by J. B. North
“There you are!” he said. “I was beginning to think that I'd have to go to the village by myself.”
“You could have gone with January or Grix,” I said, walking past him.
He shook his head. “They left before the survival tests. Being born in a family with money has its perks. They probably ate breakfast at The Sticky Wicket.”
I smiled. “The Sticky Wicket?”
“The students love to go there for their cinnamon rolls. They have the best.”
“Well, I can't go,” I said. “I don't have any money.”
He pulled out a small jingling bag. That's okay. I have plenty.”
“Were you born into money, too?” I asked.
He chuckled. “No. Far from it. I just receive a small salary as a trainer.”
Because he was barely three years older than me, I kept on thinking of him as a fellow student.
We followed the pathway that the other people had trampled down. The road had been washed away with all the water and mud. It would need to be repaved.
Roland and I walked silently. I looked up at the sky to watch as a few birds flew by, singing songs of cheerfulness. The sound made my heart lift. Birdsong was always part of the summer solstice. In my hometown, the villagers would often join in with songs of their own.
Once Winter's Peak came into view, Roland started to lead the way. We walked by cottages and various storefronts until we reached a sign that read The Sticky Wicket. Wagon wheels made up most of the sign. They were painted green and red, but the paint was old and most of it was peeled off. Vines grew along the stone walls, and two window boxes overflowed with morning glories under the large, grid-like windows.
The bell above the door jingled merrily as a group of students came out, laughing and talking. Roland opened the door for me, and let me go in first. The place was slightly crowded, although that was expected from how popular Roland had said it was. It seemed a lot bigger on the inside than what it showed from the outside. Booths were placed along the stone walls and the sun shone through the windows, making the space feel bright and cheerful.
Roland and I found an empty booth to slide in. The backs of the booths rose above our heads, creating a sense of privacy. I could already see why this place was so popular.
A frazzled looking woman walked up and took our orders—two cinnamon rolls, a black coffee and an apple cider. After she sidled away, Roland looked out the window for a few minutes. He seemed kind of distant, unlike his usually cheerful disposition.
“Is something wrong?” I asked.
He looked at me, as if surprised that I had asked the question. “Not entirely,” he said after a while. “I recently received news that my sister had her baby. I was just wishing that I could visit them. It's my mother and father's first grandchild.”
I smiled. Being an orphan with no other family, I imagined that it would be a very joyous occasion. I found myself wishing that I could've had a grandmother and a grandfather. Other kids in Forlander got to visit theirs, but I, as always, was alone. Perhaps Elna could be a grandmotherly figure, but I found her a little too spunky for that title. She was more like an aunt.
“That's great news,” I said. “I'm sure you'll get a chance to visit them.”
He raised his eyebrows. “Will I?” he asked. “The schedules are so tight here that I don't know if I'll have the time.
“Well, would she be able to visit here?” I questioned.
He shook his head. “I wouldn't wish a seven day journey on any woman with a newborn baby, but especially not my sister.”
“Oh,” I said, feeling stupid. “I guess I didn't think that idea through.”
“You weren't to know how far away they lived,” he said graciously.
The woman arrived with our steaming mugs and cinnamon rolls. The smell of them made my mouth water.
Roland completely ignored the fork that they'd brought and dove into his cinnamon roll with his fingers, so I copied what he did. We both ended up a sticky mess, but it was worth it. The cinnamon rolls were some of the best things that I'd ever put in my mouth. The apple cider and sweet cinnamon combination tasted delicious.
Once we were done, Roland paid the tab, and we went outside to wash the stickiness off our hands, taking turns pumping the water for each other.
“What next?” Roland asked me after we started away from the building.
“I don't know,” I answered. “Liana mentioned that she usually helped set up the festival.”
He nodded. “Sounds like a plan. They should be starting the preparations right about now.”
He led the way, further into the town. At the end of the long line of buildings, a large clearing with lush dark green grass stretched out in front of us. Several lamp posts surrounded the area, and stands were already being set up by some of the villagers. At the end of the clearing, there was a covered wooden platform made out of birch. Roland pointed to it. “That's where the musicians play,” he said. “I think that they're gypsies, but they play such good music that the headmaster won't turn them in.”
“Why would he turn them in?” I asked.
He gave me a funny look. “Don't you know that gypsies are outlaws? For hundreds of years, the law has been to turn them in when you see them.”
“Oh?” I looked back to the platform. “Why is that?”
He shrugged. “I really couldn't tell you. It might be because they have a reputation for being thieves.”
I glanced around. “So what should we help with?” I asked.
“Last year I helped hang the lanterns,” he said. “Maybe we could do the same thing this year.” He led me across the clearing, and behind the platform, where a group of people had already gathered. They stood by while a middle-aged man turned a key in the lock of a short door that must've led into a storage area. As soon as the door was open, he began to take out many dusty lanterns one by one.
