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    The Virtues of Drac
    The Virtues of Drac
    The Virtues of Drac
    Ebook435 pages6 hours

    The Virtues of Drac

    By Jeannie Meekins

    ()

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    About this ebook

    Jack finds himself trapped in the fantasy world of Drac; a world of magic, dragons, and evil doings. The world is dying. The Talisman, which stores the elemental virtues of the races and keeps the world in balance, has gone. A prophecy has been set in motion and will be fulfilled, one way or the other.
    Jack has been brought there to save the world. While travelling the lands, he begins to realise that good and evil are not so clearly defined, and all the people need to unite to save their world.

    This edition contains the full text of the trilogy:
    Into the Land of Clubs (Book one)
    Through the Land of Diamonds (Book two)
    Fallen Virtues (Book three)

    LanguageEnglish
    PublisherStorm Cloud Publishing
    Release dateFeb 8, 2016
    ISBN9781925285130
    The Virtues of Drac
    Author

    Jeannie Meekins

    Jeannie Meekins is an Australian writer who lives with her children and a couple of cats who think they own the computer. And if her dog could read, he’d be jealous, so it’s lucky that he can’t. Jeannie has also written over 10 books for children, many available through LearningIsland.com

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      Book preview

      The Virtues of Drac - Jeannie Meekins

      The Virtues of Drac

      Jeannie Meekins

      Illustrated by AT Davidson

      The Virtues of Drac

      Text copyright (c) Jeannie Meekins (2013)

      Editorial Associate Melissa Cleeman

      Illustrator (c) AT Davidson (2015)

      Published by Storm Cloud Publishing (2015)

      https://www.facebook.com/StormCloudPublishing?fref=ts

      ISBN: 978-1-925285-13-0 (Smashwords Edition)

      This ebook is licensed for your personal enjoyment only. This ebook may not be re-sold or given away to other people. If you would like to share this book with another person, please purchase an additional copy for each recipient.

      If you're reading this book and did not purchase it, or it was not purchased for your use only, please go to Smashwords.com or any online bookstore and purchase your own copy. Thank you for respecting the hard work of this author.

      Junior Fiction: Jack finds himself trapped in the dying world of Drac; a world of magic, dragons, and evil doings. A prophecy has been set in motion and will be fulfilled, one way or the other.

      Adventure quest, Children’s fantasy, Magic and Magical worlds, Hero’s journey, Fantasy creatures, Bullying and Ignorance, Conflict and Problem solving, Courage and Resourcefulness

      Ages: 8 – 12 years

      101, 900 words

      Reading Level: 2.6

      For my son, John, who gave me the idea and my daughter, Laura, who kept me going until I finished.

      A big thank you to Melissa Cleeman for seeing more in this story than I ever realised I’d put into it and helped make it as good as it is today.

      Thank you to AT Davidson for capturing the characters exactly as I saw them.

      Contents

      Chapter one

      Chapter two

      Chapter three

      Chapter four

      Chapter five

      Chapter six

      Chapter seven

      Chapter eight

      Chapter nine

      Chapter ten

      Chapter eleven

      Chapter twelve

      Chapter thirteen

      Chapter fourteen

      Chapter fifteen

      Chapter sixteen

      Chapter seventeen

      Chapter eighteen

      Chapter nineteen

      Map

      About the Author

      About the Illustrator

      Map

      Back to top

      Chapter one

      It was recess at school and the oval was full of kids. Jack was playing on the swings with his friends. He’d wanted to play footy on the oval, but Trent and his friends were there.

      We’ll play later, Rob had told Jack. When Trent’s gone.

      Jack kept glancing towards the oval to see if Trent was still there. He was, and he didn’t look like going anywhere as he took a mark and lined up for his kick.

      The footy slewed off the edge of Trent’s boot and went sideways.

      Some of the boys began laughing. Trent glared and they were soon silent, then he ran after the footy. It bounced to where some boys were playing a card game. All the boys scattered – except for one.

      He stood up and retrieved the ball as it came near him.

      Hey, you, Trent called. Give me that!

      The boy looked at the ball, then at Trent, who stopped a couple of metres short of him.

      I said, give me that, Trent demanded. What are you? Deaf or something?

      I see Trent’s at it again, Rob nodded towards Trent.

      He’s not happy unless he’s picking on someone, Jack said.

      Can I play with the footing ball with you? the boy asked.

      No, Trent stepped forward.

      Trent, let him play, one of his friends called out.

