Chapter 6: In Which I Freak Out

Me. I was the only thing the two instances of unexplained happening had in common.

But I couldn’t be doing it. I didn’t have magic. I had a shawl that could apparently make little boys fly, but I didn’t have magic.

But it didn’t make him fly, the annoying voice in my head reasoned. Not at first anyway.

Well what came right before Perié had wooped and cheered that he was right?

I wished for it.

I had wished for it to happen, just so he would survive, and it did.

I had been mad at Mama and Papa for spoiling Perié and punishing me, and that anger had made the glass explode.

No! There had to be another explanation!

Oh really? The annoying voice in my head said annoyingly. And what would that be?

I....I dunno....

Exactly.

I huffed and threw my head back. I was arguing with myself, and I was loosing.

Which was stupid.

I’ll just, forget it all. Pretend none of it ever happened. That should be easy, Mama and Papa didn’t believe Perié’s flying story anyway, and he had a short attention span as it was.

I looked and the ruby in my hand and frowned. Somehow I knew I couldn’t get rid of it. Or the shawl. I wore the shawl all the time, people would start to ask questions if I suddenly stopped. As for the ruby, what if someone else found it? If it was magic, it shouldn’t fall into the wrong hands.

I tucked it back into my pocket. There. It wouldn’t do any harm to anyone there. Out of sight, out of mind.

I slept rather uneasily that night, and it didn’t help that I was woken when Papa and Perié came in arguing that the latter needed to get to bed.

“Avaká!”

I jumped, falling out of bed. I hit the floor with a very uncomfortable thump.

“Ugh....” I groaned, sitting up to see the source of the shout. “Perié!” I exclaimed. “What was that for?!”

“Mama says that you have to get up. You’re under punishment because you didn’t hang the washing on the line.” he said innocently.

Dragons and dungeons, he was right. I’d never put the washing up, and now I’d probably have to wash it again.

I huffed and flopped back on my pillow, which had toppled over with me. Why must it be?

Yank! Thud.

“Ow!” My head hit the dirt ground. I sat up to glare at my brother, who only whacked me with my pillow.

“Better get up!” he tossed the pillow onto the bed and ran, angling his arms like a bird as he went.

I rolled my eyes. This was my life, Scout. More a servant that you didn’t have to pay than a daughter.

But what was there to change?

I got up and dusted myself off, pulling on my shoes before I headed out into the kitchen for my daily orders.

As it turned out, did need to be done again. Mama was mad that I had only hung up my shawl, even though I knew I hadn’t hung a single stitch.

But there was my turquoise shawl, blowing in the wind and smelling line fresh.

I tried to ignore the fact that I knew I hadn’t put it there as I wound it around my neck. Somehow the familiar feel of the soft fabric was still comforting.

Washing the clothes in the ravine was as boring and uneventful as it should be. After I had hung everything to dry, Mama plopped a new basket in my hands, along with a few coins and a list.

“Now, you’ll get what’s on this list, and only what’s on this list, not a morsel more.” she said sternly. As if to protest this, my stomach growled, reminding me that I hadn’t had supper last night. The tiny amount of watery porridge that I’d had for breakfast hadn’t helped.

Have you ever been to the market Scout? Did it seem crowded?

I’ve never liked crowds. And during hard times like this, the crowds were only fiercer and larger. People left and right were yelling out what they had for sale constantly, trying to make ends meet with the skills and soil they had. Others were bartering over the price of something, though bartering quickly turned to arguing. There were even some who had no money to spend or product to sell. The nicer of these were begging for a morsel while the more wicked were trying to steal it.

I clung tightly to my basket and coins as I mad my way though the crowds.

When you’re desperate, things tend to turn gray. Trifecta used to be a lovely place of color, but it seemed to have lost that. The rainy season made the sky a constant gray, and the green of the spring leaves seemed dull. Even the people seemed to have grayed themselves.

I hate market.

I pushed my way through to the baker’s and bought bread that I knew would be pale and tasteless. Since the Starlands had stopped sending over sugar, something sweet was hard to come by.

I went to the water pump where I waited in line to fill our water jug. Since the Crosslands had stopped sending over the strange powder that made dirty water clean for drinking, we all worried for the contaminants in our wells.

I tucked the jug into my basket, careful not to crush the bread, and looked at the two silver coins in my hand. Just enough to buy Mama’s special tea, which she said she needed to keep her sane.

Something bumped me and brushed my hand. The coins disappeared.

