by Dana Davis
“You haven’t learned to put yourself to sleep, yet.” Haranda gave her a slight smile. “Come here and lie down.”
“You put something in the tea.”
“Yes. To make you sleep. Now lie down before you fall down, youngling.” That wasn’t a request.
Adelsik drifted off even as she felt the two women lower her onto the bed. Soon, she stood on the beach where the calling had taken her. Waves crashed upon the rock pier and birds called out over the water. The sun was warm and inviting. She glanced behind her to the cave she where had lived several days with Haranda and the ruins that dotted the cliffs above.
Her mind churned and she remembered the tea. Haranda had put her to sleep. With that realization, the colors around her suddenly brightened. She now slumbered. She still had so little control, despite Haranda’s praise of how fast she learned. Two women appeared a few paces from her. Her clan mother and the Gypsy advisor.
“How did you get here so fast, Mother Haranda?”
“You’ll discover that soon enough, youngling. Right now, you must learn how to see our footprints so you can find us in the Netherworld. Then you can call us to you whenever the need arises.”
“Is that how you find me? My otherself, I mean?”
“Yes. Every Gypsy has an Energy footprint. Each is distinct and remains constant throughout a Gypsy’s lifetime. Eventually, you’ll be able to see all Gypsy’s prints in the Netherworld, search us out in our dreams, the way I did with you. When our dreamer seeks you out again, you’ll know how to see her footprint if she’s a Gypsy. If she’s one of the servants then that will prove a little more difficult for you. They have Netherworld prints because of the oaths they take, but since they can’t harness the Energy, the print is much harder to see.
“You’re skilled enough now that you should be able to perceive mine and Wren’s, and we can spot anyone’s. Once you learn to make out Netherworld prints, you’ll always see them. No one is able to hide a footprint here, not even another Gypsy. Now, concentrate on my otherself and watch what happens around my body.”
Adelsik studied Haranda, but all she saw was the glowing white image that the woman could hide in the Netherworld. She let her eyes go unfocused for a heartbeat and a blaze of colors emanated from her clan mother. All around the Gypsy’s otherself, colors flickered and pulsed like those Adelsik remembered in the tunnel to the Means.
“I see the colors of the Goddess Light, Mother Haranda. Is that your footprint?”
“No. You see the Energy colors because I’m a Gypsy, but you must look beyond the colors. Concentrate and you’ll see my footprint.”
What kind of print? Tell me what to look for.”
“I can’t. You must see it on your own. That’s the only way we know you’re not dreaming it. We can’t influence you.”
Adelsik nodded and let her eyes wander to Haranda’s feet. Nothing. Maybe it had nothing to do with her real feet. She gazed up and down Haranda’s glowing otherself. She also saw the same colored aura around Wren but no Netherworld footprint there, either. Whatever a footprint was, she just didn’t see it. “I still don’t see anything but colors.”
“Patience, youngling.”
How many times had Haranda said that to her? She had lost count. Adelsik stood there, or rather her otherself did, patiently waiting for something, anything that would distinguish her clan mother to her in the Netherworld. After several heartbeats, she wasn’t certain she would see anything. Then it happened. At first, it was subtle, just a tiny spark of color, then the thing swirled and took the shape of a flower just above Haranda’s head.
“I see it! I see it! You’re a flower!” Delight filled her and she felt as giddy as a child. “A daisy.”
“Yes.” Haranda had an amused look on her face. “What color?”
“Yellow. A yellow daisy.”
“Good.”
“Now look for mine,” Wren said. She was usually vocal during Netherworld training but Adelsik had noticed the advisor allowed Haranda to handle certain situations, easy tasks that wouldn’t tire her. After all, slumbering wasn’t Haranda’s strongest Energy. Adelsik would one day surpass her clan mother here in the Netherworld and that excited her.
She concentrated on the white-haired Gypsy’s otherself and forced her eyes to see beyond the Goddess colors. After several heartbeats, an odd green plant appeared. It was stout and round and had spikes all over. Both women’s prints were bright and steady, yet transparent. Adelsik’s heart raced at her success.
