A thought struck me. What about Sloan … and Artan? I opened my mouth to ask, but just as I did, I Ryane looked beyond my shoulder and nodded. Then returned her eyes to me. “Come on. We’re ready.”
Under the largest tent, three long tables formed a big U. Only the outer side had chairs. Darcy, Oscar, and some other older people I was quickly introduced to and had already forgotten their names, sat at the table in the middle, facing the empty center.
I was placed right between the old hag and her son.
Ryane, Artan, Sloan, and Stefano were seated at the table to our left. A young man I didn’t know—I didn’t know a lot of people here—sat beside Ryane. They talked among themselves and the way their bodies were turned to each other, I assumed he was Tomas, her fiancé. Artan was seated to her right, and Sloan to Artan’s right. They were alone. No girls. Did that mean they weren’t promised? I doubted that.
“Here.” Darcy placed a big plateful of food in front of me. “I served a little of everything for you to try.” She smiled at me. “Enjoy.”
“Thanks,” I muttered, glancing down at my plate.
Of course, Darcy had to explain some of it to me. Paprika Stew—a little bowl with a reddish cream. Manriklo—a triangular flat bread with rosemary, dill, and bacon. Blini—a thin, sweet pancake. Galuski—small, round balls that looked like dumplings, and were seasoned with cinnamon and saffron.
The rest looked either delicious or completely foreign and the mix of the strong scents was enough to hint at an oncoming headache.
I poked my finger through what looked like hummus. I sniffed it. Hmm, cinnamon and vanilla? I knew I would like this one. I licked my finger and almost moaned as the taste buds in my mouth exploded. Well, even if I didn’t like the rest, I knew I would like this one, whatever it was. I dunked my finger in it and, closing my eyes, licked it once more.
I opened my eyes and found Artan, seated in his spot, staring at me. His adam’s apple bobbed. Heat spread through my cheeks. He averted his eyes, turning to talk to Sloan, and I shrunk in my seat, suddenly embarrassed. What if other people had seen me licking glaze off my finger?
Shaking my head, I picked up a spoon and ate it properly.
The strum of chords rang loud through the tent, silencing everyone.
A group stood at the edge of the tent with a guitar, harmonica, accordion, and tambourine. Flamenco melody filled the place and a group of young men entered the tent, occupying the empty U space between the tables.
“I hope you enjoy this,” Oscar said, his tone and face serious.
I nodded and returned my attention to the warriors.
The ten young men formed two lines facing each other. They were dressed in dark brown suede pants, long boots, a beige shirt, brown vest, and a thick sash on their waist, and a long, slightly curved sword was tucked on their right side, and a short dagger on their left.
The song changed to a series of beats and, coming from the warriors, stomps. The crowd followed suit, clapping with the rhythm, while the warriors enacted a fight. First with punches and kicks and dodges and incredible jumps, next with their swords. The first clank of metal on metal so close to me made me jump, and I almost fell off my chair.
“It’s safe, dear,” Darcy whispered to me. “They know what they are doing.”
Like a practiced dance, the warriors moved with ease from blow to blow. I hated to admit it, but it was thrilling to watch. And, as the sun set and the lanterns filled the place with a magical glow, I found myself entranced.
The warriors finished their demonstration with a deep bow to me. Feeling self-conscious from all the eyes on me, I just clapped and nodded my appreciation.
Next, a group of mixed genders and ages entered the set-up stage.
Ryane was in the middle of them. She stepped forward and curtsied to me. “We would like to show you a little about our abilities.”
Then she waved her hand and the water inside the pitchers placed on top of the tables flew up in the air. I gasped, in awe, as long clear tendrils of water stretched around her. She played with it, making shapes and flinging it everywhere, but never letting go, not losing one drop, or getting anything wet.
A big ball of water gathered at her joined palms. Then, in the blink of an eye, it stretched into a long line and froze over. Ryane closed her hand around the spike and, with a grunt, she spun around and let the spike fly.
