First Light

by Michele Paige Holmes

  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.

  “You are mistaken. What I have belongs not to me but to my escort.”

  “The escort who abandoned you?” Gemine scoffed.

  I sent him a scathing glare. “She did not abandon me. Something must have happened.” But I heard doubt in my voice.

  “It is you who are mistaken,” the gypsy woman said. “The bracelet belongs to you. And in time, you will see the wisdom of giving it to us.” She nodded her head, and two large hands descended on my shoulders. Roughly they turned me around, pushing me toward the back of the caravan and the last wagon.

  I balked when I saw the narrow door and confining space inside, but I was no match for those hands and the huge
man they belonged to. One shove and I stumbled forward, striking my head on the low entry. I pressed my lips together to hold back a cry of pain and crawled up the last step, palms pressed to the rough boards. My nose wrinkled as a musty smell assaulted me. I’d barely climbed in when the door banged shut behind, leaving me in near darkness, save for the light slanting between the three bars on the narrow window. I grasped these as the caravan started with a mighty jolt. Looking out I saw Gemine rein his horse in behind the wagon.

  He grinned, revealing his perfect teeth. “When you are ready, milady, you may ride with me again.”

  “Never,” I hissed and turned away from the window, shrinking into the darkness, where I hoped he could not see me. Why had I trusted him? I felt ill used and suddenly dirty. Pulling my sweater sleeve over my hand I rubbed the spot on my cheek where he had touched me. I thought again of my parents. My mother would have been appalled at my earlier behavior, and that bothered me. But my father would have been disappointed, and that left me feeling keenly ashamed.

  Perhaps this was what he’d meant when he’d warned me never to cast my pearls before swine. Last night’s boar seemed harmless compared to the gypsies with their fine clothing and pretended kindness. Again I berated myself for being taken in by them— by him, I admitted, feeling worse by the minute.

  Gemine was the first boy who’d ever paid me any attention, and I’d enjoyed it— both his conversation and his touch.

  “Foolish— gullible,” I muttered, utterly frustrated with myself. I, of all people, knew about looks being deceiving. Were not several of my siblings quite handsome? And yet the characteristics I knew them best for were idleness and selfishness. “A pretty face is not necessarily the reflection of the soul,” my father had often said.

  But I had forgotten. Only two days away from my home, and I’d forgotten the wisdom he’d worked so hard to impart.

  “No more,” I vowed. My voice lowered to a whisper. “I’m sorry, Papa. I won’t make that mistake again. Please forgive me.” Squeezing my eyes shut, I sat in the dark, suffering the penance my own foolishness had brought.

  “Adrielle does not know her value, nor the value of the bracelet.” Gemine’s voice, carried on a soft, evening breeze, drifted through the lone window of my prison.

  I’d been barely asleep, worn out from what seemed like hours of bumpy travel over the rough forest path. Every muscle ached, and my jaw was sore from being clenched as I’d tried to prevent my teeth from chattering together over each and every knoll. Adding to my misery was my stiff, throbbing backside— a painful reminder of my foolish morning ride.

  A loud crack— from the fire, I presumed— sounded outside, followed by the noises of logs being dropped, boots stomping, and low, indistinguishable voices.

  Despite my discomfort, I eased myself into a sitting position and scooted closer to the window, eager to catch any of the gypsies’ conversation— a mixture of their language and mine.

  A man snorted. “Of course she doesn’t know about the pearls. If she did, she wouldn’t still be here— would she?”

  “But she is, and she knows nothing.” I thought I recognized Gemine’s mother’s voice. But whatever she said next, I missed, as a group of children scampered past my wagon, chasing each other. I waited for them to pass, hoping those at the fire would say more. A few minutes later my patience was rewarded.

  “By this time tomorrow, I imagine she’ll be most willing to part with the bracelet.”

  “What will become of her then?” Gemine asked. “What did you see in her hand?”

  “No one is watching out for her,” his mother said. “Except the evil one.”

  At the moment I couldn’t imagine anyone more evil than Gemine and his family. Though I wondered if they meant the thieves were looking for me again.

  Whoever or whatever they meant, I’d deal with later. The only thing that mattered now was getting away from here— from them.

  “Better she leaves us soon, then,” the man said.

  I couldn’t have agreed more.

  I waited for the conversation to continue but heard only the crackling of the fire interspersed with syllables unfamiliar to me. Thoughts raced through my head. What had Gemine meant when he said I didn’t know the pearls’ value? I retrieved the bracelet from my bodice as he spoke once more.

  “What if they’re right?” he asked. “What if she is capable? Would it not be wise for us to help her?”

