Akiko in the Castle of Alia Rellapor (7 page)

 Chapter 13 

It was silent.
The room was still. But inside me the whole world seemed to be caving in, swallowing me up into a black fog.

Her son? Her
son
? How could Prince Froptoppit be Alia Rellapor’s son? It was impossible. Or was it? I felt so terribly dizzy all of a sudden, I didn’t know
what
to think. With what little energy I had left, I stared intently at Prince Froptoppit, hoping to see some sign that this was all a dirty trick, that Alia Rellapor was no more related to him than I was. But I saw no such sign. The Prince leaned toward Alia Rellapor, allowing her to pull him onto her lap. He dropped his head onto her shoulder and closed his eyes peacefully. There could be no doubt about it. Alia Rellapor
was
the Prince’s mother, and King Froptoppit—for
some
reason—had ordered Mr. Beeba and Spuckler not to tell me about it.

“So you see, Akiko,” Alia Rellapor said with a smile, “King Froptoppit has deceived you. The Prince is here where he belongs. If you don’t believe me, I invite you to return to your dear King and ask him to explain his lies to you. I’m sure he will have invented some very interesting explanations by now. . . .”

“But—” I began. Something had just occurred to me, something that didn’t fit.

“But what, dear child?”

“But if you’re the Prince’s mother,” I went on, “then why are you keeping him locked up in a dirty little room? Why aren’t you treating him better?”

For the first time Alia Rellapor’s peacefully smiling face went blank. She looked stunned and terribly confused. Her mouth opened but no words came out.

Throck let out a strange sort of cough, like a man who’d been underwater coming up for air. His eyes remained unwaveringly focused on Alia Rellapor, though.

“Maybe King Froptoppit hasn’t been completely truthful,” I continued, “but one thing’s for sure. He’d never keep the Prince locked up in a room like that. If you really
were
the Prince’s mother, you wouldn’t have to act like he’s a prisoner.”

“I will treat my son as I see fit!” she snapped, an angry frown sweeping over her face, her beautiful features suddenly not so beautiful anymore. The Prince’s eyes fluttered open. He tried to move, but Alia held him fast with one arm.

“Why . . . ,” I began, unsure of how she would react to another question.

Alia relaxed her face into a smile. Throck exhaled noisily through his breathing apparatus.

“Please, Akiko,” she said. “Ask me any question you like.”

“Why are you so angry at King Froptoppit?” I asked. “What did he do to make you want to hurt him so badly?”

Again Alia’s face went blank. This time, though, she regained her self-control quickly and answered my question in a calm, quiet voice.

“I cannot abide King Froptoppit,” she said, “because he is weak. He lacks the strength to run this planet

properly.”

Mr. Beeba’s face tightened indignantly, but he held his tongue. Spuckler squinted suspiciously at Alia, but he also remained silent.

“The people of Smoo need a strong hand to guide them,” she continued, her voice sounding harder, colder. “They need a ruler who won’t hesitate to use harsh discipline whenever necessary. Just as the Prince needs a mother who refuses to pamper him with luxury and doting servants. The people of Smoo,” she added, “need a ruler like
me
.”

I shot another glance at Throck. This time he pivoted his head to meet my gaze, a triumphant look in his eyes. A single droplet of sweat ran down his forehead and fell off his cheek. I swallowed hard and turned back to Alia Rellapor.

“Couldn’t you, um, talk this over with King Froptoppit?” I asked. “I’m sure he’d understand if you told him how you feel.”

“No!” she answered, raising her voice angrily. “I will not allow myself to be further contaminated by that cowardly little man!”

“But King Froptoppit’s not so bad,” I replied. “He—”

“Froptoppit is a fool!”
she bellowed.

Her voice echoed loudly around the room. Mr. Beeba leaped back, quivering pathetically in Spuckler’s shadow. Gax’s spindly little neck was extended as far as it would go, his mechanical eyes opened wide. Prince Froptoppit tensed but dared not move. Even Throck looked a little startled, but also pleased, as if he thoroughly approved of Alia’s performance. Only Poog remained unimpressed, his face as blank as it had been when we first entered the room.