      Trent turned around and glared at the boy.

      Jack cringed. This was not going to end well. This kid with the ball didn’t know Trent. Trent always got his own way.

      Gimme the ball! Trent snatched the ball from the kid.

      I just want play the footing ball with you, the kid said.

      You can’t even talk properly, Trent laughed. Where are you from? Another planet?

      Trent’s friends all laughed. The kid didn’t seem upset.

      You can give me your lunch money too, Trent demanded.

      The kid frowned. Why? Don’t you have any?

      Oh, I got plenty. I just want yours too.

      Jack was about to ignore it, but a sudden anger came over him. Trent shouldn’t be allowed to get away with it. He looked around, but there were no teachers nearby.

      Jack jumped off the swing. He took a breath and walked over to Trent. Leave him alone, Trent.

      Trent turned his attention to Jack. What did you say?

      I said, leave him alone. You’ve got your footy. Now just go back and play.

      Trent turned to his friends, a malicious smile forming. He tossed the ball to one of them, then turned back to Jack.

      You can give me your lunch money too.

      I don’t have any.

      Really? Well, I’ll just have to search you and find out. Trent stepped forward.

      Jack stepped back. His nose tingled and he remembered the blood nose Trent had given him last year. He felt himself begin to shake. Stop it, Trent.

      Trent raised both hands and shoved Jack hard in the chest. Jack stumbled back. Trent went to shove him again, when he stopped, looking over Jack’s shoulder. Jack turned and followed his gaze, and saw a teacher approaching.

      You’ll keep, Jack, Trent hissed before taking the footy from his friend and racing back to the oval.

      Thanking you, the boy smiled at Jack.

      Jack didn’t remember seeing this kid before. He must be new. He was small with dark skin, and the most brilliant blue eyes Jack had ever seen.

      Trent’s a bully, Jack said. Stay away from him.

      Everything all right over here? the teacher asked.

      Yes, Miss, Jack answered.

      The teacher looked at the other kid, but he said nothing.

      All right then. The teacher walked away.

      The kid bent down and picked up the cards. He quickly worked them into a stack, tapping the edges with his fingers until they formed a neat block. Then he took an open-sided box from his pocket. He placed the cards in the box, then took the bottom off the box and fitted it over the top. Jack realised the box had been sitting in its lid. The gilded surface had a delicate pattern etched into it that Jack couldn’t quite make out.

      The boy smiled at Jack as he slipped the deck of cards into his pocket. Then he turned and skipped away.

      The bell rang to end recess. Jack raced to line up outside his classroom door.

      During class, Jack thought about Trent. Trent was a bully. He pushed other kids around, took their lunch money and homework – and pretended it was his. Most times, the teachers did nothing.

      Jack never had any lunch money because he always brought his lunch from home. Even so, when lunchtime arrived, Jack kept an eye out for Trent. He also looked around for the kid with the cards. But he didn’t see him.

      Must have found somewhere else to play, Jack decided.

      When he got home from school that afternoon, Jack told him mum about Trent.

      If you don’t tell the teachers, then they can’t do anything, she told him.

      I know, but... Jack sighed. There was always a but.

      But Trent will only get angry.

      But Trent will come after me tomorrow.

      But Trent never gets into trouble.

      Jack’s mum sat him down at the table. She pulled up a chair and sat opposite him. Look, Jack, I know you only wanted to help this other boy. But kids like Trent don’t listen.

      And now he’s going to come after me, ’cos I stood up for that new kid. So how do I stop him?

      You could always ignore him. Turn the other cheek.

      Why? So he can hit that one?

      No. Take away his power.

      Huh? Jack looked up at his mum and frowned.

      Bullies only pick on people who they think are weaker than them. Or who they know won’t fight back. I’m not saying you should fight him, because that’s wrong. You need to be smarter than him.

      Jack’s head dropped, and he stared at the table. I’m not.

      You are, Jack. Mum reached across and squeezed his hand. You just don’t know it.

      He looked up, hoping she would say more. But she let go of his hand and sat back in her chair.

      Have you got any homework? she asked.

      Yes, Jack answered.

      Maths?

      He shook his head. English. Comprehension and essay writing.

      Ah, she nodded her head knowingly. Do you want to start now? I’ve got a bit of time before I have to start tea.

      Jack shook his head. I can’t think straight. And they use all these big words that I don’t understand.

      Mum smiled. Come on. Take it out and I’ll look at it with you.

      Jack looked down at his school bag on the floor near his feet.

