by Drea Damara
She smiled at the accolade of being declared a “woman” after living so long as a “child.” “Well…we must have had some very wise dolls.” She raised her glass. Vasimus chuckled and tapped his against hers.
The players switched to a livelier tune. Couples came together throughout the room and joined hands. As the melody hit higher notes, the couples quickly spun and twirled. The men’s arms would come down around the women’s waists, and then back over their heads. Everyone seemed to be laughing at the delight of the pace and motions. She watched with fascination, never having seen this before nor remembering ever reading about it in the book. Was it possible Farwin Wood took on a life of its own? People yelped boisterous cries alongside the music, and Sarah found herself laughing at the sheer pleasure of everyone’s delight.
A stray strand of hair tickled her ear and warmth touched her neck as she felt Vasimus’s breath close to her skin. “Do you know this dance?”
“No, I’ve never seen it.”
“Would you like to try?”
Sarah turned her head toward the voice and had the urge to lean the few inches closer that would let Vasimus’s face touch hers. “I…don’t know how.”
“I hardly know myself,” he said softly.
“I think people would end up laughing at me.”
She felt his fingers slip under hers, pulling them away from her goblet. “That’s impossible. I won’t let them.”
Vasimus came around her chair and guided her to a place in front of the table. Standing in front of her, he gently grasped both of her hands and glanced to see when the other couples would turn next. She cast a quick look at Richard. Her brother sat with one arm behind Deronda’s chair, the couple both looking at her and Vasimus with evident surprise.
Before she could voice further protest, Vasimus lifted her arms above her head and shifted her to his side. Still facing her, he guided her gently to his other side in time with the music. Then the room whirled as she found herself in a spin, stopping about-face to see his handsome smile waiting for her. Maybe dancing wasn’t so bad.
Their hands clasped together, he pulled her left hand behind his back in his and then their other hands behind her back. He pivoted them in a unified spin, and she felt like they were one entity. She soon realized there was no rhyme or reason to how each couple spun. They just bobbed slightly up and down by bending at the knee in time with the beat, every second in some sort of spin or twirl with their partner. Her sensations focused to each new touch as Vasimus’s arm would press gently across her back or arm. With each new smile she saw from him as she turned, she felt her own growing across her face, and soon they were laughing and spinning ever-faster.
Sarah found Deronda and Richard had joined in. As Vasimus spun her once again, the flash of their own smiles passed by her face. It wasn’t long before the crowd had backed away to give more room to the two couples, and a steady clapping arose. Whoops and hollers floated up from the happy crowd. Richard tried new spins and goose steps to impress them, which led way to friendly competition.
Vasimus lifted her into the air by her waist and rapidly turned them in time with the music’s climax. She laughed so hard she was breathless and almost relieved when the music ceased. Amidst the roar of applause, she slid down the solid expanse of Vasimus’s chest, and he lowered her to the ground. His arm now firmly around her waist, she panted from the exertion and could feel his chest rise and fall where her hands rested against the front of his shirt. Lips parted, he gazed down at her as they breathed.
The melded feeling of his closeness was interrupted when she felt Deronda grasp her arm. Her friend pulled her in close for a hug and laughed. Sarah pulled her mind away from the intoxication of her dance partner and grasped Deronda’s arms. “Oh, what fun that was!”
Deronda seemed breathless herself. “Yes, we haven’t had so much dancing in quite some time. And you dance so well!”
“I hardly knew what I was doing. Luckily, Vasimus did.”
“Yes, Sarah, what have you done to my brother?” Deronda quipped. “He never dances, and here he was twirling you about the place!” Deronda exclaimed with an amused expression.
“Shall we try another?” Richard appeared and said, beaming down at Deronda.
Deronda pressed a hand to her chest, clearly startled. “I think your brother has taken a liking to our dancing, as well.”
Sarah watched Deronda sidle up to Richard as a slower melody began to play. She knew Vasimus was somewhere in the crowd behind her. Never dances, Deronda had said. Then what had that been all about? Her heart was still hammering.
