Andrew and the Quest of Orion's Belt (Rise of the Fallen) Page 7

  Chapter Six

  Ivory

  Andrew was thrown before the Sontar captain, and made to kneel. “Your hissness,” the Sontar guard told the captain, “this boy attacked our Trolim. He deserves death!”

  The captain bent down and wiped the soot away from Andrew’s dirty neck, revealing the star marks that had been seared into the boy’s skin. “It’s as I suspected. It is the boy. I knew this would probably happen sooner or later. He was supposed to be out of my camp a week ago, but there has been a change of plans. I’m not sure when he’ll be taken, if at all. Perhaps, they wanted him dead.” He scowled, staring at Andrew with his snake-like eyes. Andrew’s face and clothes were black with coal dust, like any ordinary slave, but Andrew's bright eyes were clear and piercing. The captain turned away from the boy’s gaze. There was too much power in it, too much spirit.

  “I should kill you!” the captain shouted. “But I can’t, or my head would be forfeit. Your life is highly valued. First, The Fallen wants you for himself, with a hansom reward staked on you. Then Vargas offers a greater sum, then Morack offers me more. What am I to do with you? Perhaps I should keep you for myself! What powers do you hold boy, that so many would want you for themselves?”

  Andrew kept his eyes fixed on the ground, giving no answer.

  “TELL ME!”

  “I don't know!”

  “Fine, if you will not tell me the truth, I will make you talk! Guards, go tie him to the post in the middle of town. Give him no food or water.”

  The Sontars dragged Andrew out of the foul-smelling prison camp, into a filthy street littered in garbage, where there was a great post, which they tied him to.

  Miserable as he was, Andrew still had a bit of pride left in him, and when the cruel people of Nookpot came to gawk at him, he would look them in the eye as if to say, “how dare you!”

  At first, Andrew was happy to be out in the sun. But as the hours dragged on, he became very thirsty. It had been so long since he had seen it, that it made his eyes hurt, and his skin burn underneath the many layers of coal dust.

  The Sontars would usually worked him during the day, so all he ever saw was continual night. The heat beat down upon him, causing him to feel delirious with thirst. The next day passed much like the first, except his nagging thirst continued to grow. Everywhere he saw mirages of water that tortured him. He called out for mercy, but no one heard his cries---no one cared.

  Towards the closing of the second day, after having no food or water, Andrew stood with head bowed, dreaming of cold limewater that flowed from the ground, in Hollyhock Hollow, of fish, and of pools of water. He opened his mouth to drink, but was awoken by something jabbing him in the side of the neck.

  “Hello?” a voice ventured.

  A girl stood in front of him, holding a long-stemmed rose. She jabbed Andrew again, poking him with the sharp end.

  “Ouch! Stop!” Andrew cried. “What are you doing?”

  “Oh! I thought you were dead." She dropped the rose, and walked around him inspecting him with her bright green eyes. Her hair was as red as the rose she had held. Her pointed ears peered out behind her wavy hair, so long they were not easily hidden. There was a little wooden wheelbarrow full of flowers by her side filled with more roses. “I’m sorry. I didn't mean to wake you. I'm glad you're...not...dead. I thought you were, for a minute. You look thirsty. Would you like a drink of water?”

  Andrew licked his swollen, chapped lips, and nodded.

  The girl smiled, and touched a dipper full of water to his lips. Andrew smiled in thanks, drinking it down quickly. She gave him another dipper full, and still another.

  “Thank you,” Andrew said, when he'd finished. “Thank you.”

  The girl smiled and wiped Andrew's dirty face with her handkerchief, smudging the black away from his cheeks. “I do believe there is a boy underneath all that grime. You're so dirty I could have mistaken you for a shadow. Why are they doing this to you?”

  Andrew pulled his chapped lips together into a tired smile. “It’s complicated.”

  The girl put her hands on her sides, and huffed. “I’m a girl, I can understand complicated. After all, we invited it. I heard that there was a boy, who saved a hundred children from being trapped in the mines. Was that you?”

  Andrew shook his head, “No," he lied. "That wasn't me. I believe...that boy died.”

