She had been with the circus for almost a month, and she was helping an acrobat pack up their caravan in preparation for the next move, when the owner finally called her in.
She had learnt from Washesblack that his real name was Rosesweet, and that Dragonclaw had been the name of the original circus owner, long gone to earth, the name of the circus his memorial.
She had seen him around, in his bright coat and shiny black hat, and had steadfastly avoided him. She didn’t want to be chased out of the first place she had been able to call home in almost four years.
But, she had been summoned, so it was time to face the music. Heart in her throat, Dreamspears knocked on the door of his caravan, her metaphorical hat in her hands and her head down.
“Come in.” The voice was sharp and no-nonsense, and she opened the door and shuffled in, trying to make herself look small. The caravan wasn’t any bigger than anybody else's, there was a limit to what horses could move, but it was much more richly decorated than any of the others she had been inside, which weren’t many.
She didn’t see much of it though, with her eyes on her feet.
Across the end of the caravan, Rosesweet was standing, his hands behind his back, like a headteacher.
“Dreamspears, right?” She nodded, eyes still on her feet.
“Oh for the love of…” He walked over to her, and she flinched backwards, a part of her mind noting where the door was, and that she’d closed it behind herself. Stupid.
He stopped, taking a step back, and she risked a glance at his face. He was frowning. That wasn't good!
“Look at me, kid.” She glanced up at him for a moment, before putting her head back down. Her shoes were ragged, she noted, she ought to replace them. They hadn’t been in good shape even before she walked between cities.
He sighed, and she heard a creak as he sat down on the edge of his bed, and she risked another glance. He had his hands on his knees and was still frowning at her, but he seemed tired and sad, rather than angry. She didn’t know what to make of that, and wasn't sure she wanted to find out. It had been a while since she'd last been called before authority, but it had never gone well for her.
Rosesweet cleared his throat, “Sal tells me you’ve been taking good care of the goats, for almost a month now?”
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She nodded, unable to speak around the lump in her throat. She wrung her hands together, twisting her fingers into knots and wishing she had an actual hat she could hold to distract herself.
The circus owner was silent for a moment, then he slowly reached across the caravan, picking up an envelope off the table. It was made of sturdy brown paper, and he held it out to her. The caravan was small, and he leant towards her without getting up. After a moment's hesitation, she reached out a hand, taking it gingerly.
“That's your pay for the month," he retracted his empty hand, "plus an extra week to get you on schedule. You can pick it up from me around the end of each month, before we move out, ok?”
She nodded again, clutching the envelope to her chest. It was bulky in her hands, and she could feel coins inside. He sat, his body very still and his expression unreadable.
His voice was quiet as he spoke, “you’re friends with Brightfeather and Berrygreen, right?”
A nod. “Yessir.”
“If you’d rather, I can give it to one of them to pass on to you, if you’d like?”
“Brightfeather, please” she struggled to get the words out. He wasn’t mad at her, he wasn’t even threatening, everyone in the circus said he was very nice, why did she want to run so much?
He sighed. “That seems more convenient, then. Welcome to the family, kid.”
He gestured towards the door, and she fled, shoving the envelope up her shirt as she left.
She didn't pause as she left the caravan, heading back towards the goat pen at a trot, but she did let out the breath it felt like she’d been holding the whole time she was in there, every muscle in her torso aching as if she’d run a marathon. In the back of the pen, she made sure the envelope was carefully hidden beneath her shirt, so that nobody would see it and take it away from her.
She opened it later, hiding under somebody or other's home. The trailer above her was painted a bright red and yellow, and from this angle, she could see that the under-floor needed some maintenance. She’d let somebody know later.
The envelope contained almost nineteen shillings, in varying coinage. The largest amount of money she had ever held. All this just for looking after some goats for a month? On the streets, she had been lucky if she could scrounge a couple of pennies a day.
She would have to chip in money now for food, and pay the others back for what she had borrowed over the past month, but…
She was definitely gonna buy herself some better fitting clothing, and some new shoes!
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That evening she paid the others back. It took over half the money, but she’d been poor for too long not to take note when somebody lent her money. She discovered that the other three teenagers had a shared pot into which they put cash for food. As she contributed a share to that, she was grateful that they hadn’t asked anything of her before now.
She hid the rest of the coinage in the bottom of her backpack. She would spend it tomorrow. She had learnt what happened to those who tried to save, and she didn’t want to lose it to somebody stronger and older. Washesblack, Berrygreen and Brightfeather were good people, but they weren’t the only ones in the camp.
That night she slept next to Berrygreen, under a red and yellow caravan, her head resting on her backpack, and she was happy.