FicWad

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THE LION, THE CAT AND THE TURTLES
Chapter Eight:
The Box of Doom



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April O'Neil was no stranger to the odd and unusual. Ever since that fateful day when her life had first been saved by a group of mutated Turtles trained in the art of Ninjutsu, said life had been more or less one long string of odd and unusual events.

Mutated animals. Aliens. Superheroes. Time-travelling. Parallel dimensions. Horrible monsters. And, of course, Casey Jones (who, being human, should logically have been less odd than all those other things but somehow managed to be twice as odd).

Occasionally, she wished that it would all be a little simpler and more, well,/ normal.../ but those occasions were rare. Most of the time, she counted herself as lucky and privileged to be a member of the close-knit family that was the "Turtle clan," and if not having a normal life was the price she had to pay for that, she'd pay it gladly.

Even so, when the photograph of the old wardrobe suddenly opened its doors and that bright white light filled her vision, April knew at once that her life was about to enter a whole new dimension of odd.

Blinded by the bright light, she felt the world around her slip away, and for a moment she had the strangest sensation of falling through and endless nothing, before she suddenly realized that she was lying on her stomach on a cold, hard surface, and something heavy was lying on top of her.

As her vision returned, she found herself on a marble floor, and on the bottom of a pile consisting of herself, Raphael, Donatello and Splinter.

"Ooof," she managed to say. "Get off me!"

"Sorry, April," came the muffled voice of Donatello.

Looking just about as dizzy and confused as she did herself, the three managed to scramble off her. She took Donatello's offered hand and got to her feet, looking around.

The room they were in could have been taken straight out of Arabian Nights, particularly one of those versions that goes on and on about the exquisite and grand beauty of the Sultan's Palace. It wasn't particularly large -- April's own living room was larger, in fact -- but the floor and walls were shining white marble, the ceiling seemed to be gold studded with all kinds of jewels, and on every single wall hung colorful tapestries with intricate and beautiful patterns. Three of the walls also sported elegantly arched doorways, leading out to other rooms that from the small glimpse they got of them were just as elegant and richly decorated. There were no visible windows, or lamps, or any other probable light sources, yet the room was somehow brightly lit.

"Man," said Raphael. "Looks like that crazy ol' woman knew what she was doin' after all! She actually sent us to another place, through a doorway on a picture! Anyone got any idea where the heck we are?"

"Or where Mike and Klunk and Mrs. Palmer are?" Don added, letting go of April's hand.

Splinter seemed to have come fully to his senses again. He held up a hand for silence and said, in a low voice: "I don't know why Michelangelo, Klunk or Mrs. Palmer are not with us, but it might have something to do with Mrs. Palmer's claims that she was never to return to Narnia."

"You think this is Narnia?" said April.

"I may be wrong," said Splinter. "but it seems the most likely. Our purpose was to go to Narnia and seek out Leonardo, after all, and it seems like we have graciously been offered a way in. I pray that Michelangelo will be all right, though," he added, a trace of worry in his voice.

"Well --" Raph began, but before he got any further, he stiffened and looked towards one of the arched doorways.

In the sudden silence, April could hear footsteps rapidly approaching from outside the room.

She barely had time to register anything else, because by now Don had grabbed hold of her and hauled her in through another of the doors, while Raph and Splinter vanished in through the door on the opposite wall.

They'd only just ducked out of sight when the footsteps came to a halt, inside the room they had just exited.

Don and April pressed themselves against the walls on each side of the door to lessen the chances of being seen from outside, and Don looked at April while pressing a finger to his beak. April nodded to show that she understood -- they were in a strange place and had no way of knowing whether the owners of the footsteps were friendly or hostile, or what they might say to finding strangers, and mutant turtle strangers at that, in what might even be their home.

"I was certain I heard voices from here," a low voice came from the room; speaking perfectly normal English, if with a vague accent that April couldn't quite seem to place. "Strange voices."

"Perhaps you were mistaken," said another voice. "Or perhaps it was a pair of slaves."

"Without being accompanied by a guard or by the Tisroc himself -- may he live forever?" the first voice said, sounding both angry and afraid. "If any impudent slaves or intruders have dared enter these rooms... Hopefully they have not found the Box!" (April could almost hear the capital letter in that last word.)