  A look of disappointment crossed the girl’s face. “That's very sad. I'd...hoped...wait, I can tell, you're lying. It was you, wasn't it?”

  Andrew remained silent. Not wanting to bear his soul to a perfect stranger.

  "Fine then, if you won't answer me, I'll just go, and leave you here to rot." She turned away and started to push her cart down the road. Then she stopped, suddenly, turned around, and came back. "Okay," she said, moving behind Andrew, and lifting up a pair of sheers she had in her cart. "I can't just leave you here. What kind of person would I be?"

  “What are you doing?”

  The girl smiled, then snipped Andrew's bonds with the sheers, clipping them away as if his shackles were flowers instead of iron chains.

  “Thanks," Andrew said, rubbing his sore wrists.

  “You're welcome. Now, quickly, get into my cart and I'll get you to safety.”

  Andrew did as the girl commanded. She made him lie flat, in the cart, then she covered him in her bouquets of flowers until he was totally hidden. Proud of her work, she glanced around her, she turned and wheeled him away as if he were just another flower. As she walked, she sang in a soft, pretty voice. “Flowers by moor, flowers by the sea, flowers don’t mean much unless they’re grown by me. Everywhere you look, the colors bright and fair, will never compare to the colors the flowers wear. In the meadow there’s a hill so blooming bright, that if you happened to pass by, you’d think it was moonlight.”

  Andrew listened to her clear, soft, melodic voice, and yawned. The gentle bumping of the cart and the smell of the flowers relaxed him so much that he fell asleep.

  The next morning he awoke to the sound of water running, and the soft to smell of lavender. For a minute he thought he was home. His bed was made up of the flowers from the night before. But they were no longer soft and beautiful; they were dry and dead, as if they’d been cooked.

  He was in a huge greenhouse with row upon row of plants surrounding him. It was humid and hot in the greenhouse, but it felt safe. He felt rested, and fully alert. He hadn't felt that way in an extremely long time. It saddened him to think of Freddie, Talic, and the others trapped back at the slave camp. He had to leave; he had to find a way to help them.

  Amid these thoughts, the redheaded girl appeared, like a fairy dancing among the flowers. “Hi,” she sang out, tripping up to Andrew and inspecting him with her green eyes. “Did you sleep well?”

  “Yes, thank you.”

  “Good. I brought you something to eat. You must be very hungry.” She held out a small loaf of thick, brown bread, with some cheese, and a flask of goat milk.

  Andrew gratefully took the food and wolfed it down. The girl sighed, pushing her hair behind ears, that were almost as pointy as Andrews. She perched herself on an old wooden platform, swinging her legs back and forth, watching him eat. “What’s your name?”

  “Andrew. What's yours?”

  “My name’s Ivory. Ivory Autumn.”

  She smiled at him, leaned in closer, and traced the star-star shaped scars on his neck, not seeming to respect his space. “What are those markings?”

  He backed away from her and blushed, feeling uncomfortable. “Don’t touch me.”

  “Why?”

  “Because I said so.”

  “Gosh, you’re rude.”

  “I’m sorry. I...uh...better be going. I don't want to get you into trouble.”

  Ivory brushed the dead flower from her hair, and blocked Andrew's path of exit. “Please, don’t go.” She moved closer to him, her eyes filling with loneliness.

  Andrew backe
d further away, feeling cornered by this strange, yet pretty girl.

  “Please,” Ivory went on, following Andrew. “I’ve been so lonely here. I’m sure Krot wouldn’t mind taking on another mine worker---that is if you know how to garden.”

  Andrew shook his head, still backing away, nearly tripping over a large flowerpot. “You don't want me to garden. I kill plants. Sorry, but, I’ve got to leave. I have to help my friends. They need me.”

  "Kill plants, that's ridiculous!"

  "I do."

  She waved a flower in front of Andrew's face, and he backed away looking frightened to touch it.

  "It's just a flower, nothing to be scared of."

  "You don't understand," Andrew said, growing angry.

