Page 13 of A Dance With Fire
It was acceptance. Broken acceptance, but acceptance just the same. And hadn’t Shula dreamt of this? Of a life with no barriers, with a friend who would know what she so deeply hid and who would take her hands anyway and smile like nothing had changed? They would never be the same now that Fanny knew the truth, but a monumental weight had shifted from her shoulders.
And shifted to her heart.
That, like everything else in her life, could be hidden behind unfeeling walls of lies and treachery. Nothing else mattered right then but Fanny’s wide smile and her hands clutching Shula’s, like she could ground their friendship to the earth with the strength of her grip.
Like, all things considered, she was just too afraid to let go.
* * *
“I need to go see Davina.”Shula settled a new wrap over her shoulders. She’d changed into a simple white tunic, brown pants, and sensible boots. She usually didn’t wear such practical clothing, as it took away from the illusion of the illustrious Fire Dancer, but all her stage outfits were revealing, and she didn’t want anyone to see her scars bleed through the bandages on her back. She still kept the wrap, though. A sheer red material that made her feel pretty. Perhaps it was vain to want to feel that way, but with slashed flesh across her skin, it had her feeling some type of way.
Fanny looked at her warily. “Why?”
No more lies,Shula had promised only moments before. She would no longer lie about her life, but Davina’s secret wasn’t hers to tell. It was the one thing in her whole story she’d left out. She might have accidentally condemned herself and shared her secret, but she wouldn’t do the same to Davina. It had been difficult enough getting Fanny to keep her secret without having to drag the seer into it.
“She makes poultices and remedies. I am going to ask her for something for my nerves and my back...”
That answer seemed to satisfy Fanny, though Shula did have to admit, the woman looked a bit distracted anyway. She supposed it was because of the shock of what she’d found out. So much information about Shula’s troubled life would have upset anyone. To find out that your friend was on the run from the law couldn’t have been easy.
“Alright,” said Fanny. “I have to go get ready for my act.”
Shula didn’t comment on the fact that it was still daybreak outside and their acts didn’t start until another four hours. Fanny was already walking out of the tent, and Shula just watched her go, feeling a strange sense of tightness in her chest. Unable to explain why the sudden wrongness slithered down her spine, she pushed it away and went out in search of Davina.
The camp was finally beginning to stir. Shula felt nervous walking among them. Everything felt different now that Fanny knew her secret. Her gaze darted everywhere, gauging the reactions of everyone around her, to see if they’d heard, if they’d witnessed. No one was looking at her any differently. They all were very cordial as she passed by. It seemed the only one changed was her. And Fanny.
She made it to Davina’s tent and didn’t bother announcing her presence. Why would she when the Fae had great hearing? She walked in and Davina was already waiting for her. Tea had been set out on her small table, the strong smell of incense and herbs clouding the confined space.
The Fae appeared more coherent and in her full senses, which was a relief. She smiled her razor-sharp smile, but there was no malice in it. Only a sad, soft sort of calmness.
“I have been expecting you. Please, sit.”
Shula did as she bade, reaching for the teacup and saucer that had been set out for her across the table. She didn’t take a sip.
“What’s happening to me?” she demanded on a low voice.
Davina picked up her own teacup and sipped, giving her a pointed glance. Sighing, Shula picked up her cup and drank it all in one swallow. The bursting taste of herbs exploded on her tongue, and she regretted it immediately because the tea was scalding hot. Perhaps her own fire could never burn her, but other things could.
“Tea should be enjoyed.” When Shula placed the cup back down, Davina was already topping it off again. “So, enjoy it.”
This time, she did. She brought it to her lips and blew before taking a dainty sip.
Davina seemed pleased with this. She set her own cup on its saucer and interlaced her fingers together above the table. “What do you want to know?” Her words sounded mocking and strangely echoed what Shula had asked Fanny about an hour ago, but she ignored the seer’s tone.
“What happened to me?”
“My dear, didn’t your parents tell you anything at all?”
“No,” Shula gritted out. “They died before they could get the chance.”
Davina didn’t look sorry at all that she’d asked. She didn’t look moved, either. There was always a coldness about her. Most of the older Fae wore that same expression. As if nothing and no one, no emotion or anything could ever touch them. Shula had only ever met a few older Fae in her lifetime. Before the Fae registrations and reservations. Before the camps. Before death.
“My dear, you are an Elemental.”
Shula blinked. “I know.” That was the one thing her father had told her. Her parents had been normal Fae, neither of them with any powers beyond the typical ability to glamor. It was a talent all Fae were born with, and a talent that worked mostly on humans. A Fae could glamor themselves to look more beautiful, alter their own appearance, but they could not seduce another Fae with that magic. Not all Fae had an extension of powers beyond that.
“Then you must know how rare the Elementals are?”
Shula didn’t know that.
