Authors: Scott Spotson
Gotta take risks
, she thought. Besides, she’d remembered that usually the barrels were more ‘friendly’ during the early moments of the game, then grew more aggressive the longer she dared to challenge with her continued presence. Agilely, she climbed the middle ladder as fast as she could, desperate to catch her first glimpse of the third level.
Peering through the opening, her nerves became shot as she saw another barrel heading down her way.
Get up! Now!
She scrambled to her feet, and then with no time to accumulate speed, she jumped straight up. Mercifully, she jumped over it successfully.
Third level. She knew this would be the point where, after defying the game this far, Donkey Kong would be unleashing more of his fury toward her. Indeed, she could now faintly hear the roars and chest-thumping of the most famous electronic ape in history.
If that was him
.
She ran to the end of the ramp, and heard a very loud signal directly above her head – a barrel was whirling into the same direction she was heading. It was still behind her. Quick, to the “retreat” space that afforded only a few precious seconds of extra time. She whizzed past the ladder, panting with exhaustion. Listening acutely, she realized that the barrel had chosen
not
to scoot down the ladder she had just passed, but would roll a little further, then fall off the drop zone at the end of the upper ramp. That meant only one thing. It was about to drop right beside her! Panicking, she climbed the ladder, now seeing the cylinder of flames soar – as if frozen in motion – through the air, just a few feet away. After landing and bouncing off the end wall, the barrel rolled backwards, straight at her. She pulled up her feet on the ladder just in time, as the fiery object cruised past below her.
Fourth level now. This one, then two more to go!
The heat rose up through the contraption, becoming more oppressive by the minute. She visualized all the barrels crashing at the bottom, releasing yet more oil to a rapidly rising reservoir, with vengeful flames eating into the energy within, causing the mercury to rise dangerously. She sweated profusely. She had soot on her hair, her face, her arms, and her dress. The black, rancid smoke was thickening, making it harder for her to see.
She choked as she realized her energy was almost all spent; she might not be able to make it to the top. She was going to die here, in this fiery hell house. Mustering her courage, she started running again.
She almost halted. Two barrels, side by side, rolled straight at her. Her eyes widened in stricken fear. There was no way she had the strength to jump over both at the same time. As her body recoiled at the challenge, she tumbled and fell, scraping her elbows. The pair of wooden kegs menacingly advanced on her, sparks shooting out…
Utterly devastated and defeated, Amanda pushed herself up on her arms, still lying on the sizzling ramp. Distressed, she extended her arm toward the spinning casks of doom. “No!”
A huge explosion, where the two spinning barrels once advanced, broke out. Shielding her face from the pent-up release of fire and heat, she gasped.
How did that happen?
With no time to analyze, Amanda hastened her recovery and started her mad dash once more. She gingerly stepped over the trail of flaming debris of smashed wood and twisted metal. Climbing up another level, she was eager to test her new-found power. Fifth level now. So close. One more, and that was it.
Two more barrels sped toward her, still comfortable off in the distance.
“I can do this,” Amanda said to no one.
Extending her hand out and closing her eyes to focus on the flaming objects in her mind, Amanda grunted. The two barrels exploded!
“Whee!” Amanda hollered.
Careful to dart through the spreading oil and flames, Amanda climbed to her last challenging level, the last where the barrels still rolled. It was to be the one where the mighty Donkey Kong stood, stamping his feet and pounding his chest. Above it was to be a very short platform where the damsel in distressed paced and screamed, waiting for her salvation, Mario.
I’m not Mario
, Amanda told herself.
But while she saw a stack of barrels off in the distance, and more whirling toward her, she didn’t see any giant ape.
Strange
, she thought. Maybe he would be on the last platform just above, the ‘safe’ one that marked the end of the game.
Three barrels headed toward her, full of savagery, now sparing no mercy. Laughing to herself, Amanda pointed her finger at them, and made them all blow up. “I’m free,” she whooped, as she climbed the very last ladder, to her sanctuary.
Bone-weary, she collapsed on the final level, safe from any threat of evil kegs. Would she now see the damsel in distress, or Donkey Kong himself? She raised her head, and screamed.
It was worse.
Much worse.
It was a very wrathful Demus, scowling directly at her.
