The Lost Knight (Volume III) The Lost World

Chapter 22: Dinosaurs in the Garden

Upon returning to my room, I find the promised clothing piled high on my bed. My heart skips a few beats when I spot the neat pile of jeans.

"I can't believe I get to wear these," I say to the crazy expensive designer jeans I'm holding. I've never been much into clothes, but I also could never afford anything nice. These jeans are better than anything the popular girls wore at school. "Please let me keep you."

I try on several different outfits and settle on jeans and a T-shirt; a very expensive T-shirt, like the kind actresses wear. I study myself in the mirror. My butt looks amazing. Overwhelming guilt punches me in the gut and deflates me like an old balloon.

I'm a prisoner, not a guest. I forgot that for a second. I was happy. Actually happy, while my friends think I'm dead. I'm about to remove the offending clothes when there's a knock at the door followed by Mapta peeping her head in.

When she spies me by the mirror, she steps in and smiles. I don't trust that smile. Every person I meet here, from the guards to the ghosts, has that same smile. It's the type of awkward smile some stranger gives you when they don't speak your language but want you to like them. It makes me angry.

"Hello," she says slowly, with a thick accent, then motions for me to follow her.

I do because my pity party made me forget about changing. I've lost the first battle and sold my soul for a pair of pretty jeans.

The dining room table sits sixteen, but there are only two places set at the far end. Ziras is seated at the head of the table, but he stands when I walk in. Mapta leaves me in the doorway, and I cautiously make my way to him.

"Good evening," he says with a grin.

I don't trust this grin either; not because it's awkward, but because it's genuine and warm. I refuse to make eye contact while he holds my chair for me. Sitting here, eating with my enemy, is disloyal to my friends.

"I never welcomed you to Oletto," he says once he takes a seat. He puts his warm palm on top of mine. The contact makes my head snap up, and my startled eyes meet his. "Welcome."

I jerk my hand away. I don't like him looking at me, and I certainly don't want to touch him. Fortunately, we're distracted when a server delivers our drinks. All thought leaves my consciousness as I stare at the tall glass filled with dark liquid, stuffed with square ice cubes and a clear plastic straw. Pure anticipation makes my fingers shake as I gaze at the real soda, from a real glass, which I can drink through a real straw.

He smiles again, enjoying my delight. Battle number two is lost. I'm happy again. Maybe I was born to be a prisoner. The stupidest things so easily sway me. I put the soda down and try to go back to being solemn.

I don't try for long because I can smell the empanadas as soon as they reach the door. I almost cry when they're placed in front of me. This is my favorite snack of all time. My mind races back to the days when I'd stop by the bodega on the way home from school and pick up a few of the warm, soft pastries.

I grab one and break it open to help it cool quicker. The smell of the spicy beef is so familiar and comforting—finally, a piece of home. I can't wait any longer and take a bite. It's so hot I can barely taste it, but it's delicious. Beef and cheese, my favorite. I'm lost in memories for as long as the empanadas last. Ever since I've been at Oletto I've been served my favorite foods.

"Are we having pork lo mein for dinner?" I ask.

"No," he answers, pleased with himself. "We are having pork chow mein."

"With crispy fried thick noodles?"

"Indeed. Who likes a thin, soggy noodle?"

I can't agree more. An alarm goes off in my head. I need to end this because I've been enjoying myself. Worse, I'm beginning to like my dinner companion. He wields his charm like a weapon, and I don't know how to fight against it. I picture the faeries in the trees, but it's fading. I can't imagine the charming man next to me doing that. I wish I could run away because I know I'm falling under his spell, and I don't know how to stop it.