The Questory of Root Karbunkulus - Quill (31 page)

Pooly’s eyes welled with tears as she saw her
mother petting the creature, feeding it, laughing at it warmly.
Then more images swarmed. Horror filled images.

The Wrinkle Rat…attacking the dark men of
the Murklord who break in to the Drinkhouse. The Wrinkle Rat
piercing the neck of one of their beasts. The Wrinkle Rat standing
boldly at Pooly’s mother’s feet, keeping the attackers at bay. The
Wrinkle Rat desperately trying to gnaw at the wooden plank that
locks the family in. The raging red flames. The Wrinkle Rat
succumbing at last.

Pooly picked up the creature. The marvelous,
brave, most beautiful animal she’d ever seen. And brought it with
her to Divit, to build a new Drinkhouse. A new life.

“Raisin!” Pooly called melodically when she
saw the arrival of more guests, three teens in red cloaks. “The
door, love!”

Root gasped to see a very, very large rodent,
fat with heavy folds of wrinkles and a purple glittering patch over
its eye, bounding toward them.

Raisin nodded her pointy nose in greeting and
led the Valadors toward a table. Along the way a man stopped her
and put a few coins into the pouch that strapped along her side.
“Thanks, Raisin!” the man said with a wink.

The Wrinkle Rat squeaked and continued toward
the empty table. It stopped briefly at a long counter to tip the
contents of its pouch into a jar that was teeming with coins. A
label was pasted over the jar in loose handwriting:
Lamb’s Haven
Fund. They are not Tints, they are our children.

Root was instantly triggered into thoughts of
her friend. She found some solace in this sign. Lamb’s Haven.
Perhaps this was where Krism was spending his days.

The team arrived at its table. Raisin helped
push in chairs and then disappeared back into the thirsty
crowd.

“Hmmm...” Pooly carefully observed the three
kids in red cloaks. Her eyes softened and all sound around her
faded. Raisin was now behind the long counter, refilling a bowl of
chocolate popcorn

and waiting patiently for Pooly’s
prescription.

“Give the taller dark haired boy a mug of
Sleegum’s.” Pooly said at last. “He could use a bit of a garden
around those walls he’s building up. And add just a dash of
Inxhair. Uh…the smaller boy can have…do we have any fresh
Flamento?” Raisin nodded. “Good, make his a double…loosen up some
of that tightness…and the girl…” Pooly squinted her eyes. She’d
become so good at Scanning, she no longer needed to hold an object.
Just looking at the customer gave her the information. In a flash
she saw the Sage Mother’s painting and Root’s heart trying to
rebuild itself. She knew instantly what was needed. “Raisin, grab
mum’s bottle of Eisenworger.” The wrinkle rat looked up. “Add two
sprigs of Smummus…to soften any revenge that might be lurking.”

Raisin was a Master Mixologist and had become
so adept at preparing Pooly’s prescriptions that Pooly no longer
tended the counter, but picked up the orders and brought them out.
She loved being able to spend more time with her customers. And
indeed, with a daily packed house, they loved her as much.

Of course Pooly never pried. Nor was this
brief glimpsing of their lives done with gossiping intent or the
desire to change anybody. That wasn’t her business. She just gave
them what they were asking for, whether they were consciously aware
of it or not. It wasn’t that her concoctions were temporary
bandages to the aches of flesh but more like sweet serums that slid
down through the layers of the heart, seeking to soften it. The
rest, of course was up to the individual whether they wanted to
keep it soft and flexible or not. Certainly Pooly had seen her
share of hardened hearts. Hearts that even her silkiest drop of
Gladandra could not reach. Black hearts. But never would she turn
even these down. For there was always hope. If not through her,
then by another means perhaps. But always, hope.

“Here you are, loves” Pooly propped each
unique cup down in front of its corresponding guest.

“I’m sorry, you must be at the wrong table.”
Root said, “We didn’t order these.”

“Oh yes you did, puddin’. Here you are. And
mind, don’t be samplin’ anyone else’s. They’ll be plenty disgusting
t’
your
taste buds. Now then, toast yourselves and don’t let
me see you less than smiling. Them’s the Pooly rules.”

“How much do we owe you?” Lian reached into
his pocket.

“Whatever you think its worth. Just drop it
in the fund, love.” She pointed at the jar on the counter then
slipped away with a wink.

