The Black Shard (34 page)

Werrien stopped Lisheng, dismounted, and then helped Jabela down from the horse. He took a canteen from the saddlebag, unscrewed its lid, and handed it to Jabela. While the little girl was drinking, Werrien readjusted Lisheng's saddle.

The next thing that Kristina witnessed was so frightful and unexpected. While Werrien was busy adjusting the saddle, the child, Jabela, suddenly metamorphosed into Sentiz.

No! Please! This can't be,
Kristina thought. Sentiz began walking toward Lisheng.

"Lisheng!" Kristina cried out. "You've got to stop her!" But of course, Lisheng couldn't hear Kristina, and regardless, the horse was peacefully dozing off.

Sentiz wasn't going to take any more chances of this horse attacking her, as Taysha had attacked the old hag, so she held out to Lisheng a treat laced with a sleeping potion. Lisheng thought it was Werrien who had offered it to him, and the horse happily ate the treat—and then right away fell into a deep slumber.

Werrien had his back to Sentiz when she approached him. Then with her long red nail, she tapped him on his shoulder. Werrien instantly knew something wasn't right; Jabela was too short to reach his shoulder. He sensed an evil presence, one he knew he had encountered before. As quick as a flash, he drew his knife from its sheath and swung around. Before Sentiz could react, he already had his arm around her neck, and with his other hand, he held the knife's sharp blade at her throat.

"Jabela?" Werrien said in a calm voice, but there was no response. "Jabela!" he said louder. When she wouldn't answer he put pressure on the knife, cutting a little into Sentiz's skin.

"There's no need to be hostile," Sentiz said calmly. "Give the child a little time to come to you."

"If you've laid a finger on her, I swear, I'll slit your gullet right here and now, and drain all the poisonous blood from your pathetic body," Werrien said through clenched teeth. He heard footsteps coming up behind him. "Jabela?" he said. "Come around to this side of me, where I can see you." The footsteps came closer to Werrien— but it was not Jabela. "Heerzek?" Werrien said surprised, yet relieved to see his shamel shipmate.

"What's going on, Werrien?" Heerzek said, looking very concerned.

"As you can see, I'm a little preoccupied. Have you seen a small girl, about seven years old, near here?"

"No, I haven't," Heerzek said, his eyes shifting from Sentiz to Werrien.

"She was with me a few minutes ago, but when I called her, she didn't answer. I think that Sentiz has done something to her." Werrien tightened his grip on Sentiz's neck, causing her to make a choking noise.

"I'll look for her," Heerzek said. As he walked by Werrien, he did something disgraceful—he thrust a small knife into the prince's stomach. He did it so quickly that Werrien hardly felt it as it pierced through him. "There is no Jabela, you fool!" Heerzek hissed. "Sentiz knew you were a pushover for children. With a little help from black magic, it was the perfect disguise for her."

Shocked, Werrien's eyes grew wide. He could feel his warm blood seeping out of his abdomen. He stared at Heerzek, hardly believing what had just taken place. He knew he couldn't hold Sentiz much longer, so he made a quick yet accurate slice across her throat and then pushed her to the ground. He placed his hands on his blood-soaked shirt where the knife had pierced him. Disheartened and confused, Werrien fell to his knees, asking, "Why, Heerzek?"

Heerzek stood next to him. "Everything
you
have has been handed to you on a golden platter," he said with a loathsome expression on his face.

"But haven't I always treated you well, and given you everything you've needed and more?"

"You have not given me everything I've needed," Heerzek said bitterly. "What I need"—he clenched his fists at his sides—"what I crave, is to rule over this world, and what Sentiz has offered me, your meager provisions could never compare with."

"Then it's too bad that I just killed Sentiz," Werrien said, his voice strained.

Behind his scraggly, black hair, Heerzek revealed a smug grin. "Oh, Werrien boy, you are so naive. What's really too bad is that you don't realize how powerful Sentiz is. You can't kill her. Resucca has granted her immortality." Heerzek looked over at Sentiz, who was now sitting up, smiling, and wiping the blood off of her unmarked throat. She stood up and walked over to Heerzek, and the two of them stared down at Werrien. With her foot, Sentiz pushed Werrien, and he fell to the ground on his side.

"You ungrateful boy," Sentiz said in a dry, throaty voice. "How dishonorable of you to sneak into
my
meeting room and take the Black Shard without your father's consent."