A tall wall of rocks appeared on the back of the improvised stage. The spike hit it, breaking into millions of shards that melted into tiny drops of water on the floor.
A teenager, not older than fourteen, stepped forward. He moved his hands and the wall of rocks moved with him. Like Ryane had done with water, he played with the rocks and the earth.
Then came an even younger kid, a girl of seven or eight. She sent a strong wind my way, flinging my hair back as if I was being swept by a tornado. I gasped, then smiled at her.
Like something had pulled at me, I glanced at Artan. And he glanced at me. Air was his specialty. Why wasn’t he demonstrating his power to me? And why hadn’t he and Sloan joined the warriors?
One corner of his lip tugged up.
This time, I swallowed hard and forced my attention back to the young girl, who was floating around the air … like flying.
I gaped.
Next, came a man who could read minds, then a young boy who could move objects with his thoughts, and a woman who could disappear into one corner of the room, and in the next instant, appear on the other side.
I frowned, thinking … I had been shown tziganes who could use earth, air, and water elements. “What about fire?” I asked Darcy in a low voice.
She turned to me, her expression suddenly gloom. “Nobody can manipulate fire.”
Why? I wanted to ask her, but she returned her attention to the demonstration and I did the same.
More tziganes and more abilities. I was in awe of all they could do.
Finally, a group of young women dressed in matching red dresses, black shoes, side braids adorned by red roses, and castanets in their hands, entered the stage. The musicians started playing a flamenco song and the women started dancing.
As I watched the graceful women move their arms and hips and stomp their feet along with the beats of the sensual song, my insides itched to dance with them.
The song ended with a long strum of the guitar and the women with their knees on the ground and hands up in the air.
We all clapped and cheered as they took a bow.
Then Oscar stood from his seat. “And now, the party starts.”
The musicians began playing again.
The young dancers went around the room, pulling people from their seats and bringing them to the center of the tent. A young woman extended her hands to Sloan. Smiling at her, he slipped his hands into hers and let her guide him away.
Another young woman reached for Artan, but he shook his head, and she moved on to another person.
Then one of the girls was in front of me. “Come on.”
I shook my head. “Oh, no …”
Darcy laughed. “Everyone has heard you’re a dancer, Mirella. You better go.” She pushed me from my chair while the girl clasped my hands and pulled me to her. I couldn’t win this one.
I let the girl take me to the middle of the tent, but I barely moved while she whirled around me. Ryane and Tomas appeared by my side.
With a smile, Ryane bumped her hips on mine. “Come on, Mirella. We want to see your moves.”
I wasn’t shy naturally, only when put in the spotlight, and I had never been shy when dancing—not for recitals or competitions. But right now? Right now I felt like all eyes were on me, not just from curiosity, but to observe, to judge. I couldn’t bring myself to let go of my insecurity and dance.
So I only swayed side to side with Clarita, the girl who had picked me to dance. Soon the four of us were joined by Stefano, who kept smiling too broadly at me, Sloan, and the girl who had taken him to dance—who, from the way they looked at each other I no
w was starting to think was his fiancée.
My head snapped to the side. Artan was still in the same spot as before, though he wasn’t seated anymore. He was standing, talking to two other warriors. Where was his fiancée? Or … was he old enough that he was already married? If so … where was his wife?
As if sensing me, Artan turned his gaze to me. He locked his eyes on mine. Heat spread through my cheeks. He had seen me dancing for real before. More heat warmed my face.
I averted my gaze.
After a while, I went back to the table to drink some water and found Darcy’s eyes on me. Oscar had moved and was now standing at the corner of the tent with other older men.
“Sit down.” The old hag’s tone was serious.
Frowning, I took the seat beside her again. “Is there a problem?”
She glanced out to the crowd dancing in front of us. “Your mother was banished because she was promised to a tzigane and got pregnant by a gadjo.”
