Chapter Seventeen: First Love

"Why does she get to ride on the cart?" Galvan said.

"Because you're a fine horseman and she's not," Ette said. "I’m sure if you want to switch places with her, she'll be game…"

"No, it's fine…"

Things had been like that ever since they'd headed out. The original plan had been to spend another night in Wayfair, but after what had happened at the old abbey, they'd decided to leave the city that night and rough it somewhere they wouldn't be executed for heresy, possessing forbidden blood, or slaughtering a dozen monks and brother-knights. This had gotten Val and Galvan off on the wrong foot, and he'd been complaining about it ever since.

Galvan was light-skinned and dark-eyed like his father but, at fourteen, was already taller than him, though he was far less broad. His face reminded Val of Ginn's attentive, kind countenance. But Galvan happened to be a little snot (or a tall snot, Val supposed). She wondered how this boy was the product of Ette and Ginn.

"I can't believe you let her sleep in my bed."

Ette sighed. "It wasn't your bed anymore, Galv…"

"Galvan…"

"It's a moot point, Galvan. It's none of our beds now, on account of I've sold the place and I'm damn lucky to have gotten what I got for it, too. If you're that unhappy, you're free to turn around and go back to Wayfair. I'm sure your uncle will be happy to have you back in the shop."

Val wondered why Galvan had decided to come along to begin with if he was so unhappy about it. She was sure he loved his father in his own way, but the two of them didn't seem especially warm with one another. He didn't know how good he had it, having two parents who wanted him around and having an apprenticeship already lined up in Verdenlecht. Some people were just complainers, she supposed.

"Why are we pulling off the main road?" Galvan asked. This wasn't really a complaint - Val had the same question queued up.

"I figure we should stop a bit short of the border - they'll not check us as closely first thing in the morning and we could all use the rest. There's a campground just up this way that we can make use of."

The campground was already occupied by a group of Sheore Travelers, that group of wandering traders and performers who sometimes showed up in markets to do shows and peddle curiosities from afar. When among themselves, they wore strange clothes, spoke a strange language, and worshipped strange gods, though many of them carried jewelry and symbols of the Pale Order because it would get them better treatment. They were perhaps even more persecuted than the followers of the Old Sudren faith, at least in Wayfair.

They were also very good at music and dancing. Val desperately wanted to join their group, but first they had to make camp.

Ette and Galvan showed Val how to make a campfire, which seemed a bit silly since the Sheore were already having a rollicking time around their big stone hearth. Plus, Val could just read a magic book to figure out how to use her Gift to summon a flame, no flint, steel, or tinder required.

"You know well you can't use your Gift just anywhere," Ette said. "If you let it become a crutch, then it will control you, and I know damn well that you don't like being controlled."

Val had to admit that was a pretty accurate assessment of her personality and a pretty astute observation about the reality of being Gifted. So she learned to build a fire the old fashioned way and they ate their meals before wandering over to the travelers to talk and trade. She also almost got her pocket picked by a nine-year-old boy. She managed to catch his wrist just as he started to make his getaway.

"Somebody willing to huddle up with a band of Sheore on a clear winter night isn't going to be the easiest to pickpocket," she said. The boy yelped and struggled to pull free - and his family laughed when they saw that Val had caught him but meant him no harm. "Tell you what… let me see what you've got to trade and maybe you can come across some coins the honest way."

"Pickpocketing's honest if you nick money from folks that came across theirs dishonestly…"

"I got mine by helping to catch people who needed catching," Val said - though this was only partly true. Ginn gave Val one percent of the money that she and Ette brought in for her help as their assistant, which amounted to about five pfennigs a week. Beyond that, she'd give Val money whenever she needed something and had a good reason for it. In return, Val was supposed to give half of whatever she earned on the side back to Ginn, which was usually a lot less than what she got for free. She figured it was one of Ginn's several schemes to keep Val out of trouble and, more often than not, it worked. But when it didn't work, it really didn't work.

