The Sword of the Wormling by Jerry B. Jenkins & Chris Fabry

Author:Jerry B. Jenkins & Chris Fabry
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Tags: JUVENILE FICTION / Religious / Christian
ISBN: 9781414365190
Publisher: Tyndale House Publishers, Inc.
Published: 2007-09-30T21:00:00+00:00

A sensitive being, Watcher knew there were scarier things than just invisibles. At least she could tell when one of those was coming. With the humans, she could never tell when one would anger or betray her. She’d had her doubts about the Wormling at first, thinking he was just out for himself. The death of her trusted friend Bardig had been no small thing. But gradually she had come to trust the Wormling and believe he truly wanted to help his own world and hers achieve wholeness, as the book said.

But as soon as the Wormling had begun his training, Watcher sensed a change. Owen was becoming more aware of himself, more sure, more capable. He learned to swim. When she saw him with his sword, her stomach turned. She was losing him to a world of battle and crusades that could take him in any direction.

It was during these lonely times that Watcher sought solace in her hammock at the end of the island. Mordecai seemed so wrapped up in the initiation training that it seemed he, too, wanted her to fade into the background, seen but not heard.

And so she did fade, for a time, becoming a mere spectator actually taking delight in some of the exercises. One of her favorites had been at the hissing stones near the bridge that had been torn apart. In a shallow pool at the end of a lagoon lay a mist-enshrouded spot where water bubbled with heat from under the earth. Watcher did not believe this water could really be hot when the ocean was so cool, but one leg into the pond convinced her.

The Wormling’s task had been to make it from one side of the pond to the other without falling in. Mordecai instructed the Wormling to study the water and traverse it barefooted when ready. The Wormling took his time—too careful for Watcher’s taste—planning each step.

Watcher became so frustrated with the Wormling that she stepped in front of him and bounced over the rocks with ease, sure-footed and confident. Mordecai had laughed, but the Wormling had not. Especially when he nearly fell.

Enamored with Mordecai’s attention, Watcher made a return trip, but at the next-to-last rock, something hot shot up her back and she screamed, falling.

Mordecai howled, and Watcher did not appreciate the laughter at her expense. The Wormling tried to help her up, but she would have nothing to do with him. She watched from a distance as he went back and forth over the rocks, even anticipating the gusts of steam.

“Good,” Mordecai had said. “Excellent. Now we will try it again, only this time blindfolded.”

To Watcher’s surprise, the Wormling almost made the trip successfully. Almost. Near the edge, the steam zapped him from behind and he fell into the hot water. She had laughed hysterically, but that seemed to make him all the more determined.

Now, as she lay in the hammock watching the stars begin to appear, her stomach growled at the thought of the fish and skolers and brawn.

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