Eighth Circle

The security alarm began to wail. The mournful sound was more like a funeral dirge than anything else. Tom consulted his tablet to see what was wrong and his suspicions were confirmed. The brilliant flash that had lit the northern sky was caused by a nuclear explosion. A mushroom cloud was rising over central Elm Grove.

'Thomas. What all this mean?'

Balduur had his own tablet and was fiddling with it.

'I don't understand, Thomas. It makes no sense.'

Tom was pleased that Balduur was treating him with more respect. The indignity of being rescued by the little man continued to weigh on his mind. It was reassuring to think that his advice was still valued.

'Elm Grove has been destroyed,' he said. 'It is vital to the guardians' hold on power.'

'Yes, Thomas.' Balduur nodded. 'It is where the guardians make the ray guns. But who destroyed it? That is what I want to know.'

'It was taken out by a nuclear bomb.'

'You mean like an air bomb?'

'Yes. But much bigger.'

'That's what I thought, Thomas.'

Balduur continued to pummel his tablet. A few days earlier he'd had trouble with the touch screen on the control panel when they were competing in the gladiatorial games. Now he was surfing the channels with the dexterity of a teenager. He looked up.

'Elm Grove was destroyed by a big bomb but that was not my question. I want to know who did it?'

'That's difficult to say.'

'Was it Plaid Koerno or someone else?'

'A bit of both perhaps ...'

'That is what I think, Thomas.'

Balduur showed him his tablet. It was tuned into one of the TV channels. A young woman with green hair was shouting at the camera, telling viewers she was Princess Liala and she had joined Plaid Koerno so she could help them in their struggle against the guardians.

'Liala is safe.' Balduur snapped the tablet shut. 'Her beloved mother, my dearly espoused Heather, will be so pleased. I must return to her at once.'

He hurried away with the palace trolls by his side.

Tom was pleased to see him go.

As cunning as a fox with two tails.

He recalled an expression from the Seventh Realm. It described Balduur to perfection. You never knew if the little man was coming or going. The story about him being espoused to the queen could be a total fabrication. And so could the claim about Father divorcing her. Tom decided that he must speak to Father. That was one thing. Another was to sort out the obscenities in jars and a third was to rescue the sirens.