Second Kiss by Robert Priest Page A

memory. There were a number of books in the library locket that had another text written crosswise to the regular text, utilizing the spaces between the letters and the lines. Normally due to the actions of what Anya had explained was a series of miniature tumblers and timers skillfully woven into the spines of the books by the Nains who had created them, you had to read a whole book before it could be inserted into its new slot on the opposite side of the locket. But this didn’t seem to apply to the cross-written texts. Indeed, both Xemion and Anya had tried to read some of these cross-written texts but soon found the specialized language and the enormous length of the sentences impossible to understand. When they gave up on such readings they were still able to insert the book into its new slot on the other side of the locket. He dimly remembered now that The Thaumatological Lexicon had been among them. Xemion smiled. He didn’t know for sure how they could extract it from the locket, but Sarabin had a sunscope and Veneetha Azucena had a crystal dome in her ceiling! This book could be saved! Xemion picked up the pace joyfully. Once he got back to his room he hurriedly retrieved his practice sword and took the locket from its place beneath his bed and set off with it back to the underdome.

11

    Unexpected Meetings
    A n early cross-spell had left the roads and other surfaces of the borough of Shissillil without friction. Anything thrown through the various gateways into the borough simply slid away and disappeared. This made the portal on Castle Road halfway along Phaer Point perfect for waste disposal. On evenings like this when the dark was coming in off the sea like a damp, dead sky spirit, this aspect of the portal could also be a kind of blessing to some of the more criminally inclined youth of Ulde, for instance those drink or herb Thralls, who sometimes had to dispose of their forbidden potions and liqueurs at very short notice. During the fifty years since the spell fire, other things had been disposed of here, too: weapons, poisons, even bodies, some said — living and dead. But of all the terrible deeds done here, there were surely very few that were more cowardly than the one about to be committed.
    The triplicant terrier, Jackinjo, whose three eyes were currently peering out of the net bag he was captive in, trembled as he awaited his turn. The squeals of the most recent victim still vibrated in his mind, echoing up under the cruel laughter of his captors.
    â€œAll right. Next!” a large, half-hidden figure in the shadow of the portal shouted. He wiped his lips and nodded at a fellow with a black tooth, who grabbed the mouth of the bag. Jackinjo began to whimper and whine in terror as the big man took up a thick black bat. Jackinjo’s terror increased as the bag was raised.
    â€œAre you ready?” one of the men asked. A ring of leering, laughing youths looked on, gathered about the portal, bottles hanging from their fists or tilted to their lips.
    â€œReady,” the large one said with a strange drunken leer. “Go!”
    The black-toothed fellow flung the yelping dog into the air, and as the bag came down the large man swung his thick black bat at it full force, connecting squarely with it and sending poor broken Jackinjo, with one last truncated yelp, soaring through the portal and away after his fellows, lost forever.
    The one with the bat shouted “Yes!” and gleefully took a swig from his bottle. His colleagues likewise broke into fits of laughter and began to jump up and down and suck away at their many bottles and pipes.
    Xemion did not at first notice the group as he made his way back to the underdome with the locket. He was distracted by the light of the setting sun, which shone brightly off the dark surface of a pond that stretched along the side of the road. He had to hold his hand up to his eyes to shade them from the brilliant flares of red that reflected