"You take bounties on Sheore?" the boy asked.

Val shrugged. "My uncle never has since I've been working with him. I suppose we would if they'd done something bad…"

"Some people think being Sheore is bad enough," the boy said.

"Yeah, but it isn't. Plenty of people don't like me on account of who I am, either, and they can go suck a big egg through a small tube. So do you want to trade or what?"

As an orphan, Val had long ago learned the secret to successful trading - and, among seasoned traders, it could be an entertaining and productive experience. It wasn't about swindling people or convincing them that they needed something they really didn't… though that could be its own kind of fun. No, it was about figuring out what they didn't value but you did and what you didn't value but they did. That way, everybody won and everybody was happy.

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The main downside was that, in a world that operated mostly by coin, everybody valued coin in exactly the same way. Fortunately, the Sheore had lots of things and Ette had lots of things, so there was plenty of good trading to be had, and you got to learn a lot about a person based on what they wanted to trade for. For instance, Galvan traded three belts and a pair of gloves from his leatherworking 'portfolio' - not the finest pieces in his collection, but pretty decent by anybody's standard - for an old fiddle in good condition. He knew how to play it, too, though not half as well as the girl he'd bought it off of.

Oh my. And he and the girl were getting quite friendly. And there Ette was just sitting there, sharing a bottle of wine with her parents, and he didn't even care. No… no, he did care. He was taking covert glances every few minutes. He was being subtle about it, though.

"You got any jewelry?" one of the girls asked Val - her name was Jasil. She was maybe a year older than Val with midnight-dark hair and hazel eyes and skin like burnished bronze. Her lips hid a sad smile.

"Not for trade, no," Val said. She removed her mother's silver pendant from under her shirt, turning it over in the lantern-light. It was the size of the tip of her pinkie finger, a little silver seashell of some sort. Pudge had looked it up in a book once upon a time and declared it to be a conch and Val figured he was right. "My ma gave this to me before she died."

"It's pretty," Jasil said. "I got more jewelry if you want to trade…" she flashed her fingers in front of Val - she had at least one ring on each finger and most had more. "Follow me."

Something giddy in Val's stomach told her this was a good plan, so she followed the girl back to one of the tents and crouched inside. Jasil lit a lantern and then unlocked a polished wood box, showing Val the contents in the ruddy lanternlight. Everything inside looked golden in the light, even the silver. Even the cheap pewter with its inlaid glass rhinestones. Jasil took a brass bracelet glittering with semiprecious stones and slipped it over Val's wrist.

Val ran her finger along the cool metal. "I haven't got much to trade. Most of our stuff belongs to my uncle and, uh, cousin…"

When Val moved to return the bracelet, Jasil stopped her. "You can keep that one - it looks good on you. Payment for a night when I got somebody beyond my brother and little cousin to talk to. What about skills? Seems like a smart girl, like you must know a thing or two…"

"Pottery, herbalism, and clockwork… got a clock I can fix? And I'm pretty good in a scrap, pretty good at getting into trouble… oh, and I can harden leather…"

Jasil's eyes went wide. "You got the Gift?"

"Oh.. wait… I shouldn't have said that," Val said quickly. "Pretend I didn't say it…"

Jasil grabbed her arm just past the bracelet. "Too late! Show me how…"

"You've got to have the Gift…"

"I have - since last year. And I got nobody to teach me. Only my pa knows, and he doesn't want me to tell anybody… but since you already got it, I figure it's fine to say…"

Val pursed her lips and gradually took her arm back. "You sure you got it?"

"If you've got it, you know," Jasil said. "You know that, having the Gift and all. It's like a little buzz… a little push in your head when there's magic about. Out in the woods, there's still places that got the old magic. Like this past summer, right after I got it, I felt the buzz, and I wandered out and found a fairy circle way out in the woods, and now when I dream, I see these patterns… look, I engraved one on my pewter ring."