Even though in extreme pain, Werrien couldn't help but chuckle at Sentiz. "You care nothing for my father, so don't bring him into this. That palace and everything in it has never been yours, you filthy thief."

Sentiz chuckled as well. "Your stealing the Black Shard makes you a filthy thief as well."

"I never stole it; I borrowed it."

"Call it what you want, but regardless you will pay the consequence," she sneered. "And another thing, your being able to slit my throat was only because I allowed you to do so. It was just for fun on my part." Her dark eyes grew wide and a crazed smile formed on her face. "I actually enjoyed it, knowing that I can't be killed."

Heerzek and Sentiz snickered at each other.

"You and your pretty little girlfriend were so pathetic, gallivanting around the ship like two lovesick pups," Heerzek said with a disgusted look on his face. Then he looked at Sentiz. "Though I did try my hardest to ruin their fun," he said to her.

Werrien frowned at Heerzek. "Really, Heerzek?" he said. "How so?"

"Oh! That's right!" Heerzek said to Werrien. "How could you have had a clue? Sentiz gave me a sickness potion, and all I had to do was put an itty-bitty drop of it on a tiny piece of cloth. Then I cupped the cloth in the palm of my hand, and each time I touched Kristina with it, it made her feel ill, the same way food poisoning or sea sickness would." Heerzek chuckled. "It was really fun for me when I bribed your slave fairy; they're such suckers for sweets. Anyhow, at the palace, the morning after your birthday celebration, I put some of the sickness potion on the fairy's hand, and then I had her touch Kristina's face with it. Poor bitty thing died from it, but at least she made Kristina feel ill," Heerzek snickered. "And Kristina thought it was Leacha's syrup that made her sick."

"Heerzek," Werrien said, "you're fortunate that I don't have any strength left in me, for if I did, I'd gut your poisonous entrails out of you and then shove Sentiz inside your corpse."

After a disgruntled look at Werrien, Heerzek and Sentiz spoke quietly to each other, and when they were done, Heerzek said, "Werrien, do you and your pretty little girlfriend like surprises?"

"Don't forget; she's really not that pretty anymore," Sentiz added.

"Yes, of course. Those sores do take their toll after a while," Heerzek joked dementedly, "when there are so many of them, they start connecting with one another, leaving little room for skin. Werrien?" Heerzek said, but Werrien didn't respond, so Heerzek shoved him with his foot.

"Don't think I'm going to let you get off as easy as falling asleep in death," Sentiz said. "Sit him up," she ordered Heerzek. Heerzek promptly went down on his knees and propped Werrien up into a sitting position. Werrien's eyes were half closed.

"Open those pretty, blue eyes, boy!" Sentiz growled.

Werrien's eyes half opened.

"This surprise is for you as well," Sentiz said to Kristina, knowing she was staring into the Black Shard. Sentiz turned to look at the sloping hillside behind her. Then she clapped her hands a couple of times. "Come now, my dear one," she said.

A girl came walking up the hillside. Kristina couldn't believe it when she saw her, Werrien was surprised as well.

Hester?
Kristina thought, bewildered.

It was Hester, all right, wearing a long, fancy, purple gown. Kristina and Werrien both noticed something different about her. She was slightly slimmer and darkly seductive-looking.

"It figures," Werrien said to Hester. "Sentiz has convinced you to join her motley crew."

Smiling, Hester strode over to Heerzek, and Heerzek put his arm around her. The two of them kissed, and Heerzek gently pushed a few strands of Hester's long blonde hair behind her ear.

Her ears are pointed, like Heerzek's,
Kristina noticed.

"How sweet," Werrien said sarcastically. "You sold your soul to Resucca to become a shamel like Heerzek."

"There's so much you don't know, Werrien," Hester said, smiling, her cunning eyes narrowing. "First off, my name is not Hester; it's Strolin. Hester Crumeful is just a stupid name I picked up off a business card that I found on the street when I first arrived on Earth. Second, I was sent to Earth to keep an eye on Kristina. Originally, the plan was for me to develop a close friendship with her, but honestly, Werrien, I think you're really the only one I know who could put up with her. I could hardly stand being around her." Strolin paused to smile at Heerzek and gently ran the back of her hand across his cheek. "The best I could be, was her worst enemy." Heerzek nuzzled Strolin like a lovesick cat. "Thirdly, I've always been shamel, and fourthly, I sold my soul to Resucca way before you were ever born." She took a moment to admire the lace on the cuff of her sleeve. Then she looked at Werrien and smiled. "You know, Werrien," she said softly, "you might consider doing the same." She waved her hand nonchalantly at him. "I mean, to get rid of all this pain and turmoil stuff."

