|
|
|
|
Chapter Seven
Research
Leaving the pub they followed the flow of traffic towards the river. Keeping an eye on Sark she noticed him deftly snatching two more pouches from unsuspecting citizens. Catching her eye he raised an eyebrow as if challenging her to say anything. In response she nicked her own pouch, a corner of his mouth lifted before he turned his head away. She wasn’t going to depend on Sark for money; she wanted to have her own funds to draw on. She did feel bad, but desperate times…
The crowd was quite thick as they reached the docks and she was bumped into a little old lady. “I’m sorry.” She held out a hand to steady the older woman.
“That’s all right dearie. Would you like to purchase Book One of the 10 Kingdoms?” She held up a blue book with gold lettering.
She opened her mouth when the lady spoke again, “It’ll give you something to read on your trip upriver.”
“How’d you know I’m going upriver?” She peered at her suspiciously.
The older lady cackled, literally cackled, “Everyone’s headed upriver. It’s the anniversary of King Wendell’s return to his rightful body and everyone’s visiting the sites on his journey.” She leaned in close to Sydney, “He was changed into a dog by his evil stepmother, jumped through a traveling mirror into the 10th Kingdom of New York and brought back Virginia and her father to help him on his quest.”
“Really,” she considered the book.
“Sydney.” Sark grabbed her elbow.
She looked at him, he almost seemed worried. “What?”
He pursed his lips, “Why didn’t you tell me you stopped?”
She shook off his hand and took the proffered book, “Here pay her for this book.”
“What?” He stared at her.
“Pay her.” She nodded at the old women who stood with her palm up.
Grudgingly he produced some money and the old woman promptly disappeared into the crowd.
“Why, pray tell, did you need another book? And why did I have to pay for it? You’ve your own money.” He groused while guiding her through the crowd, hand firmly on her elbow.
“Always get as much intel as you can.” She tucked the book under her arm after a brief flip through its pages.
“That didn’t answer why I had to pay.” He mumbled what she was sure was a rhetorical question.
She stood back letting Sark haggled with the captain of what she was generously referring to as the boat, smiling and batting her eyelashes at appropriate moments. Shortly they boarded the crowed boat and quickly secured spots against the railing on the deck, no cabins here.
Sitting in her dress was no problem; she’d had plenty of practice. After taking a quick glance around she decided to pull out the book she’d just purchased. Looking over the cover, it was beautifully bound; she noticed for the first time that the author was one Virginia Lewis-Wolfssen. Intrigued she opened to the first page and quickly became captivated by the story.
She looked up briefly when the deck lurched, deduced the boat was setting sail, checked that Sark was still next to her, yes, and went back to reading. Sometime later Sark said something to her, she made an affirmative noise and kept reading barely noticing that he had left her side.
Her reading was again interrupted when a hand with a biscuit appeared in front of the words. Blinking at it she turned to look at Sark.
“Hungry?”
She hadn’t been not until he’d said something. “Yeah, thanks.” She awkwardly told him and accepted the biscuit. “What is it?” She asked as she took a bite.
“A bacon sandwich. Supposedly it’s ‘historically’ accurate.” He dryly told her.
She made ‘uhhuh’ noise chewing her mouthful quickly, a piece of bacon dangled from between her lips. Audaciously Sark poked it into her mouth with his finger causing her to still briefly and shoot him a furious look.
Swallowing she dangerously pointed out, “You shouldn’t stick your fingers into people’s mouths.” Then flashed her white, shiny, sharp teeth at him. He remanded unperturbed so she went on.
“Bacon sandwiches were mentioned in the book. It actually has a lot of good information in it.” She pointed out before getting back to the sandwich.
Sark tilted the book so he could skim the pages she was on. “It looks like a romance novel.” He disdainfully noted.
“This part is romantic.” She corrected him. Wolf was trying to romance Virginia with expensive gifts and dinner. “Beside it gives valuable information on the town we’re headed to. Kissing Town.”
He shook his head at the absurd name and stood up.
“Where are you going?” She questioned him while trying to remove crumbs without wiping her hand on the book or her dress.
“I’m going to look around. Go back to your ‘research’.” He sarcastically told her then promptly walked off without giving her the courtesy of responding.
bravenet.com