FEARLESS: The King Series, Book One (15 page)

In the outside corridor, Michael took my hand and I smiled up at him as we walked.

“Will you always want me?” I asked him suddenly.

The question didn’t seem to startle him. “Always,” he answered without hesitation. “From now into eternity. I promise.”

“But how do you know?” I persisted.

This time he did consider. “I don’t know how I know, but I
do
know. Maybe the whys and the hows aren’t as important as just the knowing.”

I thought about this, and then nodded in agreement. “Okay, I guess I can accept that.”

“Good.” Michael glanced up and down the sidewalk, which was still deserted, and then abruptly stopped walked and swung me around, pulling me close and dropping his hands to my back. We were both careful about over the top displays of affection in school; neither of us liked making a spectacle. But no one was near us now.

“So,” he said softly, looking down into my eyes. “What about you? Will you always want me?”

“Forever,” I promised.

“Then,” he continued, “will you go with me to the Harvest Moon Dance?”

I made a face. “Do we have to go?”

“Why wouldn’t we? Are you opposed to music, autumnal decorations and seeing my cool dance moves?”

I laughed at that, resting my forehead on his chest. “Not opposed to any of that. But I’ve never been to a dance. I have no idea what to expect, and I know my parents will make a huge deal out of it.”

Michael’s hands stroked my hair down my back. “It’s nothing to worry about. It’ll be fun, I promise. We’ll dress up, dance a little and then we can go home. Okay?”

I sighed in martyrdom. “I guess so.” Michael laughed at me, and then tilted my head up so he could see my eyes again.

“Remember,” he breathed. “Always.”

The rest of the week passed quickly and quietly. Nell continued her trend of pretending that I didn’t exist.  Although we had a lab in Chemistry at the end of the week, Liza managed to get through it with a minimum of interaction with me. Ms. Lacusta didn’t mention her invitation to the chemistry club, and I was very relieved.

Cara continued to eat lunch with us. I didn’t see anything odd about the way she reacted to Michael, and this too was a relief. She began to chat with the others who sat at our table, and I thought I noticed that Dan Hillinger, one of Michael’s friends, seemed to particularly like her. I wondered if he would ask her to the upcoming dance.  Michael had told me that through high school, the six of them usually went to the formal dances in a group, although now and then one of them would include an outside date.

I knew that Brea was toying with the idea of inviting a boy from my class to be her date. She thought he liked her, but he didn’t seem to have the nerve to actually ask her out. Brea was so much the opposite of Anne that it was sometimes hard to believe that they had been best friends for years. Brea was tall and athletic, and although she might have been considered striking, she was not exactly pretty. She eschewed any makeup or hair fussing, which annoyed Anne to no end. I knew that Anne and I had more in common when it came to primping and cosmetics, but Brea didn’t seem threatened by me at all. While we didn’t have the instant rapport that I’d felt with Anne, Brea was kind to me, pleasant to talk with, and very secure with her role in the group around the lunch table.

I had observed too that Jim Shuller seemed to rest his eyes on Anne more than on anyone else. I remembered her telling me that he had been the one to warn her about Nick, the loser who’d broken her heart last summer. I wondered idly if Jim had had a greater motivation than Anne realized for wanting her to stay away from Nick. It was tempting to listen to his mind for a bit in order to get Anne the inside scoop, but I knew meddling could be dangerous. I decided to watch only with my eyes and hope that Jim would act on his feelings toward Anne sooner rather than later.

Craig Donalson was the quietest of the group. He was a football player, and Michael had told me with pride that Craig had won a scholarship to a Florida state school. Apparently, he was not only an athlete, but also an excellent scholar. He and I had had our longest conversation to date about Shakespeare; I was amazed that he knew the plays so well.

It was mind boggling for me to realize that I actually had a small group of friends. Michael had definitely helped by introducing me to Anne and the others, but Cara I had found on my own. Or rather, she had found me, thanks to Nell.  Irony abounded.

We had come to the end of October, and the weather was still beautifully warm each day. The daily afternoon thunderstorms that I had come to expect had disappeared. I missed the changing of the leaves and the chilly evenings that were common in the north this time of year, but I knew I wouldn’t miss the long winters.

I broke the news of the Harvest Moon Dance to my mother after school on Friday. Michael had dropped me off on the way to work, with the promise to pick me up before lunch the next day for our date at the nursery.

My mom was sitting at the kitchen table having iced tea and flipping through the mail. She had been preoccupied lately with one of her projects; it was a more involved children’s book, with lots of intricate illustrations. She loved the work, but sometimes she seemed to be in another world.

“So…” I cleared my throat as I wandered into the room.  “Ummm… there’s a dance at school, some kind of harvest dance, I guess, and Michael asked me to go with him.”

