First Light (8 page)

Looking appreciatively at the chickens strutting about, I finished the last of the scrambled egg concoction the gypsies had shared with me. Rising from the log where I’d been sitting, I turned away from the camp, intending to wash my plate in the trickle of the near-dry creek I’d seen earlier during the few minutes’ privacy the gypsies had allowed me.

Gemine, my gypsy companion, appeared at my side. “I’ll take that,” he said, removing the plate from my hand before I could protest. An older woman whisked it away from him, and Gemine held his arm out to me in a gallant gesture.

“Your ride awaits, milady.” His head inclined toward a mare standing a few paces away.

“Thank you, but I am quite capable of walking,” I said unconvincingly as my legs wobbled and threatened to buckle beneath me. Wobbly or not, I had no intention of doing anything other than walking along the road—
alone—
today.

Earlier, as I’d eaten breakfast, I’d told Gemine and his mother how our carriage was overtaken by thieves while I was traveling to visit my sister in Tallinyne. How I’d escaped by running into the woods and hiding, and when I finally dared come out— well after dark— the carriage had been gone. Not entirely the truth, but I wasn’t about to tell them of Merry Anne and her bracelet or the fact that both my parents were dead and I a mostly unwanted orphan.

The gypsies had been nice enough, but better they think there were people at both ends of my journey watching out for me.

I’d been troubled to discover Gemine’s mother studying my hands as I shared this tale, and when her finger reached out, tracing one of my veins, I wondered if I’d convinced her at all. A good liar I’d never been, and I’d heard tales of the gypsy art of palm reading. Remembering Papa’s words about magic being all around us, I wondered if Gemine’s mother had any, including an ability to see the truth in one’s hand.

“You won’t get very far walking.” Gemine dropped his arm as quickly as he’d raised it and left me standing there while he mounted his horse.

I breathed an inward sigh of relief. Now they would leave. For the past several minutes, though I’d tried to stay out of the way and blend into the surrounding forest, I’d felt I was the center of attention. Even now three young children approached me, curiously touching the sweater and my tangled hair.

The women stood, clustered together, sending furtive glances my way and discussing something among themselves. The men readied the animals and wagons to leave, but they, too, weren’t shy about looking me over. Considering I was used to being ignored, the experience left me completely unnerved.

“Thank you for breakfast,” I called, taking an unsteady step toward the road. I felt several pairs of eyes on me as I sought in vain to make my legs cooperate. Holding my head high, I continued, placing one trembling foot in front of the other. I hadn’t noticed this problem upon arising and wondered why my legs should choose now, when all were watching, to exhibit whatever injury I’d caused them by running so long the previous night. I’d just reached the edge of camp when my knees buckled and I tumbled to the ground.

Gemine was there in an instant. He leaned down from his horse, hand held out to me once more, as it had been in the early morning.

I felt my face burning with embarrassment, and I was furious with myself— with my usually reliable legs— for failing me so miserably.

“We’re going in the same direction, you know,” he said.

I refused to look at him. “Thank you, but I prefer to travel alone.” Gritting my teeth, I rose with as much grace as possible, grasping a nearby sapling for support when again my legs began to tremble.

“Why are you so stubborn?” he asked. “We don’t—”

“Bite,” I finished crossly. “Yes. I know.” Lifting my face, I looked up at him, proud and sure on his fine pony. All around us the other gypsies sat on their horses and wagon seats— ready, save for me, to move on.

Gemine smiled, and I was tempted to accept his offer. Still, I hesitated. I’d already broken the rules about never talking to strangers and never accepting food from them. And no harm had come to me thus far. Why should traveling with them— especially in the direction I wished to go— be any different? Yet…

Gemine’s horse snorted and stamped. The gypsy mother who’d fed me breakfast called something to Gemine in a language I could not understand.

“Please,” he said. “It’s better if you come with us.”

Feeling as if I really had no other choice— my legs apparently being in no condition to walk— I reached up to him, groaning as he half pulled me and I half climbed atop his horse.

“That’s better,” he said, when I’d smoothed my dusty skirts and settled into sidesaddle position in front of him. His breath tickled my ear, and his arms came around me as he clucked to the horse and we set off along the road. We’d gone but a few steps when he reined the animal to a halt.

“What’s wrong?”

“Nothing. But you don’t look like you belong with us. And if we should meet up with those same thieves… well, you’d want to blend in.” He bent over, plucking a flower from a wild Magnolia tree. Brushing back my long hair, he tucked the stem behind my ear. “Very pretty.” His gaze held mine.

I tried but couldn’t hide the slow smile that formed on my lips. Though I was sure he’d meant the flower, it was still the first time I’d ever heard those words spoken in relation to anything on or about me.
Hair the color of straw, eyes the color of mud. A pity Mama’s last child came so ugly.
How oft I’d heard such sentiments from my older sisters. Yet now I felt myself blushing beneath Gemine’s compliments. His grin widened.

A young woman about my age rode up to us. She removed a colorful shawl from her shoulders and tossed it to Gemine. He wrapped it around me, covering the pastel sweater.

“That takes care of everything but your light hair. If we do meet up with someone, use the shawl to cover your head. And keep your face lowered. Those lovely hazel eyes would give you away as well.”

Transfixed by his gentle touch, I merely nodded my agreement. We set off again.

I tried to tell myself it was all right— to be sitting so close to him, to be traveling with people I did not know— but beneath the bodice of my dress the pearls had begun to warm my skin, and inklings of guilt and doubt crept into my heart. I pulled the shawl tighter and did my best to ignore the uncomfortable heat and the uneasiness I felt.

“Where in Tallinyne does your sister live?” Gemine asked as we fell in line with the caravan.

“I don’t know exactly. I’ve never been there before. Is it very large?”

