Chapter Seven
The world was black, muffled, and loud. Banging sounded all around me, and it took me a long moment to understand that I was riding inside a wagon, bumping over rocks and the roots of trees. Something dark covered my head and rope tied my wrists. I cringed at every jerk of the wagon, feeling the aching within my bones. I didn’t remember anything past the ambush. When the bandits attacked me, they must have hit me unconscious.
Murmured voices came to my ears, though I could only catch snippets of, “What do you think he wants her for?” “…don’t know.” “…see future…” “…dangerous.”
I shrank back at the last word. Did these people think I was dangerous? But if they did, they wouldn’t have put me in the back of a wagon that smelled of mud and horse sweat. Maybe that was what they did with every teenage girl they came across.
I just hoped they killed me before I puked from this horrid smell.
Suddenly, everything stopped, and I slid forward, banging my head against the front board of the wagon. Pain shot through my skull as a myriad of people started talking. There was an abrupt thunk on the wagon. Then, someone grabbed me around the waist and hoisted me on their shoulder.
I played dead because that was what they did in the books I read.
I was dealing with bears. Ferocious bears that wouldn’t touch you if you were already dead. If these were slave traders, there was no worth in me dead. They would discard my body and I would be free.
I would have to tell Titus of my amazing strategy skills when I returned.
All of this was figured out beneath the darkness of the sack over my head.
But when my captors removed the covering, it became an entirely different story. A story in which the breath was taken from my lungs when I looked at the people in front of me.
They were gypsies.
“She’s awake!” a nearby child cried, clinging to the cotton dress of his dark-haired mother. There were at least twenty gypsies staring at me with wide, frightened eyes. Most of them had black hair and bronze skin that accented their equally dark eyes. The women wore thick jewelry and sequined sashes of bright colors covering their shoulders. The men, on the other hand, wore trousers, tunics, and had knives strapped to their waists. Their looks reminded me of deer that were always on the lookout for hunters.
I sat in a grass clearing surrounded by forest. There were multiple tents erected between trees, and I spied a cart with pots and pans situated in the corner of the camp. Donkeys, horses, and a miscellaneous array of barking dogs dotted the land. I stared at the gypsies, and they stared just as long. The child who exclaimed before pointed giddily at me. “Is she the one he wants? Is that why—”
His mother shushed him before he could finish. My breathing was starting to grow quick. “Who are you people?” No one replied, and the boy hid behind his mother. What did they mean? Who wanted me? Were they going to kill me?
“Do not antagonize her, Barel.”
The rich voice came from one of the tents, and I turned to see a tall man with dark hair exit the tent. He wore a blue silk tunic accented with gold, and he had beige trousers that tucked into dark leather boots. He walked with a noble posture, as if everyone were beneath him.
I had seen it many times before. Either this man was a noble of some sort, or he was just downright snotty.
I studied his face when he stopped in front of me. His long dark eyelashes framed brown eyes flecked with green. The man looked like most everyone here, and I tried to figure out where they came from, but I couldn’t place it. Their accents were foreign—definitely not Norian or Arian. Maybe they were from Balua or one of the western kingdoms?
He scrutinized me as if I were a subject under interrogation. “What is your name?” His question was wary, as if I were a poisonous creature he had to be careful around.
“Why should I tell that to the person who kidnapped me?” I asked pointedly.
He closed his eyes and nodded slowly. “I foresaw this happening.” The man turned to the nearest gypsy and signaled to him. “Keep her locked up in the secondary camp. Give her food and water, but do not let her out.”
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They put me in an empty tent with bright green grass and a tree root sticking out from beneath the white fabric of the walls. Thankfully, the men guiding me to the enclosure were kind enough to undo my bindings, but they didn’t give me the leisure of moving around too much. They always nagged me if I studied a corner for too long.
I thought about Clarice’s training and thought it would have been a blessing if I had put more effort into her mindless dummy-disposing drills.
I sat on the grass and drew my knees to my chest. Where were Titus and the others? If they didn’t find out I had been kidnapped, would they think I was dead? I imagined the sheer panic on Clarice’s face, the fear in Mayra’s eyes, and Titus’s expression of disbelieving horror.
I shut my eyes tight and tuned out the din of the gypsy camp. I tried to think about Titus, but all I could focus on was the way he yelled at me right before the ambush. What if his sylph side was going rampant within him? Didn’t that only happen when he was angry? Was he angry with me?
A sudden “Hey!” jerked me out of my thoughts.
I looked up to see the boy from earlier, Barel, holding a tray of food. He glanced at the two men guarding the tent outside, then sat down in front of me before sliding the tray in my direction. “Dinner.”
“It’s that late already?” I asked, frowning at the setting sun outside. Would I stay all night with these people?
Barel didn’t respond. Instead, he persisted to interrogate me with mindless questions. “So what’s your name?”