My mother shook off her absent look immediately. “A dance? Like a real, dressy dance?”

“Yeah, I guess so,” I mumbled, hoping against hope that she wasn’t going to let her excitement get too out of hand.

“Oh
sweetie
!!” My hopes were dashed as her voice rose several octaves. “That’s wonderful! We’ll have to go shopping for a dress and shoes… I haven’t found a good hair place yet, but maybe I can ask around. . .”

“Mom!” I needed to nip this in the bud. “Listen. We can get a dress and shoes, that’ll be fun, but no hair appointment, no big deal, okay? I want to keep this low key.”

“Why?” The vibes of excitement and giddiness were still rolling off her, and I felt guilty once again for not being the daughter I could have been.

“Because… just because. This is my first dance, and I’m looking forward to it, but in the grand scheme of things, it’s not that big a deal.”

She looked at me in exasperated confusion. “Every other dance, at every other school, I got the feeling you wanted to go. I always thought it was Daddy and me keeping you from getting involved.”

“No… not exactly. I wanted to be asked, because I wanted to be… normal. Even when I knew I couldn’t be.  Maybe it was easier to blame you than to admit that I was never going to be like the others. But now here, for the first time, I’m part of things. I don’t need a dance to make me feel that way.”

My mother was still slightly puzzled, but she nodded anyway. “So then why are you going to this dance, if you’re not really excited about it?”

I still wasn’t sure of the answer to this one myself. “It’s important to Michael. It’s something we can do with his friends. It’s not that I don’t want to go, it’s just that I don’t want to make a big production of it.”

“Okay. No hair. Just dress and shoes. When is the dance, anyway?”

Good question. “I think it’s next Friday night.”

My mother shook her head and sighed. “Doesn’t give us much time. We’ll have to hit the mall this weekend…”

“Actually, Mom, I’m spending Saturday afternoon with Michael out at the nursery, if that’s okay.”

“Oh…” Momentarily deflated, she frowned, and then brightened. “Well, how about Sunday afternoon?”

“Umm… yeah, I think I can do that,” I agreed, trying to tamp out the reluctance and feign some enthusiasm.

“Good! We’ll go early enough to have some lunch out, just the two of us; we haven’t done that in forever.” My mother’s happiness made up for a little of my own lack, and I smiled in spite of myself.

Alone in my room, I thought about the dance and why I wasn’t as giddy with excitement about it as other girls seemed to be. It wasn’t that I didn’t want to go; it was more the idea that I might be terribly out of place and embarrass both Michael and myself. And of course, I was also worried about my parents and the fuss they were bound to make. I knew it was a big first for them too, but the thought of flashing cameras and doting parents made me want to cringe.

I wondered if Anne would give me some pointers on what happened at the Harvest Moon Dance, just so I could be somewhat prepared. It seemed like a good idea to ask he
r
.

I was up fairly early the next day, for a Saturday. I spent the morning dusting and vacuuming my room, doing laundry and working on what little homework was assigned over the weekend.

When Michael knocked on the front door, I was ready and waiting. He made sure to say hello to my father, who had come out of the kitchen to see what I was doing. My mom was sequestered in her office, working.

Finally, we were off. Michael had put the top down on the car, and I leaned my head back against the seat, enjoying the rush of wind in my face. My hair blew wildly, and I felt Michael’s hand smooth it back away from my eyes. I pivoted my head to look at him.

“It’s no use, it’ll be a mess anyway when we get there.”

He laughed. “Should I put the top up, then?”

“No! I love to ride with it down. I don’t care about my hair.  I can brush it out and hope for the best.”

We were nearly shouting to hear each other over the rush of the wind. So when Michael said something else, I didn’t hear him at first.

“What?” I asked.

“I said, today would be a good day for another driving lesson.”

I rolled my eyes. “What, so you can get some more material for your stand-up act? No, thank you. I am perfectly content to drive automatic.”

“That’s ridiculous. It’s so easy, Tas. You know you can do it.”

“I’ll think about it.” That was as much as I’d give him. I hoped he might forget about it once we actually got to the nursery.

As Marly had predicted, Sawood was becoming a second home to me. I spent as many weekend days out there as my parents would allow, and I was getting to know some of the people who worked with the plants and in the shop. Sometimes I hung out with Marly in the greenhouse, and other times I tagged along with Michael while he worked in the fields. And now I was not only allowed but actually encouraged to help with dinner prep and clean up.  It made me feel warm and accepted. And because Marly, like Michael, seemed to be someone I heard with particular ease, I knew that she was fond of me, too.

