“I don’t understand how you can prefer working for him to joining me in the tavern.”
“Mr. Ferman is frustrating, but I like being in a shop, Pip. We’ve been over this.” Countless times. But since Sadie had never told Pippa the true reason she refused to work in the tavern, they were bound to have the conversation plenty more in the future. Sadie’s insistence that she loved working in a shop simply wasn’t convincing.
She meant it, however, when she said that she cared more about where she worked than who her employer was. She could deal with people like Mr. Ferman, but being in a tavern for hours would be too much to handle. Sadie’s power skimmed surface thoughts, the ones clamoring to be spoken aloud. The more closely guarded a thought was, the less chance she had of accidentally hearing it. Thoughts loosened with alcohol. Without a new charm, she’d be inundated with people’s thoughts all night at the tavern. Sooner rather than later, she’d slip up and respond to something thought and not said.
Once that happened, and her secret was out, things always deteriorated in one of two ways. Either people began to avoid her, or a mob formed. Sadly, she had reason to know she preferred the mob, for at least then it was immediately clear she had to leave. She always tried to fool herself that people would adjust if she gave them a chance when they didn’t confront her directly. But once every room emptied if she stepped inside, it was over. Shops wouldn’t sell to her when she drove away other business, even if the proprietors might have otherwise let greed outweigh their fear in short bursts.
Pippa would never understand the fears holding Sadie back. And Sadie was no longer young and foolish enough that she’d try to share them. “Please, Pippa. Can you get me a pasty to eat on the way? If I don’t leave soon, I’ll be stuck walking home in the dark.”
“You shouldn’t be traveling alone through the woods so late, even if the sun won’t set for a few more hours. You’ve heard the stories.”
Since Pippa relished repeating the tales told over tankards about spirits haunting the Gloaming Forest, Sadie had heard more than enough of the stories. She sighed. “Pippa, I’m not going to avoid the forest because a few drunk men thought stories of demons might scare you into their laps. I mean, really, demons?”
She wasn’t worried about the forest. Since moving to Lamsdel, she had heard enough tales to conclude that people wanted the forest to be haunted because it made their pastoral village more interesting. They looked for excuses to shriek about evil spirits, then relished the attention it brought.
Pippa tugged on her blond braid, the corner of her mouth lifting. “Well, Charles was probably exaggerating about the demon, though it did make for a fun evening letting him think I was terrified.” She sobered quickly. “But that doesn’t mean the woods aren’t haunted. And your amulet won’t protect you, Sadie.”
Her friend knew the charm had been carved by Sadie’s grandmother and no longer retained power. Of course, Pippa thought the common warding glyph etched on the front of the agate was the only one and that Sadie continued to wear the stone on a ribbon at her throat for sentimental reasons.
“If you are so worried, then help me get some food so I can be on my way before night falls.”
“Fine,” Pippa grumbled, moving into the kitchen.
While Sadie waited for her, she licked her thumb and traced the glyph on her amulet once more. Today was apparently one of those days when her uncontrollable magic asserted itself. Sometimes Sadie went hours alone in her own mind withoutusing her amulet at all. Other times, like now, she couldn’t go two breaths without invading someone’s privacy.
If her affinity had been for earth, she could have made a new charm, one that wouldn’t need to be coaxed into drawing magic constantly. If the hidden glyph hadn’t come from a forbidden grimoire, she could have asked any witch with an earth affinity to make a new one. But no witch worth their salt would inscribe an unknown glyph.
Pippa returned, thrusting a bundle wrapped in calico at Sadie. There was more than a single pasty inside, but she didn’t unfold the fabric to look. “Thank you, Pip.”
Pippa didn’t release her hold on the bundle, preventing Sadie from leaving. “We are talking about this more when you get back. You can’t keep letting Mr. Ferman take advantage of you like this.”
“Don’t worry, I never assumed you were done arguing. But later. Please?”
Pippa released the bundle of food, and though Sadie had increased the magic flowing into her amulet, Pippa’s next thought washed over her all the same, the sentiment too strong to be held back by such weak power.
She needs to learn to stand up for herself.
Three
???
Sadie brooded overPippa’s parting thought the entire walk to Marstede Manor.
She couldn’t enjoy the summer heat, softened by a breeze that brought with it the loamy scents of the forest. Her thoughts soured even the excellent peach tart Pippa had included in the bundle of food.
Sadie hadn’t always been a pushover. In fact, the attitude didn’t come naturally to her even now. But she had no other choice. She needed to be overlooked, dismissed, ignored. It was the only way she could maintain any sort of stable life.
Sadie was tired of packing up and starting over in a new town, a new village. Her life in Lamsdel, working at Ferman’s Exotic Goods, might not be a dream come true, but it was better than constantly traveling—never knowing where her next meal would come from or if she’d even have a bed to sleep in. That meant she had to keep her head down and her opinions locked up.
It had taken Sadie years to accept just how poorly people always reacted to learning she could read minds, and she had lived through it all. As she was growing up, the other villagers—children and adults alike—had ostracized her. They accepted the potions she made as a teenager, claiming them as their due forhaving to live with the breach of privacy her magic caused, but otherwise wouldn’t so much as chat about the weather with her.
Sadie had assumed that leaving her home village and starting fresh would improve her life. And it had—until her secret came out. Every time she thought she had found a home, she learned all over again that no one could accept a telepath in their midst.
When she invariably slipped up, her supposed friends turned against her. She’d had to flee once in the middle of the night because she had located the heirloom ring an acquaintance’s daughter had hidden. Suddenly, the entire neighborhood was convinced Sadie had stolen it and framed the daughter. She’d told them about her magic to defend herself, and somehow the accusations had only grown worse.
A telepath couldn’t possibly be a good person. Shemustbe using her powers to swindle everyone around her. No assurances or logical arguments could sway people once they learned about her magic.
It was the same way people regarded the Gloaming Forest, Sadie realized. The woods were dark and ancient; therefore, any mishap that happened in their depths must be caused by evil spirits. They didn’t need proof.