      The sooner you start, the sooner you finish, Mum encouraged.

      Jack reached into his bag and pulled out his books and pencil case. He took out a pencil, then opened his book to the page with his homework.

      Jack stared at the page. There were long sentences and big words. He chewed on the end of his pencil while he tried to make sense of it.

      You just need to clear your mind and forget all about Trent, Mum told him. Read the questions properly, so you understand exactly what they’re asking. And if it’s not clear, read it again.

      That was okay for Mum to say, Jack sighed. It wasn’t her homework.

      A few days later, Jack was on his way home from school. A lady with a long skirt and long shawl stood on the edge of the footpath. She was hunched over, leaning her weight on a wooden walking stick. The long shawl covered her head and most of her upper body, draping down over her arms.

      The road wasn’t particularly busy, but the cars that were on it came whizzing past. The lady looked both ways. Every time she went to step onto the road, a car came by, making her jump back to the safety of the footpath.

      Jack could see that she was never going to get across. And if she did get onto the road, she was likely to get hit.

      He looked around. Both sides of the street were lined with houses, and the footpath was empty. There was no one else around.

      He walked over to the lady. Would you like some help?

      She jumped at the sound of his voice.

      She turned to him, but she remained hunched over so he couldn’t see her face properly. She had a slight reddish tinge, and Jack thought she was probably a bit frustrated by not being able to get across the road.

      That would be lovely, dear, she answered. My eyesight isn’t what it used to be.

      She grabbed his arm with her free hand. Her skin was flushed and wrinkly; her hand bony. She had a strong grip, which seemed a contradiction to her frail appearance.

      What’s your name, dear? she asked as they waited for a break in the traffic.

      Jack, he answered.

      Jack, she repeated. A fine name for a fine boy.

      She went to step off the footpath.

      No, no, there’s a car coming. Jack grabbed her arm and pulled her back as the car shot past less than a metre from them.

      Oh, my! Didn’t see that one at all! she exclaimed.

      She continued chattering, half to herself, half to Jack, as they waited for a break in the traffic.

      Okay, it’s clear now, Jack announced a minute later.

      They stepped off the footpath and began to cross the road.

      She waved her stick in front of her as she stepped, checking for obstacles before putting the tip to the ground and resting her weight on it as she walked.

      Jack thought she walked quite quickly for an old person.

      He was about to tell her they had reached the other side when the tip of her stick touched the gutter and moved upwards. She planted it on firm ground and stepped up the gutter to the footpath.

      Clear of the road, she stopped, still clinging tightly to Jack’s arm.

      You are most kind.

      Jack shrugged. Anyone would do the same.

      Not anyone. She let go of his arm and reached under her shawl. Please let me repay your kindness.

      No. Jack stepped away, lifting his hands in protest. That’s not necessary. Really.

      She looked up at him from beneath her shawl. Her face was flushed and there was a hint of blue in her shadowed eyes. Then she lowered her head as she fidgeted around under her shawl.

      Oh, but I insist.

      I’ve got to get home. Jack backed away. You have a good day.

      He turned and headed home.

      Such a kind boy, he heard her mutter.

      He wondered if he should walk her to her home or wherever she was going. It didn’t seem right to just leave her on the side of the road. He debated it for a few more steps before guilt took over.

      He turned back, about to ask her if she needed any more help. She was gone. He scratched his head as he looked down the row of houses. Maybe she lived in one of them, he decided.

      He shrugged and headed for home again.

      The following evening, Jack was putting out the rubbish. He heard some kids arguing and looked down the street. Rob, Jess and several of his friends were standing around a stormwater drain. Something was going on, but he couldn’t make out what anyone was saying.

      Jack dumped the rubbish in the bin and ran over to join his friends. What’s going on? he asked.

      Can’t you hear it? Jess asked.

      Jack couldn’t hear anything with all the talking. He shook his head.

      Be quiet, everyone, Jess spoke loudly.

      They obeyed, and Jack heard a soft miaowing.

      Hear it now? she asked.

      Jack nodded.

      We’ve got to get it out, she cried. The poor kitty’s stuck there.

      Jack looked at the small rectangular gap in the gutter. No one could fit down there. How?

      We tried moving the cover, Rob told him. But it’s too heavy. Maybe you can help us.

      Jack looked at the rectangular concrete slab. He doubted that his strength would make any difference.

      Jack, Rob and two other boys crouched down, putting their fingers in any gap they could find around the edge of the cover. The miaowing drifted upwards.

