Embrace The Twilight. Maggie Shayne

bit of fabric, cut in the shape of a perfect circle, upon Belinda’s chest. Then, she took one side of the cloth, and her sister took the other, and they wrapped Belinda in it as carefully as they would have wrapped a baby, leaving only her head and her bare feet uncovered.

      “I intended to use that bolt of cloth to make a dress for her,” Melina whispered. “Now it becomes her shroud.” She unfolded the clothing she had brought, turning the blouse and skirt inside out before refolding them carefully and stacking them beside her daughter’s body.

      The little fire had died to smoking remains by the time they had finished. Katerina leaned over the water pail to scrub her hands.

      “There should be more light,” Melina whispered. “We mustn’t let her lie in the dark this way.”

      “My work here is done,” Katerina said, straightening and wiping her hands on her skirts. “I’m returning to camp. I’ll send someone back with lanterns.”

      Melina only nodded, not even watching her go. When the sounds of her footsteps died away, she glanced at Sarafina. “You may as well go, too. I’ll watch over her until morning.”

      “I’m staying with you,” Sarafina replied. “I won’t leave you alone.”

      Melina lifted her head, met Fina’s eyes, and for a moment seemed to be searching them. Almost as if she were not entirely comfortable staying alone with her. It was dark in the hardwood forest. Oaks and elms towered around them, and the ground was thick with ferns and weeds. Only that single torch spilled a circle of pale light around the two of them, and it was burning low. The night was silent, eerily so.

      Then Melina glanced past her, at a sound from one of the young men who stood guard, and she seemed to relax a bit. Sarafina sat down on the ground beside the slender body wrapped in red cloth and wondered why anyone, even a demon, would want to murder her cousin so cruelly.

       I didn’t kill her, I set her free, and deep down you know it’s true.

      Sarafina’s head rose with a snap at the clear sound of a man’s voice. A man she knew full well was not her beloved spirit. “Who is that?”

      Melina paused in her rocking. “What are you talking about?”

      “That voice. Didn’t you hear it?” She got to her feet, brushing the twigs from her skirts and staring at the woods around her, every sense on full alert, her very skin prickling and aware. There was laughter then, deep, ringing laughter. “There,” she whispered. “Don’t you hear that?”

      “I hear nothing, Sarafina,” the old woman said. She got up, as well, backing a few steps away from the younger girl. “Perhaps…you should go back to camp.”

      “No. It’s out here. I can’t leave you alone.”

       That’s right. I’m here. But you know deep down it’s not the old woman I want. It’s you, Sarafina. It’s always been you. Leave this band of traitors and come to me.

      “No!” she cried, pressing her hands to her ears. “Leave me alone! Leave me alone!” She turned to run away, but collided instantly with a hard chest and looked up and into Andre’s concerned eyes. Sobbing, she clung to him, burying her face against his chest.

      But she stiffened when she heard the voice of her sister. “What is going on?”

      Blinking, Sarafina lifted her head from Andre and looked around until she spotted her sister standing a few feet away, aglow in light. She sniffed and hoped none of the tears remained on her cheeks. “I thought you were staying in camp.”

      “I decided to help Andre bring the lanterns.” She glanced down at the glowing lanterns she carried, one in each hand.

      Pulling away from Andre, Sarafina saw that he, too, carried lanterns. She understood then why his arms hadn’t come around her hard and fast as they usually did.

      “What’s wrong?” he asked.

      “Nothing. Nothing, I-I’m afraid, that’s all.”

      “Take her back to camp, Andre,” Melina said. “Take her and go. Katerina will sit vigil with me until sunrise.”

      “But I can stay. I’m fine,” Sarafina said.

      The old woman only shook her head, even as Andre set his lanterns down on the ground and put an arm around Sarafina, gently leading her away.

      Sarafina knew perfectly well that old Melina was going to tell her sister everything that had happened. It would only be more ammunition for Katerina to use against her. She wouldn’t be happy until she was the sole Shuvani of the tribe. She knew Sarafina, though younger, was better, stronger, more talented-and she couldn’t stand it.

      Andre helped her back to her vardo, and she climbed inside, tired to her very bones. It would be dawn soon. And yet she couldn’t go to sleep, not just yet.

      “Would you like me to stay with you, watch over you while you sleep?” he asked.

      Sarafina shook her head. “No. I want…I want to be alone.” She didn’t, not really. She wanted to feel the reassuring presence of her guide, her angel. She wanted to hear his voice again-clearly enough so she could listen while he explained all this to her. What was happening to her? To her life? To her tribe? And why?

      “Something frightened you out there tonight, Fina. Won’t you tell me what it was?”

      Again she shook her head. “Everyone is afraid of…whatever sort of creature killed poor Belinda. And the others before her. Why should I be different?”

      “I don’t know. It seemed like…more than just fear.”

      “Now you sound like my sister. I suppose you suspect me of being in league with demons, as well?”

      “Of course not.” He stroked her hair lovingly. “Get some sleep, Fina. You don’t look well.”

      “I will. Good night, Andre.”

      He leaned close, kissed her mouth briefly, then turned and left her alone. Sarafina didn’t go to bed. She closed her tent flap carefully and went to the small table in the center of her home. Her hands trembled as she unwound the silk from around the crystal ball. When it was uncovered, she sat down before it, in the darkness, and gazed into its depths. She let her mind go still, let her vision slip out of focus, let her eyelids grow heavy. She had never tried to summon her spirit this way before. But suddenly she was moved to try. “Come to me, my beloved. Come to me, for I need your wisdom now. Tell me, what is my destiny?” she asked. “If it is true I am linked to some demon, how may I break the curse?”

      The crystal clouded and then the cloud vanished, and instead she saw a person take shape before her. A man. He was darkly handsome, though not a Rom. His hair was wet, dripping, and his shirt was torn open to reveal a ghastly scar on his chest.

      As she stared at this vision, wondering at it, he lifted his head and looked right into her eyes. He looked at her-through her. And she knew him. “I have seen you before,” she whispered. “Who are you?” But even as she asked, she knew the answer. This man was her guide, her spirit, the voice who spoke to her, the presence who walked with her. But why was he wet, and so battered? Was he the ghost of some martyr who had died for his cause?

      He only kept staring, clinging to her eyes as if by sheer will. There were men around him, men in foreign robes and headdresses, and they were hurting him. Branding his flesh with hot irons.

      Sarafina’s heart twisted in her chest, her palms pressing to either side of the crystal as if she could make the torture stop, but the man never flinched. His eyes held hers through the glass.

      Then the crystal clouded over again, and he was gone.

      Fina sat back, breathless and sick to her stomach. He was not the demon who hunted among her tribe. She knew that without much thought at all. He was her spirit. Her spirit had a face now. But why was he so tormented? He hadn’t, during those moments when they had held each other’s eyes in the