Traveller (13 page)

“That sounds very Egyptian.”

Leah gave me a little smile. “Gypsy comes from the word ‘Egyptian.’ We’ve been around a long time. Some people say we bear the mark of Cain, doomed to wander the earth endlessly. Those people are just bigots who hate us and want to think we’re inherently evil. Not all who wander are lost.”

The horses started moving, and we joined the sad parade of gypsies that followed. We exited the compound through the metal doors, large enough to accommodate the hearse, and wound our way through the back alleys of York. The streets were completely empty and quiet, like the whole city mourned, too. We walked in silence until we came to a small cemetery. Pretty typical to others I’d seen, except empty bottles of whiskey and glasses stood at each grave, as well as small trinkets that looked like good luck charms. There was no one else around.

“Where is everyone?” I whispered to Leah.

“We placed a charm to make Dwellers stay away. It’s an old gypsy trick. It’ll disappear as soon as we’re done.”

“Why doesn’t it affect me?”

Leah shrugged. “I don’t know, maybe because you’re here with us.”

Sampson stood next to Mary and held her as the coffin was lowered into the ground. A man began playing the bagpipes. The sad, soulful sound echoed across the barren cemetery. After the last note died away, Mary took the first handful of dirt and threw it on her son’s coffin. She wept, clinging to Sampson’s jacket. Tears rolled down Leah’s cheeks, and I swallowed hard, blinking my own away. Another round of whiskey was poured and Sampson raised his glass.

“Gone, but not forgotten,” he said.

We raised our glasses and repeated his words. “Gone, but not forgotten.”

Some of the men pulled out instruments and began to play. There was a fiddle, a flute, and oboe, and a rather banged up trumpet. Several people had tambourines. They gathered together and played a lively tune that reminded me of a New Orleans’ funeral parade. As they played, we headed slowly back to the compound, our hearts feeling a little bit lighter. Some of the gypsies began to dance, and others started to sing.

“It’s over now. We can stop the crying and celebrate his life.” Leah blew out a sigh, and pulled me out of the parade to wait for Michael and Ryan. They came last, after Mary and Sampson, making sure everyone was safe and accounted for.

Michael grabbed my hand, and we walked back to the compound together. He looked worn out.

“Are you all right?” I asked.

“This was a hard one, but now you’ll see what a real gypsy party is like.”

“Geez Louise. I’m half-drunk already.”

Michael bit his lip and gave me a sexy little grin. “Are you going to start talking all southern again?”

“I sure might. We consumed quite a bit of whiskey today.”

He snorted. “As someone from Kentucky might say, honey, you ain’t seen nothin’ yet.”

I laughed, squeezing his hand as I studied the people in the procession. “I’ve heard stories about gypsies my whole life, but those gypsies weren’t like all of you. Are you the same or different?”

“Both.” He pulled me closer so we could talk quietly. “Before the Moktar, people could marry Dwellers and start new compounds. We were vagabonds, and naturally we spread out and split apart at times. The gypsies you know about are sort of our very distant cousins. They mixed with Dwellers so much that only a bit of real Traveller blood remains. Unfortunately, it’s just enough to make them excellent con artist, liars, and thieves, which gets all of us in trouble.”

As we entered the compound, I looked around, noticing the gardens and old trees around the caravans. “But I think you’ve been here a long time. That doesn’t really fit the vagabond description.”

“We’re forced to live here by the alliance. They like to keep tabs on us because we’re an unpredictable element. But wandering is in our blood. It makes us crazy to be tied down like this.”

Leah came up to us, laughing and pulling Ryan along with her. “Come, you two. The party has begun.”

The rest of the day flew by in a haze of drinking, dancing, feasting, and singing. The women were extremely good dancers. The men mostly stayed on the sidelines and watched. Michael kept me close by his side. Every once in a while, one of the younger men pulled a girl away from the other dancers. She would resist, dragging her feet, but laughing the whole time.

“What are they doing?” I had to get very close to Michael’s ear so he could hear me.

“That’s called ‘grabbing.’ It’s an old gypsy courting ritual, a way to steal a kiss. It’s completely barbaric, and yet most find it somehow romantic. Too bad it stems from our fear of the Moktar taking our women.”

