Keeper of the Realms: Crow's Revenge (Book 1) by Marcus Alexander Page B

K’Changa
    ‘We’ll set up camp here for the night,’ said Jensen.
    After yet another hard day of marching with the Tremen, Charlie was ready for a rest. All the amazing sights she’d seen over the past three days, the strange creatures and the entertaining company, had kept a smile firmly plastered on her face, but her feet were aching.
    The Tremen busied themselves making a fire and preparing food.
    ‘Can I help?’ Charlie asked Jensen, who was clearing a space for sleeping.
    ‘Ya just rest, lass. We’ve set a good pace. I reckon another day and a half will see us in Sylvaris,’ he said, the constant twinkle in his eyes brighter than ever.
    ‘Will I like it?’ asked Charlie.
    ‘Like it? Why, of course ya will! It’s not called the Flower of Deepforest for nothing. But we’ll be there ta look after ya, me little Hippotomi, and it’ll be a pleasure ta show ya around and introduce ya ta the Jade Circle.’
    ‘Promise?’
    ‘Of course, so long as ya promise not ta start stompin’ those feet!’ snorted Jensen.
    ‘Hhmpf!’
    ‘Hey, boys, we got a grumpy lass in our midst!’ shouted Jensen. ‘Wot say we give her a little K’Changa demonstration?’
    Charlie grabbed Jensen by his ear. Pulling him down to her head height, she whispered quite sternly, ‘I’m not grumpy!’
    ‘I know, sweetheart, but dis gives me an excuse ta beat Kelko and some of the boys at K’Changa. It’s been a while and if I don’t stay on top of them, they’ll say I’ve lost me edge!’ whispered Jensen.
    ‘OK, but what’s K’Changa – a board game?’ asked Charlie.
    ‘Ya’ll see!’ he said, and threw her a cheeky wink. As he walked off, Charlie could hear him talking and chuckling to himself. ‘K’Changa a board game? Ha! A board game!’
    Before Charlie could ask what he was talking about, Jensen, Kelko and five of the other Tremen stripped off their shoes and shirts. Walking to the centre of the clearing in just their trousers, they began to stretch and warm up. Stotch, with a blazing torch in his hand, burned a wide circle into the grass.
    ‘Hey, Stotch, what’s K’Changa?’ asked Charlie.
    ‘It’s a sport, blossom. It’s like dis: the boys are gonna fight over a shuttlecock, which we call a Zephyr. The one who can hold on ta it for a slow count of ten wins. Wot makes it difficult is ya can’t actually hold the Zephyr, nor can ya drop it ta the floor. Ya have ta keep possession throughstriking it – knees, feet, hands, chest and head are allowed, but absolutely no holding. Anyone who grabs it gets an instant disqualification. Nor can ya leave the circle with the Zephyr – that’ll get ya disqualified too.’ Noticing that Charlie looked thoroughly confused, he pulled her over to the edge of the circle and they sat down. ‘Here, watch and see.’
    The Tremen who weren’t playing also sat down. They brought out their drums and soon a wild and fiery rhythm was flying around the clearing. Stotch threw extra timber on the fire and when the flames were roaring and the drums beating, the players prepared to start the game.
    ‘All right, then!’ called out Jensen. ‘Cos ya lazy lumps can’t hope ta match me grace and sheer talent, I’ll let whoever first wins the Zephyr keep it for a count of five before I join the game!’
    Stotch, who was sitting next to Charlie, began to whisper commentary. ‘Jensen’s one of the best – trouble is he knows it. The boys will really hope ta take him down a peg or two!’
    ‘A count of five?’ roared Kelko. ‘That’s crazy talk! If ya give me a head start like that, y’know I’m gonna kick yer skinny green backside!’
    ‘Ha! Let’s see, then!’ cried Jensen. ‘Stotch, throw in the Zephyr!’
    Stotch pulled a shuttlecock from his bag. It had been made with startlingly blue feathers and bound with golden thread. With a casual flick of his wrist, he threw it into the centre of the circle.
    The Tremen burst into motion. Spinning and somersaulting, they kicked