      Hurry, Jess cried. It’s scared.

      Ready? Rob asked. Lift.

      They all heaved, but the cover stayed in place.

      Again.

      Again, nothing happened. Jack felt his muscles were going to burst. He heard the cat miaowing, Jess crying and the boys heaving and straining as they tried to lift.

      It’s no good, Jack puffed as he let go. It’s too heavy.

      Rob stood up, sighing and wiping his sweaty brow with his sleeve.

      Jess grabbed Rob by the front of his shirt. You have to do something, she pleaded. It’s going to die!

      Wait a minute, Jack thought aloud. If we can wedge something into one of these cracks, then we might be able to lever it off.

      Jess still had hold of Rob’s shirt as she turned to Jack. Something like what?

      I don’t know. Jack scratched his head. A shovel, or something... I think we’ve got one in our garage. I’ll go have a look.

      Jack bolted back up the street and down the driveway into his garage. He flicked the light switch on to see properly. There were all sorts of tools in there. Leaning against one wall were a shovel, a couple of rakes and a crowbar.

      Jack smiled. The crowbar was nearly as big as he was. It was heavy iron and flattened at one end. Just the thing for wedging into small gaps.

      It was heavier than he thought and he struggled to pick it up. He rushed back to the drain as fast as he could.

      Look out, he told everyone. I’ve got a crowbar.

      They moved apart enough for him to get to the drain cover. He inserted the flat end into one of the gaps and pushed it in as far as it would go. Then he moved to the end of the crowbar and leaned down on it with all his strength and weight. The cover moved slightly; concrete grinding against metal.

      But it wasn’t enough to move the cover off.

      Jack eased off on the crowbar and the cover fell back into place. I need some help.

      Another two boys lined up along the crowbar. The three of them leaned on it. The cover lifted a couple of inches.

      Quick! Move it to the side! Jack groaned.

      The boys pulled the crowbar to one side. The cover moved in the opposite direction. Some of the other boys helped push the cover from the side, and it slid onto the grass. There was a gap big enough for someone to fit down the drain.

      The boys let go the crowbar and crowded around the drain. Jack levered the crowbar out from under the cover and lay it on the ground. Then he tried to see into the dark drain.

      Anyone got a torch? Rob was leaning over the gap, looking down. Here, kitty, kitty. Where are you?

      The cat miaowed.

      Someone arrived with a torch and shone it into the drain. The cat’s eyes reflected like two bike lights.

      Okay, it’s still here, Rob announced.

      Of course it’s still there, Jess told him. I can still hear it.

      Okay, Rob looked up. Don’t panic. We’re getting him out.

      Then he looked around.

      "Who’s going down there?’

      Everyone except Jack shook their heads and stepped back.

      Jack! Good boy, Rob grinned at him. Down you go.

      What? Hang on...? Jack looked around at the others as they backed further away. I didn’t...

      He looked at Jess. She was looking at him with such hope in her eyes.

      Okay, Jess, I’ll get your cat.

      It’s not my cat, Jess replied. I just hate to think it’s stuck down there.

      It doesn’t matter whose cat it is, Rob interrupted. Jack’s going to get it out.

      Jack looked at Rob. How?

      Rob shone the torch back down the drain. It’s only about two metres. Just climb down, grab the cat and I’ll pull you back up again.

      Jack looked down the drain. It was pretty dark down there. It was also starting to get pretty dark up here as he noticed that the streetlights had come on. Then he looked at Jess again. If he didn’t do this, then he’d never hear the end of it from her.

      He shook his head, then sat down on the edge of the drain, dangling his feet into the darkness below. He turned onto his stomach, and slowly slid down the side. The concrete was dry, but he could smell the stagnant water below.

      He moved lower, until his face was below the level of the ground and he hung onto the edge by his hands. His feet hadn’t touched the bottom.

      How far is it? he called back up to Rob.

      Rob shone the torch down past Jack. Not far.

      Jack looked around his body to see what was below. The cat sat in a corner staring up at him. A pool of water covered most of the bottom. He had no idea how deep it was, but figured it wouldn’t be much or there’d be no dry bit. It looked about a foot or so below him.

      He let go his hands and dropped down.

      He landed in the water. A little shot up his legs. Most of it sprayed sideways, covering the cat, which hissed and spat.

      Good shot, Rob praised him. Oww! Jess!

      Don’t be mean, Rob, Jess growled.

      Pick on a girl, you usually got hit, Jack smiled.