“Hey!” I whirled around and chased after the culprit. I couldn’t see their face, or even if they were boy or a girl, but I didn’t care. Mama would kill me if I came home with the story that my coins had been stolen just before I got her special tea.

All the people I rather rudely pushed aside were a blur. I only saw the person I was chasing clearly. I have no idea what I was thinking, me, a small skinny girl, was going to do against someone who was probably practiced in the art of thievery and very much stronger than me. I just knew what I’d be in for if I told Mama I let the thief get away.

I made it all the way to the village fields before I realized I had left market. I finally caught up to the assailant and tackled them to the dust.

“Oof! Ow! Quit it!” what was clearly a boy’s voice shouted. I didn’t get a good look at his face until I had him pinned to the ground.

Apparently, I’m stronger than I look when I want to be Scout.

His skin was embedded with dirt and dust, as anyone who lived in a remote area like Trifecta will get. His hair was pitch black however, a contrast to the usual shades of blonde and brown in the area.

What really threw me were his eyes. Now before you go all gooey on me Scout, it’d do you well to know that everyone in Trifecta had brown eyes of some sort, murky or otherwise.

But his were a startlingly clear blue. I had seen the ocean before, if only in paintings I found at market, but his eyes looked like the deep, dark blue an artist would choose for an oncoming storm at sea.

If he wasn’t in worn cotton rags with a hat that had fallen off under his head, he’d be rather elegant.

“You’re not supposed to chase me!” he exclaimed, looking at me as though I was in the wrong.

“You stole my coins!” I shot back with a glare, my enchantment over his eyes gone.

“Yes.” he nodded. “I’m a thief, that’s how it works. “I take the coins, you scream ’Stop! Thief!’ I run away, and then we never bother each other again.”

“Just because it how it works, doesn’t mean its how it should work!” I snapped.

“Complicated thought.” He nodded sarcastically. “What housewife taught you that?”

I released one of his arms for half a second to grab a fistful of his hair and bang his head against the dirt.

“Ow!” He winced. “Violent little doll, aren’t you?”

“I’m not a doll, now where are my coins?”

“Not telling.”

“Fine. I’ll just keep you here.”

“Alright with me.” he smirked. “Though you might start a scandal, little doll.”

I glared at him and shifted so I could knee him in the stomach.

He winced and it was my turn to smirk. “Quite the scandal indeed; idiot thief, bested by a girl.”

He grumbled. “Left pocket of my jacket....”

I shifted to reach into his pocket and still hold him down.

What I found was a small bag made from dark leather. From the way it jingled, it was full of coins.

“Seems I’m not your first victim.” I said tauntingly, shaking the bag in his face.

“First to fight back though.” he struggled under me. I held tighter to his wrists. “What are you? Twelve moons? How are you this strong?” he whined.

I laughed. “Not often bested by a girl, are you?”

Truth be told Scout, I wasn’t sure where my strength had come from. I wasn’t strong. Papa always had to lighten my load when I helped bring in the harvest. This boy was around my size, and probably my age, but he clearly had more muscle on him.

He was thin though. Not like me, I was simply built skinny. He was skinny like he hadn’t see supper in weeks.

What Scout? No! He was just a thief! I wasn’t pitying him!

“Are you just going to keep me here forever?” he asked, still sounding annoyed.

“No.” I got off him, holding tight to his coin bag. He got up as well, brushed himself off, and repositioned his old gray hat on top of his curls.

Then he held his hand out.

I looked between him and his outstretched hand, which was calloused and dirty like Mama wouldn’t allow in the house, then scoffed.

“Are you expecting me to give you this?” I held up the bag, jingling it tauntingly.

“Yes.” He said as though it was simple.

“No. Its not yours.”

“Not yours either.” He pointed out.

“Well perhaps I should return it to its rightful owner.”

“Long journey to the Crosslands.”

I blinked. “Crosslands? You’re from the Crosslands?”

“Not from anywhere, little doll.” he says airily, ignoring the he got at the name. “Just come and go as I please, taking from those who won’t miss what’s gone.”

The way he said it made him sound like the good guy. Like the thief who took from the rich and gave to the poor in the stories Mama red Perié before he’d go to sleep.

I scowled, well aware that wasn’t the case. “Don’t call me little doll. My name’s Avaká.”

“I am Kovate.” he bowed dramatically. “At your service.”

Next Chapter: Chapter 7: In Which I Become A Secondary Thief