by Kay L. Ling
The gnome looked surprised. “Yes, we’re brothers.”
Elias caught Jules’s eye and gave him a smile that said, “Just as I thought.” He folded his hands on the table and continued to question the gnome. “Are you related to Raenihel from the Anen clan?”
Shezek shook his head. “No relation.”
“I would like to try one more test.” Elias habitually wore chains with pendants around his neck, and he removed one and handed it to Markopin. “Hold the gem and tell me if you feel anything.”
The gnome closed his hand around the amber-colored gem. A few suspenseful seconds passed. “It feels warm and makes my palm tingle,” he announced, looking rather pleased with himself.
“Good,” Elias said. “Any other sensations? Something not related to your hand. Such as an emotion?”
“Yes, err . . . I think so.”
“What do you feel?”
“I feel happy . . . optimistic.” He opened his hand and looked at the gem. “Before, I felt worried and depressed.”
“Are you familiar with phorish?”
“Yes. It’s called ‘happy stone,’ isn’t it?”
“That’s right. Have you held it before?”
The gnome hesitated. “Yes, pieces of rough, never a finished gem.”
“Most isn’t gem grade, although that shouldn’t make any difference. When you held it before, what did you feel?”
Markopin said, “Nothing. I thought the name came from its color. I didn’t expect to feel happy.”
“Markopin, you’re making a mess of my theories,” Jules groaned, leaning back in his chair.
“Mine, as well,” Elias admitted. “Concentrate on the stone. Try to draw more energy from it and see if it heightens your emotions.”
Everyone watched hopefully.
“No change,” he said, looking disappointed.
“Let your brother try.”
Markopin handed Shezek the pendant. “You’ve always been fascinated with gems. Good luck.”
Shezek reported, “It’s warm, and I’m feeling lighthearted, like a weight was lifted off me.” His brow creased as he concentrated. “I’m trying to draw more power and I think it’s working.” He broke into a broad smile. “I feel almost giddy!”
“I’ll take the phorish now before you don’t wish to give it back,” Elias said with a chuckle. He slipped the chain over his head. “Well, Jules, this has been quite enlightening.”
Jules shook his head slowly. “Enlightening—mystifying is more like it.”
Elias looked around the table. “The other day we learned something that took us by surprise. Raenihel, the leader of the Anen clan, used the Challenger’s blade to kill a pythanium. According to Lana, the glowing blade pulsed and hypnotized the creature, allowing him to kill it. Naturally, we were astonished since it takes gem powers to active the knife.”
“But gnomes don’t have gem powers,” Markopin protested.
Elias looked amused. “Apparently, some do—you, for one. Why else would the blade glow for you?”
Jules was still confused. None of this made sense. “Why didn’t Markopin feel anything the other times he had held phorish?”
“I don’t understand that, either,” Elias admitted. “Either he has gem powers, or he doesn’t. Powers don’t come and go.”
“What about you, Shezek?” Jules asked. “Before today, have gems ever felt warm to you?”
“Never,” the gnome said, looking as confused as Jules felt.
“So, this is new to both of them,” Jules said to Elias, trying to come up with a theory. “If all gnomes suddenly had gem powers, I’d say Sheamathan had blocked their powers all these years, but some gnomes have powers and others don’t, so it can’t be that.”
“Not so fast. I think you’re missing something,” Elias countered. “What if gem powers are a rare inherited trait, as with humans. Markopin and Shezek are the only ones here with the gift, and they’re brothers. Your theory could still be true.”
Jules gave Elias a doubtful look. “The more I think about it, it seems unlikely she could block their powers throughout Shadow. That would take a very powerful spell.”
“I have a question,” one of the gnomes broke in. “You said Raenihel used the knife, but you didn’t say how long ago. Was it before or after you defeated Sheamathan?”
Elias paused to think and then slapped his hand on the table. “Before! You’re right, I didn’t think about that. If Raenihel could use the knife before Sheamathan lost her powers, the theory doesn’t hold up.”
