First Light (9 page)

“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.

Easing myself onto my sore backside once again, I tried not to lose heart as I studied the pearls in my hand. “How I wish I was out of here and safe in Tallinyne,” I said, voicing my desperation aloud.

A peculiar thing happened then. One pearl began moving, edging along the ribbon toward the knot at the end of the string. I tried to close my hand around it but was not quick enough. In the blink of an eye, the knot undid itself, and the pearl, glowing even brighter, jumped from my palm and rolled away.

I tucked what was left of the bracelet into my bodice and reached for the stray gem.
For a brief second my finger touched it, and I recoiled, feeling as if I’d been burned with a hot poker.

The tip of my finger glowed red, and a blister rose up on the skin. Tears stung my eyes as I blew on my finger, fearing what would happen to my lips if I dared try to cool the burned appendage in my mouth.

While I tended my wound, the pearl rolled on, leaving a glowing, red-hot trail on the floor behind it. I scooted out of its path and watched as, magically, three sides of a rectangle appeared on the floor. By the time the third side had been completed, the first had turned to ash. My finger, too, had cooled quickly and no longer stung. Cautiously, I approached the pearl. It jumped out of my reach.

“Now, see here,” I muttered. I wasn’t about to let it fall through a floorboard or get lost in the dark.

I crawled forward across the partially-completed rectangle, then let out a half-screech as the lines made by the pearl broke away, tilting the floor at a slant, and I went sliding toward the ground below the wagon. My forehead smashed into dewy grass, while my hands scrambled, too late, to break my fall. I felt something brush against one of them and pulled back, expecting a mouse or insect. Instead the pearl buzzed by, glowing nearly as bright as it had in my prison. It jetted off toward the forest, and I struggled to follow, crawling out from beneath the wagon, as the glow disappeared into the trees.