“You’re a spiked plant, Mother Wren. Green.”
“A barrel cactus to be precise, youngling.”
Haranda smiled. “And you are a blue acorn, Gypsy-child Adelsik.”
“I am? An acorn?” That was a disappointment. How common. “Are you certain I’m not a bird or a beautiful flower?”
“Ah, my impatient youngling, you are and have always been an acorn. The symbol of inexperience and mystery.”
Inexperience put her hackles up but she liked the mystery part. “How long have you been able to see me?”
“You came to me in one of your dreams soon after you got the calling.”
“I did? I don’t remember seeing you.”
“No. I didn’t allow you to.”
Was the woman spying on her in her dreams? She certainly didn’t like that.
“You must remember not to tell anyone what we do here, youngling.” Wren peered over that slightly hooked nose. She had somehow made it to Adelsik’s side and had a hand on her forehead. “Tell no one of the Netherworld footprints.”
“Yes, Mother Wren.” Adelsik had no problem keeping secrets. They made her feel important.
“Very good, youngling.”
The women began to lose their shapes a bit. “Things are getting fuzzy. I’m having trouble focusing.”
Haranda gave her a warm smile. “The tea is wearing off. We’ll see you in my cottage.” The two women disappeared.
The beach began to fade and soon Adelsik opened her eyes to see Haranda leaning over her.
“There you are, youngling,” Wren said as she stood next to the bed. “I’ll get us some food.” She left.
“I get to eat with you, Mother Haranda?”
“Yes.” The woman held up a purple stone.
“But where are the others?” There were several others in Adelsik’s class and they were always taught outside, even when the teachers combined classes to test their skills with other younglings. Since rains only came after sunset in the Land of the Goddess, there was no need to be indoors.
“Today is an individual day. You are mine.”
“For the entire day?” Why did that make her giddy?
Haranda nodded. “That pleases you?”
“Yes. I’m not certain why. I didn’t mean that the way it sounded, Mother Haranda. I’m always pleased to see you.” The woman had grown on her for some reason and she now thought of Haranda as a mother figure.
And Haranda was friends with the Vedi. Adelsik had overheard her talking to Wren about them one evening. Thankfully, neither woman found her out. And, of course, the Gypsy was from Adelsik’s own root village, which added to her connection. She rarely thought of her root mother anymore. And she no longer had anger or resentment about being taken. She actually had a desire to be with this woman now and seek out her approval. But why? She gave the woman a confused look.
Haranda smiled. “You’re supposed to have feelings for me. I’m your clan mother, remember?”
“Yes.” Then she had a sudden insight into these Gypsies. “You’re not just my clan mother in name, are you?”
“At first, that’s all it is. But there’s a bonding that takes place between Gypsies, especially between a clan parent and younglings.” She poured a cup of tea then sat on the bed and handed it to Adelsik. “Drink. This will clear your head.”
Adelsik took a sip and found it had a delightful peppermint taste that left her mouth refreshed. “This is good.”
“Thank you. My o
wn recipe.”
“What were you saying about a bonding, Mother Haranda?”
The woman looked pleased every time one of her younglings called her that and she smiled again. “Words have power whether we believe them or not. If we speak them enough, we give them even more potency.”
Adelsik took another sip of the refreshing tea as she thought about that. Words have power. Speaking words gives them power. She nearly dropped her cup at the realization. “You’ve become a mother to me. Not just in name. That’s why I want to be with you. Why I strive not to disappoint. That’s why younglings are forced to use the mother and father titles. Why you have individual days with each of us.”
Adelsik had another mother, her root mother, the one who birthed her. She remembered that woman but the feelings had changed. The Gypsy sitting next to her, this was the woman she cared for and longed to be with now.
“You’re not my root mother. But you’re my Mother Haranda.”
Confusion swelled again and her emotions became a jumble. Shouldn’t she love the woman who gave her life, who raised her from an infant? No, that woman abandoned her. She did love that woman in some distant lifetime, one that she could clearly see but only feel like a dream she couldn’t quite touch. Panic filled her for a heartbeat then Haranda caressed her face and everything was all right again.