I gasped. No, I wasn’t supposed to hear this. Not yet. My mother assured me they wouldn’t tell me about it. That she would.
“Are … are you saying my father is a gadjo?”
Darcy turned cold, brown eyes at me. “Yes. Your mother disgraced us. Not only by forfeiting her betrothal, but also by doing so with a gadjo.”
I didn’t know what to say.
Other than … “I’m only half tzigane.”
“Yes. And I can’t explain why I feel your senses, your power so strong. Having only half of our blood, and without nurture, your powers should be weak.”
“They are weak,” I said. “I know everybody keeps saying my powers are strong, but they aren’t.” My cheeks heated, because I felt awkward talking about it with Darcy. “I’ve trained with Sheila and I’m hopeless.”
Darcy’s brows creased. “About that … I would like you to come train with me instead.”
“I—”
“I shouldn’t have to, but I’ll point out why. One, this was your mother’s enclave, and thus your enclave. Yes, your mother was banished, but we would be willing to take you, to train you, and to involve you in our community.”
“But not my mother?”
She shook her head once. “That would be complicated. I won’t say never, but right now, no.” She sighed. “Two, look around. Our community, our lifestyle, our tradition, our safety … it’s all better here than in Bellville. And three, I’m stronger than Sheila. I can train you and figure out why we keep sensing a strong power coming from you.”
I had said it once to Artan and here it was again. The way his grandmother wanted to control everything. The way she put the others down and glorified Lovell, and herself, as the best in the world.
That was the reason for my answer.
I locked my eyes with Darcy’s. Determined and unflinching. “No.”
I only got a brief glance of her wide, shocked eyes before I stood and went to find Artan so he could take me home.
20
The drive back was a little less tense than the one coming to Lovell. I credited that to the fact that Darcy and Oscar weren’t in the car. And Sloan too. Though, I wouldn’t have minded his company since during the party Sloan had been a little more open to me—but he was still a fierce warrior.
It was only Artan and me in the SUV, and I felt like a wall of concrete was driving the car.
We had just entered Broken Hill when he finally said something. “You’re taking all of this better than I imagined.”
I frowned. “How did you imagined I would take it?”
One corner of his lips tugged up. “Not you. I mean, an outsider. I guess I never stopped to think a tzigane could not know about his or her origins, so I’ve been trying to imagine how it would be, to be oblivious to my culture and way of life and suddenly find out about it.”
I glanced out the window. “You can start imagining how upset you would be with the person who lied to you for so many years.”
Silence.
“I guess that must be pretty hard.”
“You have no idea,” I whispered. There was only blackness out on the interstate. He didn’t prod for more. I didn’t take Artan to be curious, or if he was curious, he wasn’t nosy and kept it all to himself. However, I was curious. I turned my gaze back to him. “You said you can control air. Why didn’t you participate in the demonstration?”
He scoffed. “That’s not my thing.”
So, he really was the quiet kind. The kind who stayed to the shadows, observing, learning, gathering information. For what? Artan had been like that all night. For the almost two hours that I danced with his sister and cousin and friends—and even with Stefano, who swore his love to me again—he had barely moved from his initial position, his gaze ninety-nine percent of the time on us. On me.
At some points, he had narrowed his eyes and his brows furrowed, as if he had been analyzing me, considering how much of a nuisance, or a threat, I was. Even so, I had been able to let go and move a little more and dance—not just sway side to side. Nothing like that afternoon he had seen me at the studio, but it had been nice.
All night, young women had gone to Artan and asked him to dance. He always declined. Which made me more curious about him. About his love life. In the safe darkness of the car, I stared at him. Even with the poor light coming from the night sky, I could see the shadows playing on the sharp angles of his face. He was handsome; that was a fact no one could deny. Then why wasn’t he married yet? Or … I swallowed a gasp. Or, he had been married and his wife had been taken by alchemists? Just like Theron’s fiancée had been killed.
I opened my mouth to ask about it, gently, but suddenly, only ten minutes from my building, Artan turned onto a different street and started driving away.
