by Scott Moore
The guard fumbled and flirted with a clumsy manner. Malik couldn’t fault him, Mollie was a beautiful woman. Malik also had very little room to judge him for his stuttering attempt.
“I appreciate that,” Mollie smiled back at him.
It was an act from Mollie. Malik wondered where she got the energy to pretend. They hadn’t spoken a word throughout the entire night. They had walked in complete silence, aside from the curses as the branches cut their arms to ribbons.
“I mean to see you play that is,” the guard said, catching that he sounded like a bumbling idiot.
“Of course.” Mollie flipped her hair.
Malik looked away. On either side of the sloping road were businesses of different varieties and behind those were houses stacked almost atop one another. Each home looked the same as the one next to it, down to the color on the window frames. Each home even had its own small pine tree adjacent their walking path. This village respected conformity.
Malik turned back to the conversation, hoping that it was about over and that they would be free to walk into the village soon. He tired of standing. His feet throbbed every second he stood there.
“Just straight up the road then,” the guard said when Malik focused again.
He was glad to see the guard stepping out of the way, waving them past and into the village.
“That was embarrassing,” Malik said when they were out of ear shot.
Mollie cut her eyes. “You are never pleased by anything are you?”
Malik wasn’t sure what there was to be pleased about at a time like this. “Sorry I just watched a village burn and my friend taken by the Tempre Warriors. Maybe you have heard of them?”
Malik felt bad for attacking Mollie, but the words were out. That was a lesson Abrie had taught him. Own what you say and mend it when you can. Malik wouldn’t mend anything. Mollie would get over it or she wouldn’t, he had trouble focusing on her feelings.
Mollie didn’t reply. The silent game was second nature to her. Malik was fine with that. He wanted nothing more than to get to the inn. Then he would find a bed, or even a dry straw patch and he would fall into a slumber that he hoped to never wake up from.
First, he had to make it down the slope. The road was the ultimate test in calf muscle endurance. What the villagers made look easy at a stroll, was a labor of not falling backward. Malik thought about stopping for a brief rest several times. He would have done it too if he had been alone, but he was not alone, and Mollie walked without pause. So, Malik walked alongside her, complaining in his mind with every single step.
A cat shot from a nearby shop, threatening to take out Malik’s legs, and a woman poked her head from the shop’s window.
“Sorry, Mele is a firecracker.”
Malik gave a half smile. Before they could make it another three steps, a red headed, light-skinned young man shot out of the shop behind the cat. He didn’t make it but a few strides before he bit the dust in front of Malik’s feet.
Malik looked down at him. On a normal day, Malik would have had a laugh, today Malik didn’t feel like being happy. The boy looked up, dusting the dirt from his lips.
“Sorry about that.”
Malik shrugged. “No harm.”
The boy pushed himself up. “Mother hates when the cat runs away.”
Malik figured the mother wouldn’t make it a point to run after the cat herself. Not with a gullible son to do it for her.
“Well he shot off toward the inn.”
“Cat likes it down there, is a bit of an attention seeker.”
“Awesome.” Malik started walking away.
The boy fell into line with them without an invitation to do so. Malik figured he was the lonely type; a young man who got cooped up inside a small shop with his mother for most of his waking life. Malik didn’t envy the position. However, at least the boy didn’t have to worry about the likes of Sweet Tongue and people like Zimbre.
“My name is Khris. If you were interested.”
Malik gave the half smile he had reserved for Khris’ mother earlier.
“I am Mollie and the charming young man beside you is Malik. He isn’t always a jerk, just most of the time.”
Malik figured he deserved that one. Sometimes he couldn’t control his own foolish reactions. Today, he found it even more difficult to stay focused on other people and their feelings or problems.
At the tavern entrance, the road evened out and Malik’s calves thanked the Holy Saints.
“Have you been to Twin Rocks before?” Khris asked them, sounding hopeful that he would get to teach them something.
“Never,” Malik said.
Khris pressed open the door to the Rock House. Malik had been to hundreds of inns throughout his life. Abrie had him playing at inns before he was old enough to understand the allure. The Rock House Tavern differed from other inns he had seen. In the corner, to Malik’s left was a filled tub of water, which steamed from the heat. Next to it was a rack for towels and drink holders.
“That is what Vee calls the hot tub. It’s good for relaxing your bones after a long day. She says it works because of the underground water springs Twin Rocks was built over. Her great grandfather picked this spot for the inn over a hundred years ago because of the springs. The building has been rebuilt twice since her grandfather, but the hot springs are still very active.”
Malik found it interesting that anyone would want to bathe in the middle of a room of other people, but he kept his questions to himself. He wasn’t interested in getting an entire novel of answers from Khris.
Malik walked down the three carpet lined steps onto the hardwood floors. He noticed that unlike most inns throughout the country of Luberg, the seats were booths and not tables. Each booth was a dark green with white buttons. The tabletops were in pristine condition, shining a dull yellow. Everything seemed so much more personal with the proximity of the booth seating. Malik walked up to the bar, this was at least normal.