Don and April exchanged hurried looks. These people definitely didn't sound like they'd be friendly if they found them here. Don clutched his bo staff and April tensed up, ready to either fight or run, whatever came first.

But all of a sudden, Raphael's voice sounded: "Lookin' for me, boys?"

There were a couple of startled yells, the sounds of a very brief struggle, and then -- silence.

After a few seconds, the voice of Raph sounded again: "Feh. Amateurs. Even a low-rankin' Foot Soldier woulda put up more of a fight than that."

Don rolled his eyes.

April decided to risk a peek, and was greeted by the not-all-that-unexpected sight of Raphael standing over the unconscious bodies of the two men. They were dark-skinned and dressed in rather elaborate-looking uniforms, and a pair of scimitars were lying on the floor right next to them.

Splinter emerged from the door, looking grave. "I am afraid that did not buy us very much time. Someone else is bound to come by before long."

"And judging from these two bozos, they won't be happy ta see us," Raph added.

"Very likely not," Splinter agreed. "With that in mind, let's make good use of the little time we have and get out of here and find an exit as quickly as possible."

For the first time, April turned to look at the room she and Don was in. It was smaller than the first one, and though made of the same marble and gold didn't contain the same tapestries and decorations. It was also completely empty, save for a one-legged table, on which there stood an intricately-carved wooden box. It was made out of some kind of reddish wood, with a lid that looked like it was made of silver, and it was small enough that April could easily have gripped and lifted it with one hand.

"Well, there's no exit here," she called to Splinter. "Just a small room, and a table with a box... Probably the same one they were talking about," she added as an afterthought.

"There is no exit in the room Raphael and I were in either," Splinter answered, turning to Raph. "Raphael, see if you can find an exit, but be careful that you are not seen."

"Gotcha, sensei!" Raph vanished out the door where the two guards had entered.

Splinter carefully stepped over the two unconscious guards, and walked up to April and Don's door. "Be ready to move out as soon as Raphael returns," he said. "We need to get somewhere safe to regroup and consider our strategy."

"Let's just hope there's a safe place we can get to," April muttered. "We know nothing about this place, not even what's outside these rooms."

"If this room, and the clothes of these two guards, is any indication of what the rest of this place is like," said Don, "then I wouldn't be surprised to see flying carpets and genies abound. Still, given how Mrs. Palmer's description of Narnia sounded a lot more like a European pseudo-medieval society..." he shrugged. "Impossible to say for sure."

"Didn't those two guards say something about someone called... what was it again... Tisroc?" said April. "Or the Tisroc, I think it was. Ever heard of that?"

Don seemed to think this over for a couple of seconds, but then he shook his head. "Can't say I have," he said. "Master Splinter?"

"I am just as much in the dark on this as you are, my son."

"Well, one thing I can say for sure," said April, as another thought entered her head, "is that someone really don't want this box to be found." She let her eyes roam over to the box, or possibly the Box, again. "Splinter, what was in the room you and Raph hid in, again?"

"Bookshelves," said Splinter. "I did not have time to see what sort of books they contained, but there were no boxes."

"Must be this box, then."

"I guess," said Donatello, turning to look at the box as well. "But that does beg the question what such a tiny box could contain that's so valuable for whoever owns a place as grand as this."

He and April exchanged looks again, and she could tell from his expression that he was just as curious as she was.

But Splinter shook his head. "It's hardly our concern what this box may or may not contain," he said. "We are intruders in this place, however unintentional, and it's not for us to 'go snoop into other people's business,' as Michelangelo might say. Our main concern at the moment is to get out of here, and we need to stay ready for when Raphael returns -- or, in the worst-case scenario, someone else arrives."

April sighed. "You're right."

"Besides," Splinter continued. "That was genuine fear in the guard's voice. Fear that went beyond merely being punished for letting a valuable be stolen by some intruder or slave. Whatever is in that box is very likely dangerous in the wrong hands."

"But... it's so small," said April, looking at the box.

"So is a hand grenade, but that doesn't make it any less lethal," Don pointed out.

But before April could answer this, the old rat stiffened for a fraction of a second and turned his head sharply towards the door Raphael had ran out. "Wait!" he said. "That's Raphael yelling!"

"He must have been discovered!" said Don.

