Spark (Legends of the Shifters) (14 page)

An
icy draft pulled me out of my slumber the next morning. I noticed
movement to my right and looked over to see January disappearing into
the other room, glaring at me when she realized that I was awake. As
much as I wanted to pull the covers over myself and slip back into
sweet darkness, I forced my mind to wake, shifting my feet to the
floor and making myself stand.

We
made a routine out of it, January and I, waking up at the same time,
her leaving as soon as she was dressed, and me catching up afterward.
We did this until all the days strung together, forming a whole two
months since I'd left the orphanage. With each day, I sensed her
resentment for me grow.

Gradually,
the days got warmer, turning the ice and snow into slush, which
melted into the ground, and caused the river down the pathway to turn
brown and overflow. It was a relief to watch the river turn crystal
clear again, and hearing it burbling along the bank reminded me my
home in Forlander, where the river flowed through the middle of the
town.

*****

Today
was the summer solstice, one of the most popular holidays on the
northern islands. Unlike every Sunday at the conservatory, the
solstice was a true holiday, one where we wouldn't have to do
anything for the entire day, except for the survival tests, of
course. Even those weren't mandatory. Liana had been talking about a
festival in Winter's Peak—the little town down the mountain—for
the past few weeks. In fact, the subject seemed to be on everyone's
mind lately. It was a celebration of the beautiful weather, but also
a solemn reminder of how little time we have left to bask in the sun
before the winter breathes over the land once again.

I
hadn't been allowed to go to Winter's Peak since I had tried to make
it all the way to Forlander and back, but the headmaster said that I
would be allowed to go on the solstice. Liana and I had planned to go
after the morning survival tests even though the festival didn't
start until dinner time, but our plans were ruined when she woke up
sick. It was the kind where she had to have a bucket at her bedside
at all times.

When
I had completed my survival test, I abandoned the crowd of students
headed to Winter's Peak, and hurried to my dorm room to check on my
friend. I shut the door and sat on my bed, which was still next to
hers.

Liana
was pale. A cold cloth had been placed on her forehead. I could tell
that she truly felt horrible because her usual cheerful face was
screwed into an expression of misery.

She
cracked open her eyes to look at me, squinting as if the light hurt
them. “Ivy, you should go with the other students. I know that
it's one of the only chances you'll have to enjoy the festival.”

I
shook my head. “I don't have anyone to go with. I'd rather not
go at all if I can't go with you.”

She
gave me a small smile. “Maybe it's time that you make some
other friends.”

We
heard the door open, and both looked toward it. Natalia came in with
a small glass of water in one hand and a thermometer in the other.
“Ivy, you should go down to the village with the others,”
she said. I wondered if she had been listening to our conversation.

“
I
prefer to stay with Liana,” I said.

Natalia
walked over and sat next to me. “I'm taking care o her. Plus, I
told Roland that you would go with him.”

“
Roland?
Why would you tell him that?” I asked.

“
Because
I know that you've been training with him in the mornings, and
figured that he was one of your only other friends, besides Liana and
me.”

I
was surprised and honored when she said that. She had just called
herself my friend. I'd thought Natalia was incapable of having
friends.

“
You
should go,” Liana pitched in again. “I don't want to
spoil your day. Mine's already spoiled enough.”

I
smiled and stood up. “Alright, I'll go. But don't expect me to
enjoy it without my friends.”

“
Wait,”
said Natalia. She went to her trunk and rifled through it, pulling
out a beautiful green dress. “You should wear this,” she
said. “It was my sister's, but it doesn't fit me, and I doubt
it even fits her anymore.”

I
took the dress and held it out. It looked about my size. “Thank
you so much,” I said, smiling at her.

She
shrugged her shoulders. “No problem...Oh, and wear these as
well.” She took out a pair of nice dress shoes and handed them
to me. They were a little worn, but I was glad to have them.

I
hurried and changed before making my way out of the room. Because the
shoes were a little too big, it made my descent down the stairs a
little awkward, so much so that I nearly bumped into Roland at the
bottom.

“
There
you are!” he said. “I was beginning to think that I'd
have to go to the village by myself.”

“
You
could have gone with January or Grix,” I said, walking past
him.

He
shook his head. “They left before the survival tests. Being
born in a family with money has its perks. They probably ate
breakfast at The Sticky Wicket.”

I
smiled. “The Sticky Wicket?”

“
The
students love to go there for their cinnamon rolls. They have the
best.”

“
Well,
I can't go,” I said. “I don't have any money.”

He
pulled out a small jingling bag. That's okay. I have plenty.”

“
Were
you born into money, too?” I asked.

He
chuckled. “No. Far from it. I just receive a small salary as a
trainer.”

Because
he was barely three years older than me, I kept on thinking of him as
a fellow student.