“I will have a water,” Malik said.
The woman behind the bar stopped counting something she had written in her book. She looked to him, then to Mollie, and to Khris.
“Cat get away again, boy?”
“I believe by now that he is more your cat than ours. He uses us for food and a warm hearth during the winter months.”
“Yes, well he loves the scraps he finds in the kitchens. That and I believe he has gotten quite the fancy for licking up the remnants after the fellows head home for the evening.”
“This is Vee, owner of the Rock House,” Khris said. He looked to Vee and then back to Malik and Mollie. “My friends here are Malik and Mollie.”
“Friends is somewhat overzealous,” Malik said under his breath.
Mollie hit him in the ribs with her knuckles. When had she become a saint?
“Well it’s good to have new visitors to the village. We have some of the most illustrious history in all of Luberg.”
Malik wished that everyone here would stop trying to get him to care about their history.
“This tavern has been with my family for near two hundred years. Although, it wasn’t always so illustrious.”
Malik tried to keep from rolling his eyes. He just wanted a drink and some peace and quiet. Maybe then he could process what he had seen the night before. He had gotten far enough the night before that he had not had to smell any burning flesh. Maybe everyone had gotten to safety somehow. Even then, they would have lost everything they owned.
“Can I get that water?” Malik asked. He had not even bothered to see if Vee finished with her story. He had tuned her out, and it mattered little.
Vee used the end of her writing utensil to tap the book she had been hovering. “Rude, your friend is,” she said to Mollie, not bothering to look over at him.
Malik wished that everyone would quit being sensitive. He just wanted them to do what they had set out to do. He wanted Vee to serve, like her great grandfather had intended when he opened this place at the beginning
of time.
Vee rummaged behind the bar. She pulled a clear, thick glass mug from the hanging hooks above her head. She brought it down, giving it a quick swipe with the towel around her waist. A few seconds later she slid him a mug.
Malik felt very thankful. He was thankful that Sweet Tongue hadn’t yet killed them. He tried to forget the pain that Abrie had to be feeling at the moment.
“My friend and I have come from Opallum. We heard that there have been people coming through here from our country the last few days,” Mollie said.
Malik noticed that she had somehow gotten a drink without having to ask. She was the regular people pleaser today, Malik thought.
“Mercenaries from Opallum,” Khris said. “Mom claims that they are coming for a tournament in the courtyard of King Bently. I figure it is more accurate that the Tempre are here for another reason. Luberg harbors much better things than the courtyards of Gray Waters. I figure the Tempre are after something a little more special.”
Vee scoffed. “You spend too much time cooped up in that cabin reading books.”
Khris pulled a seat up next to the bar. Vee pointed toward the glasses above her head, Khris shook his head.
“I only spend a lot of time in there because the books are fascinating. They tell the story of almost everything that has ever happened.” Khris turned to Mollie and Malik. “My father was a trader before he broke his leg, leaving him a cripple. Used to bring back hundreds of books for me to read every year, now I am stuck waiting for strangers who have extras.”
“What is it you think the Tempre Warriors are after then?” Mollie asked.
Malik thought the boy read fanciful stories meant for children at bedtime. He doubted he had any real knowledge on the Tempre Warriors. If he did, he would be much more afraid of what they could do.
“Well you see Bently is the first king in almost a century to give his praise to the Tempre. However, he has done so under the pretense that they will be his personal guard. The Tempre have never relegated to mere kingdom guards before and I don’t see them starting that habit now. That means they must want something else to downgrade themselves, right?” Khris grew excited talking about his books.
It got harder to drown Khris out. He kept using that keyword Malik’s brain listened for.
“The Tempre Warriors would only put on the pretense of a tournament if they needed a distraction and a key into Luberg.”
Mollie wiped the spittle off her chin from taking a drink. “What is it you think they want?”
“Well, that is just it. There is only one major legend about Luberg that would interest anyone who believed it was a reality.”
Malik wondered if he would spit it out, or if he would just talk about it forever.
“That would be?” Malik prodded.
Both women shot Malik a look that told him all he needed to know about their feelings toward him at the moment.
“Khris your mother would kill me for letting you talk about this in the tavern,” Vee said.
Khris looked downtrodden and dejected.
“You’re right, where did Mom’s cat get off to?” Kris hopped down from the stool without putting up a fight to continue.
Malik hadn’t been interested in the story. At least not until the prospect of Khris not finishing became a strong reality.
“So, you are just going to leave the story at that? Where is the story book ending?” Malik asked.
“Shut up, Malik,” Mollie interjected.
Khris walked around to the end of the bar. He would get his cat and head home it seemed. Malik sipped his water. He should just let him head home. He could go finish up his fantasy books. Malik would go out into the world and do the big boy stuff. He would find Sweet Tongue and stop him from hurting Abrie. Chills ran down Malik’s spine at the thought of it. He closed his eyes, letting the shame flood him.
“Could you finish the story just this once,” Mollie asked. Malik opened his eyes, seeing Mollie pleading with Vee through her eyes.
