The Black Shard (27 page)

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Authors: Victoria Simcox

BOOK: The Black Shard
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"So, you guys are the culprits!" Kristina said. She stuck her hands under one of the strong streams of spurting water to redirect it up at the fairies. The water hit many of them, sending them flying in and out of the sprays, resembling the changing color patterns in a kaleidoscope.

After paying back the fairies for snitching on her, Kristina sat on the edge of the retaining wall, ringing out her wet hair and sun-drying her clothes.

Werrien said his good-byes to the children, and Kristina stared at him, smiling, impressed with how popular with the children he was. She sighed, and then tilted her face up toward the warm sun. When it became too hot on her fair skin, she shielded her face with her hand and looked at Werrien. As she did so, she caught sight of something blindingly bright coming from the bottom of the fountain's water pool. Before she could tell what it was, Werrien called out to her, "Hey, Kristina?"

She turned around quickly. All the children had left except for Jabela, who tugged on his pant leg. He turned around to acknowledge the little girl, and at the same time, Kristina looked in the water pool again, toward the blinding light.

When she caught sight of it, her stomach seemed to do a cartwheel inside her—it was the stone from her necklace, lying at the bottom of the pool—the clear water gently rippling above it. The stone's color had changed again, from green to steel blue, and the sun reflecting off it made it painful for Kristina to look at it.

"Kristina?" Werrien called to her again. Kristina quickly turned to acknowledge him, and he instantly noticed her face had anxiety written all over it. "What's wrong?" he asked, his face revealing his confusion, which Kristina was now getting used to seeing.

"I'm great," Kristina said brightly, even though she was really stressed out. "I just got a little blinded by the sun."

Werrien's confused look changed into a smile. "You know not to stare directly into it, don't you?"

"Yes, of course," Kristina sighed.

"Hey! I'm going to quickly walk Jabela back to where the other children are. I'll only be a few minutes. Do you want to come with me, or wait here?"

"I'll wait here for you," Kristina said without hesitation.

"All right. I'll be back in a few minutes." Werrien picked up Jabela and disappeared into the crowded street.

At least I'll have a few minutes to get the stone and put it back on,
Kristina thought. She knew that sooner or later, she would have to tell Werrien that the necklace was broken.
But now just isn't the time, and besides, nothing bad has happened yet—at least not so far. I'll just keep hoping that nothing will.

As Kristina went to scoop the stone out of the water, it pulsated, and bubbles surged around it. Its steel-blue color glistened under the warm sun. Relieved to see that the chain was still attached to it, she placed it around her neck and tied its ends. Then she sat back down on the retaining wall to put on her shoes—that was when she noticed a red spot on the inside of her right leg; a sore, about the size of the head of a thumbtack.
Hmm ... I wonder how that got there. I don't remember hitting or scraping my leg on anything.
She glanced up and saw Werrien wending his way through the crowd toward her. Quickly, she put on her shoes, rolled down her pant legs, and stood up. She took the stone in her hand; it was slightly warm but cooler than it had been a few minutes earlier. She tugged gently on the chain to make sure it was secure around her neck, and when she was satisfied that it was, she tucked the crystal under the neckline of her T-shirt. Then she smiled and waved to Werrien.

As Werrien drew nearer and the crowd around him thinned, Kristina could see that he wasn't alone. He was walking and talking with a shamel who was pulling a rickshaw. The shamel was a trim, muscular-looking man with long hair—brown but graying—that was tied back in a braid behind his head. His face was very tanned and leathery-looking, probably due to spending long hours in the hot sun. Noticing Kristina looking at him, the shamel grinned at her. Kristina smiled back at him, and then she gave Werrien an unsure look, wondering what in the world he was up to this time.

When they arrived at the fountain, Werrien said, "Kristina, I'd like you to meet a friend of mine. This is Tor."

"Just as I pictured her," Tor said. "As lovely as this fine, sunny day here in Ezeree." He walked a little past Kristina so that the rickshaw's entrance was directly in front of her when he stopped.