"April," said Splinter hurriedly. "Take one of the scimitars," he pointed to the weapons still lying on the floor, "and try to make yourself acquainted with it. If we are not back in five minutes, get out of here any way you can!"

With that, and before April could answer, both Don and Splinter had vanished out the door to come to Raph's aid.




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Not five minutes earlier, Raphael was racing down the marble-covered, tapestry-decorated corridor, silent as a shadow, and he couldn't help but feel his spirits lift as he ran. Finally, he was doing something, not just sitting around and waiting or listening to stories. He didn't understand how the others could have the patience to sit through that Mrs. Palmer's sob stories while knowing that Leo was out there and probably in trouble. If Raph had been in charge, there would have been far less talk and far more action in situations like this.

Fine, Leo was in some different world. It was the most obvious thing in the world that they should find some way to go after him, but of course first everyone else had to go through all their "what?" and "no, we can't do that, that's impossible" and "be patient, Raphael" stages.

He loved his family and friends, and would gladly die for any one of them, but man, could they ever be frustrating at times.

The corridor ended, and Raph found himself in another corridor, running sideways from the one he'd been in, and for the first time since he'd found himself in this crazy marble building, there were windows, huge windows with the same kind of arched top as all the doorways, in a row along the wall -- and with real, actual sunlight streaming in through them.

There didn't seem to be any glass in any of these windows, so with some luck, this could make for an excellent emergency exit.

Taking a quick look around to ensure that there weren't anyone else in the corridor, he scooted up to the closest window to peek out of it.

The building he was in seemed to be on top of a hill or something, overlooking a mass of elaborately-shaped buildings; spires, battlements and balconies en masse, a number of what looked like minarets, and in between it all were zig-zag roads and huge flights of steps, all of which were bustling with crowds of people. The heat of the air stood against him, carrying with it the unmistakable scent of city life, mixed with the scent of oranges and lemons, from all the orange and lemon trees that seemed to grow everywhere there wasn't a street or a building.

Okay, thought Raph, when did I get to Agrabah?

He was just about to lean out a little further and try to judge whether they would be safe climbing down this wall (and whether April, who while in good physical shape wasn't quite up to the kind of acrobatics that he, Don or Splinter could pull off, would manage to get down on her own) when he heard noises from down the corridor.

Damn! he thought, looking for a place to hide, only to discover that there weren't any -- at least not in the corridor. He had no time to run down the corridor he'd come up either, so that only left one alternative.

Two seconds later, he was hanging on the outside wall, clinging to the windowsill and hoping that he was less exposed out here than he felt.

This might not'a been my best idea ever, he mused, glancing down and seeing that he was about thirty feet up in the air and directly above an exposed area that seemed to be a garden of some sort, where a huge amount of people -- all dark-skinned and elaborately dressed -- were gathered for what seemed to be a party of some sort. There were musicians and jugglers and drinking and dancing...

...and if even one person looked up now, Raph was screwed.

He hadn't even finished thinking the thought before just that happened. A woman's voice came down from the crowd, speaking more or less the exact words he'd been dreading: "O great Tisroc -- may you live forever -- what is that green creature hanging outside that window up there?"

"Great," Raph muttered under his breath as all the people down in the garden stopped whatever they were doing and looked up, a collective gasp going through the crowd. "Brilliant. Thank you so much, fate. Let's not give Raph a break or anything."

"O foul creature!" a man shouted from below, and Raph could see that he was dressed in the same garments as the guards he had knocked down earlier, and was holding a scimitar threateningly out -- as if it could possibly do any good, at that distance. "What foul deeds brings you to the Palace of the Tisroc -- may he live forever? Speak, beast, and know that the palace guards of the Tisroc --may he live forever -- will slaughter you where you stand, should you attempt a deceitful answer!"

First of all, I'm not standin', I'm hangin'! Second of all; I don't see any archers or people with dart guns or any sort of projectile weapons down there, so what were you plannin' on doing? Throw your scimitars at me and hope they'll hit? And third of all, what the heck do ya keep wishin' immortality on this Tisroc for, and why should it interest me? Raph didn't say any of this, even if he really wanted to. Instead, he tried to smile and said: "Yeah, hello to you too! I'm just a little lost here... any of you people know how I can get ta Narnia from here?"

There was another collective gasp from the crowd.