“The King and his ilk will not survive, I tell you,” Alia continued, her voice trembling with anger, her pretty face twisted into an ugly scowl. “It is the natural order of things that weak rulers be cast aside by strong ones.”

There was a pause as Alia allowed the full implication of her words to sink in.

“So make your choice now, Akiko,” she added, staring into my eyes, “for when I seize power, I will show no mercy to Froptoppit and his deluded followers. I will uproot them like weeds, I will exterminate them like the pests they are!”

The gentle, kind Alia Rellapor of a moment before had utterly disappeared, replaced by a woman every bit as frightening as Throck himself.

“But—” I began.

“Enough!” Alia snapped. “I am weary of this fruitless conversation. You have trespassed upon my property. You have attempted to steal my son away from me. You must be punished.”

She turned to face Throck, who watched her every move with great concentration.

“Tell me, my friend,” Alia said, “what would you say to the idea of putting these intruders into the hole?”

“An excellent choice, Empress Rellapor,” Throck answered, sounding slightly winded.

“Very well, then,” Alia said. “Escort them there at once. We’ll see if they won’t reconsider their loyalty to old Froptoppit.”

A half dozen Torgs emerged from the shadows, encircling us like a snare. Spuckler looked as though he wanted to fight them but for once could see that this was a battle he could not win. Throck raised an arm, barked a few orders, and led us, Torgs and all, back out of the room.

I turned around and caught one last glimpse of the Prince as we left. He still sat there on Alia Rellapor’s lap, his face anxious, his body looking too tired to move. I wondered if it was the last I’d ever see of him. I certainly
hoped
it was the last I’d see of Alia Rellapor.

Before long we were being herded through a dark, damp corridor that felt like the passageway to a medieval dungeon. As we moved farther and farther into the blackness, I tried to make sense of some of the things I’d just seen and heard. It wasn’t easy. The thought that Alia Rellapor was the Prince’s mother was so devastating I didn’t want to face it, and the idea that King Froptoppit and Mr. Beeba and everybody had been lying to me was enough to make me sick. My head was spinning with so many questions, I didn’t know who was lying and who was telling the truth. Why did Alia Rellapor seem so nice at first and then turn so nasty? Did she really hate King Froptoppit simply because he was weak, or was that just some excuse? Why hadn’t Poog said anything on our behalf the way he had before?

As for the hole, well, I didn’t even want to
think
about what that might turn out to be.

 Chapter 14 

After we had
passed through the long, dark hallway, Throck led us into a huge round room. In the middle of the floor we saw a pit that must have been twenty feet wide. Above the pit, hanging from a sooty black chain, was a large iron cage with a single squarish door. On one side of the pit, a narrow stone platform jutted out to meet the bottom of the door to the cage. Throck stepped across the platform, opened the cage door with a loud, rattling screech, and walked back to where we stood at the edge of the hole.

“You!” he barked, grabbing Spuckler roughly by one arm. “Into the cage!”

Spuckler stood fast where he was.

“Make me,” he said through gritted teeth.

“With pleasure,” Throck answered, snapping his gigantic hand around Spuckler’s neck. Spuckler gave a muffled cry as Throck lifted him and carried him toward the pit like a fisherman lugging his latest catch. All at once he tossed Spuckler violently into the cage, which creaked and swayed with the added weight.

“Now,” Throck said, turning to face us. “I trust I can expect a bit more cooperation from the rest of you.”

“Absolutely, er, Mr. Throck, sir,” Mr. Beeba squeaked as he obediently trotted into the cage. “Come now, Akiko,” he called back to me as he sat down by Spuckler’s side. “We mustn’t keep Mr. Throck waiting. You can see he’s a very
busy
man.”

I shot Throck an angry glance as I followed Mr. Beeba into the cage. Staring down into the pit as I stepped across the platform, I shuddered at its depth. The bottom—if there
was
a bottom—was completely engulfed in blackness.