"Hi, Tor," Kristina said.

"I'm honored to meet you, young lady," Tor replied.

The inside of the rickshaw had an emerald-green, velvet bench, and on each side of the bench were cup holders. In each holder was a fluted long-stem glass containing fizzing fairy blossom cider. Werrien stood beside the entrance of the rickshaw and, with a slight bow, waved his hand toward it.

"After you, my lady," Werrien said, acting debonair.

Kristina smiled, her shapely eyebrows lifting curiously as she entered the rickshaw. She sat down on the comfy seat and ran her hands over the plush, velvet bench.

"Are you hungry?" Werrien asked as he sat beside her.

"Actually ... " She paused for a brief moment, as if she needed to think about it, then she said, "I'm starving!"

"Getting pummeled in a water fight really does work up a great appetite," Werrien teased.

"Uh, don't you mean unfairly pummeled?"

"I guess it was unfair but nevertheless very fun."

A canteen hung from Tor's belt, which he detached and lifted to his lips. After guzzling its contents, he smiled at Werrien and Kristina. "On a day like today, I really need the energy of the fairy blossom," he said. His eyes squinted away from the hot sun. "Where to, Your Highness?"

"Zalya's, my good man," Werrien said. He handed Kristina one of the fluted glasses, and before Werrien could acknowledge her, she had downed the bubbling cider in a few gulps.

Werrien looked at her with a surprised expression on his face.

"Sorry," Kristina said sheepishly. "I was really thirsty."

Werrien gulped his drink down as well and then wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. "I must say that I'm glad to see you can cut loose. As a matter of fact, I was actually starting to worry that you didn't know how."

"Really?" Kristina said with an artful grin. Then suddenly, she burped loudly. Taken back, Werrien's eyes opened wide. Then he burped as well, and both of them laughed.

Pulling the rickshaw, Tor jogged, zigzagging between the Ezereen citizens who were strolling the city streets. It was a bumpy ride, and as the rickshaw made quick, jolting turns, Kristina found herself, more than a few times, being flung into Werrien.

"I can see you're falling for me again, but do you have to do it so abruptly?" Werrien joked.

"After that water fight, if I were you, I wouldn't be so sure of that," Kristina said, trying her hardest to look serious.

Tor took them deep into the inner city where the cobblestone streets were very narrow, and the colorful, stucco buildings on each side were so close together. They barely allowed sunlight to shine in between them. A warm breeze carried the scent of spices and herbs—curry, ginger, tarragon, cinnamon, and allspice—and it filled Kristina's and Werrien's senses. This part of the city reminded Kristina of a quaint Tuscan village she had viewed in a European picture book that sat on the coffee table in her living room at home. But the smells made her think of an entirely different place—like India or Turkey.

They turned on to a dark street devoid of people, except for an elderly dwarf sitting on a bench, smoking a pipe, and a young gnome woman sweeping a cobblestone entryway.

Tor stopped the rickshaw and gently laid its poles down on the road. After wiping the sweat from his brow, he turned to look at Werrien. "Here we are, Your Highness," he said.

Werrien jumped out of the rickshaw and Kristina followed him. "Hope the ride wasn't too bumpy for ya," Tor said with a smile to Kristina.

"Actually, it was very fun," Kristina said.

"Young lady," Tor said to Kristina, his grin spreading wide across his weathered, tanned face, "I wish you a very enjoyable visit here in Ezeree." He held out his strong, calloused hand to her, and Kristina placed her hand in his. As he gently shook it, his sleeve fell away from his forearm, revealing a tattoo about one and a half inches in diameter, just above the inside of his wrist. It was of a fairy blossom.

Mesmerized, Kristina stared at it, not because it was so beautiful— which it definitely was—but because she suddenly had an episode of déjà vu. She knew without a doubt that she had seen his tattoo before, but where, when, or how, she had no clue.

- 31 -
Zalya's House

W
errien dug into his pocket and took out a handful of gold coins to pay Tor.

