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Chapter 5

"What do you think Splinter is doing right now?" Don asked as they walked alongside the bier that was carrying Shredder. They were making their way through the dense jungle, a line of biers and bearers, toward the White City jutting up into the air in the distance.

"He's probably looking for us," sighed Leonardo. "I expect he'll have gone to that warehouse, seen the machine, the blood, and the lack of us and put it all together."

"What do you think he'd make of this?" snorted Michelangelo and gestured toward the rather bizarre scene.

Shredder was reclining on soft cushions laid across the bier, still asleep from that healing potion that Ancha had shot him with. On either side of him reclined two of the noble women who had accompanied the Priestess's honor guard. Leonardo couldn't quite figure out what their purpose was, but they seemed fairly busy making sure all the flowers that were woven into his hair didn't fall out, and that his skin was well petted. The Priestess herself rode in a large, enthroned bier behind Shredder. April rode with her, at her insistence and carried on a broken, tense, conversation with the cleric.

"I think," said Raphael, "that he would find this all majorly messed up. I mean, here we are walking and can-head's lying there getting macked on by some hot chicks. And he's not even paying attention."

As if responding, Shredder's hand twitched suddenly. One of the women reclining next to him cried out in alarm as he gripped her arm hard and rolled his head back and forth, trying to come out of the murkiness cast over him by the potion. The bearers lowered the bier with shrieks and the Priestess immediately leapt from her throne and ran to the shrieking girls. "What's happening?"

The girl whose arm Shredder cried out again as he tightened his grip, and frantically tried to pull herself free. Shredder was lifting himself slightly, but still having problems opening his eyes.

Ancha jogged up from the rear of the procession. "What is wrong?"

"He has come back to us early." The Priestess narrowed her eyes at Shredder who was straining against the potion to come awake. The trapped girl began to sob in pain. Raphael started to draw his sais to aid the girl but the Priestess raised a hand in warning to him.

Shredder's eyes flickered open, as he half raised himself up. His eyes, still unfocused passed over the whimpering girl at his side. Even in a half-sedated state he knew the value of keeping a hostage close. He looked up to the Priestess and the large group that had formed around him with confusion. And, for just a moment, his dark eyes locked with those of the Priestess. He narrowed his eyes and returned her glare.

"Ancha!" spat the Priestess, nonplussed.

Ancha immediately strung another little mercer dart and swiftly fired it into Shredder's neck. At the close proximity, there was an audible "thwap" as it entered his throat, and his eyes immediately rolled back into his head, his body relaxed, and he released his grip on the girl, who immediately scuttled away from him.

"I cannot believe it," Ancha breathed. "He was only dosed with the mercer a couple hours ago."

"It is apparent that this Paelo is not so susceptible to our potions. He will need double the doses and twice as often."

"Could that not be dangerous to him..." Ancha began to object.

"Silly girl!" the Priestess hissed and turned her stony face on the shorter woman. "You did not live in the time of the Paelos as I did. Dangerous to him? Dangerous to us if he wakes fully. He could fight. Or worse, flee. He is the most precious object in the Kingdom, the world. The potions enfeeble the mind, yes. But it is not the mind that we must preserve, but the body." The Priestess sighed. "Ancha, I appoint you to stay near him and be vigilant. Next time he wakes, do not apply the mercer, but the drowser. It is time for him to be awake, but not awake. For soon he will meet the Queen. He should be healed by the next time he wakes."

The turtles listened to this exchange with great interest. April had come up and stood next to them and she gathered from their looks that this might be the right time to ask about interrogating him.

She cleared her throat. "Priestess, may I ask you something regarding, my, my property."

"Of course," the Priestess replied, evaluating April's face.

"The potion that you use, ah, to make the Paelo receptive to the Queen, does it make him unable to resist all suggestions?"

"That is the nature of the potion, yes." the Priestess replied, but her eyes seemed to grow cunning.

"Would it be possible that my friends and I could speak with the Paelo when he is under the influence of this potion? This would suffice as payment for him, of course."

"Absolutely not." the cleric answered, not missing a beat. "The amorn potion, the potion of unification, is holy, sacred, and secret and can only be used in the presence of the Queen and her courtiers."

April opened her mouth but the Priestess cut her off.

"But, by way of payment, you may speak with him while he is under the influence of the drowser, the next potion he will be dosed with. The drowser makes the Paelo semi-coherent, while restricting his ability to move. Unfortunately, it does not guarantee that he will not resist questioning, but it will make him more pliable. That is all I can offer you." She glanced quickly at the turtles, then answered. "And it must be you alone. When we reach the Palace, it is critical that the Paelo be removed from the presence of these other males, for reasons of purification. Only you may speak to him, as is your right as his owner."

April glanced warily at the turtles who shrugged and the entire procession reassembled and slowly began to move on again.

The turtles gathered into a group to whisper about the strange events that had just taken place. "That chick is completely freaky," Mike observed quietly, gesturing over his shoulder to where the Priestess rode.

"I have to agree," whispered Leonardo. "I can't help but think..."

"...that she's up to something," finished Don. "I mean, Ancha seems pretty earnest. She seems to actually believe all these silly things about Shred-head. But the Priestess? She seems a bit more practical and cynical about it all."