Root’s drink came in a three-leaf clover
shaped glass atop three stems. Each leaf was filled with a
different colored liquid, one pink, one pale yellow and one powdery
blue. And though there was no glass between each liquid, they
remained separated. Lian’s drink came in a tall, thin, blue glass
with a small oval opening that suggested the best approach would be
small sips. Dwyn’s silvery drink came in a red goblet with two
handles. It was bubbling.

No one could hide the excitement that such
personal exclusivity had brought to them. Nor the curiosity.

“To us!” Dwyn lifted his goblet with both
hands.

The entire room took him to heart. Mugs,
shots, flutes, tall skinny glasses, short thick tins, all converged
with a happy clanking in the middle of their tables. And to top it
off Raisin set the Valadors up with three big bowls of chocolate
popcorn.

Root took a sip. Wow. Seriously wow. It
splashed down her throat with a tangy quenching thrill. There was
no doubt it was exactly what she needed. The perfect bolster to
help her recount the insane events of her insane day.

As Lian and Dwyn dug into their popcorn, Root
filled them in with all the details, adding her own theories as she
did. When she was finished, the popcorn was long gone. Her
teammates were stunned.

“I just can’t believe it.” Lian said at last.
“Gut Oil is nothing to play around with. It’s supposed to have come
from the belly of a Dusk Demon. Nothing can survive it.”

“That’s just too freaky that Kor is somehow
connected to that mansion.” Dwyn added. “But how?”

“All I know,” Root said, “is that those
workers down there all wore the sign of Kakos
and
they had direct access to that mansion.”

“So, you think Kakos owns it…?” Dwyn
asked.

“And that Kor and Kakos…?” Lian added,
already a hint of skepticism in his voice.

“How else could he be getting so much money?”
Root said.

“Well, okay, but Kakos is big time, Root. I’m
not sure I can believe he’d be even remotely interested in a kids’
scavenger race. I know Kor’s a jerk and all but I think maybe
you’re going too far with this. ”

Dwyn nodded and went quiet. They just
couldn’t go with Root on this one.

After awhile she sighed. Maybe they were
right. It was a bit of a leap. Maybe, she’d just got herself caught
up in the drama. For all she knew Kor was just pretending to live
in the mansion because he was too embarrassed of his real home.
Root had done the same thing when she lived with the aunts. Most
likely the mansion belonged to one of those creepy buyers on the
Zero-th Floor, one who bought the Gut Oil. And it’s not like she
hadn’t seen Kakos’ symbol before, insidiously rooting its way
around DréAmm. Maybe the whole thing was just a crazy series of
coincidences.

She knew she had to somehow untangle herself
from the web she’d woven before she attracted more trouble,
like…that guy in the corner who was glaring right at her.

Root dipped into the third leaf of her drink
and pretended not to notice him. Surely, whoever it was wouldn’t
think to attack in a packed house like this anyhow. She tried to
re-enter the conversation, which had swung back and forth between
their next steps in the race and the cute girl behind the counter
of one of the shops Lian and Dwyn had visited. But first, in that
silly pecking way that things bug you, Root had to know if the guy
was still staring at her.

Very casually, perhaps too casually she
lifted her head.

There he was, still glued to her. Just
gawking. His eyes were so…what was it about them? They were so
penetrating. For some reason she felt like she could fall into
them. She turned away. Not good. Probably some sort of Trance
making bounty hunter guy.

The conversation shifted. Apparently the boys
had spent a large portion of the early afternoon in a candy shop
and were eagerly comparing it to Heaven.

Again Root had to look. It was so stupid, but
she just had to see.

Sheesh! He was still staring. This time a
shiver ran down her spine as she met his eyes. And then she felt
like an idiot thinking he was thinking she was staring at
him
. Even though
he
started it! Her eyes fell back to
her drink. She would try the ol’ peripheral sweep. Keeping her head
toward Lian who was on about a particularly lovely truffle, she
slowly moved only her eyes.

The guy was under the hood of a heavy rust
colored cloak but she caught a fringe of dark brown hair, maybe
black. And though he sat back in the safety of a shadow she could
see the eyes. Still locked on her. Her heart skipped but she
couldn’t tear herself away.