"Thank you, Your Highness! It's always a pleasure doing business with ya." Tor put the coins inside a small pouch attached to his waist belt. As he was tying the pouch strings, Werrien noticed a sore on the back of Tor's hand.

"Did you burn yourself on something?" Werrien asked him.

Tor glanced briefly at his hand. "Not sure how I got that, but by the way I earn a living, I could have scraped it on a number of things."

"Pour a little fairy blossom on it, and you'll be as good as new."

"I'm going back to the fountain to take my break, so I'll make sure that I do that there. Thanks for your concern, Your Highness." Tor picked up the rickshaw poles. "Now, you two go and have some fun while you can," he said.

Werrien and Kristina said good-bye to Tor and then walked past the gnome lady, who was just finishing up her sweeping. "Your Highness," she said, giving a little curtsy. They continued on past the elderly dwarf sitting on the bench, smoking his pipe. He exhaled a cloud of smoke, which Kristina had to wave away from her face.

"Hello, Jobin," Werrien said.

"Hello, Prince Werrien," Jobin said, standing up and bowing. Then he sat back down and began coughing, a terrible hacking sort, like his lungs were filled with sticky tar. It was so awful-sounding that Werrien and Kristina turned to see if the poor fellow was all right. When he didn't stop coughing, Werrien became concerned and went to see if he could aid him in anyway. He approached the old dwarf, though, the fellow stopped hacking and waved Werrien away.

"Much obliged, Your Highness," Jobin said, "but I'm in no need of assistance." He took a long drag from his pipe, and after exhaling another gray cloud of smoke, he picked up a small brown bottle from the bench and took a swig out of it. "Ah! Got all I need for good health right here in this little bottle," he said, winking at Kristina.

"Do the folks here know that smoking is bad for their health?" Kristina asked Werrien as they walked on.

Werrien looked a little surprised. "The dwarfs claim the stuff they smoke, called
Woolis grass,
is actually good for them and supposedly gives them stamina. Some of the dwarfs swear it makes their beards grow softer and faster."

"Well, where I come from, smoking is really bad. People die from it if they smoke too long or too often."

The teens turned right, down a narrow alley that was even darker than the street they had just been on. Then they took a left, down a narrower alley, and as they walked side by side, their shoulders at times scraped the stucco buildings on either side of them. They came to a mustard-colored building with a dark-red door that had an arched top. About a third of the way down from the top of the door was a black cast-iron door knocker in the shape of dolphin's face. It was holding a ring—the knocker—in its beak. Werrien took hold of the ring and banged it on the door a few times.

Kristina felt the stone around her neck heat up, and at the same time, she felt a sharp pain where earlier she had noticed the sore on her leg. "Whose house is this?" she asked, with her arms crossed and biting her bottom lip to dull the pain.

Werrien smiled curiously at Kristina. "You're not nervous, are you?" he teased. Kristina didn't answer but only stared ahead at the door knocker, wondering what color the stone around her neck was turning this time. "This is Zalya's house, and she's one of the nicest gnomes you'll ever meet."

"I'm not nervous to meet her," Kristina said as the door suddenly burst open. A stocky, middle-aged gnome woman with bright green eyes and a great big smile on her face stood in the doorway. Kristina couldn't help but run her eyes over the woman's colorful outfit. It consisted of a multicolored striped head scarf that held her wiry red hair out of her face; dangling earrings that resembled miniature chandeliers hanging from her pointy ears; a baggy, olive-green, shimmering shirt, tied down with a dark green scarf-belt. Making its way down to her large-boned ankles, was a mauve-colored flowing skirt. And on her large, wide feet, she wore a pair of chunky brown leather sandals.

Kristina gazed down at the gnome woman's feet and counted eight toe rings, one on each of her toes, except for her two big toes.

"Werrien!" the gnome woman said. "Get yourself in here!" Werrien stepped into the clay-tiled entryway, and Kristina followed him. "It's so good to see you, boy!" the gnome woman held her baggy-sleeved arms open to him.

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