Gax followed me, rolling carefully over the gap between the cage and the edge of the platform. Only Poog remained, confronting Throck directly for the first time since they had “negotiated” outside the castle.

A tense, silent moment passed. I thought for sure Poog would say or do something to save us. But he simply stared at Throck. Finally, without a word, Poog floated over the platform and joined us inside the cage. Throck leaped forward and locked the door of the cage as quickly as he could. He seemed to breathe a sigh of relief.

“I told you you’d never leave this castle with the Prince,” said Throck. He turned and walked to a long iron lever on the wall. “Now it looks like you’ll never leave this castle
at all
.”

He reached up and swiftly pulled the lever all the way down. Immediately the cage dropped a few inches, stopped abruptly, then slowly continued to descend into the pit.

KUK-KUK-KUK-KUK-KUK-KUK-KUK-KUK-KUK-KUK . . . 

As the chain lowered the cage, there was a horrible rusty cranking sound, like the noise of a monstrous roller coaster carrying thrill seekers to the top of its highest hill. I caught one last glimpse of Throck as we dropped below the edge of the hole. He had his arms folded across his chest and was breathing very heavily. He looked strangely exhausted.

KUK-KUK-KUK-KUK . . . 

Down we went into the darkness. Before long there was so little light we could hardly see our hands in front of our faces. Still the cage kept going down . . . 

 . . . down . . . 

 
 . . . down . . . 

 
 
 . . . until finally we reached the bottom.

It was completely black. There was a loud scraping noise from the top of the cage, followed by a sound identical to the one that had accompanied our descent.

“He unhooked the chain,” I heard Spuckler say in the darkness. “He’s leavin’ us down here with no way t’ get back up.”

Mr. Beeba moaned.

“Hang on, everybody,” Spuckler said. “I’ll switch on Gax’s torch.”

K’CHAK-FRIIING!

There was a long pause. It was still very, very dark.

“Gax,” whispered Spuckler. “What’s the problem?”

“
THAT’S NOT MY TORCH, SIR
,” Gax answered apologetically. “
IT’S MY TOASTER OVEN
.”

“Hang on.”

K’CHAK-SPROING!

“
How about that?” Spuckler asked.

“
MY ELECTRIC SHOE POLISHER, SIR
,” Gax answered in the darkness.

“Hmpf!” Spuckler responded. “Remind me t’ have that removed.”

K’CHAK-FRAWWWWWWW!

There was a sudden flash of light as Spuckler switched on Gax’s torch.

“That’s more like it!” he said, grinning for what seemed like the first time in many hours. “Now at least we can see what we’re up against.”

The curved walls of the pit surrounded us just a yard or two beyond the iron bars of the cage. It was cold and—even with Gax’s torch burning its brightest—very dark. There was a faint dripping noise somewhere nearby, but otherwise it was silent.

“I wonder what they intend to do to us down here,” Mr. Beeba said, staring gloomily at the stone walls.

“I figure they aim t’ keep us down here till we starve to death,” Spuckler answered, sounding oddly upbeat about the idea.

“I sincerely doubt it, Spuckler,” Mr. Beeba answered. “Starvation is such a tedious form of execution. I expect these two will have come up with something a good bit more
dramatic.
”

I sat there with my knees pulled up against my chest, staring first at Spuckler, then at Mr. Beeba, then back at Spuckler again. I don’t know what happened at that moment, but something inside me—something way deep down inside me—something just snapped.

“You guys aren’t my friends,” I heard myself say, startled by the blunt sound of the words. “You guys aren’t my friends at
all
.”

“Why, Akiko—” Mr. Beeba began.

“If you
were
my friends,” I interrupted, “you

wouldn’t have lied to me about Alia Rellapor. You would have told me the truth way back when this mission started instead of treating me like some kind of dumb little kid!”

I was vaguely aware that tears were running down my face.

