“Pendragon?” Alder called.
It surprised me that he called so loudly, but quiet didn’t count anymore. Not with Underdog still bellowing at us. I looked back to see Alder kneeling over the fallen red shirt. “Leave him,” I commanded.
“Look at this,” Alder said, ignoring me.
“Alder, c’mon. There’s gonna be more.”
“That is what I am afraid of.”
It was something about the grave way he said that that made me stop and focus. I jumped back down the stairs, past the barking dog, and ran to the kneeling knight. Alder held up his hand. In it, was an ear. The guard’s ear. My first thought was to retch. My second thought was to wonder why Alder would pick up the gruesome trophy. My third thought was the only one that counted. I took the ear. It didn’t feel right. Not that I’d ever held an ear before, but something was definitely off. It didn’t feel human. I looked at the unconscious guard. He was lying injured-ear-side up. Alder had knocked the ear clean off when he pounded the guy. There was no blood and no wound. Where the ear had been was a smashed piece of computer board.
“It’s a dado,” I gasped.
“Of course it is,” came a voice from across the foyer.
Alder and I both jumped to see Alexander Naymeer standing in the doorway that led to his office. He wore a deep red bathrobe over pajamas. Even at that early hour, the guy looked perfectly put together, like some kind of magazine ad for elderly slick guys in Vegas or something.
“All of my guardians are dados,” he continued. “They make excellent guards.”
The dog continued barking, even though her master was there.
“Nevva!” Naymeer commanded. “Come.”
The dog instantly stopped howling and ran to him.
“You named your dog ‘Nevva’?” I asked.
“After my former nanny. I believe you know her.”
I didn’t answer. I hadn’t thought about Nevva since I left Ibara. Was she lurking around somewhere? Could she possibly have taken on the form of a dog? It didn’t seem likely.
“Please,” Naymeer said cordially. “Join me, won’t you?”
He turned and went back into his office, leaving Alder and me alone in the foyer.
“This is just odd,” I whispered.
Alder followed the old man. I followed Alder. When we entered his office, Naymeer was headed for his desk, to pick up what looked like a TV remote control.
“I’m pleased that you two are here,” Naymeer said calmly. “It saves us all the trouble of hunting for you.”
It would have seemed so normal and cordial, if he hadn’t used the word “hunted.” That wasn’t a cordial word. Still, the whole British thing with the accent and the civility made it seem as if we were welcome guests.
On one wall was a huge, flat-screen TV that I hadn’t noticed the first time we were there. It looked like it was tuned to CNN.
“I am surprised you arrived so early in the day,” he continued. “Why is that? Did you expect to catch us all napping?”
Of course he was right, but we didn’t give him the satisfaction of answering.
“I don’t sleep much,” he continued. “There’s too much happening. I’ve already had breakfast. Would you like something to eat?”
Our answer was to stare at him. Naymeer shrugged and pointed the remote at the screen. Instantly the news went away as the on-screen image divided into several smaller pictures. A close look showed the feed from surveillance cameras that covered every possible angle of the compound. I felt Alder tense up. He wasn’t used to watching TV. Heck, he wasn’t used to any kind of technology. He’d probably freak if he saw an electric toothbrush.
“Are you surprised how easily you made it through to me?” Naymeer asked.
He gestured for us to look at the screen. We watched several different images of ourselves being played back simultaneously. We were recorded running toward the house from next door, creeping along the wall, climbing up the tree, climbing over the wall, and running to the house. Here we thought we were being so stealthy. They were watching us from the second we got within shouting distance.
“What is this magic?” Alder asked in awe.
“It’s not magic,” I answered. “It’s the surveillance I told you about. Oops.”
Naymeer added, “Suffice it to say, leaving the compound won’t be nearly as easy.”
He pointed the remote, and the screens changed to what looked like live pictures from the same surveillance cameras. Several red-shirt guards took positions at the front gate, at the front door, and at the four corners of the outside walls of the compound. In other words, we had walked into a trap.
“No matter,” Naymeer said jovially. “I’m sure you don’t wish to leave so quickly. Not after going through such trouble to see me.” He put the news program back on and sat behind his desk. “You caught me as I was preparing for this evening’s conclave. I would love it if you honored me by attending as my guests.”
“What’s a conclave?” I asked.
“A small gathering of the faithful,” Naymeer answered, waving his hand as if it were nothing. “Tonight should be especially eventful though. We’re preparing for the big night tomorrow.”
“What will happen tomorrow?” Alder asked.
Naymeer’s eyes went wide. “You can’t be serious! It’s the night of the General Assembly vote! It’s nothing less than the event that will decide the future of mankind.” He got a mischievous gleam in his eye and added, “And the future of Halla.”
I wanted to jump over the desk, yank him by his expensive robe, and drag him down to the flume right then and there. I might have tried, too, if the TV news show hadn’t caught Naymeer’s attention.
“Shhh!” he commanded, looking to the screen.
Alder and I looked to see a dark-skinned man being interviewed. He was introduced as Professor Haig Gastigian of New York University, the leader of a group called the “Foundation.” Mark and Courtney had told us all about the guy. He was the one sane voice that anybody seemed to be listening to.
On the screen, Gastigian said, “To say this has gone too far is a gross understatement. For the General Assembly of the United Nations to allow a single entity to dictate matters of morality is nothing short of fascism. There are far too many people who will not sit still and let these Ravinian people impose their value system on the world. We plan on staging a protest outside of the United Nations, beginning today and carrying through the vote tomorrow evening. In addition, as a show of strength and unity, there will be a major rally beginning tomorrow evening-”
Naymeer clicked off the TV and tossed the controller onto his desk in disgust. “Gastigian and his people call themselves the ‘Foundation,’” he scoffed. “Foundation of what? Failure? Excuse? Whimpering? Thinking that a group of loudmouthed ne’er-do-wells can stand up to us is exactly why we have become so powerful. Ravinia is about taking positive, decisive action, not whining and fearing change. Do they have any idea that their complaining and negativity is their downfall?”
There was plenty to discuss with Alexander Naymeer. But not then. Not there. I glanced at Alder and nodded. It was time.
“I want to hear all about it,” I said as the two of us stalked toward Naymeer’s desk. “Let’s take a trip first.”
“Excuse me?” Naymeer said, genuinely confused. “And please,” I added. “No whimpering.”
“Wha-”
Alder grabbed the guy’s arm and twisted it behind his back.
“You’re hurting me,” he complained.
“Nuh-uh,” I cautioned. “No whimpering.”
“I will not hurt you, so long as you do not resist,” Alder said to the man.
Naymeer didn’t fight. “You realize this is futile,” he said.
“Let’s find out,” I replied, and walked for the door.
Alder followed with Naymeer. The dog named Nevva sat on the couch and didn’t so much as whine in protest.