We
followed the pathway that the other people had trampled down. The
road had been washed away with all the water and mud. It would need
to be repaved.

Roland
and I walked silently. I looked up at the sky to watch as a few birds
flew by, singing songs of cheerfulness. The sound made my heart lift.
Birdsong was always part of the summer solstice. In my hometown, the
villagers would often join in with songs of their own.

Once
Winter's Peak came into view, Roland started to lead the way. We
walked by cottages and various storefronts until we reached a sign
that read
The Sticky Wicket
.
Wagon wheels made up most of the sign. They were painted green and
red, but the paint was old and most of it was peeled off. Vines grew
along the stone walls, and two window boxes overflowed with morning
glories under the large, grid-like windows.

The
bell above the door jingled merrily as a group of students came out,
laughing and talking. Roland opened the door for me, and let me go in
first. The place was slightly crowded, although that was expected
from how popular Roland had said it was. It seemed a lot bigger on
the inside than what it showed from the outside. Booths were placed
along the stone walls and the sun shone through the windows, making
the space feel bright and cheerful.

Roland
and I found an empty booth to slide in. The backs of the booths rose
above our heads, creating a sense of privacy. I could already see why
this place was so popular.

A
frazzled looking woman walked up and took our orders—two
cinnamon rolls, a black coffee and an apple cider. After she sidled
away, Roland looked out the window for a few minutes. He seemed kind
of distant, unlike his usually cheerful disposition.

“
Is
something wrong?” I asked.

He
looked at me, as if surprised that I had asked the question. “Not
entirely,” he said after a while. “I recently received
news that my sister had her baby. I was just wishing that I could
visit them. It's my mother and father's first grandchild.”

I
smiled. Being an orphan with no other family, I imagined that it
would be a very joyous occasion. I found myself wishing that I
could've had a grandmother and a grandfather. Other kids in Forlander
got to visit theirs, but I, as always, was alone. Perhaps Elna could
be a grandmotherly figure, but I found her a little too spunky for
that title. She was more like an aunt.

“
That's
great news,” I said. “I'm sure you'll get a chance to
visit them.”

He
raised his eyebrows. “Will I?” he asked. “The
schedules are so tight here that I don't know if I'll have the time.

“
Well,
would she be able to visit here?” I questioned.

He
shook his head. “I wouldn't wish a seven day journey on any
woman with a newborn baby, but especially not my sister.”

“
Oh,”
I said, feeling stupid. “I guess I didn't think that idea
through.”

“
You
weren't to know how far away they lived,” he said graciously.

The
woman arrived with our steaming mugs and cinnamon rolls. The smell of
them made my mouth water.

Roland
completely ignored the fork that they'd brought and dove into his
cinnamon roll with his fingers, so I copied what he did. We both
ended up a sticky mess, but it was worth it. The cinnamon rolls were
some of the best things that I'd ever put in my mouth. The apple
cider and sweet cinnamon combination tasted delicious.

Once
we were done, Roland paid the tab, and we went outside to wash the
stickiness off our hands, taking turns pumping the water for each
other.

“
What
next?” Roland asked me after we started away from the building.

“
I
don't know,” I answered. “Liana mentioned that she
usually helped set up the festival.”

He
nodded. “Sounds like a plan. They should be starting the
preparations right about now.”

He
led the way, further into the town. At the end of the long line of
buildings, a large clearing with lush dark green grass stretched out
in front of us. Several lamp posts surrounded the area, and stands
were already being set up by some of the villagers. At the end of the
clearing, there was a covered wooden platform made out of birch.
Roland pointed to it. “That's where the musicians play,”
he said. “I think that they're gypsies, but they play such good
music that the headmaster won't turn them in.”

“
Why
would he turn them in?” I asked.

He
gave me a funny look. “Don't you know that gypsies are outlaws?
For hundreds of years, the law has been to turn them in when you see
them.”

“
Oh?”
I looked back to the platform. “Why is that?”

He
shrugged. “I really couldn't tell you. It might be because they
have a reputation for being thieves.”

I
glanced around. “So what should we help with?” I asked.

“
Last
year I helped hang the lanterns,” he said. “Maybe we
could do the same thing this year.” He led me across the
clearing, and behind the platform, where a group of people had
already gathered. They stood by while a middle-aged man turned a key
in the lock of a short door that must've led into a storage area. As
soon as the door was open, he began to take out many dusty lanterns
one by one.

A
pile of rags was laid nearby, so like the others, Roland and I
grabbed one and started to wipe off the dust and cobwebs, making the
lanterns look good as new.

“
How
often are these lanterns used?” I asked, studying the filthy
cloth.

“
By
the looks of it, I'd guess only on the summer solstice,” he
answered.

I'd
thought that we were done after the first few we did, but the
middle-aged man kept going back in for more lanterns until their
number was at least a hundred.