“I think I’ll step outside for some air,” she called when she realized she must look like she was gawking. Deronda gave her a nod before Richard spun her out of sight. Sarah took a step and felt someone touch her elbow.
“Sarah do you feel faint? Did I spin you too quickly?” Vasimus appeared at her side. Had he been there the whole time?
“No, it’s just a bit warm in here, and…I think your ale might have been a little strong.”
His expression went serious, and he put an arm around her waist. “Here. Come with me.” He steered her through the crowd, his other arm extended protectively to keep people from bumping into them. She smelled a hint of something sweet and cinnamon in nature from his clothing. A gentle breeze wafted through an archway near the back of the room, and Vasimus guided her up the single step to a terrace lined with ivy-covered stones and porticoes. He guided her to a half wall at the edge of the terrace that looked down upon the gardens and the River Duke beyond.
The moonlight illuminated the greenery and cast shadows down from the higher shrubbery. Sarah inhaled the cool night air and basked in its cleanliness compared to the stuffy bookstore.
“There. Is that better?” Vasimus asked quietly.
“Yes, thank you.” She numbly walked beside him until she no longer felt overheated. The sound of her thoughts in the silence began to wear on her now that the noise couldn’t drown them out. She broke away from the solid arm that was still about her waist and walked over to the terrace wall. She laid her sweaty palms on the damp stones of the wall top and looked down at the garden grounds.
The scrape of Vasimus’s boots let her know he had followed her and was just a few feet away. She sighed, content with the mix of solitude and the knowledge that he was still close. “It’s so beautiful here.”
“What is Blinney like?”
Sarah hid her smile at the question. “It’s much less green. It’s mostly buildings.” She wasn’t sure how else to describe the little stretch of street she knew as home.
“Then I see now why your family likes to come here,” Vasimus remarked thoughtfully. “I suppose we do not fully appreciate our lush surroundings.”
“Yes, Blinney can be a bit stifling.” That was an understatement.
“Sarah?” Vasimus’s voice neared. She turned her head to see him rest his hands on the wall a few feet to her side.
“Yes?”
“Will you let me then—show you all Farwin Wood has to offer while you are here for the summer? Before you go back to the confines of Blinney?”
Why does he look nervous, as though I’ll disappoint him if I refuse? “I would like that, but you don’t need to show me all of Farwin Wood.”
He smiled. “We’ll start with just some of it then.”
“I’m sure you have more serious things to do than make sure I’m happy.”
Vasimus straightened up and faced her. “On the contrary. I think making you happy should be taken very seriously.”
“Oh,” was all she could get out. The silence that followed made her anxious and so she added, “Not too serious, I hope. Where would be the fun in that?”
The breeze chilled her perspiring skin, causing her to shudder. She brought her arms around her to ward off the cold and steady her nerves.
“Are you cold? Shall we go back inside?”
“Yes. I think I’ll go up to my room now. Will I offend your fa
ther if I leave the party early?”
Vasimus laughed. “My father has probably retired for the night already. Think nothing of it. Here,” he extended his arm to her, “I’ll escort you.”
They walked off the terrace to an entrance that opened into a hallway behind the kitchen. Vasimus led them up two flights of stairs to a wide corridor lined with several doors and banners hanging in the space between them. He stopped in front of an entrance to a room she remembered staying in during her childhood visits. “Here you are. I believe they brought your things into the room upon your arrival.”
“Thank you.”
“I’ll let Richard know you’ve retired for the night.”
“I don’t think he’ll notice that I’m gone. He seemed to be enjoying himself.”
“And did you?”
“Yes. I had a wonderful time,” she said, assuring him.
“Tomorrow morning? Shall we start our adventures then?”
Sarah smiled. She couldn’t tell him what she wanted to say—that she was already on an adventure. “I’ll be ready.”