“I’m your Mother Haranda, youngling. Gypsies are your family, your kin, the ones who matter to you now. You won’t forget your root family. They kept you safe until we could find you and bring you home. But you’re bound to us. You’re a Gypsy-child. Just as I was once.”
Adelsik nodded. She felt that connection. And not just to Haranda, but to all the Gypsies, and the servants. They were all her family, her kin, just as Haranda said. Though there were a few she would rather not be connected to. Saldia still got her hackles up, and Eletha and Kal weren’t much better. The newer woman, Cass, acted as bawdy as Saldia sometimes, and Adelsik still didn’t understand why the Goddess would call anyone not from a respectable upbringing. She couldn’t think about them now, those who were like the undesirable cousins no one talked about. That would ruin her mood.
Her thoughts turned back to the woman in front of her. The day Haranda came to her home, Adelsik’s root mother had given her away, thrown her out like an old dress that could no longer be mended. “This place feels like home. I can’t explain that.”
“You don’t have to, youngling. We all feel the same about the Land of the Goddess. That’s why we must protect each other and the Energy, shield this place from outsiders.”
“That’s enough for now, Haranda,” Wren said from the doorway. She motioned for a servant to put the tray of food on the table. “The rest can wait.”
“Yes, Wren.”
Adelsik wondered what other secrets they kept from her and determination settled in her gut like a warm stew on a cold night. She would find out. She always found out.
Chapter 26
“Again, boy?” Xiath quelled a frustrated groan.
These younglings were a tiresome lot but he had agreed to take them on again and found himself attached to them as much as they bonded to him. It had been many years, decades in fact, since he held classes and probably wouldn’t have agreed to be a clan father again if things weren’t so chaotic and unknown right now. He drew on the Energy. Awareness spread through him and added some calm, and he wanted to smile despite the reason for this confrontation.
He studied the boy standing in front of him. This one, Nym Fargoodes, had grown so fast that he lacked the experience of other younglings. Xiath had seen Nym when he first came through into the Land of the Goddess, a skinny child, and watched as he grew rapidly and painfully into a man’s body. Those large, innocent eyes, gazed up at Xiath now. Nym still resembled a boy in many respects, except when visions took him. On those occasions, he had the look of an old, wise man. Overall, he was a good boy, but his tendency to keep certain visions from his teachers always landed him in trouble.
Today was no exception and Xiath took in a long, steady breath as he stood beneath the tree, knowing that he had no choice. He must punish Nym. The boy was smart but could be very stubborn. Of course, Xiath could say that about every youngling. His own early days were filled with mischief and punishments and he nearly grinned at the memory.
Haranda had informed all of them about Nym’s childhood and his abusive root father, so Xiath took special caution when punishing the boy, careful not frighten him the way his root father had. Xiath usually gave him chores. For this repeated transgression, something lengthy to allow him adequate reflection should do nicely.
“That’s the second time in three days,” he said in a low voice. “I warned you about keeping those visions to yourself. Now come with me, youngling.” Xiath started toward his cottage. Nym followed quietly. Once inside, Xiath closed his door. “Tell me what you saw in your vision yesterday.” He pointed to a chair.
Nym stared at it like a small, disobedient boy then sat. “I saw Cass and Adelsik fighting, Father Xiath.”
“I see. And why didn’t you tell me this?”
“I growed—grew up with Adelsik. She was very nice to me when I was a lad. That the truth. I don’t want to see her in trouble.”
The boy hadn’t grown up with the girl the way normal children do, but in his mind, she had been like a sister.
“The vision hasn’t happened, yet, Nym.”
“Yes, that true. But they always do. Eventually.”
“Can you tell when this fight will take place?”
“No, Father Xiath. But they were here in the Land of the Goddess. And they wore nightdresses.”
“Anything else.”
“No, Father Xiath. That it.”
