crossing his arms over his glistening chest. “You people from Atcha are all the same, arrogant and ignorant in the ways of my people!”
Lilith blinked. “People from Atcha? I’m from Atlantis.”
“Atlantis. Atcha. It makes no difference,” he said, shrugging. “At least those of your people who arrived here long before the great flood treat us with respect. At least they attempt to understand and adapt. You recent arrivals seem above us, act better than us.”
“We do not!” Lilith stamped her foot. Her woven palm leaf sandal decorated with pearls flew off her foot and landed beside a pile of broken pottery.
In a huff, Lilith limped to retrieve her sandal. She kicked at the pieces of glazed pots and shards of ceramic goblets, fishing around the debris with her sandaled foot. A sudden movement caught her eye. It looked like an insect—a white crawler with eight legs, two front pinching claws, and an odd-shaped tail that curled over its back. Lilith squinted. It was almost the size of her hand and seemed to possess a sharp point on the end of its tail. She was about to kick it when she felt a warm body knock her to the ground. The boy was on top of her, his breathing labored, his skin sticky, yet sweet smelling.
“Are you mad, Atcha-girl?”
“I was about to ask you that,” Lilith conjured up an appropriate response, “bug-boy!”
He wiped his brow. “My name is Tau, not bug-boy!”
“Humph! Well, my name is Lilith, not Atcha-girl!”
“Do you know what you were about to kick?” He pointed in the direction of the clay debris.
Still a little dazed, she shrugged. “I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me.”
Tau grunted. “Maybe I shouldn’t. You Atchas think you’re so smart.”
“I’m smart enough to know how to rid myself of a pest like you!” Lilith seethed.
Lilith roughly pushed Tau off her, then stood. Her robe was riddled with dust. She patted herself down while walking toward her orphaned sandal. She noticed that the dumb white crawler with the curled tail had claimed her sandal and was lying on top of it trying to sun itself. Lilith rolled her fingers into the palm of her hands, her long nails beginning to cut into her skin. She was about to raise her foot to stomp on it when she felt one of her hairpins being yanked out from the back of her head. Lilith’s fine, fair hair tumbled down just before a gust of wind blew it up into her face to obscure her vision.
Taming her tendrils, she glared around for Tau, who had used her finely crafted crystal hairpin to spear the white crawler through its abdomen and into her sandal. It flailed a moment before giving into its death throes. Tau waved his hand vigorously. When he stopped, Lilith saw that his hand was swelling fast. She noticed Tau’s face had changed to a color closer to her lighter skin tone. The hue didn’t suit him. It made him sickly looking, drained of life. He stumbled, almost bringing her down, but she held on firm.
“Quick, take me to the Temple Beautiful. Find Istulo. She is a healer, especially in the poisons.”
“What are you talking about, Tau? What poison? Only snakes have poison.”
Sweat rolled off Tau’s temples. His face had now gone gray, and he was having trouble breathing. “The…the serqet, its tail is full of poison. Quick…take me to the…”
Lilith didn’t let Tau finish talking. She propped herself under his arm and swiftly dragged him to the building with the tall marble columns and large palm trees planted in the front—the building Tau had called the Temple Beautiful. Cutting across the market place, Lilith huffed and puffed until she reached the solid gold doorway. It was etched in symbols foreign to her. She hoped this Istulo, or whatever name Tau had muttered, was inside. She banged on the door, once, twice, three times before someone answered. A boy—correction—a man with sea green eyes, golden hair, high cheekbones, and skin like hers answered the door. He was dressed like an
Lilith blinked. “People from Atcha? I’m from Atlantis.”
“Atlantis. Atcha. It makes no difference,” he said, shrugging. “At least those of your people who arrived here long before the great flood treat us with respect. At least they attempt to understand and adapt. You recent arrivals seem above us, act better than us.”
“We do not!” Lilith stamped her foot. Her woven palm leaf sandal decorated with pearls flew off her foot and landed beside a pile of broken pottery.
In a huff, Lilith limped to retrieve her sandal. She kicked at the pieces of glazed pots and shards of ceramic goblets, fishing around the debris with her sandaled foot. A sudden movement caught her eye. It looked like an insect—a white crawler with eight legs, two front pinching claws, and an odd-shaped tail that curled over its back. Lilith squinted. It was almost the size of her hand and seemed to possess a sharp point on the end of its tail. She was about to kick it when she felt a warm body knock her to the ground. The boy was on top of her, his breathing labored, his skin sticky, yet sweet smelling.
“Are you mad, Atcha-girl?”
“I was about to ask you that,” Lilith conjured up an appropriate response, “bug-boy!”
He wiped his brow. “My name is Tau, not bug-boy!”
“Humph! Well, my name is Lilith, not Atcha-girl!”
“Do you know what you were about to kick?” He pointed in the direction of the clay debris.
Still a little dazed, she shrugged. “I’m sure you’re about to enlighten me.”
Tau grunted. “Maybe I shouldn’t. You Atchas think you’re so smart.”
“I’m smart enough to know how to rid myself of a pest like you!” Lilith seethed.
Lilith roughly pushed Tau off her, then stood. Her robe was riddled with dust. She patted herself down while walking toward her orphaned sandal. She noticed that the dumb white crawler with the curled tail had claimed her sandal and was lying on top of it trying to sun itself. Lilith rolled her fingers into the palm of her hands, her long nails beginning to cut into her skin. She was about to raise her foot to stomp on it when she felt one of her hairpins being yanked out from the back of her head. Lilith’s fine, fair hair tumbled down just before a gust of wind blew it up into her face to obscure her vision.
Taming her tendrils, she glared around for Tau, who had used her finely crafted crystal hairpin to spear the white crawler through its abdomen and into her sandal. It flailed a moment before giving into its death throes. Tau waved his hand vigorously. When he stopped, Lilith saw that his hand was swelling fast. She noticed Tau’s face had changed to a color closer to her lighter skin tone. The hue didn’t suit him. It made him sickly looking, drained of life. He stumbled, almost bringing her down, but she held on firm.
“Quick, take me to the Temple Beautiful. Find Istulo. She is a healer, especially in the poisons.”
“What are you talking about, Tau? What poison? Only snakes have poison.”
Sweat rolled off Tau’s temples. His face had now gone gray, and he was having trouble breathing. “The…the serqet, its tail is full of poison. Quick…take me to the…”
Lilith didn’t let Tau finish talking. She propped herself under his arm and swiftly dragged him to the building with the tall marble columns and large palm trees planted in the front—the building Tau had called the Temple Beautiful. Cutting across the market place, Lilith huffed and puffed until she reached the solid gold doorway. It was etched in symbols foreign to her. She hoped this Istulo, or whatever name Tau had muttered, was inside. She banged on the door, once, twice, three times before someone answered. A boy—correction—a man with sea green eyes, golden hair, high cheekbones, and skin like hers answered the door. He was dressed like an