"Maybe its just not as big of a deal," said Leonardo. "After all, according to her, Shredder's not the first guy she's dealt with."

"It's not that," said Don. "It's not just her no nonsense approach. It's something else. The way she looked at him. Like she was going to have him for dinner."

"Well she is, in a manner of speaking," chimed in Raphael.

"Not like that," whispered Don impatiently. "Like something else. I don't know, maybe Mikey said it best. She is freaky. And not quite human."

"I have to agree with that," Leo said.

"Well," said Raph, casting a sour glance at Shredder who was again tended by the two slightly more watchful women. "Let's just hope April can get what we need out of Shredder. It may just be up to her to find out where we are and how to get home."

Up in the bier, sitting tensely next to the stern Priestess, April was frantically wondering the same thing.

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It had been a long walk through the dense jungle before emerging onto a wide, flat plain which led up to the gates of the White City. As they approached, its dizzying towers rose higher and higher. As the shapes of the city emerged, columns and arches, and great-temple-like structures topped by gargantuan domes stood in a jumble within the walls. April was distantly reminded of the scale of the Imperial Palace in Vienna, somehow over-layed with the compact spires and domes of Constantinople. Except the entire city glimmered an eerie, almost antiseptic, white. Inside the gates, hundreds of well-dressed, aristocratic women gathered to watch the procession, all of them growing solemn when Shredder passed, still asleep, in the bier.

They passed through a series of courts and marble halls and finally approached the inner Palace, marked by a set of twenty-foot golden doors that were opened by four well-appointed guards. Inside was a vast, echoing hall with Gothic-ribbed roofing but Greek-inspired marble mosaics on the floor and massive murals akin to those found in the ruins of Crete. Leo nudged Raphael and pointed to the wall. He gulped when he saw that the scenes depicted were that of a great war, between a vast army of women and a rag-tag group of men who were seemingly getting slaughtered.

Inside the hall, the biers were lowered and everyone gathered in a group to hear the Priestess.

She looked squarely at April and the Turtles. "The Paelo must be taken into the Royal Chambers of the East Wing for purification. He will not be pure for at least a day so there will be no audience with the Queen tonight. Instead, April, tonight you may spend your last night with the Paelo and emerge in the morning no longer his owner."

April immediately blushed and objected. "Oh, but I only need to ask him some questions. I don't need to, er, spend the night..."

But as she said this, the women around the circle, both Ancha's troupe and the aristocrats gasped in horror and the Priestess stepped forward with anger. "You dare reject such an honor?"

April stepped backward and she felt Leo poke her from behind. "Agree, April. He'll be drugged, don't worry," he whispered.

That's exactly what I'm worried about, thought April. "I mean," she said aloud, trying to straighten her back and sound in charge. "Of course I will spend the night with him, as is MY RIGHT." She emphasized the last two words and glanced around at the rest of the women, feeling that it couldn't hurt for her to gain some authority.

"Fine," said the Priestess, still wary. "You and your tawdi will be given a chamber in the West Wing, and you will be fetched in the Evening when it is time." She spun curtly and the rest of the women followed, hoisting up Shredder, still snoozing away and unawares of what had taken place. They disappeared through some great bronze doors, and Ancha, with some Palace servants led April and the turtles in the opposite direction. But, they all felt anxious in parting ways with Shredder, as so much was at stake on him.

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They were lounging around the chamber, pretty much enjoying being in someplace so luxurious, and a place with a bath. They had all taken turns in the great, marble swimming pool of a bath and now sat around on the gilded furniture, freshly scrubbed, greedily eating the delicious fruits and meats that had been brought to them. They had been speculating all afternoon about the mysterious Priestess, what the Queen really wanted with Shredder, and what the heck April was going to do to squeeze him for information that night.

"It's not pizza, but it's darn good," observed Mike, as he attempted to place some meat, a tomato-like fruit, and some bread in his mouth at once, in a desperate attempt to reproduce pizza.

"So, April," Leo began cautiously. "You'll be O.K. being near Shred-head tonight? You don't think he may..."

"I'll be fine," April insisted. "He's going to be knocked out on some "drowser" or whatever. The problem is, how the heck do I get him to tell us how to get home?"

"Well," said Don. "There are many ancient techniques of interrogation, secret, subtle skills which will force even the most awake individual to spill his soul. But, I don't think we'll get it all taught to you in the next half hour."

"I suggest taking my sai." said Raph flatly.

April looked at him in surprise.

Leo said. "I think I've got to agree. The oldest methods work best. He'll be disoriented. Hold the blade to his throat, explain to him that he's been captured as some sort of long-term sacrifice, that they're going keep him drugged and kill him, and if he tells us how to get home, that we'll break him out and take him with us. That potion may make him believe you."

"We won't take him back?" April asked.

"Heck no," said Don. "There's an entire world of women here who think that he's the neatest thing since sliced-bread and will probably fight to the death to keep him. He's not our problem now. We'll get the information from him and split."

April nodded. "And if he doesn't talk?"

