Free The Star Shard by Frederic S. Durbin Page B

mouth as the three biscuits slid across the wood, moving by themselves. When they bumped to a stop against the pin's shank, Loric wiggled the fingers of his other hand. The firelit stone flashed in response, and the biscuits slid away again, each moving to a different corner of the tray. One circled the cream bowl on its way.
    Then the cream rose in tendrils, stretching out of the bowl, following Loric's free hand. It stood on end like a tower of white clouds, leaving most of the bowl empty, until he let it settle again—and it was once more a rippling liquid.
    Cymbril clapped her hands in wonder and took the pin back, trying the tricks herself. But nothing she did made the stone glow any brighter. The biscuits didn't move, and the cream stayed in the bowl.
    "It takes time and practice," Loric said. "My mother would scold me for playing with food."
    While he ate and drank, Cymbril found herself telling him the story of what had happened behind Ubelard's. Then, in response to his polite urging, she recounted everything that had passed between her and the two sisters. Only on this telling, she was also honest about what had prompted her to scream at Hysthia Giltfeather.
    Loric smiled, his lustrous brown eyes searching her eyes. She looked away with a fire in her cheeks and neck that was becoming familiar lately.
    "My parents," he said, "teach that compassion can do much to unravel the tangles of life. And this is a tangled knot."
    "But I tried," Cymbril said, "with Byrni—"
    "You tried to show kindness," Loric answered, "but it was misunderstood. Perhaps if you try again, more carefully—if we look for a way together..."
    Cymbril hung her head, thinking.
    "What's wrong?" he asked, resting his chin in his palms.
    She massaged her arms, which had developed a dull ache from Berta's attack.
Why do I keep wanting to talk to you?
she wondered.
Why do I think of you all the time?
Aloud, she asked, "Am I under a Fey spell?"
    He laughed softly. "Now it would be
my
turn to go away angry, if I were not chained to the wall."
    Cymbril cocked her head.
    Loric continued. "You're suspicious of me, aren't you? You've been taught that the Fey kidnap humans."
    "Don't they, ever?"
    He shrugged. "The Dusk Folk might. I know from experience that humans capture Fey. But think about it: if I had put you under a spell, you would be dancing with your head full of moonlight and pale flowers—not worrying whether you were under a spell."
    She watched him slyly.
    "Now," he said, leaning forward, "can you tell me what Gerta and Berta want the most? What do
they
think would make them happy?"
    Cymbril didn't have to think for long. "They want to be beautiful. They're always fussing over their hair, and they can't pass a mirror without stopping."
    "Is that all?" Loric seemed to gaze far away, deep in thought. "Then I think I know a way."
    Cymbril regarded Loric carefully. In her years on the Rake, she'd seen the ways of hard-driving merchants, how they treated one another and people in general. "Why are you so eager to help me?" she asked.
    He gazed back strangely, as if puzzled by the question. "Isn't that what people do—help each other? We're all part of one another."
    "From what I've seen, most people don't help others unless there's payment involved or they're forced to," Cymbril said.
    "You're making me shiver," said Loric. "This world is cold, this place of few stars. But here's an answer that may meet with your approval. I'll help you, and at the same time, you can do something to help me."
    Cymbril shrugged. "Go on."
    Loric pushed up his right sleeve to the elbow and held his slender arm in the air. "What do you see here?" he asked.
    Cymbril frowned. Was this a magic trick? Listening for any approach in the corridor, she said impatiently, "Five fingers, including a thumb. What am I supposed to see?"
    He smiled and pointed to his bare arm near the wrist. "Look here."
    Cymbril drew a surprised breath. Strapped to Loric's arm was a