A pile of rags was laid nearby, so like the others, Roland and I grabbed one and started to wipe off the dust and cobwebs, making the lanterns look good as new.
“How often are these lanterns used?” I asked, studying the filthy cloth.
“By the looks of it, I'd guess only on the summer solstice,” he answered.
I'd thought that we were done after the first few we did, but the middle-aged man kept going back in for more lanterns until their number was at least a hundred.
“What are we going to do with them all?”
“I suppose you'll find out when it's time,” Roland replied.
Finally, when all the rags were black with grime and the last lantern was polished, the man led us into the forest, where the green canopy above blotted out the sun, and the leafless ground was covered in blankets of moss. I watched as he hung the lantern on a low hanging branch, and another on a higher branch of a different tree before going back the way we'd come to retrieve two more.
“If you're wondering why we're putting them in the forest, you'll find out tonight,” Roland whispered.
I was glad he'd spared me from asking yet another question. Being so clueless about everything was making me feel like a child.
Once all the lanterns were hung, it was about mid-day. We still had hours to kill before the festival began.
Roland and I walked out from behind the platform, and I was surprised by how much had been done since we had first started on the lanterns.
The few stands that we'd seen around the clearing had doubled in number, and many tents had been set up. In the center of the clearing, an awning was being stretched between four poles, casting a long rectangular shadow across most of the shorn grass.
“What's the awning for?” I wondered aloud.
Roland kept watching the men that were stringing it up. “Dancing. They put it there, so that the stands don't take more than their fair share of room.”
“Are there really going to be that many?” I asked. The number was surprising already for this small town.
He looked over and smiled. “Of co
urse. Many people traveled to get here today.”
As we walked, an old woman called out to us. “You two! Do you have some extra time on your hands?”
“Sure,” Roland said as he walked up to her. “Do you need our help with something?”
I approached behind him. The woman had a table full of different kinds of flowers, filling the air with a wonderful fragrance.
“I'm sorry to bother you, but our time is running short, and we still need to make enough wreaths for all the women and girls.” She said all this as she weaved the stems of a few flowers together.
I watched her for a moment longer to see how she was doing it, and then I tried to copy her. Surprisingly, I got the hang of it, although it took me a lot longer to finish.
Roland had a harder time with it, probably because his hands were a lot bigger. It was an hour or two before the last flower was woven into the last wreath.
The woman thanked us for our help, and gave me a wreath to put on my head. I took it, but seeing as there was no other woman with a wreath on her head, I decided to just hold it.
Roland and I wandered through the town until I saw Natalia walking around with Liana, who looked as healthy and cheerful as she usually did. I left Roland's side and walked up to them, surprised to see Liana looking so well after her condition this morning.
Liana smiled. “Hello! I was hoping I would be able to find you here!”
I returned the smile and said, “You look like you feel a lot better. Has the sickness already passed?”
She nodded. “Although I'm not sure how, I'm very glad it did. I was so disappointed that I was going to have to miss the festivities.”
“Well, I'm glad you don't have to anymore,” I said.
Liana looked behind me, at Roland. “Have you two had a good time?” she asked.
Roland looked at me with a smile. “Couldn't have been better.”
Natalia raised her eyebrows. “So what did you do?”
This time, I answered. “Mostly, we've been helping set up things for the festival, but we also went to the Sticky Wicket for their cinnamon rolls.”
“You're lucky,” Liana said. “When we got there, they were all out.” Then, she took a hold of my elbow and began to guide me away from Roland. “Let's do something fun, shall we?” she asked.
I looked back at Roland, who had shifted his attention away from me, and was now conversing with Natalia. An uncomfortable emotion stabbed at my heart, one that I'd never felt before. I pushed it away from my consciousness, and looked back at Liana.
“Sure,” I answered.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
Liana and I spent the rest of the day helping with various tasks and watching the traveling wagons roll in. The people inside looked different from anyone I'd ever seen. Their clothes were patchy, sown up with many colorful fabrics. Heavy jewelry adorned each of them, beaded necklaces and bracelets, multiple earrings, and rings with large gemstones. Even the men had on jewelry, although it was more masculine than what the women wore. Most of them had dark hair and dark skin, but there were a few mixed in that had blond or brown or red hair. One that stood out to me was a woman that must have been in her mid-thirties. Her hair was a different color red than mine. While mine was a darker color, hers was almost as orange as a carrot. It was braided messily down her back, as if the hair was so silken that it didn't want to stay in place. Even from where I was standing, I could still see the pronounced freckles on her face and arms.
When she saw me looking at her, she smiled at me. I smiled back before looking away. “Are these the gypsies?” I asked Liana quietly.
She nodded. “Yes.”
“Roland told me that they were supposed to be arrested on sight. Why are they allowed to be free now?”
“Their music is better than anyone else's,” she answered. “And they know how to have fun.”
“They aren't a threat?” I asked.
She shook her head. “They seem pretty harmless...but keep your change purse hidden.”
I watched as many of them jumped up onto the stage with their instruments, the red-haired woman among them.
