by Archer Swift
Chapter 10
“Well, that’s just the thing,” Nadalie’s lips tightened into a tense line again. “With all that’s happened in the last day, she wanted you to know how she feels, but with Ruzzell watching her like a manic Raptor, she asked me to give you the pendant. As a promise.”
“A promise? I still don’t understand.” Maybe I did, but I didn’t want to assume anything. Dad used to joke: “If you assume, you make an ass out of you and me.”
“Rist, are you so clueless?” Her smile returned suddenly, her sky-blue eyes dancing, catching me off guard.
I took a careful breath. “Clueless?”
“She’s … she’s…” Nadalie’s eyebrows arched. “Oh, come on. You don’t know?”
“Nadalie, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” I needed to hear it. No guessing, no games.
“You’re wonderful you know that.” Her smile looked genuine. The comment didn’t seem sarcastic, but I was completely befuddled.
Will I ever understand women?
“Keep safe,” she continued, “and chat to her when we get to the Gathering Place. You know, where we can get lost in the crowd.”
I was stumped. Her group was ready to go. Eighteen-year-old Satoru, irritable as usual, signalled her over with a scowl.
Nadalie stepped towards me, stood on her toes and kissed me lightly on my cheek, my scarred cheek. I thought I was going to faint as heat rushed into my face.
“That’s a thank you from me too … we feel completely safe around you. If Gels wasn’t like a sister to me, I’d…” She didn’t finish her sentence, but a cheeky glow spread across her face—her blue eyes mesmerising; her petite features radiant.
“Nadalie!” said Satoru, his angulated eyes narrowed in agitation. “Come, girlie! Move your butt. We’ve got to go. Like already!”
“Just chill out, man-child!” Nadalie snapped back before giving me a wink; then she turned to join her group, and together they left in haste, the dense jungle gobbling them up whole.
“Come, Risto … let’s get ready to rumble.” Dixan’s voice broke my daze.
I puffed out my cheeks, and opened my hand. A small but beautiful heart-shaped pendant sat in my palm—and as if magically connected to my heart by some mystical string, it tugged gently on my soul. My addled brain spun. I couldn’t string one rational thought to another.
“Bro, come … we’ve got to make tracks!”
I put the pendant in the pocket of my pants, into the secret pouch I’d made inside the pocket … where I kept the only thing I had from my mother. It was the third and final piece of my family inheritance, her diamond wedding ring.
