place! Another world . . . Lor Mandela!” She was tired, and scared, and quite sick of trying to explain. She was so angry that if she stayed any longer, she knew she was either going to say something very mean, or burst into tears. “I'm going to bed,” she shrieked with a stomp, and stormed out of the kitchen and up the stairs.
Nathan jumped up from his chair, practically knocking it over. “Hold it just a second,” he shouted as Maggie sprinted across the living room. “This isn't over young lady! Get back here!” Maggie didn't hesitate in the slightest. She ran up the stairs, skipping every other step and sped down the hall to her room; she slammed the door shut with a violent bang that shook the walls and made Nathan flinch.
He took a deep breath and started up the stairs. Despite his efforts to remain calm, he could feel anger and frustration building like a bomb inside him, just waiting to explode. By the time he reached the bedroom door and grabbed the knob, his blood was boiling. He was just about to rip the door clean off its hinges, when he heard Maggie sobbing on the other side of it.
Slowly, he backed away. He hated to hear her cry. As he stood there, staring at the crystal doorknob, listening to his daughter's sobs, his anger began to subside. Still, for the life of him, he couldn't understand what she was up to and why she was making up these wild stories; but at least for now, he decided that it would probably be in the best interest of them both to wait until morning to pursue the matter any further.
Maggie threw herself onto her bed, blubbering uncontrollably. It had not been her intention to get into a fight with her dad. She'd just wanted him to believe her, but that wasn’t the only reason she was upset. It was Ryannon's last comment that left her completely terrified. His father—and an entire army—were looking for her dad, just waiting to kill him; that they were safely on Earth at the moment did little to calm her. Ryannon's parents had been able to get her to Lor Mandela. It was only a matter of time before they would be able to get her father there too. And then what? She couldn't bear the thought of losing him. He was more than just her dad, he was her entire world—the only family she knew. She lay there, sobbing and panic stricken, for nearly two hours before exhaustion finally took over and pulled her down into a heavy, dreamless sleep.
At 6:05, the alarm blasted. She bolted upright and hit the switch to “off” rather than pushing the snooze button. She rubbed her eyes—which were burning and puffy from crying—dressed quickly and hurried toward Nathan's bedroom. Part of her didn't want to face him after the previous night's argument, but she needed to check on him and make sure he was safe. She cracked his door open just a little, and peered in. A twinge of terror swept through her at the sight of his bed, which appeared to have not been slept in. She opened the door further, and stuck her head around it to see if his bathroom light was on. It was dark. Quickly, she turned on her heels and darted down the hall. “Dad,” she called out nervously. “Dad!” She was half-way down the stairs when she crashed into him hard, nearly knocking both of them down.
Nathan grabbed her around the shoulders. “Whoa, where ya goin', Speedy?”
She threw her arms around him and squeezed.
“Good Morning?” he questioned, wondering to what he owed this outpouring of affection. “You're up early.”
Maggie finally let go. “Dad,” she began, “I'm sorry. I didn’t . . . .”
“Shh . . . it's okay, Smaggs,” Nathan soothed, “I mean, we wouldn't be a normal dad-slash-teenage daughter if we didn't have a tiff now and then, would we? I think we were both jus' tired and cranky, that's all. What say we try to have a better day today, eh? We can talk about all this magic and other world stuff later, okay?”
Maggie grimaced at him. An, “I believe you,” or “I should have listened” would have been nice—especially after she had disappeared and reappeared in front of him—but at least he wasn't yelling, or rehashing the whole episode, which he did have the tendency to do from time to time, so she decided, that at least for now, she would take what she could get and concentrate her energies on keeping her dad away from Lor Mandela. “Okay, I’ll try,” she finally agreed.
The two of them readied for their day, and headed off in the usual manner—Nathan driving her to school, dropping her off just outside the big brown double doors, and then speeding off toward the Old Downtown district of Glenhill in his rusty sedan with the noisy, dented door.
Maggie watched from the school steps as he drove away and muttered a quiet, “keep him safe,” into the air. She turned and started up the steps but didn't get far before something she saw stopped her cold in her tracks. It was Bridgette and Holden who were locked in a smoldering, passionate, “oblivious to the world around them” make out session, just outside the school doors.
“Hey! What are you trying to do,” she shouted racing toward them. “Get expelled?” She grabbed Bridgette by the shoulders and yanked. “Yikes you two!”
Of course, it wasn't her concern over her best friend being reprimanded by school authorities that motivated her to act; it was complete shock and disbelief that Bridgette seemed to be flinging herself at this stranger-than-strange, well, stranger.
“What are you doing?” Bridgette snapped, spinning around and facing Maggie all out of breath and flushed. “Maggie! What’s wrong with you?”
Holden chuckled. “Hey Blue! Welcome to beautiful Glenhill High.”
Maggie shot him a look of disdain.
Holden smiled his dorky smile, flipped his long blonde locks, and quipped, “Oh, ho, I get it!” He continued in a hushed tone. “You ladies need to C-O-municate.”
