Chapter 18

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We must walk half a league over brambles that scratch and cut our legs to get to the

Gypsy camp. The nights are turning colder now. The damp air is raw. It hurts my lungs on

the way in and it comes out of my mouth in short white puffs of mist. By the time we

reach the edge of the camp, take in the tents and the campfire, the large, wooden wagons

and the men playing boxy violins, my side aches from the effort. There are three large

dogs sitting on the ground. How we'll get past them, I don't know.

"Now what?" Ann whispers between gulps for air.

The women are off in their own tents. A few children mill about. Five young men sit

drinking around the fire, trading stories in a tongue we can't understand. One of the men

tells a joke. His friends clap and laugh. The sound, low and guttural, creeps into my

insides in a way that makes me feel like running for safety—or running till I'm caught. To

face what, I'm uncertain. My mind doesn't reach that far. It's all enough to set my heart to

hammering.

One of the men is Ithal. In the firelight, his strange gold eyes dance. I catch Felicity's eye,

nod in his direction to show he's there.

Ann catches on, looks around, scared. "What is it?"

"A change of plans. We'll have to come back tomorrow, during the day."

Ann objects. "But you said…"

I turn to leave but my foot breaks a twig with a loud crack. The dogs bark wildly. Ithal is

up with his dagger, alert as any feral thing is. Using their native tongue, he shushes his

friends. Now they, too, are coiled, ready to strike.

"Bravo," Felicity snaps.

"Don't blame me. Take it up with the forest," I say through gritted teeth.

Ithal holds up a finger to his comrades. He calls out in English. "Who's there?"

"We're done for," Ann whispers, petrified.

"Not quite," Felicity says. She stands up straight and steps out from behind the tree while

we try to pull her back down.

"What are you doing?" Ann says in a loud, panicked whisper.

Felicity ignores us. She walks out toward them, an apparition in white and blue velvet,

her head held high as they stare in awe at her, the goddess. I don't yet know what power

feels like. But this is surely what it looks like, and I think I'm beginning to understand

why those ancient women had to hide in caves. Why our parents and teachers and suitors

want us to behave properly and predictably. It's not that they want to protect us; it's that

they fear us.

Ithal breaks into a lascivious grin. He bows to her. When he spies us hiding behind the

tree as if it's our mother's apron, he whistles sweetly to us, but the wolfish grin is still

there.

I want to run all the way back to Spence. But I can't leave Felicity here. And the men

might come after me, into the deep cover of the woods. Taking Ann's clammy hand in

mine, I walk tall into that towering circle of men as it closes around the three of us.

"I knew you could not stay away," Ithal says teasingly to Felicity.

"You knew nothing of the sort. As I recall, I left you standing on the other side of the wall

the other day. That's where you'll always belong—on the other side of things." She's

mocking him. It doesn't seem a wise course, but I've never found myself surrounded by

virile Gypsy men in the middle of the night woods before. I'm in no position to advise or

argue. I can only hold my breath and wait.

Ithal steps closer, toys with the cape's ribbon at the hollow of Felicity's throat. His voice

is boisterous, laughing, but the smile doesn't travel to his eyes. They are wounded and

angry. "I'm not on that side of the wall tonight."

"Please," Ann croaks. "We've only come to see Mother Elena."

"Mother is not here right now," one of the men says. He's not much older than a boy,

really. Maybe fifteen, with a nose he hasn't grown into quite yet. If we have to make a run

for it, he's the one I'm kicking first.

"I demand to see Mother Elena," Felicity says, cool and sure. I'm the only one who can

see how truly scared she is, and her fear frightens me more than the situation at hand.

How did we get into this mess? And how do we get out?

"What's going on?" Kartik strolls into the thick of things in his borrowed Gypsy disguise,

his makeshift cricket bat in one hand. His eyes go wide when he sees me.

"Please, we need to see Mother Elena," I say, hoping I don't sound as terrified as I feel.

Ithal holds his hands up, exposing the thick calluses that crisscross his palms, a memento

of a harsh life lived out-of-doors. "Ah… this gadje is yours. I apologize, friend."

Kartik scoffs. "She's not…" He stops himself. "Yes, she is mine." He grabs my hand and

pulls me out of the circle. A chorus of whistles and cheers follow us. Another hand snakes

around my free wrist. It's attached to the boy with the big nose I spied earlier.

"How do we know she's yours? She does not seem so willing," he teases. "Perhaps she

will come with me instead."

Kartik hesitates, long enough for a small laugh of suspicion to ripple through the men.

The other man's grip on my arm is strong and I can taste fear, cold and metallic, in my

mouth. There's no time to be modest. Reason will not work here. Without warning, I kiss

Kartik. His lips, pressed firmly against mine, are a surprise. They're warm, light as breath,

firm as the give of a peach against my mouth. A scent like scorched cinnamon hangs in

the air, but I'm not falling into any vision. It's his smell in me. A smell that makes my

stomach drop through my feet. A smell that pushes all thought out of my head and

replaces it with an overpowering hunger for more.

Kartik's tongue slips between my lips for a second, jarring me. I push away gasping, my

face gone bloodred. I can't look at anyone, especially not Felicity and Ann. What must

they think of me now? What would they think if they knew how much I'd enjoyed it?

What kind of girl am I to enjoy a kiss I've seized so boldly, without waiting to have it

asked for and taken from me, the way I should?

A burly man in back booms out laughing. "I see she is yours after all!"

"Yes," Kartik croaks. "I'll take them to Mother Elena to have their fortunes told. Get back

to drinking. It's their money we need, not their trouble."

Kartik escorts us to Mother Elena's tent. Along the way, Felicity glances back, taking in

the sight of Kartik beside me. Her eyes dart from me to him and back again. I make my

face a stone, and finally, she turns away. Kartik opens the flap for Felicity and Ann but

pulls me sharply aside. "Just what do you think you're doing here?"

"Having my fortune told," I say. It's a stupid thing to say but my lips are still warm from

his kiss and I'm too embarrassed to come up with something clever. "I apologize for my

conduct," I barely manage to say. "It was necessary under the circumstances. I hope you

won't think me too forward."

He grabs an acorn from the ground, tosses it into the air and whacks at it with the cricket

bat. The bat is so old and split it's largely ineffectual. His mouth is set in a tight line. "I'll

never hear the end of it from them later."

The tingling in my stomach goes cold. "Sorry to have put you out on my behalf," I say.

He says nothing, and I'm so humiliated I wish I could disappear on the spot.

"Where's the other one of your little foursome? Hiding in the woods?"

It takes me a second to realize he means Pippa. I remember the way he looked at her in

the woods. He obviously hasn't stopped thinking of her. It's the first real kindness he's

shown, and it's surprising how much it stings.

"She's ill," I say, irritably.

"Nothing serious, I hope."

I don't know why I feel so wounded by Kartik's obvious infatuation with Pippa. There's

no romance between us. There's nothing that tethers us but this dark secret neither of us

wants. It's not Kartik's longing that hurts. It's my own. It's knowing that I'll never have

what she has—a beauty so powerful it brings things to you. I fear I will always have to

chase the things I want. I'll always have to wonder whether I'm truly wanted or whether

I've just been settled for.

"Nothing serious," I say, swallowing hard. "May I go in now?" I move to lift the flap but

his hand grips my wrist.

"Do not do this again," he warns, pushing me inside the tent while he walks off toward

the forest to become the night's eyes, always watching me.