“So, if their powers weren’t blocked, how else can we explain it?” Jules asked. As he looked at his knife, a new theory began to form. It seemed a bit farfetched, but maybe there was something to it. “Could it be something about my knife? It seems they didn’t have any powers until they held it.”
“I think Jules is onto something,” Shezek said slowly. “Until today, when Markopin and I held gems, we didn’t feel anything. If it isn’t because our powers were blocked, then maybe we had latent abilities, and something about the knife awakened them.”
“It’s an interesting theory,” Elias conceded, “but how do we prove it?”
Shezek said, “Have someone hold the phorish first, and then the knife.”
Elias nodded. “Good thinking. If the phorish only reacts after holding the knife, then the knife must be the activator.”
“We’ve run out of test subjects,” Jules said.
“We’ll help you find more,” one of the gnomes said. “We’re all curious now.”
Jules ran his fingers thoughtfully over the knife’s gem-encrusted hilt. “If the knife really is the key, how do you suppose it activates latent powers?”
Elias said, “The gems infused in the blade combined with the gems in the hilt give your knife exceptional power. But exceptional power might not be necessary. One particular gem, or a combination of gems, might be all it takes.”
One of the gnomes asked, “Are all the gems in the knife from the Fair Lands?”
Elias looked at the knife as if seeing it for the first time. He sat forward in his chair. “Yes, they’re all Fair Lands gems, but three are also found in Shadow, although they’re rare here: malachite, jasper, and chalcedony.
“We can’t test every gnome in Shadow with my knife,” Jules said. “We need to figure out what caused Markopin and Shezek’s powers.”
“We’ll run tests using various gems until we find an answer,” Elias promised.
“Lana may have some ideas,” Jules said. “I’ll be seeing her tomorrow.” He touched his injured arm and winced. “Unless I kill myself first, trying to get into the armory.”
Chapter 10
A light coating of snow frosted tree limbs and blanketed the ground in County Forest Park. The air was crisp and smelled faintly of pine needles and decaying leaves. As Lana and Franklin walked to the portal, leaves crunched under their feet, and every gust of wind dislodged dried leaves that had been clinging to the branches.
“The forest looks healthier under a layer of snow,” Lana said.
The wind ruffled Franklin’s hair, and he shoved his hands into his coat pockets. “Maybe by spring everything will be back to normal.”
“I hope so. Elias thinks the Amulet can heal the forest, and we won’t need gem powers to do it.”
“What about Shadow? They don’t have an Amulet. Can the land go back to normal on its own?”
“We’re not sure. If we don’t see progress in a few months, we’ll try to find gems that can jumpstart the process.”
They left the trail. Lana knew the best shortcuts to the portal by now, and once they passed the beech grove, her heart beat faster. She could hardly wait to see Jules and take him back to her place. She loved having him on her own turf and watching his reactions to things she took for granted. So many things seemed like magic to him—cellphones, computers, television, even the vacuum cleaner and her automatic coffeemaker. She smiled to herself. The poor man had never tasted pi
zza.
As she looked through the trees, she glimpsed Jules’s tall, muscular form. What was he wearing? Another of Elias’s hand-me-down outfits no doubt—tan pants and a plaid flannel shirt. He must be freezing without a coat. According to Elias, Shadow had a temperate climate with warm days and chilly evenings, and it never snowed. If Jules spent any amount of time here, he’d need a new wardrobe. She could get him clothes for pennies on the dollar at the local thrift store, but knowing him, he’d still object to her paying, and he didn’t have any money.
“Lana! Franklin!” Jules called, hurrying to meet them.
Jules hadn’t been expecting Franklin, but looked delighted to see him. He grasped Franklin’s hand, and Franklin gave him a friendly thump on the back and said, “You’ll catch your death, man! Where’s your coat?”
“I’m afraid I don’t have one. My wardrobe is painfully limited.”
