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Uriel could hear her sniffles and broken sobs. A hand gripped his heart as he groped for his friend in the dark. Why was is so dark? The scent of salt and spoiling meat was evident in the air, making it a challenge to breathe. Wait. There was a tsunami thirteen years ago...and he was trapped in a storage room with Joline. They were only six-year-olds then. He felt the walls. Yes, this was a closet where Healer Vera kept her spices. This was nothing but a dream. Pain forced him to stumble back, as he hopped around on one foot to nurse the other. If this was a dream, why did the shards of glass feel so real? Joline screamed when he stumbled over her small body, which was huddled in a corner.
“Calm down, it’s me!” Uriel heard himself say as he knelt next to her.
Two small hands touched his face and Joline sniffed.
“U...riel?”
“That’s right,” he replied brightly, clasping her hands with his. He grinned at her, even though she couldn’t see it in the pitch-black room.
“Uriel, I’m scared,” Joline whimpered. “They’re going to get me...I’ve been good too...really.”
“No one’s going to hurt you,” he replied, hugging her quivering form. “I promise.”
“But the dark shadows...” Joline whispered only to falter when a rumble began to climb from the ground. “Uriel!” she cried, flinging her arms around him.
“It’s an aftershock, Joline...don’t be afraid.” The stool next to them slid away from them as the closet began to shake, nearly throwing them up like toys on a blanket. Something struck the door from the outside as the room jerked to and fro. Jars from the shelves shattered on the floor. Uriel tightened his embrace, protecting Joline’s head with his own. He clamped his eyes shut when he heard the shelves above them groan. “Don’t be afraid...I promise...I won’t let anything happen to you!”
He winced as he felt something constrict his chest. His hand brushed the white bindings before his own fear dawned on him. Who took care of him last night?
Pouring cold water into the basin, he scrubbed the fear-sweat off his face. He looked down at his own reflection and trembled. Uriel could only hope it was Kasha...what would happen if Joline found out?
“Which mage turn you into a boy?”
Uriel swung around quickly, knocking down the basin from the stool. He hastily tried to grab it, but the basin struck his feet anyways. Biting hard on his lower lip, he humbly set the washbasin back and hunted for a rag under his bed.
“Clumsy,” Vera said, snickering as she waved him back. “Sit on the bed, I’ll clean this up.”
He swallowed. Healer Vera? The small, beady-eyed woman was infamous for her sharp tongue and poisonous remarks. Vera had always elucidated her rules extremely well: no one in the temple dared to break them.
“Healer Vera, I can explain...”
“I said sit down, you’re in my way,” the healer said, not unkindly.
Uriel quickly sat.
“Somehow I always knew you were different,” Vera said briskly. “Beta knows how you remained as you are.”
He shifted uncomfortably in his seat. How did Vera suspect...
“No stomachaches, no willow tea...nothing. Only a blind rat wouldn’t look back twice,” the woman continued.
“Healer, you wouldn’t tell would you?”
“Alpha and Beta strike me dead if I lie,” Vera snapped. “You’d see me eating bile before I’d tell a living soul, boy.”
Uriel didn’t know Vera’s gods well, but he trusted Vera’s words. He looked down at his own hands as the awkward silence drew longer.
“I...er....feel better.”
“Of course you feel better! I was the one with the thread and needle, stitching up your wound!” Vera replied briskly. She gestured at the clothes left at the foot of the bed. “If you ain’t complaining about your foot, you can work. I want to see my reflection on them plates. If I see one smudge un-smudged, I’ll come hunting your behind, with the worst punishment I can think of at hand.” She grinned viciously. “And believe me my pretty boy, I come up with good ones.”
“We have nothing,” Joline muttered. “We are no threat, why would monsters come here?”
“Oh, but maybe we do have something valuable,” a disciple said nasally. “This city isn’t sacred only because of the temples, right?”
“Then again Kedith, it may mean nothing,” Uriel said after Joline threw an ugly glare at the other girl. “Perhaps it was lost.”
But Joline looked unsure as she picked up a plate. Uriel ignored the silence as busied himself with silverware. It wasn’t until he heard a strangled gasp and the sharp clang of a broken dish did he break away from his daydream. Joline clumsily picked up the remains of the plate with her hands. She brushed Uriel’s hand away .
“You’ll get your hands dirty, I’ll handle this,” Joline said lamely.
“Boy are you clumsy,” Kedith jeered.
Joline hesitated to pick up the last shard, her shoulders suddenly rigid. “I’m not feeling well,” she said sharply then stormed out of the kitchen.
“Why did you say that?” Uriel inquired angrily. “It was only an accident.”
“I’m sure it is,” Kedith said casually as she continued to dry the dishes. “She had these spells before. They always happen when people talk about magic, immortals, or.” the girl smirked. “the dark.”
“This is punishment for not bringing those herbs home, isn’t it?” Uriel muttered bitterly, thinking if the heated bargaining common in the market.
Vera laughed, whisking him off with a threatening broom.
The immense market was compacted with farmers, traders, merchants, and shoppers. Dodging angry conversations and running children, Uriel headed for an isolated shop at the edge of the busy street. Reaching it, he inhaled the mingled odors of stew, spices, and charcoal. Mouth watering, he carried Vera’s list inside.
When he left, he was forced to carry a box of centella back for Vera. As he shifted the box of herbs in his arms, someone ran into him. He fumbled with his package, trying to save it from the oblivious crowd of people.
“Girl, can you tell me where the Fisherman’s Wharf is?” the stranger asked quickly, his breath ragged.
Uriel muttered darkly, hugging the box to his chest.
“It’s near the port. Just walk to the end of the market and turn right, ten-minute walk afterwards,” Uriel replied, trying to hide the hint of disgust in his voice.
Without another word, the lost man shoved his way through the crowd of townspeople. Scowling, Uriel walked back to the temple. As he entered, a thought struck him. Where was the black gelding, which brought him to safety last night? The next second, he turned back to the street. Wasn’t that the same man, who helped him yesterday?
“Uriel, you’re back!” Joline called cheerfully, shoving a broom into his arms. “I don’t care about flab anymore, sweeping annoys me.”
He grabbed Joline’s arm. “Where’s that horse? The horse....”
She smiled wryly. “So you do remember. I took it to Fisherman’s Wharf last night. We didn’t have vacant stables...Uriel. you’re hurting me,” she said, trying to pry his hand off.
Uriel released her, mumbling an apology. Well at least he didn’t need to worry about the horse anymore. Still...he never got a good look of the stranger...whoever he was.
A/N: Thanks Kalissan, foxdance, Enray, and Mintelwerke for noticing my errors. I'll improve, hopefully. hehe. But thanks really.
Ergh, writing this chapter was like pulling teeth. I got bored! Especially toward the end. You can see me just avoiding descriptions and stuff. Can you find the beginning of the train wreck?jk. Well, I'll try better next time. Until then, thanks for your support!