  “No, you don't understand. If you go back, they'll just put you in a dark hole where you'll never see the light of day again. You won't be able to get your friends out. Believe me, I know. Here it’s safe. You can be my friend, and you will never go hungry. The work's hard, but it's pleasant.”

  “You’re probably right.” Andrew rubbed the star-shaped scars on his neck, nervously. “But, my friends are all I've got. If I leave them, I’m no good to myself or anybody else.”

  “Fine then,” Ivory murmured, “you must go. Your friends are very lucky to have someone like you. I only wish I had such a friend.”

  “You don't have any friends?”

  Ivory shook her head. “No, I don’t…” Then remembering something, her sad eyes lit up, and she twirled around in her ragged dress. “But, the flowers are my friends.”

  “The flowers?”

  She stopped twirling and glared at him. “They’re much better friends than an ungrateful boy.”

  "I'm not a boy."

  "Then what are you?"

  "A man."

  "You don't look like a man."

  "I'm sixteen."

  "No you're not. You look like a baby. You act like one too."

  Andrew folded his arms and frowned. "You act like you're crazy."

  Ivory's eyes grew wide, she clenched her fists, and set her jaw. "Maybe that's because I am!"

  Andrew felt immediately sorry that he had said what he had. She looked hurt, and very angry. She turned her back to him, trying to look indifferent. “Well you better go, boy. Especially when your FRIENDS are waiting for you to come back and join them in the pits. You had better go before Krot finishes his breakfast, and the crazy girl locks you away here forever. Here, I'll show you the way out.”

  She led Andrew to the door, and pushed him out. “Get out of here, boy, before I decide to put you back where I got you.”

  Andrew stopped and turned around, “You’re being unfair.”

  Ivory frowned, cocked her head to the side, and raised her brows. “I, me, being unfair. No, you’ve got it all mixed up. You’re the one being unfair. I saved your life. Now you just want to leave without offering to help me do my chores for an afternoon. Gosh, boys. You can never find gentlemen these days. Why do I even bother?” She let out an exasperated sigh, and disappeared back into the green house.

  "Wait," Andrew called, following behind her. “Okay...fine, Ivory. You’ve won. What do you want me to do? If it means that much to you, I'll stay, just for a few hours to help you. But no longer. Okay?”

  She stepped out from behind a large row of flowerpots, and shook her head. “You’re joking, right?”

  “No, I’m not. I'll help you. Whatever you want.”

  “Really?” She said, slowly stepping up to Andrew, and smiling. “A few hours? Agreed.”

  "Okay," Andrew said, feeling rather awkward. “So, ah what do you want me to do first?”

  “You just stay right here and I'll go speak to Krot about you,” she said, quickly leaving for a moment. She came back with Krot---a fat short man with a bewhiskered face and graying hair.

  Krot eyed Andrew, critically. “Dis is da boy den?” He shook his head and turned away. “He’s a dirty, skinny, boy. Totally useless! Get hem out of here, Ivory, before da Sontars find dat he’s missing, and day eat me alive, for treason.”

  Ivory looked at Krot, pleadingly. “But, Krot, I could get a lot more done with his help. I'll bet he could even cut the hedges that you hate trimming. He could help for a few hours, and no one would know. Think of all that we could get done.”

  Krot nodded slowly. “Ah...trim the hedges...yes. I hate doing dat.” He looked at Andrew and scowled. “Do you know flowers, dirty boy?"

  Andrew hesitated, not sure how to answer him.

  "Well," Krot continued, "never mind. It doesn't matter. Ivory will show you what to do."

  Ivory flashed Krot a wide smile. “Thank you! I'll go show him what to do right now.”

  “Good.” Krot said, watching as Ivory pulled Andrew from the greenhouse and out into the gardens. “The sooner you start working, the less I have to do.”

  Ivory led Andrew past glowing rows of bright star-shaped flowers. A smell like wet rain filled the air. Row upon row of these flowers filled Krot's garden, their brilliant white petals looking like masses of drifted snow covering the ground.

  “Is this the only kind of plant you grow?” Andrew asked, looking somewhat baffled.