Inside, I smirked to myself. If this little brat wasn’t going to answer my question, then I wasn’t going to answer his. Besides, the man who wanted me probably sent this kid to extract information.
When I didn’t answer, the boy continued, undeterred, “Where are you from? Why do you have such light hair? Why do you sound the way you do? I’ve never heard someone speak like you before.”
I cringed beneath his relentless barrage of questions. “Stop it already, would you?” I snapped. His wide eyes shone with curiosity, and I cringed again when his face fell. Who was I to have sentiment for children I didn’t even know? “I don’t know why I’m here, so why are you asking me questions?” I stopped as an idea came to me. “Hey,” I said, “if you answer my questions, I might answer some of yours. Deal?”
Barel glanced warily at the entrance. The guards were preoccupied with their own conversation. “Okay!” He smiled. “What is your name?”
I squeezed my hands nervously, already regretting what I was about to do. “Lan,” I told him, cringing at my father’s blasted nickname. “Now, who was that man from earlier? Why does he want me?”
“Oh, that’s our leader, Master Hadrian.” Barel shrugged. “But I don’t know why he wants you. Why don’t you ask him? He always has his reasons,” he added. “Master Hadrian never does anything stupid.”
Hadrian? Was that a Baluan name? I had never heard of it before, and I doubted it was Baluan. He must have been somewhere far west of Nor.
“Where are you from?” Barel prompted. “Is it nice where you are from? Is it peaceful?”
I narrowed my eyes. “Aria,” I replied. There wasn’t any harm in telling him that. “It is nice. It’s more…settled than here in Nor. The cities are developed and we don’t have many towns along the port like Atroph. And yes,” I added. “It’s peaceful. For now, at least.” I studied him, but the boy looked innocent. Was he asking that because Nor was in turmoil now? I paused, calculating my next question. “Who is Hadrian? Is he some sort of political leader for you? What do you people do?”
Barel laughed as his long dark hair swung in its ponytail. “Why do you ask such a funny question?” he asked, wiping a tear from his eye. “Master Hadrian is our caravan leader, of course. We are a trading caravan.”
“Are you gypsies?”
The boy’s eyes gleamed. “You are the first to guess correctly. Normally, people will call the ‘Wanderers’ gypsies just because they dance.” He glanced at the ground. “Master Hadrian doesn’t like those gypsies, though. They dance and sing and entertain people with strange techniques. Master thinks they hypnotize their audience. He doesn’t understand how people can be so impressed with a dancing woman.”
“Then—”
“But I actually like them,” the boy interrupted before I could steer him to my next question. “The best dancer in the Wanderers is so amazing. She’s like…” He paused, pursing his lips. “She’s like the sky! Infinite because she can do anything!” Barel giggled suddenly. “Ha! ‘Infinite’! I sounded smart like Master Hadrian.”
“So—”
But it didn’t matter. Nothing I said was going to stop him from blabbing.
“She goes by the name ‘The Dancer of the West,’” he continued. “You might like to travel with us and see if you can watch one of her dances. I can ask Master if he…”
As the boy rambled on, I was overwhelmed by his pure welcoming attitude. Did he expect me to stay? If so, did that mean I wasn’t going to be killed? Or maybe the boy knew nothing and—
“It’s my turn to ask a question, Miss Lan,” he said excitedly. “Do you have friends? Because I don’t have many friends. We are always traveling and the children here are either older than me or…well, babies.”
“I, uh, yes,” I stumbled. “I have friends.”
“Where are they?”
“They’re…” I sighed, thinking of how Titus yelled at me. “They were with me before I was taken.”
Barel was silent for a moment, but he immediately perked up. “Don’t worry! Master Hadrian always has a reason,” he repeated. “If anything, you’re here to help us.”
“Help you?” I asked. “With what?”
He scratched his head. “I don’t know. Master Hadrian will know, though.”
“Barel!” One of the guards entered the tent and drew the boy roughly up by the arm. “Don’t talk to the prisoner!”
Barel didn’t have a chance to reply as the gypsy dragged him out of the tent. The boy gave me an apologetic glance as the flap closed behind them.
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I didn’t realize I had fallen asleep on the grass until the first rays of sunlight peeked through the tent opening. I groaned, stretching my legs against the aches of my bones. I must have fallen off the horse the other day when the gypsies knocked me unconscious.
I combed a hand through my blonde hair, trying furiously to get the tangles out and failing miserably. I stopped trying when I remembered that I was a captive. Who cared if I looked like crap?
I was still warring with my hair—attempting to put it in a ponytail this time—when a man came in to fetch me. He directed me outside gently, but I could tell if I resisted, he wouldn’t put up with it.
All the gypsies were packing up their supplies. They were rolling blankets, taking down tents, and storing kitchen supplies in the backs of their wagons. Mules loaded with food crates on their backs brayed noisily.
The guard guided me to the tent that Hadrian had exited before. I shied away, but the guard kept a firm hand on my wrist and brought me inside the tent.