One of the people down there -- Raph guessed from the fact that he was even more elaborately dressed than everyone else, and the fact that everyone seemed to shut up immediately when he spoke, that he must be some kind of king, or possibly this Tisroc that people kept talking about -- raised himself and roared: "Narnia! Narnia! The accursed barbarians of the North! Foul sorcerers and demon-worshipers! Look, my people, look! Now they are sending their demons to my beloved country Calormen, even to the city of Tashbaan -- even to my own palace to spy and to work their wicked magic!"

Raph could only shake his head as the crowd beneath him began shouting curses at him. Okay, these people are wacko. No point in even tryin' ta reason with 'em.

"Why, he is a thief and a criminal!" probably-the-Tisroc screamed, a new level of panic in his voice. "Is he not hanging outside a window of the forbidden part of the palace where none save myself and my most trusted guards may enter? Has he not come to steal the most important and perilous treasures of Calormen and bring doom over us all?!"

"O loathsome demon!" roared the guard. "What wicked spell brought you here? What sorcerer do you obey?"

Raph swung up on the windowsill, getting to his feet and standing in the window, looking down at the party. Might as well go along with it. "I am the great and powerful demon Raphael!" he shouted. "And in the name of my Master Splinter, beware my wrath! Bye!" he added as he jumped back inside and got ready to run back to Splinter and the others.

Only to find himself face-to-face with around ten palace guards blocking his way.

"Where did you guys come from?" he demanded.

"Foul demon!" was the only reply from the guard who seemed to be the leader. "You will never get to the deepest secrets of the Tisroc -- may he live forever! You three, run to the sacred chamber and secure the Box of Doom!" he called to three of the guards, who immediately ran down the corridor towards the room with Splinter and the others.

Now, Raph wasn't particularly worried about the others. Splinter and Donny could easily have taken on three of these wimpy guards alone, and even April would probably have put up more than enough of a fight even on her own. But since the guards might come as a surprise to them, and since the cover was blown anyway, it would be better to give them a little 'heads-up.'

"HEY!" He roared at the top of his voice, hoping that it would carry far enough down the corridor that Splinter's keen ears would hear it.. "MASTER SPLINTER! THE GUARDS ARE COMING!"

"Silence, filthy demon!" the leader of the guards commanded. "Attack him, men!"

Quick as lightning, Raph drew both his sais from his belt. "Yeah, men, attack him!" he agreed, grinning madly as the guards advanced on him.

He hadn't had a decent, proper fight in weeks.




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The land of Calormen lies many miles to the southeast of Narnia, a vast desert separating the two countries, and though the far larger Calormen has never yet seriously tried to invade or go to war against the northern lands, the relationship between Narnia and Calormen has always been somewhat uneasy.

Narnians think of the Calormenes as a brutal people divided into oppressors and oppressed with absolutely no middle ground, and the strict Calormen class and caste system (not to mention the common use and ownership of slaves) is viewed with distaste. The Calormenes on their side view the Narnians as uncivilized, savage barbarians and sorcerers who consort with demons and use evil magic (which is exemplified by the large number of talking animals, fauns, dwarfs, giants and other "inhuman" creatures up in the north).

Still, many rulers of Calormen -- Tisrocs as they're called, and as they're thought to be descended from the god Tash, Calormenes always follow any mention of the current Tisroc with a "may he live forever" -- have been quite eager to one day claim Narnia and the northern lands as their own, and when they haven't done so yet, it's mainly for fear of the "foul sorcerers."

April O' Neil, of course, coming as she did from a different world altogether, knew nothing of this, although it might have interested her greatly to know that while she was still pretty far away from the country she and the guys was searching for, and probably couldn't have ended up in a worse spot for so-called "Friends of Narnia," she was at least in the same world.

All right, she thought to herself as she picked up the scimitar from the floor and glanced at her watch. Five minutes, and then I go after you. Got it, Splinter.

She swung the weapon testingly around a few times.

While she had been training under Splinter for some time now, and was getting to be quite skilled with the sword, the much shorter, curved blade of the scimitar felt strange and awkward to her. She had mainly practiced (and on occasion, fought) with straight-bladed weapons, and curved blades demand different techniques and strokes.

It wasn't exactly an ideal weapon for her, but it would have to do.