“I know what that’s like.” Franklin’s smile faded. “My brother-in-law gave me a few of his things. I don’t like handouts, but I had no choice.”
They cut through the woods toward the parking lot with Lana leading the way.
“How are things going so far?” Jules asked him.
“Not well,” Franklin said in a dreary tone. “Actually, I planned to talk to you about that. I’d like to come back to Shadow. Permanently.”
“Are you serious?”
“I’m afraid so. Going home and starting over—it wasn’t as easy as I thought.”
“But your family, they—”
“Trust me, they won’t miss me. It’s a long story and I’ll tell you everything later, but I don’t want to ruin our night with depressing news.”
Lana called back to him, “Don’t be silly. We’re your friends. Vent if you need to.” Her only concern was that Franklin’s struggles would discourage Jules, making him less inclined to leave Shadow. If Franklin, who had been gone twenty-five years couldn’t make a go of it, how would Jules who had been away for over a century?
“So, what’s new in Shadow?” Franklin asked, clearly wanting to shift the conversation away from himself.
Jules gave a short laugh. “I thought you wanted to avoid unpleasant topics.”
“Is Sheamathan giving you trouble?”
“You could say that. We keep stumbling across wards and booby traps, but our biggest problem is the breghlin.”
“The breghlin?” Lana asked in surprise, looking over her shoulder. “What’s wrong?”
“Miners have walked off the job at Six Wells. Roving bands are fighting each other and attacking the gnomes. It’s too soon to know if this mutinous trend will become widespread, but we’re afraid it might.”
“Looks like you could use another hand at Shadowglade,” Franklin said, “and maybe a few high power rifles.”
“We’ve already talked about that,” Lana said hastily. “We’ll use gem powers if we have to, but weapons from our world are definitely out.”
“You’re no fun,” Franklin protested. “Why can’t we use guns?”
Jules wouldn’t get the joke, but Franklin would. Lana turned and said in her most serious tone, “It violates the Prime Directive.”
They arrived at Lana’s apartment ahead of the pizza delivery boy, and Lana set out plates, napkins, flatware, and cans of fruit juice and soda. The kitchen table was too small to seat all her guests, so they’d eat in the living room and she’d use the table for drinks and the counter as a buffet.
When the food arrived, Jules and Franklin put chicken wings on a platter while she made up a veggie tray. Everything was ready at five when Greg and Jordy showed up.
“You haven’t met Franklin,” she told the boys as they followed her into the kitchen. “Franklin, I’d like you to meet Jordy and Greg, affectionately known as the Rat Boys. I rescued them from Shadow and brought them here, and Elias restored them.”
“I heard about that. Nice to meet you,” Franklin said. He gave the boys a broad smile.
Now that Greg and Jordy weren’t living here, she could honestly say she had enjoyed their company, but hiding two enchanted rats from her landlady was an experience she didn’t care to repeat. “S turned Franklin into a giant bird, so he knows what it’s like to be enchanted. And he helped us defeat S. The day we tricked her into losing her powers, she was holding Elias at knifepoint and almost killed him, but Franklin swooped in and attacked her.”
“Wow,” Greg said, “I wish I could’ve seen that!” The lanky redhead reached out to shake Franklin’s hand. “It’s an honor to meet you.”
Jordy mumbled, “Hi. Nice to meetcha,” and started piling food onto his plate. Maybe he felt awkward around a true hero.
“How long were you enchanted?” Greg asked Franklin.
“Twenty-five years.”
Greg shook his head in amazement. “Twenty-five years! I can’t imagine being stuck in Shadow that long, especially as a bird.”
“Me either,” Jordy said, starting to warm to the conversation. “But being a bird has to be better than being a rat.”
Greg said, “All I know is, if I ever get back to Shadow, I’m gonna chase her around her cage with a stick and poke her till she screams.”
Jordy snapped a piece of celery in two and grinned wickedly. “Yeah, or stick a burning candle through the bars and drip hot wax on her.”