“Very.” His eyes looked down into mine. “How did your parents expect you to find your sister without directions?”

“I had an escort,” I reminded him. “She knew where to go.”

“Well, I hope she is all right,” Gemine said.

“Me, too.” I thought again of Merry Anne, her swift knitting needles, and the twinkle in her eyes. I remembered her confidence in me and wondered if she would disapprove of my traveling with gypsies.

“Do you think we’ll reach the township today?” I found myself almost more eager to reunite with Merry Anne than I was to find my sister.

“Possibly,” Gemine said. “Though we don’t travel too far in one day. Business, you know.”

I didn’t know but badly wanted to ask. After a few moments my lack of manners came through as usual so I blurted. “What business? What is it your family does?”

“All sorts of things. My uncles put on a show with the horses. My sister and cousins dance. My mother tells fortunes.”

Beneath the shawl, my hand— the one his mother had touched— clenched into a fist. I wondered if she
really
told fortunes, or if it was just an act to make money.

Magic is all around you
. In the short while since I’d left home I’d seen my Father was right. But what, if anything, had Gemine’s mother read in the lines on my hands?

“What do
you
do?” I asked, realizing he’d yet to tell me anything about himself.

“I have a fun job,” Gemine said. “I’m a charmer.”

Instead of asking what he meant, I followed his gaze to two large wicker baskets tied onto the back of the wagon in front of us. “Snakes?” I gasped.

He smiled. “Perhaps later I can show you.”

I must have looked appalled, because he laughed out loud as he had when first meeting me.

“I generally like most creatures.” I thought of the boar I’d met the previous night. “But snakes scare me,” I admitted.

“As well they should,” he said in a more serious tone as he looked down at me.

His face seemed somber, and I sensed his light-hearted mood had changed in an instant. I wasn’t sure why but suddenly felt too tired to care whether or not what I’d said had offended or bothered him in some way.

“You need to rest,” Gemine observed as I stifled yet another yawn.

“I was up quite late,” I reminded him.

“Go to sleep, then,” he encouraged, his hand gently pressing my head to his chest. “I won’t let you fall.”

“I couldn’t,” I said stiffly, sitting up again. My cheek burned where he had touched it, and I had no doubt I was blushing.

“Suit yourself.” He shrugged and stared ahead down the long, straight road.

I felt the tiniest bit disappointed he hadn’t tried harder to persuade me. His hand against my face had felt rather nice. That thought was followed by instant shame as I silently reprimanded myself for not feeling more uncomfortable or awkward, sitting in such close proximity, with his arm brushing against my back and the sides of our legs touching. My mother, had she seen, would have been appalled at such behavior. But instead of seeming scandalous, to me it simply felt… nice. Gemine’s head rose above mine so that he could have rested his chin on my hair if he wanted. A new, thrilling sensation fluttered inside me, nearly taking my mind off the pearls warming my skin.

Trying to check the unexpected emotion, I told myself to stop such wanton nonsense. I was nothing to him; he was nothing to me. I should never have one of the affairs of the heart I’d heard my sisters speak of, so it was best not to let my imagination get carried away. Their recent letters served as a painful reminder of all I lacked.

…
Adrielle is dull-witted and clumsy to boot… such a simple-minded thing… so scrawny and stubborn…

Resolutely, I turned my head toward the road and watched as we crept along. I focused on staying awake, alert, and attentive so I’d know the way into Tallinyne, lest I should have cause to leave it.

The minutes ticked by slowly. I allowed my eyes the briefest rest, and I felt my head loll.

Gemine chuckled then touched his hand to my face again, pressing my cheek against his solid chest. “Stubborn girl,” he muttered, though coming from him it almost sounded like an endearment. He smoothed the hair from my face and rested his chin on top of my head as I’d imagined he might do.

This time I did not protest.

The sun had already begun its descent in the western sky when next I awoke. Again it took me a minute to remember where I was and why. And then alarm quickly set in. I craned my neck, looking beneath us, out in front, and behind for any sign of the road. The closest thing was the matted grass of a forest trail the gypsies appeared to be blazing themselves.

“Wait,” I exclaimed, sitting up straight and meeting Gemine’s gaze. “Stop. We’ve left the road.”

“A shortcut is all,” he assured me in his easy tone.

I was not comforted. “No. I must stay with the road. Let me go— please.” I leaned forward as if to jump from the horse. He blocked my way with his arm and called out something using words I did not recognize. The entire caravan ground to a halt.

Again I tried to dismount. This time Gemine did not restrain me. I slid to the ground, barely maintaining my balance on legs that still felt weak and shaky.

“Thank you,” I said, then turned to go, running headlong into his mother.

“Adrielle wishes to take her leave of us now,” he stated.

“Of course.” His mother swept her hand to the side. “You are free to go as soon as you’ve given payment for our services.”

“Payment?” I repeated, a feeling of dread creeping into my heart.

“We fed you and took you this far, did we not?” she asked.

“Yes, but...”

“Nothing is free,” Gemine said.

I felt my face burn, but this time in anger. I turned to look at him. “You failed to mention that this morning.”

He shrugged. “You did not ask.”

Ignoring him and the hurt his words had caused, I returned my attention to his mother, gesturing to the near rags that comprised my dress. “I have nothing but these clothes.” Not entirely true, though she did not know that.

But she did. Her gaze drifted to the bodice of my gown. “What you have, you must give to us freely, or its magic is useless. The thieves who took it from you yesterday did not realize this.”

I felt my mouth open in astonishment. I could tell she saw the pearls as clear as if they rested on the outside of my dress. And somehow, she knew the events of yesterday, though I had not told her of them in detail. I saw no point in further denying the bracelet’s existence and instead sought to tell the entire truth.