He felt for this lad. Coming to the Land of the Goddess a small boy and finding himself a man once he entered. He couldn’t imagine the confusion in Nym’s head. Haranda had done well with him, though. As she had with the other boy she’d brought, Thad. That one looked much older than his true age, and Xiath kept a close watch on both of these new clan sons.
“All right, youngling. For your punishment you’ll have laundry duty the next five sunrises.” Nym grimaced, and Xiath kept a smile from his face. The boy still hated the water when it came to washing anything, especially himself. In fact, many of the boys who came here had an aversion to bathing. But the Goddess didn’t approve of dirty servants so everyone used the bathhouses daily. “Do you understand?” The boy nodded. “Good. And if I hear that you’re late or don’t show up at the lake for any reason other than a true injury, I’ll assign a servant to see that you complete twice as many sunrises washing clothes. Is that clear?”
“Yes, Father Xiath.” The boy sound so dejected.
“Good. You’ll tell me any visions you have, when you have them. And if I’m not around, you’ll tell one of the other Gypsies. Is that understood?”
“Yes, Father Xiath. That understood.”
“I mean this, Nym. I’m weary of bringing you to my cottage for these sessions.”
“My apologies, Father Xiath. I just didn’t want Adelsik to get punished.”
This boy was refreshing sometimes. He seemed simple but that would change. It took moons before the mind and body worked as one when a youngling grew so quickly. This one was bright and observant. He just needed a while longer. Xiath hid a smile.
“That’s very thoughtful of you, youngling. But if the girls decide to fight, their clan mother will handle the situation.” Nym nodded but held his eyes on the floor. “Youngling. Look at me, son.” Large brown eyes gazed up, like a calf to its mother. The man’s body couldn’t hide the little boy in those eyes. “There’s a very good reason why we have rules. Until you become new-oathed and are trained enough in the Energy, you and other younglings can endanger yourselves or one of your kin.”
The boy seemed to think hard for several heartbeats. “Then you’re not interested in my visions because you’re a meddler. You’re trying to keep younglings safe. That the
reason?”
“That’s exactly the reason. You’re too young and inexperienced with the Energy to know whether your visions are harmless or not. Even a seasoned Gypsy can’t always tell. I don’t want anything to happen to you, Nym. You must know that by now.”
The boy straightened and jutted out his chin, and Xiath realized he would have to teach this one how to shave. Soon. Younglings weren’t allowed facial hair, something that grated on many of them. Just one more rule to remind them of their humble status among the kin.
“That fair,” Nym said with renewed enthusiasm. “I’ll gladly tell my visions, Fada—Father Xiath. I don’t wish to harm my kin.”
“I’m very pleased to hear that, youngling.”
Nym’s village pronunciation still came out now and again, especially when he was excited about something, but at least he had grown up speaking the common trade language. Younglings weren’t allowed to use their root languages, if they differed from the trade language the kin spoke, but no one punished younglings for using root idioms, as long as they didn’t use them to keep secrets. The trade language was spoken in most villages now, the exact reason the kin had chosen it as their own. Made communication less of a problem when whisking younglings away from root homes. The world seemed ever smaller than it had in Xiath’s youth. Of course, many oathed Gypsies spoke their root languages in private if they so desired, and something that could be an advantage among middlings, but younglings were not allowed that luxury.
“I can come here whenever I get a vision, Father Xiath?” Nym’s large eyes widened. “Even in the middle of the night?”
“Yes. What’s a little sleep loss compared to the well-being of kin?” He smiled at his youngest clan son.
“I see that now, Father Xiath. Thank you.” Nym chewed his bottom lip briefly. “I’m hungry. Can I go back to midday meal?”
“Of course.” Xiath waited until the boy left before he fell into his chair, laughing.
After making the note in his discipline book about the boy’s disobedience and punishment, and writing a note for the laundry mistress, he decided to find Haranda. The Land of the Goddess gave them a cool but gorgeous day, as usual, and he took in a deep breath as he stepped from his cottage. The ground was still moist from the light steady rains that fell last night and the air smelled of greenery. Refreshing. Especially in bare feet, which he enjoyed as much as when he was a boy.
