Kristina rolled her eyes. It figures; it's only the creepy dwarf, spying on us.
"My dear boy, your father has been looking for you for the past half hour," Elzwur said.
"What for?" Werrien asked with a slight edge in his tone.
"Werrien, that is none of my business, but I do suggest you make it your business to go to him right away. He did seem quite agitated about something."
"All right, then. Thank you, Elzwur," Werrien said.
Then Elzwur turned on his heel and left.
Werrien placed his mug on the bench beside him and sighed. "I must go and see what it is my father wants," he said to Kristina.
"Of course you must. I'll just watch the trio again," Kristina said enthusiastically, even though she was disappointed that their cozy little visit was interrupted by the irritating dwarf.
They both stood up, and Werrien turned to face her. "Are you sure? I mean, I don't want you to get upset again by their strange songs."
"I'm a big girl, Werrien, and if they do get weird, I'll just take a walk or go to my cabin."
Werrien winked at her. "Thanks for being so easygoing," he said.
"No problem," Kristina said, shrugging her shoulders.
"I'll meet you by the trio as soon as I'm done with my father. I shouldn't be long."
"Sounds good," Kristina said. But as she watched Werrien head off to the midsection of the ship, a nervous ache twitched in her stomach. So many thoughts began piling up in her mind—why was Elzwur so cold toward her? Why had she had such an explicit, heart pounding dream about King Sirus and Queen Navesa? Why did her face look so old in the mirror and then simply go back to normal? Was the old hag that had tried to kill her real or only imaginary? Why had she gotten so sick? Was it due to the food or her just not faring well at sea or perhaps both? I'm really starting to wonder if Elzwur has been slipping something in my food to make me sick, she thought. He seems to always have a smile on his face when something bad has happened to me.
Werrien turned and smiled at her, but Kristina was too deep in her thoughts to notice, and all that she returned to him was a blank expression. Then he turned again, and she watched his tall, slender, muscular stature stride away.
Did King Warren figure out that Werrien was the one who took the Black Shard? Kristina thought while she headed toward the midsection of the ship, where the trio was still feverishly playing their lively tunes. When she reached the trio, and she stood there, taking in the frenzied sight, she suddenly felt a light breeze against her left cheek.
"Hey! How's it going?" a cheery little voice whispered into her ear.
Taken off guard, she flinched and turned her head to see Looper standing on her shoulder. "Oh! Hi, Looper. It's good to see you," she said to the fairy, happy that he had interrupted her worrisome thoughts.
Looper did a little dance, his steps feeling like a piece of yarn dangling on her shoulder.
Kristina took notice that most of the crew members watching the trio were drinking out of large wooden mugs. Some of them were casually conversing, some cackling loudly, and others had their arms around each other and were singing and swaying to and fro to the music. Some slammed their mugs together in merry toasts—and included in one of these cheery, little bundles were Hester and Heerzek. The rest of the crew was still dancing in front of the band and showing no signs of slowing down. Sepel and Davina were among these, and even though the music was very energetic, the two of them were engaged in a very close, slow dance.
Kurdy, still wildly playing his squeeze box, was at the same time dancing happily around in circles, kicking his legs out in front of him, and only stopping briefly every so often to bend down and pick up his mug that was set at his feet. Then he'd take a long swig of it and place it down again, leaving foam to run down the sides of his unshaven face.
One of the crew members, a dwarf with a short black beard and a blue-and-white, striped beanie on his head, danced merrily up to Kristina. "Would my lady give me the pleasure of a dance?" he asked, his smile stretching from one of his pointy ears to the other.
Kristina was not in the mood for dancing, but even so, she couldn't resist this friendly little fellow's huge smile. "Well ... maybe just a short dance," she said, and before she could blink the dwarf whisked her out onto the dance floor. Noticing Werrien was not on the deck, the rest of the dancing crew had a heyday, one after the other, cutting in to dance with Kristina. She danced and danced and was twirled by one dwarf and spun by another gnome. Then she spun to Heerzek, and she landed in a dip in his arms. As she stared up at his face, to her great horror, it was not Heerzek's joyful, lively face that she gazed up into, but instead, an old man with an abhorrent face. He leered lewdly at her with dark, squinty eyes. He bared his teeth like he wanted to bite her head off.