She glanced at her watch. Two minutes. Three more minutes, and then I'm coming after the guys. She moved over to the door, listening intently for the sounds of a fight or running footsteps. Two and a half minute. She wasn't sure, but she thought she could hear the sound of a fight somewhere in the distance... Three min -- ack!

She hadn't intended to think, or say, "Ack," it's just that this word is often the one that first one that pops into your head when someone sneaks up on you from behind, wraps a sudden arm around your chest, and places a scimitar to your throat.

"Barbarian woman," sneered the voice of the formerly unconscious guards. "Drop your blade, or you shall lose your head!"

"Ack," said April, almost involuntarily dropping the scimitar. She felt herself being dragged further into the room, the blade of the other scimitar still dangerously near her throat. I really should have taken both swords, she thought feverishly, and made sure that both guards were still unconscious.

"Why are you here, wench, and where is that green creature that so despicably attacked my esteemed colleague and myself?" the guard demanded.

April tried to swallow, but found that she couldn't manage. Don't panic, she thought. You've been in worse situations than this. "I'll tell you if you remove that scimitar from my throat," she said.

"You will tell me now!" said the guard, keeping the scimitar to her throat. "I see from your skin color that you are one of the accursed barbarians from the North. Have you come here to steal? Will you threaten our fair Calormen with your evil sorcery?"

"If I say no, will you let me go?" said April.

The guard laughed; an unpleasant and short laugh. "No."

"All right," said April. "Then I won't feel bad for doing -- this!" And with that, she pulled back from the scimitar as far as she could, at the same time moving her elbow back sharply and hitting the man in the stomach.

Now, if Calormen palace guards had been equipped with proper armor, this move would have been quite useless. But as luck would have it, the Tisroc saw no point in equipping the palace guard with armor, given that no-one in Calormen (for the Calormenes are, on the whole, a law-abiding and Tisroc-fearing people) would ever dare enter the palace uninvited. So actual armor was reserved for the City Watch and the soldiers in the army, whose jobs were more dangerous, while palace guards were provided with fancier cloth uniforms that mirrored their higher rank.

So the guard had no metal breastplate to protect him against April's sudden elbow attack. Neither did he have the necessary protection for her next move, as she took advantage of his being momentary stunned, wrestled free from his grip and kicked him in the groin.

He gasped and sank to his knees, the scimitar falling uselessly to the floor.

April didn't miss a beat. She knew she had to get out of the room and eventually the palace as well, but that there was likely to be more guards out there and that she couldn't be sure to meet up with Splinter and the guys before she met the guards. A scimitar would help her, true, but if Splinter had been right, there might be something in this room that would help her more.

She rushed into the smaller room, and grabbed the wooden box from the table.

The guard, struggling to get to his feet, gave out a yell of fear. "Not the Box of Doom!"

"That's right," April panted, holding the box to her chest and deciding to go with it. "The Box of Doom. Tell me, what should I do with it? Should I open it?!"

"No!" the guard wheezed. "Even a barbarian cannot be that mad! If that box is opened, the sky will fall on us all!"

Yeah, right, April thought. Somehow, I doubt that, given that there isn't even a lock on this thing. But he seems to actually believe it. "You'd be amazed at how mad a barbarian can be," she said out loud. "Now you and I are going to take a trip around this palace, and you're going to help me find my friends, and you're going to warn everyone that we see that the mad barbarian woman has the Box of Doom and won't hesitate to open it if anyone as much as thinks of doing something she doesn't like. Is that clear?"

"The Tisroc -- may he live forever -- will have my head for this," the guard wheezed. "Have pity with a poor man who only does his job and has five sons to feed..."

"Well, it's your choice," said April, hardening her heart. "What'll it be? Do as I say -- or get crushed by the falling sky?!" She made a motion as if to open the box.

"No!" the guard screamed. "Very well, thrice-damned barbarian! I will do as you say!"

"Good," said April. "See how much nicer it is when everyone gets along? You lead the way. I'll follow. But don't forget -- one single move that I don't like, and we're not good friends anymore." She made a move as if to open the box again.

"No! I beg you!" the guard yelled.

"Then march!" April commanded. She took a quick glance to the side to check if the other guard had stirred yet, but he still lay in a crumpled heap on the floor and didn't look like he was going to wake up for a while. So she bent over and picked up the scimitar from the floor, in case she met someone who wasn't afraid of a box; and then, with her newfound prisoner she marched out of the room and down the marble corridor, towards the sounds of the fight.