The inside was an entirely different world. Exotic tapestries and mats decorated the walls and hid the grass. A low table with cushions around it centered on the tent floor. A crystal ball sat atop the table, and I thought, Of course. They’re gypsies, after all. Fortune telling.
Hadrian sat on one of the table cushions, wearing that same long-sleeved blue tunic. This time, however, he wore black trousers. When the guard left, he motioned for me to sit across from him. I hesitated, but then figured if I cooperated, he might let me go. It should be plainly obvious that I wasn’t dangerous.
I lowered myself on the cushion and sat cross-legged, examining the crystal ball in front of me. It was twice larger than my fist and looked like glass, but I couldn’t see Hadrian through the other side. Crystal balls were rumored to have magic in them, but that was hard to believe. Gypsies were supposed to be thieving tricksters. There was no way they could do actual fortune telling.
Hadrian crossed his hands on the table. “I’ve called you here to—”
“You didn’t call me here.”
He paused at my interruption. The snotty little thing was probably used to being revered by all these people. But I had seen it before. I could have sworn that Hadrian’s lip turned up slightly as he continued, “You are here because I require something of you.”
I narrowed my eyes. “And what would that be?”
“Information,” he said simply. “Who are you?”
I hesitated. I didn’t know if telling him the truth was the best option. And why did he need to know who I was in the first place? It wouldn’t matter if I asked because he wouldn’t tell me the reason anyway. “Lan,” I said finally. “Lan Bury.” I had a feeling that Percy Wentzel, who always used my last name incorrectly, would be happy somehow.
His brows wrinkled in confusion. “Lanbury?”
“‘Lan’ and ‘Bury,’” I corrected. “First and last.”
He nodded, a small smile overcoming his features. “If you are lying to me, I will find out.” He leaned forward on the table and scrutinized me with eyes that made me squirm. “What exactly are you? Are you a human or magical creature?”
“I’m a unicorn.”
Apparently, this man did not react well with untimely jokes born from fear. He sat back immediately, and his eyes widened. “Impossible. How have you transformed into a human? Spells such as that are forbidden.”
I couldn’t sustain the joke—any longer and it would have been cruelty. Not that he didn’t deserve it with the way he had treated me. “I’m not a unicorn,” I confessed. “I’m human.”
Hadrian sighed, rubbing a hand over his forehead. “Do you know how dangerous they are?”
“Humans?” I laughed, and I knew I sounded like a madwoman when I said, “Yes, in fact, I do!” I knew how unpredictable they could be. I knew how cruel they could be. I knew how they could lie, cheat, and steal. I had witnessed it myself. And it wasn’t just humans. It was magical creatures as well. The entire world was a reservoir of evil.
“That’s not what I meant.” He shook his head in exasperation. “Never mind.” He placed his thumb and index finger on his forehead, and I knew I was exasperating him. “So you are human,” he said. “Where do you come from?”
“Aria,” I said truthfully. Speaking honestly was my best option. My name was the only thing I didn’t want known by the world. Besides, I hadn’t entirely lied. My father knew me as “Lan” and Percy knew me as “Bury,” so it was mostly true. “Why are you keeping me here?” I asked. “I haven’t done anything to you people.”
Hadrian leaned forward, leaning his chin on clasped hands. His brown eyes were narrowed, and his tone was serious. “I want you to answer me this: is magic in any way, shape, or form connected to you?”
I hesitated. What was I supposed to do? I couldn’t say, Yes, I’m actually a Harbinger and I have the Elemental of Water inside of me. So magic is connected to me from the inside out, really. Instead, I shook my head mutely. I didn’t have the heart to look into his eyes. There was something like fear in them. And I felt that he would dispose of me if he knew I had an incredibly powerful being living inside of me.
“Very well.” The gypsy stood and called for a guard. His expression was nonchalant as he said, “You will return with us to Nor.”
“What?” I cried. “Why aren’t you letting me go? I told you everything I know. I’m not a threat to your people!”
“Humans have ways of lying. Especially women.” He looked at me with a hint of anger in his eyes. “And I suspect that you are not telling me the entire truth of yourself, ‘Lan.’”
That may have been true, but he had no right to keep me here. He had no right to keep me from my friends or from completing my duty to this world. “Why do you want me? Am I dangerous to you? What is it about me that scares you?” I had seen the look he gave me when we first met. That look of apprehension seemed to haunt his face whenever I was near.
Hadrian turned to me, and his jaw tightened. “I fear you,” he said without meeting my eyes, “because you will bring my destruction.”
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A/N: So what do you think of Hadrian? Like him? Dislike him? Let me know in the comments below! And if you liked the chapter, click the little star to give it a vote.
And Hadrian's picture is in the media section. You pronounce his name like hey-dree-uhn. Fun fact: I got it from the name of a Roman emperor! :]
Dedicated to @Hanayukihime for supporting my stories! Thanks, Lizzie. Your support means a lot to me! ^-^