Chapter Fifty-Three
“Demus?” Amanda said, almost like a small child looking at a ghost for the first time.
The red wizard towering over her was no longer the mercurial antagonist he’d been once his prized crown was snatched away from him. No, it was worse; he was vengeful, crestfallen, and resolute.
“Congratulations, Amanda,” he spoke, his voice highly dry and strained. “You’ve managed to steal my heart under false pretences, then seize it, smash it, and grind it into a pulp.”
Amanda’s hope sank. There was no way out. “I did, Demus,” she admitted out of sorrow. Slowly, she stood up to gaze into his empty eyes. His posture was dangerous now. It indicated that he no longer cared about the consequences, and would do whatever he wished.
Demus’ voice was cold. “Tell me why you think you should live.”
A calm, disembodied female voice came out.
Indie
. “She doesn’t have to do that, Demus.”
He blinked in surprise.
The Donkey Kong set vanished. Instantly, the trio of Regi, Indie, and Justica stood in front of Demus, blocking off his view of Amanda. They were now all standing on the floor of Emerana, within its colossal stature, as if nothing had happened.
“Sorry, Amanda,” Regi apologized. “We just came in time. We freed ourselves just now and talked with Indie. We couldn’t be here any sooner.”
“I’m so happy you’re alive, Amanda,” Justica said as she glanced over to where Amanda stood. “You’re a most unique Mortal to have survived our war games.”
Demus’ face fell even further. He knew the game was up. “What’s going on, Indie?” he muttered to his closest confidant, Indie, who stood in the middle.
“It’s over, Demus,” Indie said, not smiling. She looked around at everyone. “We talked.”
Demus remained resolute, pouting.
Indie managed a faint smile in Justica’s direction. “She’s very good, you know. She let me win. I was surprised she did so, but if you know her as well as I do, it isn’t surprising at all. She then carefully planted seeds of doubt into my conscience.”
“I knew it’d work,” Justica said. “I know you, Indie. You’re not a bad person.”
Regi said, “I was fighting with Indie for quite a while, and as you know, she is the superior wizard. She defeated me again. Then she thought about it, with us all imprisoned in some way or other, and then changed her mind.”
“Why did you change your mind?” Demus urged Indie. He started pleading, holding out his arms. “It’s not too late. We can still carry out The Prophecy!”
“It’s over, Demus,” Indie said gently. “A woman has a right to change her mind.”
“He got free,” Regi said of Demus, “But not for very long. We came straight here as we knew where he would go.”
“Give it up, Demus.” Indie approached him. “The Prophecy will not happen today.”
Demus burst out in a fit of anger. “You can’t stop it! You can’t stop me!” He streamed, and ranted, and he raged. He glimpsed over the three other wizards to think of a way to get to Amanda, but he knew the effort would be futile. Then he vanished.
Amanda was nervous. “Where did he go?”
Indie turned to her, now that Demus was gone. “Don’t worry, Amanda. I know Demus. Once he cools off, he’ll no longer be a threat toward you.”
Amanda said nothing.
Indie raised her eyebrow and glanced back and forth between Amanda and Regi. “So you and Regi are a couple. I had absolutely no idea.” She allowed herself the thinnest of smiles, more out of bewilderment than out of empathy.
Amanda looked at Justica. The wizard in blue was looking very curiously at her.
Indie sighed. “I’ll go back to North America and announce that we’ll be making a public statement the next day. I’ll take care of this by myself.” She disappeared.
Justica finally spoke. “I’ll leave you and Regi alone.” She, too, vanished.
Amanda and Regi stood, facing each other some distance apart, under the sun’s rays streaming in from the vast expanse of forest canopy, some bouncing off the crystal walls encircling them. It looked truly magical.
“We’re alone, Amanda,” Regi said. He stared with wonder – and love – at her.
Amanda smiled. Her hair was tangled and greasy from all the burning oil. Her face was coated with soot. Yet, beads of sweat trickled down her neck and temples, leaving paths of flesh-coloured skin in their tracks. Her dress was adorned with numerous burn marks, and her bottom hem was all blackened. Despite her pitiful appearance, Regi saw that she was beautiful. He rejoiced at her courage. He felt nothing but love and pride for the vision before him, who was now gazing up at him with wistful eyes. He yearned to savour this precious spirit now embracing him, and make himself whole with her.