The nursery was particularly busy right now, because their pumpkin patch was open. Each Saturday, they offered free hayrides to groups of children who would then choose their pumpkins. Michael sometimes got roped into being the driver, which he didn’t particularly enjoy. I’d ridden along a few times and laughed at his long-suffering expression as we waited for each child to select just the right pumpkin.

Today, he told me as we pulled carefully through the crowded lot to park near the cabin, he had only had to drive one circuit. His mother had relented and allowed him to work elsewhere until it was time to fetch me.

We watched the families milling about, buying fall decorations from the shop, while their small children struggled to hold onto the huge pumpkins.

“Strange to see so many people here, isn’t it?” I remarked.

“Yeah, and it’ll stay this busy through Christmas. I know it’s what keeps us going—we need the walk-in customers as much as we need the landscaping jobs—but I have to say, I kind of like it better when it’s quieter.”

“I understand.” I turned to smile up at him. “So what are we doing today? Do you have to work first, or can we talk?”

“I’m clear for the afternoon. I’m going to pull an extra afternoon shift this week to help out, in exchange for taking this afternoon off.”

I frowned. “Are you sure that’s okay? I don’t want your parents to get mad at us.”

He tousled my hair, which was still completely windblown. “No, don’t worry. They were fine with it. I thought maybe we’d pack a picnic and take it to our spot in the Christmas tree field.”

This was an appealing plan. I was hungry, and I loved that Michael felt as attached as I did to our little area between the pine trees and the citrus field. We blew through the kitchen at the cabin, throwing together sandwiches, chips, fruit and drinks. Michael’s idea of a small picnic was of course much different than mine. By the time we left, the basket was heavy, and we could’ve lived off that food for a week.

It was such a beautiful day. A light breeze fluttered the leaves around us and cooled us from the intensity of the sun.  Michael spread a blanket on the ground, and we set up our lunch. He kicked off his work boots and stretched out on the blanket while I sat cross-legged in a corner, enjoying my sandwich.

“You’re going to eat more than just the one sandwich, right?” he questioned as I finished my lunch.

I shook my head. “I’m dress shopping tomorrow with my mom. Won’t you be mortified if you end up having to take me to the dance wearing a tent? I have to watch my caloric intake.”

“You look fantastic, you always do. You don’t need to diet. I already know I’ll have the most beautiful girl as my date.”

I decided it wasn’t worth arguing. Especially as I could feel the self-satisfied and relaxed vibes flowing from him, which meant he wouldn’t be moved anyway. Instead I extended my legs in front of me, rolled to the side and propped myself up on my elbow, facing Michael. He was still flat on his back, eyes closed, soaking up the sun.

“So…” I began, not wanting him to nod off to sleep quite yet.

He opened one eye and looked at me. “So?”

“So, are you going to fill me in on the history of occult practices in the town of King? You promised.”

“I know.”

“So…” I repeated, exasperated.

He rolled to his side, mirroring my own position, leaning his head on his hand. “Tasmyn, it’s not that I’m keeping something from you. If I’m hesitating at all, it’s because I’m a little afraid we’re making a lot out of nothing. What if I tell you all this—some of which I’m not really sure about—and it does turn out to be nothing?”

“Then we’ll do nothing. But how can we make that determination if only one of us knows the whole story?”

He sighed, and I knew he still wasn’t happy about this idea. I was getting frustrated.

“You know, if you don’t want to tell me, I could just listen to you and find out on my own.” I didn’t mean it to be a threat, but it ended up sounding like one.

His eyes widened. “You wouldn’t. I know you. You feel guilty about listening to me even when I ask you to do it.  You wouldn’t purposely listen to something that I’m not ready to tell you.”

“Probably not.” I wasn’t ready to abandon this position just yet.

He sighed again, heavily.

“I really don’t get why you’re being so difficult about telling me this. If it’s just rumors and hearsay, couldn’t anyone in town tell me? I could ask Anne.”

“No, you don’t need to ask Anne. And maybe anyone in town
could
tell you, but they won’t. No one wants to talk about the less savory side of King’s mystical aura.”

I giggled in spite of myself. “That sounded like the opening line of a bad news expose’.”

Michael smiled too. “It did, didn’t it? Well, it’s the truth, however it sounds.” He paused, and I could sense the struggle. “Okay, I’ll tell you what I know or what I’ve heard, at least. But promise me you won’t let your mind run wild, all right?”

“I’ll do what I can to rein it in,” I assured him.

“Well… I told you about King and the families who trace their lineage back to the original carnies. Some of them don’t live here anymore, but they tend to be the less flamboyant descendants—you know, like the more mundane acts in the carnival.