Bitterness tainted his voice. I stroked his cheek. “Well, you don’t need to bother with that because I’ll kiss you any ole time you want.”

I stood on my tiptoes and gave him a long, sweet kiss. He tasted like whiskey and smelled faintly of smoke from the campfire. I leaned against him with a soft sigh.

Patrick cleared his throat. He stood behind us, dressed in full battle gear. “Time to head out, Mikey.”

The sun began to set as the men readied themselves, even the older ones. They’d drunk a lot of whiskey, and a few weren’t quite steady on their feet.

When Michael nodded and slipped away, I looked at Leah in concern. “Are they seriously going out like this?”

Leah pursed her lips. “They must. The council only gave Michael two weeks to kill the Alpha. Every minute counts, Emerson.”

I shook my head, the panic rising in my chest. “If anything happens to him…”

Leah took my arm and gave me a steady look. “He’ll go whether you want it or not because he must. Don’t make it harder for him. Just put a smile on your face, give him a kiss, and send him off.”

She kept her eyes locked on mine until I calmed down. I knew she was right, but when Michael came back, dressed in all black, I couldn’t hide the worry in my eyes.

He pulled me to a quiet spot under a large oak tree. “Don’t fret. I’m not drunk.”

“You had an awful lot of whiskey today, mister.”

He playfully tugged a strand of my hair. “I’ve been drinking whiskey since before I could walk. I’m fine. Trust me.”

I pulled him close, my hands on his leather jacket. “Be safe.”

He nodded seriously. “I’m always safe.”

“Be careful.”

“I’m always careful.”

I gave him a very stern look. “Be serious.”

He grinned and kissed me so hard my knees almost gave out. “I’m never serious,” he joked, his words a sweet murmur against my lips.

I had to smile back. I couldn’t help it. He’d finally initiated another kiss. I held his face in my hands and kissed him over and over again, wanting him to stay so badly it hurt.

When the others yelled for him, he leaned close and whispered in my ear, “Don’t worry. I’ll kill the monster, and you’ll be able to go home to your Da.”

I had promised not to cry, but couldn’t stop myself. “Just come back, Michael Nightingale. I mean it.”

He put a finger under my chin and tilted it up to peer into my eyes. He gave me one last heartbreakingly tender kiss, and then whispered, “I will. For the first time, there is something I want to come back to.”

Chapter Fourteen

It happened faster than a knife fight in a phone booth.

~Grandma Sugar

Sun Tzu knew a lot about war, but he didn’t know how it felt to be left behind while others fought. I wasn’t accustomed to it myself. The Traveller women, however, had become experts. As soon as the men left, they took their places around the fire to wait. We formed a sad little group. The women still wore their fancy dresses and sequins. They looked like a band of strippers who’d gotten lost in the woods. I sat down on a log next to Leah, and tried to study the women without being obvious.

Tad’s mother, Mary, began to sing, breaking the silence with her mournful melody. The song, a sad, sweet lullaby, sounded hauntingly familiar.

“I’ve heard this before,” I whispered to Leah.

“It’s a Traveller song. You couldn’t have.”

When the song ended, the bottle of whiskey got passed around again. I tried to refuse it, since I’d had more whiskey in one day than I’d had my whole life, but the ladies insisted. Soon I was buzzed, along with everyone else.

“Oy. Dweller.”

One of the girls called to me from the other side of the fire pit. She wore a silver sequin dress about as big as the piece of aluminum foil a decent person would use to wrap a ham sandwich. She had long, black, silky hair and eyes so dark blue they looked nearly purple. A pretty girl, but obviously no one had ever taught her to keep her knees together when wearing a micro-mini dress.

“What do you want, Audrey?” Leah, the only one not toasted at this point, narrowed her eyes at the girl. She sipped water instead of whiskey. Although she didn’t seem aware of it, sometimes her hand would cover her belly protectively. It wouldn’t be long before everyone knew she was expecting.

Audrey scowled. “I have a question for the Dweller. Is it true you fought off a Moktar?”

“Yes, it is.”

Audrey took another swallow of whiskey and then slammed down her glass on a small table next to her seat. “How?”

Audrey’s question hung in the air, and the women all turned and looked at me. Even Nella seemed curious.

“Basic self-defense. I could teach you a few moves, if you’d like.”

An older woman nearby shifted in her seat. “It’s forbidden.”