With her heart racing, Kristina jumped to her feet and quickly backed away from what now looked like Heerzek again. Her stomach wrenched with pain, and she clutched her arms tightly around her midsection, panting as she backed away from him.
Heerzek's face paled with worry. "Are you all right, Kristina?" he said, reaching his hand out to help her.
"I'm fine. I'm just a little tired," she said.
Heerzek gently took hold of her arm.
Kristina suddenly felt dizzy again.
"Can I walk my lady back to her cabin to rest a while?" he asked her, looking very concerned.
"Uh ... no, thanks. I'll manage fine," she said politely and stood up straight.
Hester, who had stopped dancing with a gnome as soon as Heerzek had caught Kristina in his arms, now stood panting, looking overheated and perturbed at Heerzek for being so concerned about Kristina.
Feeling nauseated again, Kristina headed toward the stern, to the captain's cabin, hoping she would run into Werrien, on his way back to meet up with her. She finally decided that she would tell Werrien about the horrible visions she had been having. I don't know what he's going to think, but I can't take it anymore. I feel like I'll go insane if I don't tell him. She kept her eyes on the wooden deck and walked briskly. For a brief moment she looked up and caught sight of Elzwur a few yards ahead, standing with his back to her. He was talking with Razkin, and in the midst of their conversation, Elzwur began to laugh. This is the first time I've ever seen Elzwur laugh. Razkin is probably telling him that I'm not feeling well again, and I bet Elzwur is overjoyed with the news.
She continued walking very quietly past them, and neither Razkin nor Elzwur noticed her.
Once she made it to the opening in the deck floor leading down to the lower deck, she climbed down the ladder and headed to King Warren's dining cabin door. She lifted her fist to knock on it, but then hesitated. What am I doing? she thought. What if Werrien's in some heated conversation with his father? I can't just invite myself in.
She heard footsteps coming from up on the main deck, and then, as she turned to look up, she saw Elzwur's shoe stepping down on to the ladder. Fearful he might see her, she glanced around for a place to hide. There was only one spot—behind the ladder. Quickly, she got behind it, just as Elzwur was descending it. When Elzwur reached the bottom of the ladder, he went very quietly to King Warren's cabin door and put his left ear against it. He was facing Kristina, who was crouched behind the narrow ladder. As he stood eavesdropping, his squinty eyes stared directly at her, but it was too dark for him to see her. Kristina watched his face contort into different expressions, ranging from suspicion to surprise and then to what she figured must have been sheer joy, even though she'd never seen Elzwur look joyful.
She tried desperately not to move a muscle. Finally, he took his ear off the door and, seeming in a very buoyant mood, he reached inside his pocket and took something out of it. Whatever it was, it was too small for Kristina to see it. She could only see Elzwur's hand cupped around it. Gazing at it, he chuckled quietly, and then tossed it in the air. Kristina watched it fall but still couldn't tell what it was, though she could see that it was gold and shiny. Elzwur's eyes also traile
d the strange object as it fell toward his open hand, but before he caught it, the servant's cabin door, right next to King Warren's cabin, opened, and Dargin quite suddenly stepped out into the hallway, startling Elzwur. Elzwur jumped, and the object fell to the ground. Kristina watched as it slid across on the floor in the direction the boat was listing. Then it disappeared into the darkness, somewhere at the other end of the narrow hall.
Dargin held the door open. "Ah, Elzwur! Just the one I was going to look for," he said.
Elzwur's eyes nervously scanned the floor in search of the object.
Dargin noticed his apprehension. "Lose something?" Dargin asked curiously.
"What?" Elzwur said.
"Do you need help finding something?" Dargin asked.
Elzwur thought quickly. "No! I just thought that I saw a spider crawl across the floor." He looked at Dargin and made a squeamish face. "One of those large, black creepy-crawlers," he said, wiggling his fingers by his crooked nose. "Sure hope it's not a poisonous one."