Val had to admit it was a beautiful pattern. It was imperfect, but it approximated one of the magical symbols you might find in an Old Sudren magic book. If Jasil didn't have the Gift, she was a heck of a liar.

"If you've got access to some standard herbs, I'll show you how to harden leather, but you'll have to practice a lot before you're as good as me on account of I've done it for weeks. And I'll want something for it…"

"Three pieces," Jasil said…

"Three that I choose, not including the bracelet, which you already gave me…"

"Three you pick, but just from the box - I'm really attached to some of the ones I'm wearing…"

"Of course," Val said.

"Now we've got to kiss on it," Jasil said.

"Wha-" was all Val said, because then Jasil leaned in and kissed Val right on the lips.

Jasil must have known a little of her Gift already, because there was something magical in that kiss. Val felt any urge to pull away, to sputter in annoyance and indignation, utterly evaporate. She sighed and sank into the blankets that lined the floor of the tent. Jasil was on top of her, warm and smelling of pine of woodfire, and her lips were so soft. And her tongue… Val didn't know what to do with her own tongue. Should she pull it back? Push it forward? The tips of their tongues brushed past one another, and it was like Val could taste Jasil's spirit as it roiled within her like a tempest, a little spark of energy along a thread between them. Jasil's hand was on her back and moving down… Val pulled away.

"Uh…" she said. "You… you lot don't really kiss to close deals, do you?"

"Only sometimes," Jasil said. "You're mad… look… please don't tell my pa…"

"I'm not going to tell your pa. I… I liked it," Val said.

"You did?" The hope glimmered back to life in Jasil's eyes.

Val nodded. Her cheeks were on fire. "Mind you, I've got no reference for comparison. But if your average kiss was that nice, then I figure people would do it all the time. I… uh… I'll show you leather hardening, and then maybe we can, you know… kiss again to finish the deal? I figure that'll make it proper."

"We've got to be proper," Jasil agreed. She took Val's hand in hers… it was so warm… and showed her to her auntie's herb chest.

Val showed Jasil how to harden leather, and Jasil managed to get a little splotchy hardening on her very first try… it was about as well as Val had done her first time, so that was probably a good sign. Though she wouldn't have Ginn around to offer pointers and she didn't know Old Sudric, which Val told her she'd need to know to get really good at anything magical. Val gave her advice, but Jasil heard maybe a quarter of it - she was too busy being ecstatic that she'd made most of a chit of leather a little bit harder.

Val took her hand and gave it a little squeeze. "You've got to be smart about who knows you can do this. You understand?"

"I understand. My world's harder than yours," Jasil said.

Val laughed. "Don't pretend to know my life and I won't pretend to know yours. I killed four people earlier today… I… I killed people…"

"You're… oh… you're not joking. Hell's bells… oh… shh… please stop crying." Jasil said. Not knowing what else to do, she pulled Val into another kiss, probably because it had worked so well the last time.

And it did work - at least it got Val to stop crying and lean into the kiss. She couldn't be mad with those soft lips on hers, with her stomach doing little flips and her toes tingling. She backed away and took a deep breath. "I… can you forget I said that? About the… you know…" She touched her lip… she could still feel Jasil's kiss lingering there like a soft breeze.

"I already forgot it."

Val nodded. "Thanks for the jewelry…" her voice dropped to a whisper… "and the kiss. Kisses. I should go. Come visit me when you're in Verdenlecht? I can show you more magic?"

"Shouldn't be but a few weeks," Jasil said. "Maybe we can, you know… trade more?"

Val giggled - more trades meant more kissing, and she was very on board with that. "I'll have so much to trade," she said. "Bye."

Jasil pecked her on the lips. Oh, her lips were so soft. "Bye," she said.

"Bye."

Finally, Val pulled herself away and walked back to camp with a spring in her step. Ette was still sitting around their fire, adding more wood to keep them warm for a few hours yet. His knowing grin as she approached suggested he knew exactly what had just transpired between her and Jasil. But he said not a word of it.