The Incredible Journey of Pete McGee (14 page)

Pete walked towards the oak, still searching for the Wilderene Flower. When he eventually saw it, he couldn't believe that it was what he had risked everything for. And yet it had to be. It was the only flower anywhere near the tree. It had a dark green stalk with thorns sticking out of it, and a dull yellow flower on top. As had been foretold in the Green Book, there was only one. It looked as though it would be one flower to rule, I mean to share between them all. And Pete didn't figure that King Cyril the I-Want-Everything-For-Myself would suddenly become a sharing, caring guy.

He noticed the three men staring at him. The King waved.

‘Go on boy, you can do it. King of the world!' he shouted. It looked as though the King wanted to see what happened to Pete before he risked anything himself. It wasn't a bad plan, Pete thought, even if it was a pretty cowardly one. Still, there was nothing to do now but to walk on. And so walk on he did.

Back at Pete's home Mrs McGee's body convulsed yet again. The coughing fits were so frequent now that there was barely a gap between where one finished and the next began. Ashlyn waited until there was a break of some sort, then held a damp cloth to Mrs McGee's forehead. Her hand brushed the skin and she pulled it away with a gasp. The skin was burning and clammy. Realising how she had recoiled, Ashlyn began to apologise, but Mrs McGee waved her away, the thin arm barely moving but still aching with the action. Ashlyn left the room with the excuse of getting more water and cloths, but once in the kitchen she leaned on the sink and closed her eyes. There was not much time. They needed that flower.

Pete McGee stopped barely twenty metres from the tree. He reached into his inside pocket and held Ashlyn's crystal for a moment. His heart warmed at the memory of Ashlyn and her love for Marloynne. He pledged silently that he would not fail her. Then he pulled his mother's note out and, although he knew it word for word, he read it through once more.

You are Sir Pete McGee, a noble and brave man, slayer of monsters and righter of wrongs. You are strong in so many ways. Believe in yourself, and the world will see just how great a man with one arm can be.

He placed the note back in his pocket and glanced at the tree. There was still no sign of Dazene.

azene sat in the branches of the great tree, invisible to those who desperately searched for him. He sat and he watched the arrival of four new threats to the Wilderene Flower. He had spotted them coming from a long way off, and had summed up their qualities. There was fear radiating from the group of three. Dazene breathed it in, feeling it, using it to fuel his energy. There was also much false bravado about the one dressed as a King. He was a mean man who would use others, but when the crunch came, Dazene knew that the King would fold. He relished the bravado almost as much as the fear. These three would not give a great deal of trouble.

The boy, however, standing so much closer to the tree, was intriguing. Although there was doubt, it was covered by courage and bravery beyond his years. He was here for reasons other than his own gain, and this gave him strength. Dazene would have to focus a lot of energy on this one.

Marloynne also watched the boy. He remembered him from earlier in the journey and wondered what one so young would gain by risking his life for the flower. Marloynne started as the boy looked straight at him.

Sir Pete McGee had seen Marloynne watching him. When he caught his eye he decided it was time to make contact.

‘For Ashlyn!' he cried, hand on his heart, before beginning to walk towards the tree.

‘For you Mum,' he whispered to himself.

King Cyril the Spectator, Faydon, and Marloynne watched the boy walk towards the tree, stepping warily but with a quiet confidence about him. Unlike earlier, the mention of Ashlyn's name had gotten through to Marloynne, who had attempted to move. He was held back by his ruler, who would not lose his sacrifice to help the boy. Then the three men saw a huge, lizard-like creature sliding down the tree. Despite its size, it moved like liquid, not even really seeming to move but then suddenly it would be somewhere new. It was totally in control, totally confident in its ability to defend the Wilderene Flower. As it got to the ground it changed before their eyes into a frail, weak woman that moved around the tree to confront this latest threat.

‘Mum?' Pete McGee couldn't believe his eyes. He knew that Dazene would confront him with his greatest fear, but how could that be his mother? She was his greatest support.

Mrs McGee jolted as if an electric shock had passed through her. Ashlyn grabbed her to hold her steady, but the shock had passed, and the body lay still. With an effort, Mrs McGee spoke.

‘Tell Pete I love him. Tell him I'm so proud.'

Mrs McGee shut her eyes tight, trying to hide from the pain, but she couldn't. It eased enough so that she could continue.

‘Tell him I'm glad he got the flower, even if I can't use it. Please tell him, Ashlyn.'

Before Ashlyn could answer, before she could ask Mrs McGee how she knew Pete had the flower, the tiny body tensed once again and then was still. Ashlyn stared in disbelief. This wasn't what was meant to happen. This wasn't the happy ending. Where was Pete? Mrs McGee was smiling, though. She had died a proud mother, and in death she looked more alive to Ashlyn than she ever had whilst living.

Dazene, in the form of Pete's mum, hobbled closer to the boy. It spoke in the voice Pete knew so well, but the tone was harsh.

‘You were wrong to come here, Pete. How could you leave me? How could you try to get some sort of glory, some sort of self-satisfaction? How could you be somewhere else when I died?'

Pete took a step back then steadied. His hand slid down his side to the dagger.

‘This isn't you, Mum. This is all a lie. I know you're not dead.'

‘Maybe not, Sir Pete, but maybe I am. You knew I didn't have much time left. You knew there was a chance that even if you got the flower you wouldn't get back in time. But you left me. You wouldn't stay with me even though I stayed with you. You were never going to get back in time and you knew it. I believed in you, I put everything I had into you, and this is how you repay me?'

Pete cried out as if he had been struck, Dazene's words seeping into his mind.

The King released his grip on Marloynne.

‘Go. Now. While the beast is distracted. Go and get me that flower.'

Marloynne spun around and faced the King. His mind clear, he realised why he had been brought on this journey. He was to be the sacrificial lamb. He couldn't believe he had been used so easily, that he had changed so easily. Turning away from the King in disgust he looked back at the boy. That was the one he should be working with. He turned to tell his King where to go, but before he got the words out King Cyril the Manipulator spoke sharply to him.

‘Go, or the slave girl will be killed on my return.'

The King's words propelled Marloynne forward. He broke into a jog and then, when he had almost reached the flower, Ashlyn walked from behind the Great Oak. Marloynne stopped short. He knew nothing of Dazene's abilities, and assumed that with the beast confronting the boy, this must truly be Ashlyn. Why had she not come out earlier? Marloynne cried out with joy and moved towards his lost love but she recoiled from him.

‘No. Stay away from me. You have changed since we parted. I have seen another side to you and it is not for me.'

‘Ashlyn, no, that was not me. It was Faydon's magic. I am myself again. I never forgot you. I have never forgotten us.'

Ashlyn stabbed an accusatory finger towards Marloynne.

‘Lies, Marloynne, all lies. The person you became was inside you all along, waiting to be released. How could you do this to me? I was yours forever. I could not live without you, you knew that. And still you betrayed me.'

‘Betrayed you?'

Ashlyn pulled out a dagger. Marloynne stopped mid-sentence with a gasp.

King Cyril the Sneaky sensed his chance and began to slide towards the flower. Faydon just stood there, watching, waiting. Suddenly, a short, sharp whistle split the still air. Then another, from a different direction. Another, and soon Faydon was surrounded by the noise. He cried out a command as he had done on the Plains of Obon. As on the plains the whistles increased in volume. Faydon's power was gone, and he panicked.