Dargin chuckled. "Come now, Elzwur. You should know that there's no need to worry about poisonous spiders. Hasn't been a trace of one since Sentiz disappeared. Anyhow, I'm glad that you're here. I need your help organizing some of the king's itinerary for Tezerel tomorrow."
"Yes, of course," Elzwur said, and he followed Dargin into the servant's cabin.
- 27 -
Margah
For a few minutes, Kristina stayed where she was, crouched behind the narrow ladder. Her legs trembled slightly from having to sit still for so long. She wondered what the object was that now lay somewhere on the floor in the dark hall. Why did Elzwur chuckle, seeming so fascinated with it? And why did he lie to Dargin, telling him he saw a spider instead of what it was he dropped? Whatever that thing was, it's obviously something he doesn't want Dargin to know about—or perhaps anybody, for that matter.
Kristina stood up and made her way out from behind the ladder to King Warren's door. Then, not thinking that she might interrupt Werrien and his father's discussion, she raised her closed fist to knock on the door—but just before her knuckles touched it, she heard Werrien speak, and she slowly lowered her hand.
"There's just got to be a way," Werrien said.
"Son, there's another thing that I haven't told you yet," King Warren said.
At least I'm not the only one keeping secrets, Werrien thought.
"Apparently, Kristina was not the first one chosen to come here from another world."
"Really!" Werrien's tone had a sharp edge to it. "Why have you kept this from me?"
"Let's just say that the information came from the one I couldn't trust."
"Then how do you know if it's even true?"
There was a short pause. Kristina had her ear on the door, the way Elzwur had had his only a few minutes earlier. Come on! Tell him. I can't stand here much longer, she thought.
"Rupert is the one who gave me the information," King Warren said.
"Well, then," Werrien chuckled sarcastically, "we both know that his word is worthless."
"You're right, Werrien! There's a real good chance that what he told me isn't true, but even if there is the slightest chance that it is ..." he let out a discontented sigh, "it would be best to not even take the chance."
Kristina flinched, for she heard Dargin's squeaky laugh from the other side of the servant's cabin door.
"Was he also given a crystal to take him back to where he had come from?" Werrien asked his father.
"Yes, but he decided that he wanted to stay in Tezerel, and so, he took it off, hoping that removing the crystal would enable him to stay indefinitely." Looking worn out, King Warren stared blankly at the table.
"So, what happened?" Werrien asked anxiously.
"Apparently, when he took it off, everything was fine."
"That's good."
King Warren's eyes shifted from the table to Werrien. "At first, anyway," he said.
Kristina heard footsteps on the other side of the servant's cabin door and then she saw the doorknob make a quick twist to the left. She swallowed nervously; her throat was dry, like it was coated in chalk powder. She was expecting the door to open, but it didn't; instead, the knob slowly turned back to its original position. Relieved, she let out a sigh and then quickly made her way back behind the ladder. She crouched down and leaned her head against the outer wall of the king's cabin. Besides the sound of her heart pulsating in her ears, she could hear King Warren and Werrien talking again—this time the voices were clearer than when she had stood at the door. They must be directly on the other side of this wall, she thought.
"Father, tell me what happened to the previous chosen one!" Werrien demanded. But it seemed that King Warren was reluctant to share this information.
"Okay, Werrien, give me a minute. I'm trying to get the story straight in my head. It's been such a long time since I've heard it." King Warren crossed his arms across his chest, and then he began. "It's been said that after Margah—that was the chosen one's name—took off his crystal, he anticipated that something terrible would happen to him—and to the gnomes, dwarfs and fairies—but when nothing did, Margah was filled with relief as well as joy, and so were all the dwellers of Tezerel."
"Why were the gnomes, dwarfs, and fairies so happy?"
"They wanted him to stay because he was said to have been a very kind fellow, and also very handy to have around."
"How so?"
"Well, he was a skilled archer, and he was known to have protected the gnomes and dwarfs when they faced many dangerous situations."
Werrien looked puzzled. "What kind of dangerous situations did the dwarfs and gnomes face back then? I've been led to believe that before Sentiz, there were no villains or traitors, and I know that the gnomes, dwarfs, and fairies get along well with the animals of all our lands, so the animals wouldn't have caused them harm."