Amanda smiled. “We are.”
Chapter Fifty-Four
Two years, two months post-Liberation
“Do you, Joel Marc-André Lafrèniere, take Amanda to be your wife?”
Regi stumbled, nervous. He hesitated for a few seconds, then stammered, “I… I shall fully, unconditionally, and absolutely cause within my powers, to the best of my efforts…”
A beaming Amanda, resplendent in an ivory wedding gown, nudged him. “Regi,” she said lovingly, “Just say I do.”
“Oh! I’m not used to Mortal wedding traditions,” an obviously relieved Regi said through a long exhale. He turned back to the minister, smiling impishly. “In that case.
I do
.” He gazed at her straight into the eyes as he spoke.
The bemused minister next turned his attention to Amanda. “Do you, Amanda Jane Fullerton, take Joel to be your husband?”
“I do,” Amanda said without reservation.
“You may kiss the bride.”
Pandemonium broke out among the guests in attendance, as everyone stood up and clapped and cheered. Amanda looked positively radiant, and Regi appeared larger than life in his pale yellow tuxedo jacket combined elegantly with his other black garments: vest, pants, and bowtie.
Suddenly, above the Liberators’ Headquarters, which had been converted into a giant venue for the “wedding of the century,” helicopters loomed with their incessant, droning noise.
“Want me to?” Regi grinned at Amanda, holding up his hand.
Amanda nodded.
With a swish of his hand, the helicopters disappeared.
“Where are they now?” Amanda asked, loud enough for the crowd to hear.
“Over New York. It’ll take then ten hours to get back here.”
Everyone laughed.
The Minister harrumphed, indicating it was time to return to the nuptials. “Light the candles,” he instructed the newlywed couple.
Amanda walked over, her gown trailing her down the steps. She lit a large white candle with a simple match. After she finished, Regi walked down the other side of the aisle. There was no candle waiting for him. Instead, focusing intensely, he pinpointed exactly twenty spots in the air in front of him. Each ‘touch’ became a glowing dot. Once the dots were all complete, lines shot out from each dot to the nearest one, until a glowing dodecahedron was fully formed, hovering in the air. All the Mortals assembled gathered gasped; they had never seen such a feat of magic, nor did they know what the geodesic shape really represented.
The organ played. Amanda and Regi, their arms locked, walked down the aisle, their eyes indicating their hunger for each other. Several Mortals showered confetti upon them, as Amanda held on to her veil, laughing. Regi, not wanting to be left out of the fun, conjured up a trail of blazing fireworks behind them.
“Oh!” the crowd exclaimed, enthralled.
Amanda saw her parents and brother directly ahead. She and Regi walked over to them.
“Well done, Amanda,” her mother said, beaming a prideful smile at her.
“I’m so proud to have you as my son-in-law,” Trevor said as he shook hands with Regi. “Since I think a wizard is a human with perfection, I can say I have a perfect son-in-law.”
“I’m not sure about that, Mr. Fullerton,” Regi said with a laugh.
“Please, call me Trevor.”
“Okay, Trevor.”
Amanda then saw her brother, Adam. He was bravely fighting his emotions, but tears ran down his cheeks. As Amanda was shorter than her brother, she lovingly brought up her hand to wipe away the tears.
“Aw,” said Amanda.
“Amanda…” he began. Then he blubbered.
“It’s okay,” Amanda whispered soothingly. “I remember you were always a softy. You cried when your hamster died when you were twelve years old.”
Laughing, Adam bent over his lanky frame to hug her. His cheeks moist, he hugged Regi as well. “I can call upon you to do a few tricks for me?” Adam teased Regi.
“Absolutely, bro.”
Cognizant of the need to keep greeting their well-wishers, Amanda and Regi moved on further down, and next saw Justica and Indie. Justica and Indie wore beautiful evening gowns with corsages. A shimmering navy blue, Justica’s dress was more conservative, extending to just below the knees. A deep, rich royal purple, Indie’s strapless dress had a deep hem, practically skirting the plush carpet. They both looked gorgeous, and for once, very feminine.
Rather than hugging, Indie chose to shake hands with Amanda. “Congratulations.” There was no doubt, though, in mistaking her happiness.