“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.
CHAPTER NINETEEN
“THERE YOU ARE,” FELICITY CALLS TO ME FROM A SMALL table where she and Ann are sitting with the old Gypsy. “Mother Elena was just telling us the most interesting story about Ann becoming a great beauty.”
“She told me I’m going to have many admirers,” Ann interrupts, excited.
Mother Elena crooks a finger. “Come closer, child. Mother Elena will tell you your fortune.”
I make my way through a tent strewn with piles of books, colorful scarves, and bottles of herbs and tinctures of all kinds. A lantern hangs from a hook behind the old woman. The light is harsh and I can see how creased and brown her face is. Her ears are pierced, and she wears rings on every finger. She offers me a small basket with a few shillings in the bottom.
Felicity clears her throat, whispers. “Give her a few pence.”
“But then I’ll have nothing till my family’s visit on Assembly Day,” I whisper back.
“Give. Her. The pence,” she says through smiling teeth.
With a heavy sigh, I drop my last few coppers into the basket. Mother Elena shakes it. Satisfied with their jingling sound, she empties the basket into her coin purse.
“Now, what will it be? The cards? The palm?”
“Mother Elena, I think our friend would be very interested in the story you were telling us—about the two girls from Spence?”
“Yes, yes, yes. But not with Carolina in the room. Carolina, fetch some water now.” There’s no one else in the room. I’m starting to feel uneasy. Mother Elena’s hands pat her cards. She tilts her head as if she’s listening to something she has forgotten—a bit of song or a voice from the past. And when she looks up at me, it’s as if we’re old friends reunited.
“Ah, Mary, what a nice surpise. What is it Mother Elena can do for you today? I’ve got lovely honey cakes, sweet as can be. Come now.”
Her hands place imaginary cakes on an imaginary tray. We all exchange curious looks. Is it an act, or is the poor old thing really as mad as a hatter? She offers the pretend tray to me.
“Mary, dear, don’t be shy. Have a sweet. You’re wearing your hair differently. It suits you.”
Felicity nods, urges me to play along.
“Thank you, Mother.”
“Now, where is our lively Sarah today?”
“Our Sarah?” I falter.
Felicity jumps in. “She’s off practicing the magic you taught her.”
Mother frowns. “That I taught? Mother doesn’t dabble in such things. Only the herbs and the charms for love and protection. You mean them.”
“Them?” I repeat.
Mother whispers. “The women who come to the woods. Teaching you their craft. The Order. No good can come of it, Mary, you mark my words.”
We’re building a house of cards. One wrong question can send the whole tower tumbling before we reach the top.
“How do you know what sorts of things they teach us?” I ask.
The old woman taps the side of her head with a gnarled finger. “Mother knows. Mother sees. They see the future and the past. They shape it.” She leans toward me. “They see the spirit world.”
The whole room spins out of focus and comes back. Though the night is cold, sweat trickles down my neck, dampening my collar. “Do you mean the realms?”
Mother nods.