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Fighting against these guards, Raphael decided, was not unlike fighting your average street punks -- if the street punks had been slightly better organized and didn't have any guns. Just swap the cries of "freak" and "alien" for "demon" and "foul sorcerer," and the dialogue was remarkably similar as well.

His sais flashed like lightning; he spun around, jumped and kicked where he could, feeling his spirits rise even further. There seemed to be no end to the guards, more of them arriving from both ends of the corridor, but luckily for him, just as had it looked like there would be too many of them for him to comfortably deal with, Splinter and Donny had arrived and joined into the fray.

"Isn't this just like you, Raph?" said Don, sending two guards flying with a great swing of his bo. "We leave you alone for five minutes, and you end up in a fight with half the populace!"

"Sorry, I tried ta negotiate," Raph answered, slamming the heavy hilt of one of his sais onto the head of one guard, who immediately lapsed into unconsciousness, "but they thought my demands were too unreasonable!"

"Die, foul demon!" a guard shouted, lounging at Raphael with a scimitar, only to be flipped over by Splinter and landing heavily on his back. Raph took the opportunity to push another guard over him and use both fallen guards as a sort of springboard, somersaulting over the heads of two other guards and sending them tumbling to the ground with another flash of his sais.

This move brought him to the very edge of the melee, which was why he was the first to see April come marching up the corridor, following a terrified-looking guard (whom Raph vaguely recognized as one of the two he'd knocked out just ten minutes or so ago).

"April, stay back!" he warned, but it was too late. One of the guards sent flying by Don's bo crashed into the guard directly in front of April, who toppled and slammed into the woman.

April lost her balance and fell to the ground, and the small wooden box she was carrying slipped out of her hand and hit the floor about the same time as she did.

The silver lid on the box sprung open. And smoke, red smoke, started welling up from the box. And there, right in front of Raph's eyes, the red smoke was taking on a form; it twirled and coalesced into a distinctly human and definitely female shape.

"What the --" said Raph, so stunned that one of the guards would have gotten the drop on him, is said guard hadn't also caught glimpse of the smoke and the woman that suddenly stood there and fallen back.

"L-lady Asheena?!" said the guard.

"Lady Asheena?" Raph and April both repeated.

The woman standing there was young, probably a few years younger than April, she had long, black hair and was dressed in what was unmistakably a harem girl's outfit -- complete with a bare midriff and semi-see-through pants -- in red silk. She looked momentarily dizzy, as if she was coming out of some deep trance, and stared uncertainly at the scene in front of her.

Then, she seemed to come more into focus, glared at all the fighting guards and mutants, and with an irritated expression on her face, snapped her fingers.

Immediately, the fight stopped, all its participants -- guards, Don and Splinter -- frozen into their battle positions, still like statues.

"I do apologize," the woman muttered. "I just cannot deal with huge fights just after waking up like that." Then, she looked over April, Raph and the few guards who had escaped the freeze and were now gaping at her with astounded expressions. "Well," she said, looking resigned. "Which one of you was it that opened the box?"

"Ah... me?" said April in a small voice. "But it was an accident, I didn't mean --" she cut herself off as the harem girl dropped to her knees in front of her, bowing her head.

"O my Mistress," she said. "Your humble servant Asheena obeys you. What is your wish?"




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To be continued....
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Author's Notes: This chapter introduces the final major cast member for the story, namely Asheena the Genie. Some people might think that genies aren't particularly Narnia-ish, but both djinns and efreets have been mentioned in the narrative in canon -- the White Witch herself having been described as half-djinn and half-giantess -- so I didn't think it that much of a stretch. Besides, if there is any place where you might find a genie, it would be the Arabian Nights -esque Calormen... even though most Calormenes seem to strongly dislike and distrust magic and any sort of supernatural things.

You might say that April (and Splinter) is much too old to enter the world of Narnia... and you might be right. But I've already gone over the many inconsistencies in this "too old" rule, and there are also several canonical instances of grownups entering Narnia when it was convenient (Uncle Andrew, Frank and Helen in The Magician's Nephew, the pirates who would later on become the Telmarines in /Prince Caspian,/) so I feel that this is a minor tweaking of the rules at best.