      The water stank and Jack’s body cast creepy shadows in the torchlight.

      He looked at the cat. It hissed at him, its lips and whiskers pulled back showing its sharp teeth.

      Come here, kitty, he spoke quietly as he crouched down. I’m not going to hurt you.

      As he reached a hand to the cat, it lifted a paw, showing its claws, and hissed again.

      Great. I’m here to rescue you, and all you want to do is attack me.

      Have you got it, Jack? Jess called down.

      It doesn’t like me, Jack called back.

      Maybe if you had some treats for it.

      Treats? Where was he supposed to get treats from?

      The cat began to wash itself. Jack could hear it begin to purr softly.

      Good, you’re calming down. Now, if you want to get out of here... He slowly reached out his hand again.

      The cat watched him.

      You’re going to have to let me...

      The cat’s eyes followed his movement as he neared its head. Its lip began to curl back and it stopped purring.

      Get you! Jack dived his hand over the cat’s head, grabbing a handful of fur as its mouth opened. He quickly picked it up by the scruff of the neck.

      The cat was more startled by the fact that it was no longer on the ground than it was by Jack grabbing it. Claws out, all four legs began swimming in mid air as it looked for something to grab onto. Jack held it at arms distance, talking quietly to it.

      After a short struggle, it gave up, retracting its claws and miaowing softly.

      Poor thing. You’re probably exhausted and scared, Jack told it. Who knows how long you’ve been down here.

      He moved it closer to his body. When it didn’t try to attack him again, he cradled it into his windcheater with his free arm and began to stroke it.

      There you go. That’s a good kitty.

      The cat began to purr again.

      Then Jack looked up. Okay, you can get me up.

      Rob lay down and reached one arm into the drain. Jack reached one arm up to him. Their fingertips brushed each other.

      Rob inched forward, and his hand reached a bit lower.

      Take the cat. Jack lifted the cat up to Rob. Make sure you get a good grip on it.

      Rob’s hand groped around in the fur. The cat squawked as he grabbed it tight.

      Okay, got it.

      Jack let go, and Rob lifted the cat out. A few seconds later, Rob reached back down. Jack jumped up and grabbed his hand.

      Rob tried to pull him up and Jack scrambled against the side with his feet. But his shoes were wet and slipped against the concrete. He banged his knees on the hard surface.

      Stop wriggling, Rob told him. Just let me pull you up.

      Jack looked up to see a couple of the other boys helping Rob. They grabbed both his arms and he was soon lifted up. As his face cleared the drain, the boys changed direction. They began to move backwards, pulling him along the ground.

      You can let go. I can do it, Jack told them as he felt his hips scrape on the sharp, concrete edge.

      The boys let go, and Jack scrambled clear. He looked around for the cat, but it had gone.

      Thank you, Jack. Jess rushed up to him, a huge smile on her face.

      Jack blushed. Any idea whose cat it is?

      We had new neighbours move in last week, Jess answered. It’s probably theirs.

      Oh.

      Jack turned at the sound of scraping concrete. The boys were using the crowbar to put the cover back on the drain. It fell back into place with a loud bang.

      Rob wrenched the crowbar out and passed it to Jack. Here you go, Jack.

      Thanks, Rob.

      The crowd quickly dispersed. Jack headed back home with the crowbar, and put it away in the garage.

      As he closed the garage door, he saw the cat sitting on the fence between his house and the neighbours.

      There you are, said Jack. I hope you’ve learnt to stay out of drains now.

      The cat just stared at him. In the fading evening light, its grey, tabby coat looked wet and scruffy. Its shining eyes had a hint of blue.

      It miaowed softly, then turned and jumped down the other side of the fence, disappearing from Jack’s view.

      Saturday morning and Jack was up early. The sun shone, but there was still an early morning chill as he walked to the main shopping strip.

      There were lots of good shops here. There was the butcher and the fruit and vegetable shop next to each other, where the fruit shop owner always let customers taste the new season’s grapes and cherries. There were a couple of cafes and some take away shops. The hot bread kitchen always smelled delicious in the mornings with the aromas of freshly baked goods.

      Jack took a deep sniff. He wasn’t anywhere near the kitchen and already he could smell the warm bread and homemade pies.

      There was a post office, a newsagent, and a couple of clothing shops. There were some of specialty shops, selling homewares or electricals and such. The scent of fresh flowers drifted across the road from the florist, mingling with the warm bread smells.