Vasimus picked up her hand and paused as he noticed the marks on her wrist when her sleeve drew back. “Are you hurt?”
She pulled her hand quickly away, ashamed of her scars. “No! Well, yes. I was. A long time ago. It’s just scarred now and looks awful. I try to keep it covered, but it’s not always easy to do.”
Vasimus said nothing for a moment. Had she embarrassed him? “Well, until tomorrow, Sarah.” He did not take her hand again but instead placed a soft kiss on her cheek.
“Good night.”
She went inside after Vasimus strode back down the hallway. She tugged herself out of the elaborate dress and donned a ruffled sleeping gown Netta had placed in her wardrobe. She let out a soothing moan against the plush pillow of the oversize bed in the room and looked out through the open balcony doors at the twinkling stars. She didn’t know if she still felt like she was spinning on the dance floor from the beetleburry ale or if she was reliving the sensation as she looked out the window. Whichever it was made her feel giddy and she found it difficult to fall asleep.
Several minutes went by, and then Sarah heard the scrape of boots she knew to be familiar out in the hallway nearing her door. They sounded like they stopped in front of the room across from hers, and there was silence for a moment before she heard the door open and the steps go inside. He hadn’t stayed at the party; he must have returned after informing Richard. She felt comfort in his nearness and soothing warmth came over her. As she closed her eyes, she smiled at the memory of his words: On the contrary, I think making you happy should be taken very seriously.
ALLISTER’S BOOKS
PRESENT DAY
SARAH SAT up in her bed as the morning light crept through the window. She rubbed her eyes and peeked under the bandages on her wrists. The skin still felt raw. Peering under one bandage, she noticed the tiny blisters hadn’t dried. This meant that the ones on the wrist where she wore her bracelet would have healed even less, the bracelet keeping the air from touching her skin. She wished she could take it off, but she didn’t dare with Ricky in her care. The last time Richard had visited and Sarah had taken off the bracelet before bed, she’d found it across the floor ramming against the door from the curse’s beckoning. She shouldn’t have even taken it off yesterday for those few moments, but her skin had been so irritated.
Mary had supplied her with some stronger ointment yesterday. She’d also given her more shampoo and toothpaste for Ricky. When he was out the other day, she’d checked his supply and was happy to find that his bottle was almost empty. He must have been using it, although it didn’t seem to deter his penchant for curse words.
As she became more alert, she felt queasy and pressure rose in her chest. She exhaled, wondering if her thoughts were already vexing her this early in the morning. She felt afraid. As she looked down at her other wrist, she realized why. The last thought she’d had before waking had been about Vasimus and the day he gave her the bracelet.
Oh, no. She really did have that dream.
She ripped the covers away and forcefully got out of bed. She stomped into her bathroom to reapply the cream Mary had given her, determined not to revisit her thoughts of the night. She wouldn’t let the book taunt her with the memories she’d forced away for almost the last twenty years. Not now.
She ran cool water over her wrists and tried to humor herself, anything to keep a clear mind. At least the villagers hadn’t given Agatha Blinney black eyes, she thought. She could be walking around with two black eyes all day. Vasimus had beautiful eyes… Damn it!
Why had her mind wandered in her sleep to that unforgettable summer? Was Agatha Blinney so cruel that she sought to torment every villager’s ancestor for all eternity? Did all pleasant memories need a repercussion?
Shoot! She looked down, realizing she’d just put her underwear on inside out. Yes, the curse made you put your underwear on the wrong way, she chided herself.
“God, I’m losing my mind,” she said with a groan.
IN THE room down the hallway, Ricky slapped the whiny alarm clock and grumbled. Another day on the pages of boring history, he thought sarcastically and rolled out of bed.
“Ah! Crap!”
A sharp pain sliced through his shoulders, and he slapped an arm around to his back instinctively. The skin welted, and he lightly touched his fingers across the places he could reach, detecting the size and length of the raised flesh.
“What the?”
