Crystal (Silver Hills #2) (4 page)

"A bunch of bull," Alexa added.

"Do it," I agreed.  I clenched my fists together, a little relieved that all Brett had prepared was a few pointless words on
piece of paper.  He smirked as
he opened his mouth and utter
ed
the first line.

My head buzzed as I craned my neck to hear more clearly.  I could barely make out the words he was saying.  A sharp prick poked the edge of my ankle and made its way up my calves.  I grimaced from the uncomfortable stings and tried to grab my legs
, but I couldn't move
.  My entire body was frozen.

I bit the side of my cheek so hard I could taste blood oozing towards my gums.  My hand was throbbing and a burning sensation pierced my entire arm.  My vision went blurry and that's when I screamed.  I still couldn't move but my shrieking cries were able to burst from my throat.  A cloud of green smoke surround
ed
me as my hand continued to burn like it was stuck in a blazing fireplace.  My heart pounded against the bones in my chest and my blood felt like it was boiling through my veins.  I let out one last scream, panic
king as I yelled for my feet to move.  They wouldn't.

A raspy breath beside me gave me goose bumps.  I could feel the presence of something else, but I couldn't see.  I screamed again, letting tears flood over my eyes.  The heavy breathing came closer.  My chest was slamming a
gainst my rib cage so violently
I could've sworn I was having a heart attack.  The tears cleared from my eyes and my throat froze like a block of ice as all the air escaped from my lungs.  I was breathless, in excruciating pain, and standing in front of a pair of angry red eyes.  The raspy breathing quickened as the owner of the blood red eyes boomed its voice through my entire being.  "NO!"

Chapter
Four

Zircon

The pain was wiped away in an instant and I automatically covered my face with my hands.
  I was too scared to pull them away for fear of seeing those blood red eyes again.  The image of them blazing with rage was burned into my memory.  I wanted it out.

"Miss Dotti
!"  A pounding headache pulsed b
ehind my eyes as a distant beat
ing filled my ears.  "Miss
Dotti
!  I'm coming in!"
  I rubbed my forehead, choking down a breath as I realized I was no longer standing.  I was lying face down in a bed of silky sheets.

"Miss Dotti?"  Someone was standing over me.  I grunted, unsure of what to do. 
Who?
  "You should have been ready an hour ago."  The smooth sheet covering my body was pulled aside.  I heard a gasp.  "Your attire, Miss Dotti.  What kind of night gown is this?" 
A bony finger pinched my pant leg. 
I finally glanced up at a frantic brunette with short hair and rosy cheeks.  She wore a long beige dress that looked as if a breeze was moving it from side to side.

"Who is . . ."  I stopped when I noticed the color of her eyes - a black eyeball with a white pupil.
  "Who are you?"  I slowly sat up, feeling the comforting handle of my pocket knife.  I
t was still with me . . . wher
ever I was.

"Oh no," the girl whispered.  I gripped my knife
even tighter as my sore throat sizzled
from all the screaming.

"Who are you?" I said again.

"Opi," the girl replied.  Her jaw hung open as she stared at my eyes.
  I glanc
ed down at my ski coat and blue jeans
, relieved to see that my hand was still intact
.
  T
he burning pains through my palm
made me think it might have burst into flames and fallen to
the floor.  I was grateful
the pain was gone.  My skin was a smooth normal color, and my grandma's ring was
in one piece
.  The dark stone in the silver
sparkled with a tint of green.

"Okay Crystal," I breathed, lightly hitting my cheeks.  "Time to wake up."  I counted my breaths, closing my eyes as my sweaty forehead tingled.  "Wake up, Crystal.  Wake up."

"
Zite," Opi muttered.  She cupped her hand over her mouth.  I flinched when I opened my eyes only to see th
e strange color combo in her
s.  "I guess she was right."

"Who was right?" I questioned.

"Come with me," she said, hurriedly grabbing my elbow and pulling towards an adjacent room.  I kept the handle of my pocket knife locked in my fingers.

"What?" I replied.  My first instinct was to resist - to scream some more and hope to wake up in my own bed.  But something about the expression on Opi's face made me feel like my co
operation was vital.  I eyed
each corner of the room as I followed. 

A giant
,
wooden
armoi
r
e
sat against the opposite wall.  The wood was carved with shapes and symbols that looked like a night time backdrop
- stars
of
swirling gas protruding from the surface
.  The comfy bed was nestled on a matching bed frame - the same wood carvings.  The stone floors were perfectly white.  Spotless even.

"We have to cover your face," Opi huffed as she jogged into a tiny room the size of a closet.  Colorful dresses hung in each corner - all swaying on their own like Opi's gown.  "Your eyes . . ."

"
My
eyes?"  I watched her dig through a trunk of fabric before pulling out a sheer veil. 
My eyes aren't the problem here. 
Opi draped the veil over my face.  The smell of citrus filled my nostrils.  She jumped, grasping her chest as someone furiously pounded on the b
edroom door.  Opi turned to me,
the white of her pupils wide with fear.

"Listen to me," she whispered.  "You're name is Peridot, but you go by Dotti.  You tend to your
Phire tree every morning before tea and you're allergic to lavender."

"Opi," I said through my teeth.  "What's going on?"

"DON'T let them see your eye
s," she insisted.  "I beg you, M
iss!"  She frantically rushed out of the closet and opened the door.  Heavy footsteps thudded against the stone floor. 

"Where is she?" a deep voice boomed.  I emerged from the closet, looking down as a tall man wearing a strange suit shooed Opi out the door.  "Leave us."  His command struck my body like thunder.  I snuck a glance at the dark hair that came to his shoulders and the bright shiny orange and yellow that lit up on his suit jacket.  I quietly gulped as Opi slammed the
bedroom door, leaving
us alone.

