Glass Pomegranate: Volume I

Chapter Twelve: The Shadow of a Shark

When the ferry finally docked, and the all-clear was given to disembark, Alistair raced for the shore, practically dragging Kismet behind him. Their sneakers pounded on the wooden planks as they ran, weaving in and out of frustrated pedestrians. Some cursed him by name.

She barely had a moment to take in her new surroundings. Most of the people they ran through looked disgruntled, but average enough. Others had horns, scales or even wings. They glared at them with red, yellow or purple eyes and pupils in the shape of slits or rectangles. Someone whacked her with a thick lizard tail.

"Watch where you're going!" The lizardman called after them.

When they finally reached the shore, Alistair let go of her hand and she had a moment to absorb the view and catch her breath. The air was lighter here; fewer thoughts were floating on the wind compared to the heart of the city. It didn't strain her as much to shut them out.

The small terminal was a squat wooden structure no bigger than a house. The parking-lot was packed full with the vehicles of workers and travelers alike. Trucks lined up expectantly near the mouth of the dock Kismet had just sprinted away from, their tarps rolled down from the top to allow crates to be stacked inside.

Forklifts delivered pallets teeming with wooden crates and barrels while workers steadily unloaded them, taking them to the trucks. Some were able to carry the large boxes with apparent ease. One person even levitated a crate a few feet ahead of them as they walked.

"Ok," said Alistair, still huffing for a full breath. "If he's not here, there's one spot I'd like to check first. I'm really sorry about dragging you all around like this."

"I understand," Kismet said. "This is more important."

He lamented letting his sister Cassie borrow the car. Now they'd have to walk. Kismet never learned to drive and was much more accustomed to going by foot than Alistair seemed to be.

The journey wasn't far. After leaving the port, they wove through a warren of residential lots with neat little homes splashed with vibrant colours. It seemed no one here ever mowed their lawns. They were all completely overgrown, allowing bees and butterflies to hover around the blooming wild flowers. Some kept more manicured garden beds tucked amongst the long grass and weeds, but they were few and far between.

The community gardens seemed to be more common, with one at the end of every few blocks. Each was filled to bursting with plants.

A young woman stooped, examining a cluster of tomatoes. Kismet almost didn't see her through the mass of rich foliage. Her gentle fingers grazed the flesh of a green tomato and it ripened at her touch. A crown of small pink and white flowers rested on her head, complimenting her flowing brown and white dress. Dark brown hair fell freely over her shoulders and down her back. Even her energy seemed to be as warm and soft as summer top-soil.

"Hi," she smiled at Alistair. "You're in an awful hurry."

"Hey Blossom, have you seen Angel around?" he asked.

"Not since last night," she said. "But I heard -"

"And?" Alistair asked.

"Cassie told me he's ok. After the fight I was certain -" Blossom took a breath. Magenta sparks flashed through her olive-green aura.

Mauve pulses of relief rippled from Alistair. "What happened?"

"I was fire-spinning with Cass," she explained. "I didn't see much -"

As Blossom began to explain, images of a crowded space strobed in Kismet's mind. Some sort of warehouse... no... a barn. The music was loud, but so was the cheering. Exhilaration. Her eyes tracked nothing but fire as it twirled on the end of the staff in her hands. A loud punch. The crowd erupted. Then silence. Blood. Screaming. Her dance partner stopped spinning beside her, then jumped off the edge of the stage, rushing for the ring of hay bales... A man being lifted by two women, one being her dance partner... The man was awash in blood...