“What was unique about King’s Carnival back in the day was that he always claimed to have some kind of corner on the really mystical stuff. He not only had a fortuneteller, he claimed he had a real witch—she would sell charms, potions, whatever. Cast spells, maybe. And he had magicians who he said were the descendants of the original alchemists—they weren’t just doing tricks, they were actually making things appear out of thin air. That kind of thing.

“Well, while that fascinated some folks, others were afraid of it. So they started getting run out of towns, more and more. The women in the towns weren’t happy that their husbands were visiting the witch’s tent at night, getting charms or whatever… I think it was probably the
whatever
that bothered them more than the charms, but they used their righteous indignation to rally the churches and chase the whole carnival out of their town.

“King was getting older, and he was tired of the life on the road. Plus I’m sure he was beginning to see that the audience for his kind of carnival was drying up, as people were getting more and more caught up in religious fervor. Maybe he was really that much of a visionary, or maybe his fortuneteller clued him in. Who knows? Whatever it was, he decided he wanted to leave that kind of life behind.

“He had heard about the land in the central part of Florida being wide open, warm year around and pretty isolated. He decided to buy a big parcel of that land and start his own town. He invited all the people who worked for him to come down and begin a new life. He promised them the chance to live freely, without fear of persecution or prejudice.

“So they all came down here and started the town. For years it was just them, then as the surrounding area started settling, more people moved in and opened up businesses, started families. And at first, I don’t think they worried about the past or about their reputations as carnies. The people who moved here from other places knew how the town had started and were either okay with that or were willing to overlook it.

“And although I don’t know, I imagine that the real mystical stuff was still going on at that point. I’m not saying that I believe in any of that, because I don’t, but I think that they were still practicing what they saw as their magic. I’m also fairly sure that it was getting passed down to the next generation around that same time.

“When King finally died—he was pretty old, in his nineties—he had it written into his will that the town belonged to the original families that had settled it with him. He wanted it clear that it belong to them not only in the legal, physical sense, but also in the metaphysical sense. His will is still on display in a glass case at town hall, so you can see right there that the roots of this town were… well, let’s just say less than traditional.”

“All of this is really fascinating, and I truly am excited to learn about the history of King. Seriously. But I don’t get how what happened, what, over a hundred years ago, has anything to do with Nell and Amber.”

Michael smiled at me. “Patience, my dear,” he said, in an affected drawl. “You have to understand the basis of all this to see why what you saw in Nell’s mind made me think of the rumors.”

I gestured with my free hand. “Then, by all means, continue. I am your—” I searched for the word, “—devoted student.”

He gave me a reproving look in answer to my sarcasm. “Thanks. Well, I guess during the years right after King’s death, the town chugged along much as it had while he was alive. The fortuneteller, or witch, if you will—her name was Sarah—died eventually, but her daughters continued practicing her craft, as she had taught them. There are minutes of town meetings that very matter-of-factly talk about the practices of the witches.

“But I think following Sarah’s death, the people who weren’t part of the original carnie family starting getting a little bolder. They began protesting some of the more extreme mystical elements. Other towns were beginning to form closer to King, and I imagine no one in King wanted it to be known as the crazy witch town. So things began to change, slowly. As I said before, some of the original families either left town or died out over the years.

“However, the majority of them stayed here. They had land they owned, and really, they still maintained control of the town itself. They might have allowed the outsiders to push some of the more extreme practices underground, but in the end, I think it was just that—they
allowed
it. Probably because they were smart enough to know that the change would make King more attractive to others who might want to move here, and they knew that the town had to grow or die.

“That didn’t mean that the other stuff stopped. It just got—hidden. Most people knew about it, or at least had an idea. But they turned a blind eye. It was kind of a live-and-let-live situation, you know?

“Every now and then, though, something will happen and it flares out into the open. Kids will talk about seeing a group of women in the forests, or someone finds a burnt circle… that kind of thing. It makes the paper, and everyone talks about it for a month, then it fades away again. Apparently, if the witches are still practicing, they don’t mind a little publicity, and they just maintain a low-profile until it goes away again.”

I wasn’t trying to listen to Michael, but I was so attuned to his moods and feelings that I naturally picked them up, trying or not. I could tell right now that he was indecisive. There was something more, but he wasn’t sure it was right to share it.

“That’s all very interesting, but it’s still sort of general,” I told him. “I can tell there’s something specific you’re worried about telling me.”

“Again, it’s not because I don’t trust you, but because it almost falls into the category of gossip. All of what I’ve told you so far is history and real, confirmable happenings. The rest… well, part of it is real enough, but at least some of it is—rumor and talk.”

“Tell anyway,” I commanded. “I promise not to do any jumping to conclusions.” I made a show of crossing my heart and looking earnest. Michael made a face at me.