  A young woman’s voice I hadn’t heard before replied with sarcasm. “You saw her today. She can’t even walk straight. How is she to be the one—”

  “You caused her legs to fail.” Gemine’s voice rose. I listened as heavy steps crunched across pine needles littering the forest floor.

  “Don’t touch me,” the woman’s voice matched Gemine’s pitch. “Or I’ll cripple you as well.”

  I glanced down at my legs— what little I could see of them in the dark— and a new anger burned within me. I should have known it was a curse or spell of some sort. Until today, never once in my life of hard labor had I been unable to walk or run as I pleased. Not after the most arduous day in the fields with my father and brothers. Not after those few carefree afternoons when I’d wandered miles alone over the rolling hills and countryside. Not when my stomach had ached with hunger and my knees had felt weak with fatigue. I inched closer to the window, desperate to see the face of the woman who had caused me so much difficulty.

  “Shh,” Gemine’s mother scolded. “You’ll wake her.”

  Me? I froze, keeping my head beneath the bars. Seeing out would have to wait until later. For now I must be content to listen.

  “I thought you mixed a sleeping potion with her food,” the younger woman said.

  My heart skipped a beat as I stared toward the far corner of the wagon where I’d dumped the meal they’d brought me. Intuition had warned me not to eat it, and though I was hungry, I now felt grateful I hadn’t. No wonder the gypsies had seemed pleased when I returned the empty plate.

  “I did mix a little something in,” she said. “But I don’t know how long it will last— especially if she truly has the gifts spoken of.”

  “Ah,” Gemine said. “You believe it, too.”

  “I believe she was not the only one affected by your time together today.”

  “What do you mean— nonsense!” he said, a defensive edge to his words.

  “She is certainly fair enough in face,” his mother added, and I wondered suddenly if it was really me they spoke of. Was there some other girl locked in a different wagon? My sisters had said many things about my complexion over the years, none of them complimentary.

  “But what chance can she possibly stand against the evil one? Better that the pearls are in our possession, so we might at least protect ourselves.”

  “But if we helped her—” Gemine began.

  “It would seem the charmer has been charmed,” the man said.

  “I don’t see why. She’s completely inept,” the younger woman argued. “How can she possibly do as foretold when she could not even refute a simple bodily charm?”

  “Jealous, Simone?” Gemine asked.

  “Enough.” The man cut them off. “It matters not how pretty she is, or what it has been said she will do. Either way, she is a danger to us, and the sooner we are rid of her, the better. If Nadamaris discovers we’ve had anything to do with her, we will all pay.”

  “Agreed,” the other woman answered smugly.

  “Agreed,” Gemine’s mother said. “Once we have the pearls, we must leave the kingdom— and Adrielle— behind. Death seeks her, even now.”

  I held my breath, waiting for her son to say something else— something different— hoping against hope he would stand up for me, that he would take my side.

  “Agreed.” His voice was quiet.

  Disappointed, but not surprised, I leaned my head against the side of the wagon. Once a snake, always a snake. From now on, I would be most wary of them— in all their varieties.

/>   It was the pearls that woke me the second time that night. I still held them in my hand, and their warmth had turned to burning against my skin. Holding my palm flat, I was grateful for their illumination. Outside the sky was pitch black, and it seemed I’d been locked in the dark forever.

  The conversation I’d heard earlier replayed in my mind, and I tried, as I had before drifting off to sleep, to make sense of it. What was it Gemine and the other man had said about the pearls? That I didn’t know their value, and that if I did, I wouldn’t still be here?

  That seemed quite silly. Of course I realized they were valuable— extraordinary, really, what with the way they glowed. And that was precisely why I was still here. Because I wasn’t willing to part with them. To be sure, there was something magical about them, but I couldn’t say what exactly. They’d warmed and glowed periodically since I’d had them in my possession, but I had no idea why they did that or what it meant. And, magical or not, with all the difficulty they’d caused in the last twenty-four hours, it was a wonder I didn’t bid them a happy farewell.

  But Merry Anne’s face, and especially her belief in me, wouldn’t let me give in. So here I sat. Cold and miserable, and without a plan or hope to escape.

  With considerable effort, I dragged my sore body up and balanced on my knees to peer out the barred window. Looking directly down, I could barely make out the heavy padlock and chain still in place. Apparently, though I’d willed it so, Gemine hadn’t had an attack of conscience in the middle of the night. Plucking the flower from my hair— the one he’d placed there earlier— I let it drop through the bars to the ground below. It was time I stopped hoping he would come and rescue me. He’d done his job as a charmer well, and though I’d wanted to have a turn at it myself, it was not to be.

  The shawl went next, falling in a heap on the step of the wagon. I wanted nothing of theirs touching me. Nothing that might make me imagine they were friendly or sympathetic to my cause.