The king wrinkled his brow and thought about it. "I don't know," he finally said, slightly flustered. "It's just what Rupert told me. He also said that the dwarfs, gnomes, and fairies adored the chosen one, probably because they were fascinated with someone from a different world who was able to actually live here." The king sighed again and then nervously ran his hand through his salt-and-pepper hair.
"What are you not telling me?" Werrien said suspiciously.
"I'm afraid to say that this story doesn't have a happy ending. Not too long after Margah took off his crystal, the majority of the inhabitants of Tezerel began to get very ill, with chills and flu like symptoms and then they developed horrible sores on their bodies."
"Did they consume the fairy blossom to get rid of the illness?"
"Back then, there was no fairy blossom. The magic herb only came into existence after the fact. It was said to have been the answer to the people who humbled themselves before Yolen, when all hope for healing of the disgusting plague was gone. When the sores had spread from their heads to their toes, the inhabitants cried out to Yolen, and soon after, the fairy blossom began to grow. Did I ever tell you how the magic herb got its name?"
"No," Werrien said, only half paying attention—his mind swarming with multiple thoughts.
"An ill fairy with a diseased wing fell from flight and landed in a patch of the blossoms. As soon as the blossom's pollen coated her wings her wings healed instantly."
"And so the herb was named fairy blossom," Werrien said impatiently, finishing his father's story. "Did the fairy blossom heal the the inhabitants of Tezerel?" Werrien was adamant with his questioning.
"It did heal a great number of them but not all of them. Some of the gnomes and dwarfs became bitter, and they blamed Yolen for their calamity. For these ungrateful ones, the blossoms had no healing effect. Their bodies began to contort, and they developed hunched backs as well as hideous facial features."
"Zelbocks," Werrien said. "So that's how they came into being."
"So legend has it," King Warren said. "I should actually say, so the beginning section of the Book of Prophecy h
as it."
"And of course, the beginning section of the Book of Prophecy just happens to be conveniently missing," Werrien added.
"Unfortunately so."
"What happened to ... what did you say his name was?"
"Margah? He supposedly developed the sores as well."
"Did the fairy blossom heal him?"
"Apparently a gnome woman prepared it in a tea for Margah, but when she brought it to the dwarf's home where he was staying, the dwarf said that Margah had disappeared. After that, he was never seen again."
Werrien looked curiously at his father. "This all sounds really strange."
"Supposedly, it's also written in the Book of Prophecy that once Margah saw what he had caused by taking off the crystal and going against the law of Yolen, he was extremely guilt-ridden. Supposedly, his guilt consumed him, and so he went to the Indra River to drown himself, but while lamenting near its bank, he transformed into a tree." King Warren's blue eyes widened. "Do you remember that large, lumpy tree with its dark, entwining roots exposed above the ground? The one by the Indra River?" he asked his son.
"You mean Old Warts?"
"Yes. That's the name that you gave it when you were very young." A brief smile came to King Warren's face as he thought of Werrien as a small child. Then the smile faded into his former worrisome look. "Old Warts is Margah."
For a short time there was silence. Kristina assumed Werrien was soaking in all he had just learned.
"What I still don't understand is why was there a curse for Margah taking off the crystal to begin with?" Werrien said.
"That I don't know, but what I do know is that the wizards gained their knowledge and wisdom from Yolen and were instructed by the Great Spirit to craft the crystal necklace, bracelet, or whatever the chosen one was given at the time, to take him back to where he originally came from. The wizards must have told Margah that something terrible would happen to him if he took his crystal off."
With her head still leaning against the outer wall of King Warren's cabin and pounding from what she suspected must be an intense migraine headache—the kind her mother sometimes complained about—Kristina envisioned her body covered in open, oozing sores. The enthusiasm she had previously had to tell Werrien about her visions and dreams now drained from her, like water through a sieve. Now, all she wanted to do was go to her cabin, stick her head under her pillow, and try to forget all she had just heard, which seemed even worse to her than the gruesome hag and the other frightful sights she had seen.
The Black Shard Page 17