Audrey rolled her eyes. “It’s forbidden to hunt. We have the right to know how to defend ourselves. Teach us what you know, Dweller.”

A few minutes later, I showed them some basic moves. Nella and her group watched, but refused to join in. Their loss. I taught the others how to stun an attacker, how to get away when grabbed, and where to hit someone to cause the most damage. They kicked off their shoes and copied everything I showed them. Even the older ladies seemed eager to learn. Margaret stood way in the back, but she joined in, too.

After I promised to teach them more later, they decided they wanted to play a new game called “Let’s Dress Emerson.” Audrey and a few of the younger girls pulled me into her caravan and made me try on several dresses, laughing the whole time. They finally settled on a very short and sparkly gold tank dress with a pair of ridiculously high-heeled shoes. They played with my hair and makeup, and when they were satisfied, let me look in a mirror.

I was shocked, mostly because I loved it. The tight dress clung to my curves and made my skin glow. It showed enough cleavage Grandma Sugar would have had the vapors, and it barely covered my underpants, but it was stunning, and I loved the way my hair brushed against my naked back. My makeup looked surprisingly pretty as well. The gold in the dress and in my eye shadow brought out little flecks of gold in my eyes. They wanted to put false eyelashes on me, but I refused. I’d done that in my pageant days and vowed to never to it again. Instead, they added loads and loads of mascara, making my eyes huge in my face. They brushed my cheekbones with something that glittered, added a bit of color to my lips, and stood back to admire their handiwork.

“Nice job, ladies.” I put one hand on my waist and jutted out my hip, a pageant pose.

Audrey’s gaze went from the top of my head to the toes of my feet, and then a slow smile spread across her face. “I can’t wait to see Mikey’s reaction.”

I bit my lip. “Do you think he’ll like it?”

She laughed. “He won’t know what hit him. He’s always so serious and proper. I can’t wait to see him with his tongue hanging out, panting over you.”

Thanks to years on the pageant circuit, I had plenty of experience with heels. These heels were the highest I’d ever put on, but I managed. When I walked back to the fire pit, the other ladies clapped. Nella and her friends looked less than pleased. They started whispering among themselves, and I ignored them. I did a little turn for the others and gave them a sexy pout. Leah laughed.

“Emerson, you look smashing.”

“Thank you.” I blew a kiss to the girls who’d dressed me. They waved and giggled, and Leah and I sat back down by the fire. Because Leah had accepted me, most of the other women had, too.

Margaret slid into the seat next to me and handed me a bottle of whiskey, her expression serious. I accepted it and took a deep swallow, keeping my eyes on her the whole time. Leah got up discreetly to leave us alone.

“I’m sorry,” she said, her voice soft.

I almost choked on the whiskey. “What did you say?”

“None of this is your fault. You didn’t ask for any of this to happen, and you weren’t the cause. I still feel I had to report my dream to the council, but it wasn’t anything personal.”

In the light of the fire, her pale eyes were almost colorless. It took courage for her to speak with me like this.

“Thank you. Now drink.” I handed the whiskey back to her.

She smiled and took a swig. “You aren’t bad for a Dweller, you know.”

“I do my best.”

Margaret gave the bottle back to me. I took another tiny sip, barely able to focus on her face, and she laughed. “But you’re no Traveller, either. Whiskey is mother’s milk to us.”

We sat in silence for a moment. I could tell Margaret had something else she wanted to say to me, and I waited for her to get to it. Finally, she took a deep breath and started. “I liked what you did tonight, teaching us how to defend ourselves. It felt good.”

“It was fun.”

“More than fun.” Margaret’s hands, in her lap, balled into fists. “For the first time, I felt like I might not be completely powerless. That’s a gift, Emerson. Thank you.”

She patted my arm a little awkwardly, and then got up and walked away. As soon as she left, Anselina took the seat she’d just vacated. It made me nervous that the councilwoman wanted to sit next to me. I’d had quite a bit to drink, and wasn’t up for an interrogation at the moment.

“I’m more popular than the last jar of barbeque sauce at a pork roast this evening.”

Anselina smiled. “Don’t worry, child. I just want to talk to you.”

I stared at her. “About what?”

“About many things, but mostly I’m curious. Where are you from, and how did you end up here?”