He stumbled groggily into the bathroom and flipped on the light. He squinted into the mirror but saw no marks of mosquito bites on his face. He thought maybe something had bitten him while he slept. Turning around to inspect his back in the mirror, he gasped at the sight of his upper back.
Five long, maroon-colored welts about a half-inch wide stretched from the top of his shoulder blades in various angles down to the middle of his back.
“Holy cow! That’s no grass burn.”
Was he having an allergic reaction to something? Or had the few tackles he took the other day residually surfaced their impressions just now? He took a chance with the stinky shampoo his aunt had given him and let the suds run down his back in the shower. If her oddball remedy didn’t help reduce his irritation by tomorrow, he decided he might have to ask her to check out whatever was going on back there.
A minute feeling of relief came over the tender skin when Ricky got out of the shower. He hoped that was a sign that the brown goo actually had some antibiotic effect. He found the loosest fitting shirt he’d packed and decided that would alleviate any unwanted chafing throughout the day ahead of him. He stared at himself in the mirror once he couldn’t think of any other excuse to avoid going downstairs.
“I’m too young to waste away in a place like this,” he said to his reflection.
Wait a minute! Shelby. Shelby might be back today, and she just might have some praise for the guy who had recommended such a good book to her! He hurried out of the room in his newfound enthusiasm to open up the shop.
Ricky was grateful that Aunt Sarah had assumed counter duty for the day. He was too anxious; he glanced out the window in anticipation for Shelby’s face when she arrived. He burned off his excitement by moving around the shop pricing new books, straightening displays, and doing any other task that kept him active. Why, on a day when he had so much energy, did his aunt seem so inattentive? It was already noon, and she had spent most of the day staring out the window and fidgeting with that stupid bracelet she always wore.
SARAH LOOKED out at the heat of the summer day, the sweaty tourists walking down Blinney Lane, the glare of the warmth rising up in the air. A woman strolled slowly by the shop window, her large hairy dog lumbering along on its leash with its tongue drooped out to the side. It stopped, turned its head, and looked directly at her. It was a Saint Bernard. The sight of it instantly delivered her back to Farwin Wood. She ran her finger over the floral ring attached to her bracelet and felt as tho
ugh her heart would burst.
Vasimus had given her the bracelet that the ring was affixed to on the second day of their “adventure,” as he had called it. They’d ridden east of Daundecort Hall that day; the land flattened out into a vast valley, littered with fields and cottages. They took their stroomphblutels and rode among the village roads where Sarah saw a new kind of creature she’d never known existed in Farwin Wood—roomples.
Roomples looked like sheep with less wool and no legs. They crawled on their bellies, their bodies rippling like a caterpillar’s. Because of their slow progress, roomples were a domesticated farm animal that depended on farmers to feed them. Each time they passed a pen full of roomples, Sarah gawked at them in wonder. Vasimus seemed delighted that he’d found something new to fascinate her. They stopped at a small inn for lunch, where he then teased her for not having the heart to try roast roomple. When they returned to Daundecort Hall that afternoon, where Sarah and Richard had both ended up staying on longer than planned, Vasimus gave her the leather bracelet.
“I see that I may have embarrassed you the other night,” he started with soft hesitation. “I have watched you and can tell you do not like for anyone to see your wrists, so I made this for you. It’s from the wickrit we had at the feast for you and your brother.” He gently put the intricately braided leather band on her wrist. Later that summer, Vasimus gave her something she held even more dear—the small, golden, floral ring that hung on that very bracelet today.
“Excuse me? Miss?” A man impatiently cleared his throat on the other side of Sarah’s counter. She abruptly sat up, ashamed of her daydreaming.
“Yes? Sorry.”
“Do you have any nautical books? About sailing?” Sarah directed the man to the travel and sport sections, and then walked back to the counter to find something productive to pass the time.
About ten minutes later the man she had helped slowly walked to the door, empty-handed. Sarah looked up at the scraping sound of his feet against the wood floor.