Chapter 16

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Nonosabasut seemed bewildered by their request.

"You wish to look like our people? But why?"

"Just a couple of cloaks will do, if you can spare them," said Maeve. "To fool people at a distance. We know we couldn't fool anyone up close. If they got that close to us," she added grimly, "it would all be over, anyway."

"You are trying to escape?" the young Beothuk asked. 

"No, no," said Thomas. "Maeve has a plan. We are trying to get to the isle that lies beyond Bird Island. There is something there that may help us all. A magical object."

"But not a word to anyone," said Maeve hastily. "It must all be done as quickly and quietly as possible. Will you help us, Nonosabasut?"

"I think this plan is not a good one," said Nonosabasut, looking disturbed. "But," he added, "I will help you. For I think that I would do the same thing in your place."

Maeve suddenly noticed the short sword hanging in ascabbard at Thomas's side. She did not ask him where it had come from.

The poncho-like caribou cloaks were very heavy—Maeve had not realized how much real animal hide weighed—and the one she was given hung nearly to her ankles, hampering her movements. Thomas's fit him better, neatly draping his tall, lean frame; it might have been made for him. At least their clothes were well-covered, Maeve noted. She had chosen the jeans and cardigan again, for their warmth.

"Where are you going?" demanded a small voice. Thomas jumped and swore. His little sister was standing behind them in the corridor.

"What are you doing here, Brat?"

"I've a right to go anywhere, same as you," retorted Cordelia. "Why are you wearing Beothuk clothes? Is it a game? Will you let me play too?"

"Yes," said Maeve before Thomas could speak. She bent and whispered in Cordelia's ear. "It's a game. We're going to see if we can fool some people into thinking we're Beothuks."

"But why?"

"Shhh, Cordelia, not so loud! Listen, I can't tell you everything—it's a secret. You mustn't tell anyone what we're doing—not your mother, not your father, not anyone. Do you understand? That way, you'll be part of our plan. Just say we're in another part of the castle, if anyone asks. That will help us, because no one will look for us."

"That's lying." The blue eyes were serious.

"No, no, Cordelia. It's acting. We want you to be an actress, do you see? To pretend for us, so no one will try to find us or guess where we've gone."

"All right," said Cordelia at last. "But I'd rather play Beothuks too."

"We haven't any clothes that fit you." Maeve was relieved to have a practical argument to offer. "Now run along, Cordelia, please! And remember, don't tell anyone—at least for today."

After today, nothing may matter, she thought as she watched the little girl walk away reluctantly.

Mammadroust's red ochre, applied in thick layers, easily masked the fairness of their skin. "Do you suppose she knew?" Maeve asked suddenly.

"Cordelia?"

"Mammadroust. Did she know about this in advance? Is that why she gave me the ochre?"

Thomas shrugged. "Perhaps. She has the sight too, hasn't she?"

His rather long dark hair looked just like a Beothuk's, she thought; her own brown locks were a bit too light in colour, but perhaps that would not be so noticeable from a distance. She still felt as though they were putting on costumes for a play, and she knew with a stirring of unease that she was not yet frightened enough. Thomas, by contrast, seemed to have come to life with the promise of action. He kept gazing at Nonosabasut as the Beothuks quietly discussed their plans in their native tongue, and she knew that he was envying the other boy's calm assurance, his easy assumption of the mantle of adulthood.

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