Lucifer's Daughter. V. J. Banis

her feelings of inferiority to herself. Now Elizabeth and Allyson and Margaret had still another reason to exclude her from their friendships. She had been singled out as being an evil person, a troublemaker. Elizabeth, of course, would say it was merely the ravings of a silly old gypsy woman, but deep down she’d hang on to those ravings and would let them color their relationship. Allyson would treat her more indifferently than before. She would smile and say she understood, but she’d retain that cool indifference she always had. And Margaret...well, Margaret would openly display her dislike for Julia.

      Julia’s heart was sinking. The vacation she’d put so much faith in had turned into a disaster. It would be useless to keep up appearances now. She’d tell them she was going home tomorrow. She knew she could never stay. She knew that to them she represented a hovering, black, damp cloud. She’d only make their vacation miserable. Yes, she’d go home tomorrow, she decided.

      Once outside in the clear night air, the smell of the sea and the feeling of the cold, salty breeze helped revive her somewhat. The old gypsy’s words continued to press on her, but now that she was away from the tent the words seemed less ominous. She stopped and turned back to look toward the tent. The nurse patted her hand. “Come along, dear. The first-aid station is just over here.”

      “Excuse me,” Julia said, easing herself from the nurse’s support. “I really am feeling quite all right. I do appreciate your concern, but I don’t think I need trouble you any longer. I’m fine now, really I am.”

      The nurse cocked her head and looked skeptical. Just then a man came hurrying toward them. “Nurse,” he called, “a little boy just fell off the carousel. You’d better come quick.”

      The nurse’s skepticism about leaving Julia vanished immediately. “I’ll get my bag, Hank,” she said as she started away. Then she stopped and turned back. “You’re sure you’re all right, honey?” she asked Julia.

      “Yes, fine. You’d better hurry. The boy might be seriously hurt. Don’t worry about me.”

      The nurse gave a quick nod and hurried off.

      “Well,” Margaret breathed. “I suppose we’ll have to see the evil one here back to the hotel before she gets into any more trouble.”

      Julia forced herself to be pleasant. “No, please,” she protested. “Please don’t bother about me. I don’t want to spoil your fun. You three go along. I can find my way back.”

      “Oh, no, Julie,” Elizabeth said. “We’ll come with you.”

      “Why?” Margaret asked. “Julia said she could navigate under her own steam. Why do we have to go with her? All she’s going to do is go to bed. I’m sure she can manage that without our help.”

      Julia forced herself to smile. “Of course I can. Please, Liz, go along. I can manage. I’m really feeling quite all right. Honest I am.”

      Elizabeth hesitated. “You’re sure?”

      “I’m sure. Go along with the others. I insist.”

      Margaret was the first to walk away. She walked to the far side of the boardwalk and stood looking out at the ocean. Allyson turned, but a little reluctantly. She glanced back at Julia. “Don’t pay any attention to that silly old gypsy woman,” Allyson said. “Get into bed, Julie. I’m sorry I suggested that roller coaster ride.” Then she too hurried away, going toward Margaret at the rail.

      It was Elizabeth who stood there debating with herself. “Oh, really, Julie. I feel terrible about all this. I insist I come with you back to the hotel. You may have another dizzy spell. You shouldn’t be left alone.”

      “Please, Liz. I’d rather be by myself. You go along with the others.” She glanced toward Margaret and Allyson. “Don’t keep them waiting.”

      Julia waited until the three had walked out of sight. She had no intention of returning to the hotel. The woolly mess had cleared up inside her head and she was thinking rationally again. And with the return of her rationality came the return of her strange little voices. She hadn’t realized they’d deserted her during her ordeal with the gypsy fortune teller until they started bickering among themselves. She wanted them to stop because their wrangling was interfering with her resolve.

      Forcing herself to ignore them, she fumbled in her purse and made certain she had what she needed. With hurrying steps she went back in the direction from which she’d come.

      The old gypsy wasn’t seated outside the tent. Julia found her huddled over the shattered crystal ball. She was mumbling to herself and handling the crystal fragments as though they were precious diamonds. Julia stood just inside the tent flap, waiting for the old woman to acknowledge her presence. When she did not, Julia cleared her throat.

      The old crone looked up. When she saw Julia standing there, she gave a start and got to her feet so quickly that the stool on which she had been sitting tipped over backward. The gypsy averted her eyes and swept her arm. “Go away.”

      “You must tell me what you saw,” Julia insisted.

      “No. I cannot. I will not. Go. Go.”

      “You called me evil. You say I am trouble. You’ve embarrassed me in front of my friends and even a stranger, and now you refuse to explain. I have no intention of going anywhere until you tell me what you believe to have seen.”

      “I saw what I saw. It was real enough. It was evil. You are evil.”

      Julia glowered at her. “Stop saying that! Tell me what you saw in that crystal ball. Why did it shatter?”

      “It shattered from the impact of the evil that was implanted into its depth. You brought Him into it.”

      “Him?” Julia frowned at her, remembering vaguely the image of the man’s face reflected in the dim glow of the ball. “Who was he? Who was the man?”

      “I cannot tell you that.”

      “You must. It was my future you saw. It had to do with me. I paid your fee. You owe it to me.”

      “Go away, child,” the gypsy said, her voice softening. Her words came out more in the tone of a plea than an order.

      Julia fumbled in her handbag and pulled out a large bill. “You must help me. Here, take this and tell me whatever it was you saw.”

      The old woman looked at the bill. Her hand trembled, then moved toward it. Suddenly she snatched her hand back. “No. You must never know the evil that lurks in your future. I cannot tell you. I will not tell you. It is for your own sake.”

      “I saw a strange man’s face in the crystal just before it shattered. Also, there was someone—a man—standing just behind me while you were entranced. Was it a trick you employed? You must tell me if this is all trickery. I must know.”

      The gypsy shook her head. “There is no trickery here. You saw what you saw. I cannot vouch for any strange being who might have taken shape near you. I have nothing to do with conjurations; they can only be accomplished by your own patterns of thought and with your own mind power...or by those more powerful than I.”

      Julia pulled another bill from her purse and shoved it into the gypsy’s hand. “If you will not help me, then please tell me who can. You see, I have never had a father or mother. My past is a blank. You are the first person who has given me any insight into my real self. All my life I have wondered who I was or what I am. You say I am evil. You say I am trouble. If that be the case, then at least put me on the right path so that I may be given the opportunity to avoid the evil you say I will do, the trouble I will cause. Help me. You must. You have the power. Please, help me.”

      The gypsy woman had been staring down at the dirt floor. When Julia finished her plea, the old woman slowly raised her eyes and gazed into Julia’s. She stared at her for several full minutes.

      “When I first laid my eyes on you,” the gypsy said, “I felt I’d seen you before somewhere, and I was afraid. I do not know why. There is something in your eyes to