KRIKKIT’S SHOES : D’ARRAGON PROPHECY -
Chapter 8
Waking up just before dawn, Krikkit and the princes made a quick meal of the dried fruits and nuts. In a short time they were ready to begin the search for the king and queen.
“We’ll start here and see what we replace,” said Ivan, indicating a path that entered a dense group of trees and set off toward it.
With tiny slivers of light, the morning sky gently nudged away the darkness. It promised to be a glorious day. The three followed the path, searching the ground for any clues that might be hiding in the long grass. A couple of hours passed with still no sign of anything out of the ordinary, so the children sat down to rest.
“Where to next?” asked Quinn, taking a swig of the water they had brought with them. Ivan shook his head and Krikkit had no suggestions, not being familiar with her surroundings at all.
“I did have sort of a dream last night about mother. But it was just a dream. I only remember that she was looking out of the window of that little house. You know, the one near those big, black rocks where we stopped for water while hiking with Keeper,” Ivan told them.
“Maybe it’s a sign,” said Quinn, his face lighting up with excitement.
“You think?” asked Ivan, thinking his twin could be right.
“Why don’t we go there now,” suggested Krikkit. “We’ll need to get back to the palace soon. Jara will be worried.”
“Oh no, Krikkit,” said Quinn and Ivan at the same time.
“We are not going home until we replace some clue about our parents and what’s happened to them,” insisted Ivan. That house is not very far from here. I think our parents have been there all along and we never thought of it until now.”
Krikkit and the twins rose to their feet and set off in the direction of the little house. It happened to be fairly close and they were there before Krikkit thought it possible.
“There’s the fence. Look, Ivan! We’ve found them!” Quinn was excited at the thought of reuniting with their parents.
“Hold on, Quinn. We don’t know that for sure. Let’s go slowly. Anyone could be in that house,” warned Ivan, thinking about their treacherous cousins who were after the throne.
Quinn, moving more carefully now, hustled on ahead. In a second he jumped the fence, followed closely by the others. Grabbing each of their arms, Quinn ushered Krikkit and his brother behind a large black rock facing the little house. There were no signs of any activity, so they decided it was safe to approach.
Side by side, the three crept to the door. No sounds could be heard from inside. After peering in the windows and seeing no one, Quinn carefully turned the knob, slowly pushing it open.
“No one here,” whispered Ivan, peering over his twin’s shoulder.
The three children quickly searched each room, finally making their way to the kitchen.
“They aren’t here!” cried Quinn, looking bitterly disappointed. “Your dream sounded like such a good omen.”
“They are not here now, Quinn, but they were. Isn’t this one of the combs our mother wears in her hair?” asked Ivan. He held out the small golden comb he had found on the table. Quinn recognized it immediately.
“You’re right, Ivan. It is her comb. They were here.” Quinn’s disappointment vanished.
Krikkit, enchanted with the beauty of the hair ornament, was as excited as the twins. “We must be close,” she said, feeling relieved they had made some progress. Hopefully they would be back at the palace before the others worried too much.
“Where would our parents go from here and why did they leave? Was it no longer safe here?” wondered Quinn.
“We can look for a trail and follow it,” Ivan answered.
Exiting the house the house, the boys had no difficulty replaceing telltale signs indicating a number of people had been at the house in recent hours.
“The trail is leading away from D’Arragon Palace,” Ivan informed them.
“We’ll go wherever it leads us,” Quinn told his brother.
The three followed the clues until they abruptly ended.
“Let’s rest for a while and get our bearings,” suggested Ivan, seeing frustration spreading over Quinn’s face.
Sitting cross-legged on the ground, Quinn grabbed a small twig from deep in the grass. He began to draw a map in the dirt of the surrounding area outside the forest. “This will help us figure out where to go next.”
“Yes, said Ivan, watching over his twin’s shoulder.” We can’t go very far on foot, now that Krikkit has joined the search.”
“Don’t worry about me,” Krikkit immediately remarked, grinning at them with her hands stuck in the pockets of her jeans. “I can keep up with any boy I know. Won a track and field ribbon last year.”
“Awesome,” the boys spoke at once, grinning back at her. “We won’t worry too much, then.”
Suddenly, they heard a commotion behind them. Turning their heads they saw three men coming toward them.
“It’s Tarcey!” yelled Quinn. “Run!”
Each twin grabbed one of Krikkit’s hands, and in panic, they started running. Ivan gaspingly tried to explain to her that Tarcey was the one who wanted their father’s throne.
Krikkit, seeing a stump sticking out of the ground, jumped to clear it. At that moment the three of them feeling a slight jerk, began to rise toward the sky. Krikkit could hear the princes calling out.
“What’s happening?” yelled Quinn.
“I think we’re flying!” yelped Ivan.
“It’s the shoes!” shouted Krikkit. “They’re taking us somewhere!”
“Somewhere good, I hope,” hollered the twins, their eyes wide with astonishment.
At that moment a purple cloud surrounded all three children and they felt a sharp energy crackling through it. Bursts of white light lit up the mist all around them. In a short time they began to descend.
The princes were scared. “Are we going to hit the ground and crumble into a million pieces?” called out Ivan to Krikkit.
“Just hold on tight!” Krikkit could only hope everything would turn out right when they landed.
The ground seemed to rise up to them quickly, their feet landing with hardly a jolt. The purple mist fell away and the energy-filled light disappeared.
“Where on earth are we?” asked Ivan, totally bewildered after his harrowing experience. They had landed in the middle of a dimly lit room somewhere.
“This has to be magic. How else could it be explained?” asked Quinn rubbing his eyes to make sure he was seeing straight.
“This is how I got to D’Arragon,” explained Krikkit.
“Wow!” It was all Ivan could manage for the moment.
“Looks like some kind of a cave,” said Quinn, as all three walked around. “It’s so damp and cold in here.”
An old rusted iron cabinet stood against one wall. It was the only piece of furniture except for an ornately carved trunk that sat crookedly on the dirt floor against the wall. Krikkit ran her fingers over the trunk feeling strangely drawn to it and wondered why it seemed so familiar.
“It’s beautiful,” she said, examining the figures someone had carved into the trunk. Suddenly, she knew why the trunk looked familiar. The little box she had found at the beach containing the shoes, displayed the very same carvings on it. “They look like wizards or something. Stupendous!” cried Krikkit.
“One of the hinges is gone,” said Quinn, “Must have rusted away.”
“Rusted just like Syntaba’s must be,” murmured Krikkit, half to herself. The child had no idea what made her mention Syntaba. The words just seemed to come out of her mouth.
“Who?” asked Quinn.
“Syntaba. Remember, Jara told us about his trunk being washed away in the flood? This reminds me of what she read from the book last night.”
“Right,” the princes answered together. Their interest in the trunk suddenly increased.
“Maybe it’s his trunk,” suggested Krikkit, her eyes wide and excited.
“But how did it end up here, I wonder?” asked Quinn.
“Well, we better open it,” said Ivan, joining the conversation. “Then we’ll know if it’s Syntaba’s trunk or not.”
“Yes,” agreed Quinn. “We’d better check. Jara would want us to.”
The honor was given to Krikkit. The rusted lock fell apart in her hands and she carefully opened the lid. Afraid to look at first, she hesitated.
“Maybe there’s magic in it,” she said.
“Good,” answered Quinn, magic being quite common for them with their own personal sorcerer.
Krikkit, swallowing nervously, opened the trunk ever so carefully. She could not imagine in the slightest what they might replace.
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