"
I thought you would have chosen a finer outfit for such an occasion," he said as his glare moved from my toes to my hunched shoulders.
  "After all I've taught you?  You are capable of conjuring up a better gown than that."

"Um . . ."  I was speechless.  Not to mentioned mesmerized by the parade of colors that danced across his clothes.

"I suppose I should cut to the business at hand," he continued.  The loud tone of his voice gradually died down.  "Well . . . did it work?"

"Uh . . ."  I bit the corner of my lip, hoping an answer would come to me.  I had no idea what he was talking about.  "You mean . . . the thing?"

"Dotti," he replied.  "This isn't the time to play your little games.  Did it work?" 

"Yes?" I guessed.  His white pupils grew to the size of cereal bowls.  "Or . . . no?"

"
I don't find your jokes very amusing," he sighed, obviously disappointed.  "We must have cast the wrong spell."

"Yeah," I improvised.  "It didn't work?"

"Zite," he said under his breath.  "I'll have to go back."

"Back?"

"Back to the Sard of course," he said out loud as he scratched the edge of his chin.  "It won't be easy this time."
  He ran his fingers through his long, dark hair.  "I guess you'll have to go through with this.  I'm sorry, Dotti.  I really thought our plan would work."

"And what was our plan exactly?" I asked.  He eyed my forehead suspiciously.

"You sound . . . different," he said in a low voice.

"No," I blurted out.  The spark of curiosity in his white pupils made my muscles tense like I was about to be punched in the gut.  "I'm just feeling . . .
a little under the weather
."
 
His hand moved towards my forehead, ready to tear away the veil that stood between us.
I swiftly slapped it, regretting my decision but quickly pulling myself together. 

"Hmmm," he said, lifting his chin.  Apparently I'd chosen a very Dotti-like move.  "Fine."  He turned sharply, striding towards the bedroom door.  "I'll see you downstairs.  You best be ready.  Zircon has just arrived."  He yanked open the door and his heavy foot
steps disappeared down the hall
way.  I let out a huge sigh as Opi came rushing in once more.

"
You must change quickly," Opi said as she slammed the door shut, this time locking it.  She hurried back to the closet and opened a tiny door I hadn't noticed before.  It looked like part of the wall.

"Change for what?" I impatiently asked.  "
What is going on here?  Why haven't I woken up yet?"  The white pupils, the moving clothes, the unfamiliar symbols carved on the bedroom furniture - it had to be a dream.  Nonsense like this couldn't exist in real life.
 
Maybe I'm dead?

"Take off those rags," she instructed.  She pulled a sparkly, white
dress from the back of the
disguised door in the wall and gently laid it on the bed.

"I'm not doing anything of the sort," I shouted. 
I pulled my veil off and
slapped the
side of my face
- harder than I did last time.  The side of my cheek stung as I closed my eyes.  "Time to wake up.  Time to wake up."

"
It's no use."  Opi unzipped the garment bag and turned her head as a burst of light escaped from it.  "You can't go back."

"Back to where?"  I opened my eyes, disappointed when I saw Opi's face.

"To where you're from Miss," Opi replied.
  She pulled out a beautiful, white gown with
silky fabric that hung straight and shapeless.

"You mean reality," I muttered.  "And who was that guy with the flashy suit?  He seemed . . . different."  Opi smiled.

"That was Nuum," she said quietly.  "Your father's most trusted advisor."

"You mean
Dotti's
father," I corrected.
  "Why did that weirdo think I was Dotti?"

"You look just like her,"
Opi responded.  A strand of
brunette hair fell across her face as she held up the
gleaming
white dress.
  "Apart from the eyes . . . and the arrogance.  But I'd say you're coming close."  My eyebrows furrowed.

"What is that?" I asked, pointing to th
e long train of fabric that recoil
ed
like a cat
when it touched the floor.

"Your dress," she answered.

"Ah yes," I played along.  Anything to get me out of this place
and back to Silver Hills
.  "Zircon has arrived.  What is that?  A
freaky circus act or something?"

"Zircon is a man," Opi began.  "He is here for Miss Peridot."

"You mean like a date?" I chuckled.

"No."  Opi pinched the side of my ski coat, staring at it like it w
as a dirty mess she didn't care
to touch more than she had to.  "Take that thing off so I can dress you, Miss."

"Dress me for what?" I asked, taking a step back as I clutch
ed
my zipper.

"Your wedding."

I practically choked
.  I was getti
ng married in
a
strange place to
a guy who called himself Zircon?  This was a first.  My wed
ding dreams usually didn't last
long, and
I
could never clearly see my groom.  This dream was VERY clear.  A little too clear.

"If I do this will I f
inally wake up?" I asked, hoping
Opi might have an answer for me.  She shot me a confused look.

"If you don't," she replied.  "You'll be marked as a traitor."

"
I've been called worse."

"An accusation punishable by execution," she whispered, shifting her eyes around the room.  "You must take Miss Dotti's place if you wish to last any longer."

"Right," I muttered.  "Okay whatever.  I just hope when I finally wake up, I'm not waking from a year long coma or something."

"What is a coma?"
  Opi eagerly held out the silky dress.  Was this
really the best my subconscious could come up with?
  I unzipped my jacket and pulled my t-shirt over my blond hair.

"Let's get this over with," I murmured.  All I could think about was Brett.  If this was the quickest way to see him, I was ready to take a trip through loonyville in order to wake up.