At least he wasn’t a Squawnch but he was
obviously someone with an interest in her. In her capture? She
gulped and took another sip. But would a bounty hunter be sitting
at a table of kids younger than Root? Four of them, two boys and
two girls. Looking perfectly, happily normal, sucking on straws and
jamming more popcorn into their chocolate covered, laughing mouths.
Could be just a set up, a diversion.

Rats! He caught her eyes again.

Well this was getting just silly now. Out of
pure exasperation, Root turned and faced her quiet, cloaked
opponent head on.

What he did next had her spinning in a
dithered cloud. She had no idea what to do. It was so sudden, so
unexpected.

Of all the things he could have done…He
wasn’t supposed to do that.

He wasn’t supposed to…smile. Just. Smile.

Root spun back to her drink and drained the
entire thing in one long swig.

The conversation at her table was just
getting back to the cute girl behind the counter when the door of
Pooly’s Drinkhouse swung open.

There was a blinding flash…

…of Pink.

Oh god.

Hilly, Sharmay and Pidge were fresh and
posed. They stood in the threshold scanning, not for a table but
more like a stage.

“Well, well…not in this lifetime would I have
thought I’d see a Punyun in the Drinkhouse. Welcome, love!” Pooly
stood with her hands on her hips, nodding appreciatively.

“I’m not staying, Poolipity Shrugs. My mother
says I would catch a plague from the rats.” At this Hilly eyeballed
Raisin.

“ I see. And how is your mother? I’ve not
seen her since we were…well, it’s been some time.”

“She’s fine. Busy.”

“Of course. And since you’re not staying, how
may I help you?”

“ I saw some Hovers of friends of mine and
I….Oh, there you guys are!” Hilly, Sharmay and Pidge walked, a
three-car choo choo of pastel that wound its way through the maze
of tables, stopping directly in front of the Valadors.

“Just wanted to show you something.” Hilly
pulled it from beneath her long, wool poncho. It dazzled the eyes.
Her back was to most of the Drinkhouse customers but had they
looked they would have seen the shimmering light that silhouetted
her. From Root’s view it was even more glorious. The silver spine
seemed lit from its own power within. It spread its radiant
iridescence outward into the tips of each soft plume of the
Quill.

“Hey!” someone yelled from across the room.
“That’s ours!”

Hilly spun around and spotted another team
coming toward her.

“You stole that from us, Punyun and we want
it back!”

“I got it fair and square.”

“Well, ‘fair’ is putting it rather loosely,
wouldn’t you say?” Root interrupted.

“What do you know?”

As the other team approached, Dwyn stood,
prompting Lian to reluctantly follow suit…
Couldn’t there be just
one day of no fighting?

Now three teams were squaring off in the
middle of Poolipity Shrugs’ Drinkhouse.

Pooly took a deep breath. This was the last
thing she wanted. She was about to intervene when something of a
miracle happened instead.

“Hey, it’s the teams from the DréAmm Treasure
Quests!”

From another table four people had stood up,
two young boys and two young girls. They were smiling as they
approached.

“So cool to meet you. We’ve heard all about
it and have been following through the news. But to actually see
you all in person, that’s awesome!” The boy, the tallest of the
youngsters, reached his hand toward Root. “I’m Splinter and this is
Fizz, Chichi and Mameo.”

“Glad to meet you” Root responded, grateful
of the reprieve. She’d had enough fights for one night. She
introduced Lian and Dwyn. Splinter then turned to Hilly and
extended his hand. “And you must be The Pinks…?”

“Hilly Punyun” she said after a beat, taking
his hand hesitantly at first.

But then she saw it. Thick and shiny on his
forehead. She snatched her hand back. “You’re…you’re a Tint!”

Splinter stiffened. Hilly’s blatant disgust
had caught him off guard. He became flustered and looked back to
his table for help. Root braced herself for
Cloak-Trance-Bounty-Hunter-smiling guy to come rushing over, fists
and curses on the fly. Maybe a good knock or two in Hilly’s
direction. Not that she didn’t deserve it.

But he simply nodded his head in
encouragement at the young boy.

Splinter affirmed the nod and tried to rally
some inner strength. It was obviously not easy as the hurt in his
eyes fought for attention. With a deep breath he managed to stand
straight and face Hilly. His words came out like a recitation but
behind them there was power, the power of acceptance. “I was taken
from my parents and forced into slavery with the Murklord, if
that’s what you mean.”.