Leonardo sighed, "Cut him a little with the blade, April, if you can manage it. I'm sorry that you have to do this, it's not right that you should. But, just cut him a little and he'll snap to attention. Do what you have to."

"Don't worry," April said, fingering Raphael's sai. "I'll find out what we need to know. Somehow." Deep down, she wondered if she'd really be able to hurt anyone with the weapon.

Just then Ancha stepped in the door and began to shoo the turtles away. "Be gone! Your mistress must dress!"

The turtles gave her a knowing look of support and disappeared into an adjoining chamber.

Ancha clasped her hands together and smiled happily at April. "I have just checked in on your Paelo. He awoke sometime ago, and was given the drowser, so he is now half alert. He will be most receptive to you, I think."

"Uh-huh," April said, not really knowing how to respond to such a statement. Ancha brought out of a wardrobe a gorgeous, gauzy shift of a dress and helped April into it. "Now you are ready," Ancha said with satisfaction. "And remember, I will be outside the chamber all evening if he needs redosed. Just call my name."

April nodded, and with a shaky breath, she grasped the sai and followed Ancha out of the room.

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The door shut behind April in the gorgeous, lofty bedchamber and she immediately blushed.

Across the marble floor, on the enormous pillow-covered four-poster bed reclined a nearly-nude Shredder. If it were not for strategically-placed cover carelessly flung over his groin, the "nearly" would not have been required in the sentence before. He lay on his back, arms loosely spread at his sides. April was relieved to see that around his wrists were golden-handcuffs that trailed by a chain to the head-board. He appeared to be asleep, his head slightly turned, mouth parted.

She started across the floor and approached the bed, her face turning a deeper scarlet as his body came into focus. His skin was smooth and dark against the white sheets, and as it was almost oppressively warm in the room, even with a large French window which was open admitting a slight breeze and tossing gauzy curtains, there was a fine mist of sweat across his body.

She neared the bed and stood for a moment at a loss at what to do next. After a quick decision, she averted her eyes and quickly tugged the sheets over most of his body, practically up to his chin. She sighed, feeling a little better, but at the movement of the sheets Shredder stirred and opened his eyes. The dark irises seemed unfocused as he cast his gaze across the room and up to April. His face contorted slightly in frustration, and he sat up. April was distressed to see the sheet slip down all the way to his waist. His muscles flexed as he sat up, moving slowly as if through water, or in great pain.

"Miss O'Neil..." his voice cracked. "Miss O'Neil. Where have you brought me? Why...where am I?" The words were drawn out, as if he had to think very hard to speak. He continued to blink as if he were not quite awake.

April thought quickly, and hid the sai behind her back for the moment. "You've been captured. You remember the women."

"Yes," he said. He sagged against the head-board weakly, as if it was draining his strength merely to sit up. "I remember...they shot me with something...but...I can't think..."

April felt confident enough to step closer. "They've brought you to their Palace. They want you because you're a man, and there are no men in this place. They killed them all."

His eyes snapped to hers when she said this. April continued, "They want you for, eh, breeding purposes. And then they said they're going to sacrifice you."

As she said this, he turned slowly and examined the golden fetters around his wrist. It seemed rather pointless, he didn't even have enough strength to stand, let alone break bonds.

April continued, "But we'll break you out, take you with us. But, the portal is gone." She stepped closer as she said this. "You must tell us how we got here, and how we can go back."

Shredder didn't seem to be paying attention. He looked from the fetters to the walls, and slowly up to the ceiling. He mumbled to himself, "Breeding? They said Breeding...but that's not true at all...no..."

"Hey!" April came closer, and even sat down on the bed. "Listen. It may sound great in the short-run. But they said they're going to KILL you, cut your throat. We must get out of here soon, don't you understand?"

His head rocked back as she said this. "Oh, yes...they'll kill...but not cut...they won't breed, can't breed..." His words were slurred with the effort of saying them.

April suddenly snapped. She whipped out the sai and grabbed him by his shoulder, yanking him close. She pressed the tip of the sai to his throat. "Listen, Shred-head. I have no qualms about slicing your throat. We can figure out how to leave without you, but by then, you'll be dead. Do you understand? Tell us now and we'll take you, we'll all get out of here at once. If you don't, they'll cut you up and we'll leave anyways. Got it?"

She was leaning close to his face, and his eyes gazed into hers. His eyes looked sad somehow, a bit hopeless. The skin of the shoulder where she grasped him was warm and smooth. She could hear his breathing, shallow, ragged breaths.

She glared at him and he at her for some time, and then, slowly, he leaned forward, bringing his lips to hers. April was so shocked that for a moment she didn't react. With great effort, but also with a kind of falling forward, his warm lips brushed hers lightly. April was frozen, and as he leaned forward she held the sai firmly at his throat such that when he engaged in the almost-kiss the tip pierced his throat and a little stream of blood wound down his skin.

He flinched slightly after a moment and leaned back against the head-board, closing his eyes. April sat, absolutely stunned and enflamed with a feeling she couldn't quite identify, watching his dark chest rise and fall and the little rivulet of blood snake across his torso. The breeze lifted the gauzy curtains again, and all was silent.
To Be Continued!