The Thief and the Skull

~Three - Talking Cricket~

Amber groaned as an intense wave of pain washed over her. Every muscle screamed, skin throbbed, and her head threatened to split in two. Evening sunlight blinded her as she pried her eyelids open. The world swam into focus, revealing a jarring, disorienting scene. It was day. The simple statement echoed in her throbbing head with the weight of a thunderclap. How long had she been out? The last thing she remembered was… darkness… sirens… and more darkness.

There, sprawled beside her, lay Lucile. The metal power machine was a chrome and steel extension of herself; seeing her prone, scratched and dented, sent another jolt of pain through Amber, this time emotionally. Amber herself was no better. Jagged cuts crisscrossed her arms and legs, and sticky blood matted her hair. Her father’s jacket had never been so torn. It was beyond the patching she could offer.

But it wasn’t the sight of Lucile or her own injuries that stunned her. It was the boy. He couldn’t have been more than ten, and he was holding something that made her chest lurch. The Amerist Crown. He cradled it in his small hands, oblivious to its significance, to the money it represented.

“…and then the magpie, it swooped right down and tried to snatch my hat! Can you believe it? I’ve never seen such a bold bird. And then I saw this girl, asleep on the ground, like she fell right out of the sky! She’s dressed funny, isn’t she? Almost… almost…” He trailed off, tilting his head and scrutinizing Amber with wide, curious eyes. “She looks like a… a warrior in strange clothes! And what is that thing on her head?”

The boy kept chattering, a relentless stream of observations about the crown, the ‘sleeping girl’ and the mundane realities of his day.

Amber struggled to focus, the boys’ incessant chatter grating against her pounding headache. With a surge of effort, she removed her helmet and turned her head. His movement earned a sharp gasp from a teenage girl who appeared to be sculpted from the shadows beneath a nearby tree. The girl stood frozen. Her face etched with worry. Long, brown hair, pulled back into a neat braid, emphasised the delicate arch of her eyebrows and the intensity of her gaze.

“Are you alright?” she asked, her voice soft and hesitant. “We found you here, near the Whispering Woods.”

“No one usually goes here,” the boy added. “You’re lucky we found you…”

“Who… who are you?” Amber croaked, her throat raw.

“I’m Goose,” the girl replied, offering a gentle smile.

The boy, still brandishing the crown, piped up, “And I’m Cricket! Well, that’s what everyone calls me. My real name is Cedric, but that doesn’t matter. Cricket is better. They call me that because I talk too much. See? I’m doing it right now!”

Goose, with surprising strength, helped Amber to sit, propping her against the trunk of a gnarled tree. The world spun for a moment, then settled into a queasy stillness.

“Thank you,” Amber managed, her eyes still trying to make sense of the scene.

The children were dressed in clothes that looked out of date, almost medieval in their design, brown, worn and made from some kind of cotton or linen. Where was she? And why were these kids acting like finding an injured woman beside a crashed motorbike wasn’t an everyday occurrence?

“Why are you dressed so weird?” Goose asked, her brow furrowed in genuine curiosity. “You look like you’re ready to fight in the arena, but with… shiny fabrics.”

I’m dressed weird? Amber stared at them, her confusion mounting. Arena? Shiny fabrics? She caressed the leather jacket, picturing her father beside her in the strange place. This was all wrong. Terribly wrong. She had been escaping the police, with the Amerist Crown, and headed for a fortune. And now, she was surrounded by woods and two children who seemed to have stepped out of a fantasy book.

Her head ached. The world swam in and out of focus.

Goose knelt beside her, a concerned furrow in her brow. She probed Amber’s arm, making her gasp at the sudden pain.

“Sorry,” she said, her voice surprisingly calm. “I was just seeing how bad your injuries are. Does it hurt?”

“Mostly my head,” Amber mumbled, her eyes fixed on the crown in the boy’s hands. “And could I, uh, have that back?”

The boy, who hadn’t stopped talking the entire time, blinked at her. “This? Why?” He held out the Amerist crown, its intricate details glinting in the strange light.

Amber tried to formulate a plausible lie. There was no way she was going to mention the break in and police chase. They wouldn’t have understood, anyway. “I… I found it. Back where I landed, and I thought I would find the owner. And it looks fragile, so I think I should keep it close.”

Cricket, bless his naïve heart, accepted her flimsy explanation and handed it over. Amber clutched the crown, her heart pounding. She hadn’t planned on this. Escape, riches, freedom—those were the goals. Finding herself in some bizarre world wasn’t exactly on her itinerary.

“Where did you come from?” Goose asked, her eyes searching Amber’s face. “You’re not from here… the Fire domain, maybe? Are you a friend of Damil Horus, the Lord of Fire?”

Lord of Fire? Fire domain? Amber hesitated. She didn’t know who or what any of that was. “No, I’ve never heard of Daniel Horcrux.”

“It’s Damil Horus,” Cricket corrected. “He’s the lord—”

Goose cut him off, waving a hand. “She doesn’t need to hear about Damil right now.” She turned back to Amber again. “If you’re not from there, then where? How did you get here?”

How could Amber even begin to explain how she got here? The physics-defying portal, the heist gone wrong, the desperate need for money… It was all too much, too unbelievable.

“It’s… complicated,” she finally said, avoiding eye contact. “Is there… is there an adult I can talk to?”

Cricket piped up, his earlier chatter resuming. “You’ll need to talk to Ordin, the Lord of Earth. We’re in his domain, you see. And he makes all the decisions.”