“’Kiko,” Spuckler said, stretching an arm out toward me.

“Don’t touch me!” I shouted, pulling back and rubbing the tears out of my eyes. Though my vision was blurry, I could see Poog staring at me with a look of great concern.

“And you’re no better!” I cried hoarsely, pointing a finger at a very astonished-looking Poog. “You’ve known what was going on this whole time, and you told me nothing.
Nothing!
”

“Akiko, you mustn’t speak to Poog this way,” Mr. Beeba said urgently, sounding genuinely alarmed.

“I don’t care!” I said, thrusting my face into my
folded arms. I wanted so badly to be back home, miles and miles away from this awful mess. . . . 

There was a very long pause. I could hear nothing but the tiny dripping sound and Gax’s torch occasionally sputtering as it burned. I kept my face covered with my arms, as if by not allowing myself to see anything I might somehow magically disappear.

“You’re right, ’Kiko,” said Spuckler finally, his voice so quiet it was almost a whisper. “Right about one thing, anyway. We shoulda told ya ’bout Alia. Orders or no orders. We shoulda told ya.”

“Yes,” Mr. Beeba agreed, sighing deeply. “King Froptoppit thought that the mission would seem less . . . well, less
complicated
if you weren’t told the truth about Alia.

“He was wrong about that, though,” he continued after a pause, “and so were we. I can only hope that you will find it in your heart to forgive us, Akiko. For we are sorry. Terribly, terribly sorry.”

There was another long pause as I sat there, taking all this in. Part of me wanted to just forgive them and forget about it. Another part of me, though, was still very angry.

“Less complicated?” I asked, sniffling.

Silence. Then:

“Yes, Akiko,” said Mr. Beeba. “The truth is, King Froptoppit and Alia Rellapor were once a very happy couple. Their marriage was the envy of the galaxy. When Prince Froptoppit was born, their joy only intensified. Smoo’s royal family was the picture of contentment.”

I raised my head to look at Mr. Beeba. He had a distant look in his eyes as he recalled those happier times.

“Then, strangely enough, Alia began to change. No one is quite sure why. She became bitter. Greedy. She began to berate King Froptoppit, making many of the claims you heard just a moment ago—that he was too weak. That a good king must dominate his subjects mercilessly. Needless to say, the changes in Alia began to put a strain upon their marriage. We all hoped it was just a passing phase, but it seemed only to get worse.

“One morning King Froptoppit awoke to find Alia gone. She left a note saying that she had gone off to build a castle of her own in the mountains, a dominion from which she would one day show us all the meaning of real power. For a time she had a large army of

devoted followers, but one by one they defected and fell away. She was simply too cruel to inspire loyalty for very long. I suppose this Throck fellow is the only one left on her side now. Throck and an army of robots.”

Beeba turned to look at me, the distant look in his eyes giving way to an expression of great seriousness.

“Then, less than a year ago, a small battalion of Alia’s robots descended on King Froptoppit’s palace. The good people of Smoo battled tirelessly in the King’s defense, but it was no use. At the end of the day the Prince was cornered in the palace gardens, captured, and taken off to Alia’s castle. King Froptoppit sent rescue party after rescue party, but to no avail. That’s when he turned to you, Akiko.”

I stared at Spuckler and Mr. Beeba, then at Gax and Poog. They were all looking at me anxiously, waiting to see how I’d react.

I suppose I should have been shocked or angry or something. Oddly enough, I was just relieved. Relieved to have finally heard the truth. A lot of it still didn’t make any sense to me, but at least I felt pretty sure I wasn’t being lied to anymore.

“Apology accepted,” I said.

Mr. Beeba and Spuckler both sighed their relief. Poog also looked very pleased, though not at all surprised.

“But let me make one thing clear,” I said, looking very sternly at Spuckler and Mr. Beeba. “I don’t ever want to catch you keeping secrets from me again. Do you understand me?
Never
.”

“I hear ya, ’Kiko,” Spuckler said. “Loud an’ clear.”