Lana supposed she should reprimand them, but quite honestly, she had envisioned doing similar things herself. She glanced at Jules. He was trying unsuccessfully to keep a straight face.
“So, you lived with Lana for a while,” Franklin said, steering the subject away from torture.
Greg nodded. “Yeah, it was cool living here. She taught us about gems. I wish we had gem powers,” he added wistfully.
“I don’t have gem powers, either, but it’s good to know about gems and what they can do,” Franklin said.
Lana said, “The boys identified a stone I found in the Amulet. I had no idea what it was, but they told me it was alamaria and S was mining it.” She laid a hand on Greg’s arm. “Make yourselves comfortable, guys. You can take your plates into the living room. I set up a couple folding chairs, so there should be enough seats.”
“Okay, thanks.”
Lana watched them discretely from the kitchen. A few weeks ago, they’d been eating rat chow and table scraps. Now, they were eating pizza and chicken wings. Thank goodness they were normal teenage boys again. She filled a plate for herself and grabbed a can of Coke.
“I see why you like this,” Jules said, holding up a slice of pizza. “I could eat it every day.”
“I miss this kind of food,” Franklin said, leaning against the counter and dipping vegetables in blue cheese, “but not enough to stay here.” He looked up and gave Lana an apologetic smile. “Sorry. I’m being gloomy again.” He took his plate and carried it into the living room.
Lana and Jules claimed the couch.
“So, when we talked on the phone,” she said to the boys, “you said you were in trouble for running away from home.”
Greg nodded and reached for another chicken wing. “We’ll probably be in counseling till we’re your age.” He blushed. “Not that you’re old or anything.”
Lana smiled. “You told your parents I had met you guys while you were living on the streets in New York City, and I sent you home on a bus.”
Jordy licked blue cheese from his fingers. “Right. We told our parents we slept in shelters and hung out with street artists in Time Square. My brother’s friend does that. Artists can set up tables for free and sell their work there, so since I’m kind of an artist myself, that sounded like a good story. We said I was selling chalk drawings of local country landscapes and village scenes.”
“And that’s how we ran into you,” Greg cut in. “You were sightseeing in Times Square, and when you stopped to look at Jordy’s work, you recognized this village.”
Their story impressed Lana, and not just because it was clever; she had a hard time imagining Jordy as an artist. She gave the
stocky, dark-haired boy an appraising look. Maybe he got into trouble because he was creative and had no outlet for his talents.
“Jordy’s a great artist,” Greg announced. “Most of the fights with his parents are because his dad wants him to go to college for something boring like accounting. He wants to go to art school.”
It was nice to hear Greg compliment Jordy. As rats, they had habitually bickered and insulted each other, although she knew they didn’t mean half the things they said.
“Mom is on my side,” Jordy said. “Not that it matters. My dad calls the shots, at least when it comes to money. They fight about money all the time. They’ve been separated more times than I can count, but after a few months they always get back together.”
“His parents like to fight,” Greg said with a look that said he’d never understand it. “Not mine. Mine divorced when I was ten.”
“You live with your mom?” Lana asked.
He nodded. “But I spend most weekends with Dad.”
“Sorry to hear your parents split up,” Lana said. “And Jordy, I can’t imagine living in a home where you don’t know from one day to the next if one of your parents will walk out.”
“Things are a lot better since I came back,” Jordy said. “Either my parents don’t argue as much, or they don’t do it around me. They still make me mad sometimes, but I just shrug it off. I guess we’ve all changed. They say I’m a lot easier to get along with now.”
“Same here,” Greg said. “My mom says I’m a lot more considerate. I even keep my room clean.” He paused and gulped his soda. “Most of the time we get along. Like, I would never really run away from home, but what else could we say?”
Jordy frowned. “So, now our parents are on a guilt trip, figuring they failed us somehow.”
“There’s a lot of talk at school about us running away,” Greg said, reaching for an extra napkin. “Some kids can be really mean. And it won’t end in June. We have to repeat our senior year.”