  “We grow some roses. But mostly the starflower is the only thing we plant here. Sometimes I plant other things, but not very often.”

  “Why this kind of flower?”

  “Because, The Fallen is obsessed with the star flower. He's obsessed with anything that produces light. The flowers glow like lamps at night. He pays Krot to plant them, and when the flowers are ready, Vargas sends his servants from his kingdom, far away, to come and get them, and then they send them to The Fallen.

  Andrew looked at Ivory curiously. “Who is The Fallen so many speak of?”

  Ivory lowered her voice, and her eyes gleamed in fear. “The dark one who devours all light.”

  Andrew still wasn’t satisfied. “What do you mean?”

  “Shh, we shan’t speak of him here.”

  Andrew nodded, and stared out at the fields of flowers. It was truly beautiful. They were best thing he'd ever seen since leaving home. The flowers were so bright it made his eyes hurt. He bent down and touched one of the white petals, but at his touch, the flower wilted and went ghastly brown.

  “See,” Andrew said, swiftly withdrawing his hand. “I'm toxic to plants.”

  “No. Don't be silly. It must be thirsty,” Ivory said, looking unconcerned, at the wilted flower. “We better get to work. Here, plant these, and I'll go fetch some water.”

  She handed Andrew a bag of seeds. “We must plant them all before the sun sets, or Krot will be extremely angry with us.”

  "I better not," Andrew said, handing the sack of seeds back to Ivory.

  "You'll do fine, just watch me."

  Reluctantly, Andrew took the seeds and went to work, both afraid and comforted to be in element again. He felt a tingle of pleasure run through his arms as he held the seeds. He'd never heard of the starflower before. He had never seen such strange seeds. They were pale white and were shaped like their name.

  While he planted the seeds, he smiled sadly, as he thought of his home, almost forgetting that Ivory was there. He thought of how good the earth felt, and how nice the sun was on his back. So preoccupied was he, that he didn't even notice that almost every seed he planted turned to powder the second it touched the earth.

  Andrew and Ivory worked until all the seeds had been planted. They only stopped to rest after the sun was high in the sky.

  “I see dat you are done,” Krot said, coming up to them and frowning. “Dat is good.”

  “If it's so good,” Ivory asked. “then why don’t you look happier?”

  “Because, dere vill always be more to plant.”

  “That is true,” Ivory agreed. “But we can be happy, right now, even if we must do the same thing a hundred times, can’t we?”

  “Doing the same ting, over and over,” Krot retorted, “do
es not bring a gardener joy. I'm so sick of dose flowers---I'd give anyting, anyting to plant weeds, just for a change of scenery! Ah, vell, here, eat your lunch, and after you're done, trim da hedges.”

  He set out a lunch of honeyed bread, and a thin slice of ham, for each of them. While they ate, Andrew stared at the plot of ground they'd just planted, waiting for his seeds to come up, like they had always done when he'd finished planting at his home. But nothing happened---no small sprouts poked their heads up from the earth. He wondered why they were taking so long.

  “You look sad, Andrew,” Ivory said. “Why? Is it because you miss your friends.”

  Andrew shrugged. “No. I was just wondering why the seeds haven't come up yet.”

  "What?" Ivory looked very amused. "Don't you know anything? Seeds just don't sprout up after you plant them. You have to be patient. You have to wait, and let them grow. Like friendships. If they grew instantaneously, they'd have no roots."

  Andrew nodded, still looking quite disturbed.

  “Here," Ivory offered. "I've got just the thing to cheer you up." She pulled Andrew up from his seat, and over to the green hedges that protected the rows of flowers from the wind. She handed him a pair of clippers and pointed to a stool. “Help me trim these, and you'll feel better. Just imagine that those long twigs are your problems and chop them off. It feels really nice.”

  “Okay,” Andrew murmured, stepping up a ladder leaning against the overgrown hedges. “Imagine that they're my problems.” He snipped a long branch with the clippers and the branch fell to the ground with a low thud.

  “See,” Ivory said, flashing him a big grin. “I told you it feels nice.”