Werrien shook his head. "Thanks for the offer, but I think the three of you will do just fine, roasting in the pit of hell, without me."

"A toasty fire sounds pleasant compared to what I'm going to do with you," Sentiz chortled softly. She looked at Heerzek. "Well, then, enough petty conversation with the boy." Then she turned toward the sloping hillside. "Irgul!" she called in a screechy voice.

Except for the wind whistling over the soft green grass, there was an eerie calm. Then it was broken by a wheezing sound. A moment later, a grotesque, greenish-gray head popped up over the sloping hillside. It was the Irgul. With long, slow strides it strode to the top of the hill, where it stopped and stood a few feet from Sentiz, Heerzek, and Strolin.

"So, this must be your upgraded version of the zelbock," Werrien said.

The creature did kind of look similar to the zelbock, only it was taller and leaner. It had rippling muscles all over its body, and it stood up straight, where the zelbock had a hunched back.

"I'm not sure what to name him," Sentiz said, drumming her long red nails on her taut throat. "Maybe you can help me out, Werrien. What sounds better to you? Should I call him Irgul?"

"But Irgul is what he is," Heerzek said. "I think he needs a name other than that."

"Or ..." Sentiz went on, "should I call him by his other name—Graham?"

Werrien's usually tanned complexion was now a pasty white. His head fell forward and blood trickled out of the corner of his mouth.

"Since he's too feeble to respond, I suppose that I'll have to decide on my own," Sentiz said. "Okay! Graham it will be." She turned to face the Irgul. "Graham?" she said, but then she shook her head. "Hmm ... maybe 'Irgul' does suit you better. I can't decide."

"What about his original name?" Strolin said.

"Oh! Yes, of course! Margah," Sentiz said. "Nah! Graham it will be." She turned to face the Irgul who was standing over Werrien, breathing heavily and staring down at him. "Okay, Graham, you may get the boy, and be quick about it—we have a long night ahead of us."

T
he Black Shard went dark, and the only light left was that of the lantern. There wasn't even one star in the sky to be seen; they were covered by a blanket of turbulent dark clouds.

Tears streamed down Kristina's face. Even though she was in extreme pain from the multitude of sores covering her body, it was no comparison to the pain she felt in her heart for what had happened to Werrien.

The black vines covering her body were numerous now, twisting and tangling around her in all directions and then drilling their pointy tips back into the ground. There were so many of them that they looked like a solid black mass.

The wind picked up and blew out the frail fire in the lantern, making the atmosphere around Kristina completely dark. She felt a raindrop hit her forehead. Then, a moment later, it began to pour heavily. The rain pelted through the spaces between the overlapping vines. It felt like battery acid on Kristina's open wounds.

When the vines first began entwining around her, they were soft and pliable, but now, they had become hard with a rough surface, like the bark on a tree. They tightened around Kristina's body, pressing her down toward the earth. She imagined herself as a grape being squashed through a winepress. Closing her eyes, she desperately hoped her innards wouldn't explode out of her. The pressure was so great that confusion took over her mind, and she couldn't think straight anymore. The names "Navesa" and "Sirus" suddenly flashed across her mind—she saw them in shiny gold letters. Even though delirious, Kristina felt oddly comforted by them—but only until the letters fizzled away like a disappearing vapor. Then a deep sense of loneliness overcame her, and she wanted to cry. Her thought pattern was suddenly interrupted by more letters appearing, swirling around and arranging themselves to spell the name "Graham." They were a beautiful royal blue color but then the color faded fast and turned a greenish-gray mold-like color, and suddenly, a foul odor—like that of rotting garbage—filled Kristina's senses. Then the letters fell apart and the smell left as well, but only for a moment, as the letters rearranged themselves to spell "Margah." The horrendous smell came back twice as strong, causing Kristina to choke and gag. Then, like dish soap poured into greasy water, the name Margah dispersed and different letters flooded into her mind's eye. They circled around and spelled "Resucca"—red-hot and pulsating. Then they spiraled in the opposite direction and rearranged themselves to spell "Accuser"—and the letters burst into flames. They drew nearer and nearer to Kristina, as if they were trying to set her mind on fire. The heat was so intense and painful, she imagined her brain liquefying in her skull. Then, suddenly, everything went black. The atmosphere became dead silent.