“The Earth Lord?” Amber asked, confused. First there was a Fire Lord and now and Earth Lord? What was that even supposed to mean?

Goose tried to explain. “Lord Ordin Blackseed. He’s the… ruler, I guess. Of this entire area.”

Cricket chimed in, his tone shifting to something more serious for a moment. “He’s very serious. And always very firm. He doesn’t smile much.”

Amber clutched the Amerist Crown tighter. An unemotional, firm ruler? This was definitely not the plan. She had stolen the crown to sell it, to solve her own problems back home. Now, she was stranded in a strange world, at the mercy of a mysterious Earth Lord, and surrounded by two oddly endearing children. Her original plan seemed laughably distant, bordering on impossible. But sitting around feeling sorry for herself was not her way.

With a groan, Amber pushing herself up from the damp earth. Her trusty Lucile remained sprawled beside her, a victim.

“Great,” she muttered, brushing dirt and leaves off her leather jacket. Each open wound throbbed, but it was nothing compared to the pain of her past injuries. “Just great.”

“I don’t think it’s great.” Cricket said as his eyes darted from me to Lucile. “Not at all… You’re all beat up, both of you.”

Amber rolled her eyes. It appeared sarcasm was lost in the place.

Goose chirped, eyeing Lucile with caution. “That’s an enormous beast! Does it bite? Can it sting? What do you call it?”

Amber looked from Lucile to the teenager beside and smile. “It’s not a beast, it’s a motorbike.” She moved to caress the dented metal, wincing as she tried to assess the damage. “And it doesn’t bite. I call her Lucile.”

“A motorbike!” Cricket exclaimed. “That’s a funny name! But Lucile is nice. I’m surprised Goose didn’t know what it was. She doesn’t talk much, but she knows a lot about… well, everything really, but especially trees! Do you know what leaves those are? They’re…” He launched into a rapid-fire explanation of the local flora, pointing and gesturing with boundless energy.

Goose, meanwhile, cautiously approached Lucile. She ran a tentative hand along the chrome headlight, her brow furrowed in concentration. Amber watched, amused. Goose had seen nothing like it before. None of them had.

“Can you get it up?” Cricket finally paused for breath. “Looks heavy. Goose is strong, she can help! She helps Mama move the big rocks all the time!”

Amber smiled. “I could use the help, thanks.”

Working together, and with Goose’s surprising strength, they righted Lucile.

“Careful girl,” Amber soothed as she tried the ignition. “Come on…” The engine sputtered and coughed, but refused to start. “Darn it!”

“Arh!” Cricket yelled, jumping backwards. “Is she’s alive! What was that? Is it a metal horse?”

“Well, apparently it’s not working.” Amber explained, and Cricket’s excitement settled. “But I need somewhere to go so I can fix it.”

“We can help! Can’t we, Goose?” before Goose even opened her mouth, Cricket continued. “Ordin can help! We’ll go see him.”

“I guess I need to see Ordin,” Amber replied, glancing around. “The Lord of Earth. Maybe he can help me.”

“Lord Ordin!” Cricket’s eyes widened. “He’s very wise! He lives in a big house, all made of stone and decorated with flowers! We can take you! We know the way through the trees. It’s tricky, but we know all the paths!”

Amber faced Goose. “I guess that’s what we need to do.”

Goose nodded and offered Amber a slight smile. “We’ll show you the way. If we leave now, we should get to the mansion by sunset. Do you think you can walk?”

Amber nodded, a stiff gesture that masked the turmoil raging within her. Had she slept through an entire day? It seemed impossible. The memory of her escape was too vivid to be separated by such a significant span of time. Yet, the alternative was even more unsettling. A time-jump. The thought sent a shiver down her spine. The idea that the fabric of time had warped as she crossed the threshold between worlds was terrifying.

“Let’s go!” Cricket chirped, already hurrying ahead, eager to begin their journey.

Pushing her thoughts aside, Amber hid the Amerist Crown under her jacket, ensuring it remained protected. With a gentle push, she urged Lucile towards the path Cricket was eagerly gesturing to. She found herself escorted through a winding forest path, a seemingly endless corridor of trees that defied all sense of direction. The physical aches and pains from her ordeal were surprisingly minimal, but a persistent, dull throb pulsed behind her eyes.

Cricket regaled her with stories of mischievous sprites, hidden toadstools, and the best berry bushes in the woods. Goose, despite her quiet demeanour, guided Amber around the most treacherous roots and over the slickest stones.

As the sun began its descent, the trees opened into a clearing, revealing a breathtaking sight. Before her stretched the beauty of the Earth Lord’s mansion, a spectacle that stole her breath and tugged at something deep within her soul. Its very presence seemed to breathe with the life of the land, humming with a vibrant energy that resonated through the earth beneath her feet. No one but a lord or king would live in such a magnificent place.

“Wow,” Amber breathed, momentarily forgetting her troubles.

“This is it! Lord Ordin’s house!” Cricket chirped. “He likes flowers a lot. And smooth stones! And stories! Mama says he loves stories. Do you have an interesting story for him? You should tell him about Lucile! He’ll love that!”

Goose, still captivated by Lucile, ran a hand over the seat. She looked at Amber, a silent curiosity in her eyes. “I think he will too…”

Amber nodded, a small uncertain smile playing on her lips. Maybe, just maybe, with the help of a talking Cricket, a silent Goose, she could face whatever awaited her within Ordin’s domain. The stakes were high, the situation absurd, but Amber had never been one to back down from a challenge, no matter how bizarre. She was a thief, after all.

With a skipped breath, Amber continued towards the mansion.