Liana looked up at the darkening sky. “It's probably about six o'clock,” she said. “The festival should start soon.”
As if on queue, the gypsies on the stage started tuning their instruments, creating an otherworldly sound to ring through the clearing, silencing everyone's voice. It continued for a few moments before they all stopped simultaneously.
The crowd gathered in around them, and Liana and I were pushed forward with them. Then, they started playing. First it was just the red-haired woman. She played a slow, haunting melody on her violin, her face somber. The song started at a low pitch, but gradually got higher as it went on. It sounded so mournfully beautiful that I wished I knew what it was about. Then, all of a sudden, she stopped, and her face widened into a grin before all the instruments joined in together for a fast-paced, jovial tune.
The crowd cheered. I was surprised when someone turned me around, a wide smile spread across their face. I recognized the person as one of the gypsy men. He slipped the wreath out of my hands and placed it on my head before dragging me off under the awning for a dance.
“I really don't know how--” I started.
“Don't worry,” he said with a smile. “I'll lead you.”
My heart pounded inside my chest as we began to dance. At first, I was self-conscious of how I looked, but as I glanced around, I saw that some of the other girls had been stolen off by gypsy men, too. Even the old woman who had made our wreaths found herself dancing with a handsome young man. I knew I just needed to loosen up and have fun.
A small smile began to spread across my face, and soon, the other dancers were just a blur as the gypsy man and I spun around in circles. I was surprised when the song ended, and I was quickly switched to another gypsy as the next song began, this tune with even more energy than the last. I danced for three more songs before I needed a rest. Another man tried to take my hand, but I had to smile politely and decline. I spotted Liana among the crowd of people, and hurried over to her before someone else tried to dance with me.
She smiled when I appeared next to her. “I didn't know you were such a good dancer,” she shouted over the noise.
“I didn't either,” I said with a breathless laugh.
We had a festival in my hometown every year, but there wasn't very much dancing, and the gypsies were never there. The orphan girls were only permitted to go for one hour, usually before the dancing even started.
A man came up and took Liana by the hand, dragging her into a dance. She smiled back at me and waved before joining the other twirling couples.
I enjoyed being able to watch the dancers. I found Natalia among them, her usually serious expression nonexistent as she was spun around. I nearly laughed out loud when I spotted January getting pulled away from the crowd for a dance. She stumbled a little, but then, most likely with magic, her movements became graceful. She noticed me watching her, and smirked.
I averted my eyes, the smile retreating from my features.
“May I have the next dance?” said someone behind me.
I glanced behind me to see Niko.
I narrowed my eyes at him before focusing back on the dancers again. “I'm not much of a dancer,” I said.
“Nonsense,” he cooed in my ear. “I watched you dancing with the travelers.”
I blushed and distanced myself from him. “Well, I'm afraid that I'm worn out from earlier. You'll have to find someone else to dance with.”
The song ended abruptly and another one began. Niko jerked me into a dance, and to my dismay, it was a slower one. I glared up at him, but all he did was watch me with his cold blue eyes as he led me through the steps. Every part of me that touched him felt colder somehow.
“You've been exceeding the others in your obstacle training,” he said as he twirled me around.
“Perhaps, but that's only because we never do anything else.”
> “With past students, I've found that obstacle training enhances their reflexes. You are probably no different from them.”
I didn't reply. Niko kept watching me, making me feel uncomfortable. I tried not to look at him, and prayed that the song would end. Unfortunately, it seemed to last forever.
When the musicians finally drew out the last note, Niko dropped my hands and left me in the center of the dancers. I walked the other direction, glad to be rid of him.
I was surprised when Kurt appeared in front of me. I hadn't seen him since the incident with Roselle. He took advantage of the next song, and led me smoothly into a dance. This one was a little more fast paced, but still slower than the first songs.
“What was that about?” he inquired, his gaze following Niko.
“I have no idea,” I answered truthfully.
“It would be best if you stayed away from him,” he said, looking back at me.
“Why do you say that?” I asked. “Do you not trust your own brother?”
He narrowed his eyes at me. “Who told you about that?” he asked, his voice harsh.
“You did. I overheard you in the headmaster's office.”
His face became shadowy, and he gave a sharp nod. “I would appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone else.”
I nodded and thought back in my memory, trying to think if I already had. Kurt led me in one last spin before ending our dance in the middle of the song, and disappearing into the crowd.
I tried following him, but I lost him in the endless throng. Instead, I was in the middle of a crowd of people that I didn't know. I began to feel claustrophobic, and I kept pushing through them, trying to get to the end. Finally, after walking past many stands, I escaped the mob and reached the dark woods. A few couples were taking advantage of the cleared space, and were dancing together, even though the music was quieter here. I didn't want to disturb them, so I kept walking.
“What are you doing all the way out here, Ivy?”
I flipped around to see Roland. “Oh, um...I was just needing some quiet,” I said.