I tensed. “You’re going the wrong way.”
He continued staring at the road. “No, I’m going the right way.”
“But my place is that way.” I pointed back. “Where are you taking me?”
“To where I was instructed to take you.”
“What the hell does that mean?”
I kept asking about it, but Artan didn’t answer. A few minutes later, he entered a nice townhouse subdivision and pulled in front of a house with golden shrubs around the lot’s perimeter.
An annoyed sigh escaped from my throat.
“Please, Artan, I won’t stay here.”
“It’s safer.”
I groaned. “Think of someone you can’t stand. Or you’re mad at. Or someone who hurt you and now you have to be around this person, but all you want to do is run.” His brows curled down. “Being with her is all that for me. I know, deep down, that I love her. She’s my mother, after all. But I need my privacy. I need my space. I need space from her.” Desperate, I reached over and placed my hand on his arm. The sleeve of his shirt was folded to his elbow, and my finger grazed the warm skin of his forearm. He went utterly still and his gaze dipped to my hand on his arm. Shit, what had I done? I quickly pulled my hand away and whispered, “Sorry.”
Artan sucked in a sharp breath, then nodded once. “Okay. But don’t make me regret this.”
I smiled at him. “Thanks.”
He stared at me for a moment too long, his brows knotting again. “You’re welcome.”
Then he turned the car around and drove me home. He parked in front of my building and I stared out the window, to the golden shrubs peppered around the perimeter.
“I’ll repeat just once. Please, don’t make me regret this. Stay inside. You should be safe then.”
I tilted my head. “Are you saying alchemists wouldn’t come inside?”
He groaned. “Oh, they would, but the golden horehound shrubs should make it hard to track you here.”
I nodded. “Thanks for the ride.” I opened the door and started moving out.
“Wait.” Artan grabbed my wrist. I froze, looking at him. He quickly pulled his hand away. “Hmm, I’m supposed to ask what you thought of your visit.”
A soft smile spread over
my lips. “Were those orders?”
One corner of his lips tugged up. “Something like that.”
I could just say, “it was fine,” but for his sake, I decided to elaborate. “It was … different. At first, I felt overwhelmed. There was too much. Too much color, too many people, too much to see and learn. Your sister was patient with me when showing me around.”
“Don’t let her sweet talk rope you in. She can be a pain in the ass.”
I smiled at him, imagining Artan and Ryane bickering. That I wanted to see. Again, his gaze flicked to my smile, to my mouth. I cleared my throat and continued, “The food was delicious and the demonstrations were over the top, but I’m grateful. Please thank your grandmother and everyone who had a hand in the feast for me.” After saying no to Darcy’s offer, I hadn’t had the stomach to face her again and thank her. And, even though I thought she was an old hag, she had been a good host. Up until the end.
He nodded. “I will.”
I hopped out of the SUV. “Good night, Artan.”
“Good night.”
I closed the door and climbed the couple of steps to the front door. Using my keys, I unlocked the door and pushed in. Once my entire body was inside, I turned and waved at him, showing him I was already inside.
The car started moving away.
I closed the door and took a deep breath.
I didn’t have time to think of anything as a figure appeared from beside the stairs. The guy dressed in all black and with his hoodie pulled low.
He saw me and lifted his chin. “Hey, it’s you.” He stumbled toward me. “I need to talk to you.”
I swallowed a scream and, not looking back, raced up the stairs and entered my apartment. I locked the door and leaned against it, willing my heartbeat and my breathing to slow down.
The woman didn’t give up. Sheila kept pushing my limitations, hoping I would burst in power and prove Felix right in choosing me to open up to.
To be honest, I thought she was mad—even though she assured me she wasn’t—that I had gone to Lovell yesterday and had spent a few hours with them. Now, she was making me pay by squeezing all the energy out of me.
Heart Seeker (The Fire Heart Chronicles Book 1) Page 16