Vee was quiet for a few moments, assessing the situation. “I will go get your cat, Khris. You finish before I get back. Then you are back off to the shop. I am sure your mother is already cursing the Saints that you are taking too long.”
Vee took a few more moments, gathering a few of her items from the bar. “Only a few minutes,” she said before disappearing through a swinging door into the back.
Malik saw other workers in the kitchens. He also smelled the food, wondering if Vee liked Khris enough to give him a free meal.
“Okay, well I don’t have much time. So, I will do the brief version of the story. I was helping my mother in the shop about two years ago when my father came home from his last outing. Mother had me replanting flowers, but Father was a good enough reason to stop.” Khris plopped back down onto the barstool.
Malik figured he got cozy for the longest story ever told.
“Father was always one to hold out when he brought me new books. He liked to see me squirm under the anticipation. This time it was different though. He rummaged through his bag before I even reached him at the doorway. He did not ask for a hug or joke that he had brought nothing home with him from his journey. This time he brought out an orange covered book with no writing on the cover or spine.” Khris wrung his hands. Malik figured he was seeing this day as he told the boring story.
“Father thrust the book into my chest. He only said one thing about the book when he gave it to me.” Khris paused catching his breath. “It was these simple words, ‘Read the book and see the world for what it is; incredible.’ I remember snatching the book from my father’s hand, before running to the house. I forgot to replant the plants. I remember that day like it was yesterday. Not only for the book, but because my dad was home every day from that day until his last day.” Khris’ eyes dropped to the floor.
“You don’t have to go on if it is not something you want,” Mollie said.
“But I mean if you think you know what will happen, maybe continue,” Malik said.
“Malik that is enough, I know you are hurting, but it is no excuse for continuing to be an ass.”
Malik thought of a retort and swallowed it, seeing that Mollie wasn’t leaving him an opening.
“I will continue,” Khris said. “I just needed a moment, thank you.”
Mollie gave him a friendly smile. Malik wondered where his friendly smile from her was. He was the one who had carried her up a hill. He had been by her side from that day forward. All he got for it was snide remarks and name calling. Malik took another drink. He knew those thoughts weren’t true. Mollie had thanked him for his help. She had also saved his life for his trouble. Still, he felt crummy and needed an outlet for those feelings.
“I took the book back to my room. The shop wasn’t our home. At least not then. We still lived a few streets behind our flower shop. I was alone with just the words printed onto the page. I opened it seeing the title The Crystal Dragon in big bold letters. I was interested in fantasy stories, so I figured this would be right up my alley. The story did turn out to be amazing, but I was not right about the genre of the work. It was not fantasy at all. About ten pages into the story that was crystal clear, if I can use a play on words.” Khris paused again.
Malik figured he waited for a chuckle, but one never followed.
“The legend of the Crystal Dragon started before Luberg was a country. No one knew what they called this land before it became Luberg, but they agree it was not Luberg. It is important to note that no human roamed what would later come to Luberg for another hundred years. When they did, they would come face to face with monsters much bigger than men. Monsters coated in black, striped with white, and impossible to catch or tame.”
Malik choked. He wiped the front of his chin with the back of his forearm.
“Are you okay?” Khris asked him.
Malik was fine. At least he would live. What he was more worried about was the fact that Khris seemed to be talking about the monsters they had seen
three times now.
“I am fine. What did you mean about monsters?” Malik asked. He didn’t have to fake interest.
Mollie, who had turned to scold him, saw the importance as her face changed to concern.
“It says that once the monsters become trapped, they fade to nothing. They can be killed by extreme force. However, they dissipate into nothing, floating away on the wind. It is unknown if they die at all.” Khris leaned forward. “Do you know of these creatures?”
Excitement came to a peak. Malik wasn’t so sure he would not burst from it.
“We do not,” Mollie answered for Malik.
Malik hadn’t seen a reason to hide the knowledge of the monsters in his grief. Now that Mollie lied, he could see the importance.
“Like she said, we do not. I thought it sounded like an interesting fairy tale,” Malik said.
Khris looked skeptical, but he didn’t express his thoughts.
“Should I continue?”
Malik waved him on.
“The monsters are cool, but that isn’t what the Tempre would be after. However, the closer they get to achieving their goal, the more likely it would be that the monsters started showing up again. The monsters became connected to the item in the legend. The item’s location is unknown during the book’s writing, but the authors say it is powerful.” Khris’ excitement was back tenfold.
Malik thought the kid had to be lonely in a place like this. Storybook characters were his world. Malik could not shake the idea that those monsters he had read about were the same monsters as the one Abrie and Mollie killed and Simbre had captured.
“The item’s capabilities aren’t known. It is just said to have power,” Khris said.
“What do you think the Tempre would want with it?” Mollie asked, sounding unsure.
“To control it,” Khris answered as if the answer had been obvious to anyone who was listening.
“But you don’t know what that something is?” Malik asked.
“I don’t know what that is, but that does not mean they do not know what that is.” Khris grew defensive of his book’s knowledge.