  Andrew returned the smile. “Yeah, it does.” He smiled to himself, and reached out and pulled a high branch down so that he could trim it---but the branch turned yellow and broke off in his hands and disintegrated into a fine powder.

  “Ivory,” Andrew cried. “Did you see that? Maybe I better not do this.”

  She poked her head over the opposite side of the hedge and smiled. “Andrew, you’re not five years old. I don’t need to hold your hand. You’re doing just fine.”

  Andrew gave Ivory a confused look. “That’s not what I meant.”

  She winked, and turned back to her own work. “Sure, it wasn’t.”

  “Girls!” he exhaled, and turned back to his work, taking greater care not to touch any of the branches.

  At home, he’d planted seeds, and they had grown in an instant. He never had to wait. The tree branches in Hollyhock Hollow had never turned to dust in his hands. He was starting to feel a little out of control. What was wrong with him?

  Soon, he came to a tall branch that was much too high for him to trim. He climbed to the top rung of the ladder. As he reached the highest rung, the wood beneath him broke and he fell forward into the hedge with a crash.

  With his fall, the leaves and branches of the hedge, that he'd fallen into, slowly petrified into brown sticks, spreading out from him until the miles of hedges turned into dry branches.

  Andrew crawled out from the dead hedge, into the field of starflowers, where he lay, gasping for air, his face and body dripping in sweat. He pushed himself up, but as he did so, his hand grazed against a single starflower. He recoiled at the touch and jumped back. The flower he'd touched died instantly and toppled over, hitting another flower and toppling it over, until one by one, half the field of flowers had become totally brown.

  Andrew stood staring at the rows of dead flowers, with a growing sense of dread, fear, and anger in his heart. What had he just done?

  “Oh, Andrew!” Ivory wailed, wide-eyed and fearful. “What have you done?”

  Krot simultaneously appeared on the scene, too stunned to utter a word. After a long pause, he spoke. His eyes showed anger and his fat cheeks were red with rage. “Witchery craft! It’s da devil himself, sent to ruin me, ruin me! Ivory what do you haf to say for yourself? For bringing dis boy to me, bringing a living drought to my gardens.”

  Ivory's eyes grew misty and she shook her head. “I...I...didn't know.”

  “You didn't know!” Krot thundered, grabbing her pointy ears and yanking. “I'm sure you didn't! You, you, little...scheming...”

  “Stop!” Andrew cried, putting himself between Krot and Ivory. “It’s not her fault. I begged her to let me help her. I made her ask you to let me help in your gardens. You see…I was sent here by someone, to destroy this place on purpose. As a message to The Fallen, that we defy him and his armies.”

  Krot breathed in and out slowly, his large nostrils flaring as he stared from Ivory and then back to Andrew. “Who sent you?”

  “I can't say.”

  “You can't say?" Krot repeated, every second his face growing a shade redder. "Ivory look what you have brought into my gardens. Just look what you have done!”

  Ivory stepped up to Andrew, searching Andrew’s face for answerers, her eyes gleaming with tears. “I thought you were my friend, Andrew.”

  Andrew swallowed hard, and set his jaw. “I guess you thought wrong. I told you, but you wouldn't listen.”

  “I am ruined, ruined!” Krot moaned. His eyes flamed with anger and he grabbed Andrew by the collar and shook him violently. “I’ve half a mind to squeeze da breath out of you. Do you know vhat they'll do to me and da girl when they find zat half my garden is dead?”

  “No,” Andrew choked out. “W...what?”

  “They'll kill us both! Dat's vhat!”

  “Then,” Andrew said, “tell them it was me and they'll take me instead.”

  Ivory’s eyes showed surprise. “You would do that, Andrew?”

  Andrew nodded. “That’s what friends do.”

  “Yes,” Krot said, a sour smile forming on his lips. “Zat is vat friends do. But mind you, If I take you to zem, you must promise to swear to zem zat you did this. Understand!”

  Andrew nodded. “Yes. I promise. I'll take full responsibility.”

  “Good!” Krot cried, relaxing his grip on Andrew. “Ivory, come, we will take him to town before he changes his mind and runs away!"