The girl shrugged. “I don’t care. I can find another rock. I just want to see you turn this one.”
“As you wish.” Kye waved his hand in a regal gesture. “Place it on the ground right there.”
The girl put her rock on the sand, and I carefully moved it closer to Kye for her.
He bent down, reaching a finger toward the rock. “Ready?”
The kids crouched around the rock, staring at it with rapt attention. Kye slowly brought his finger forward. His fingernail scraped the surface without any effect, then the pad of his finger connected with the rock. With a brief spark of shimmer, the colors disappeared, and the rock turned transparent.
“Oooh,” the kids exhaled together.
Kye quickly moved his hand away before the girl eagerly grabbed her new treasure.
“I’ll get more rocks!” Her cousin jumped up with a mission.
“Leela!” An older boy was running down the beach toward us.
“Oh no. We’re in trouble.” The girl shoved her glass rock back into her pocket.
“Leela, your mother has been looking everywhere for you! She sent me to get you.” The boy who looked to be ten or eleven stopped, noticing us.
He gave me a quick look, then stared at Kye from under a furrowed eyebrow. I didn’t believe he’d recognize Kye since the boy was too young to have seen the king before the curse, and Kye hadn’t been out since. But the look the boy was giving his sovereign was far from friendly.
“It’s the cursed king,” the little girl announced brightly. “He can turn rocks into glass. See?”
She produced her glass rock from her pocket, displaying it on her palm for the older boy to see.
The boy eyed the rock, then glanced at Kye again, more intrigued than suspicious this time.
“Can you turn this too then?” The boy asked, taking out an item from the pocket of his wide, knee-length pants. “I carved it for my mom’s birthday, but it’d look prettier if it was made of glass.”
On the palm of his hand—light blue, just like the color of his long braid—lay a wooden carving of a turtle. The wood was roughly whittled, with the turtle’s legs looking like clawed mini marshmallows. But the time and effort he’d put into it was obvious in the details like the turtle’s beady eyes and skin folds on its neck. He even carved some designs into the shell.
“It’s really beautiful.” I smiled in admiration.
“Let me see.” Kye craned his neck. “Did you really make it all by yourself?”
The boy nodded.
“You have a gift, my boy,” Kye praised, igniting pride in the boy’s expression. “Put it on the ground, then step back. Your mother will love it.”
The boy did as he was told, leaving his carved turtle on the sand by Kye’s feet. The kids huddled close in anticipation of another transformation, and I anxiously gauged the distance between them and their king to make sure it’d be just the turtle that ends up as glass.
Kye touched the turtle’s head, and the entire figurine turned to glass, accompanied by the delighted “oohs” and “aahs” from the children.
“This is the best kind of magic!” The boy reached for his treasure, beaming with excitement, and Kye promptly jerked his hand away.
A woman ran along the beach. Her beautiful face pinched with worry as her gaze scanned the sirens at the water's edge before she spotted the children.
“Orym! You found her. Leela! There you—” The woman stopped in her tracks abruptly, noticing the king.
“Good evening.” I plastered my friendliest smile, but she completely ignored me, darting an alarmed glance between Kye and the kids.
“Leela, come here, baby,” she called softly, not taking her terrified gaze off Kye.
“Mommy, Mommy!” The girl gushed, running to the woman. “The cursed king turned my rock to glass and Orym’s turtle too!”
“Just ‘the king’ would be lovely. No need for the ‘cursed’ adjective,” Kye grumbled under his breath.