      Jack stopped suddenly. About three quarters of the way along the strip was a shop he had never seen before. Jack thought he knew all the shops here, and he didn’t remember any new ones opening. This one looked old, like it had been here for years. The fancy lettering arched across the front window said: Antiques.

      Jack pressed his hands and face against the glass, shading his eyes from the glaring light around him. Inside was an assortment of treasures. Walls were lined with ornaments and books. The floor was covered with furniture. There were armchairs covered in velvet and leather, rocking chairs adorned with patchwork quilts, and tables of all sizes and styles, most covered with ornaments. At a far wall, stood a writing desk. Its lid was raised, displaying drawers and hutches filled with stationery.

      The room appeared to be empty – until Jack saw a figure that he first thought was a statue. A small, balding man with big ears and dressed in overalls was halfway up a ladder. He reached to a shelf, taking a small figurine from it, and dusting it with the cloth he held in his other hand. Then he reached back to the shelf and replaced it.

      He was about to pick up another figurine when he turned suddenly and stared at Jack.

      Oi, you, he called, pointing the cloth to the window.

      Jack pushed away instantly. He looked around anxiously as though he thought everyone in the street had been alerted by the strange man.

      The door opened and Jack jumped.

      You, boy, the man snapped.

      I wasn’t doing anything, Jack answered, suddenly wondering how the man had got to the door so quickly when he’d been up the ladder. Honest, I wasn’t.

      The man seemed to realise that he had frightened Jack and his tone calmed. I have just cleaned that window this very morning and I don’t want grotty little hands and faces all over it. If you want to have a look, come inside.

      Jack didn’t want to go in, but he did want to prove to this strange, little man that he was not afraid of him. He was almost as tall as the man, and he was sure he could run faster.

      Is there anything in particular you’re looking for? the man asked, opening the door wider for Jack to enter.

      Jack shrugged and buried his hands in the pockets of his jeans. He felt the crisp clean note and coins of his pocket money that reminded him why he was in town on that Saturday morning.

      It’s my mum’s birthday next week and I want to buy her a present.

      Look around. The man spread his arms around, showing the entire shop. Is there anything you like?

      I don’t know. She likes all this old stuff.

      The man’s eyes narrowed slightly for a moment. A lovely rocking chair – out of your price range?

      Jack nodded.

      Ornaments... Books... I have many classics.

      Jack was not fond of reading and it showed on his face.

      I have some jewellery under the counter. Necklaces, bracelets, a fine selection of rings.

      Jack drifted towards the counter. It was a glass showcase, a little over a metre high and close to three metres long. It had two shelves. The top shelf was covered with neatly displayed boxed jewellery. Some antique pieces were in their original packaging. Others were arranged in groups: gold chained necklaces, silver chained necklaces, chain bracelets, solid bracelets, jewelled bracelets, and so many types of rings that Jack just sighed and shook his head. The bottom shelf had watches and some small clocks.

      The man rushed behind the counter to be of service, rubbing his hands together in anticipation of a sale. Jack barely registered any interest in what he saw as he looked at the price tags. Way out of his price range. He doubted there was anything in the shop that was under a hundred dollars – until his eye caught the small rock sitting on the counter.

      At first, he thought it was a paperweight. But it was too small. He reached for it, picking it up and turning it over. It was more like a crystal than a rock. It sat neatly in the palm of his hand, and it was warm to touch. The shop was not well lit but the smooth surfaces of the crystal seemed to draw in the light, holding it in its opaque depths.

      Do you like it? the man asked.

      It’s all right, Jack shrugged. Mum likes that kind of thing and it does catch the light.

      He was about to put it down and move onto something else.

      Look at it more closely, the man spoke quietly, almost hypnotically. What do you see?

      Jack did so, staring at one of the flat surfaces, and frowned. Umm... nothing.

      Look deeper. Look inside.

      Jack bent his head down until his eyes were only centimetres from the crystal. The crystal felt warmer in his hand; its opaqueness began to clear. Blue and green emerged and began to separate.

      Whoa! Jack’s eyes lit up.

      The green turned to trees and grassy hills. The blue became sky.

      It’s like there’s some sort of picture forming in here.

      Deeper, the man instructed.

      Jack closed one eye to look closer. The world of the crystal opened up before him.

      Suddenly, he felt himself falling. Wind rushed past him and his arms and legs waved about as the ground seemed to rush up at him. He closed his eyes, thinking that he was going to crash into the ground, when he landed softly. He looked around quickly.

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