Young Writers Society

I’d almost made it to my room before Diya saw me. She gave a loud accusing ‘ahem’ that made me jump on the last step before my door. Staring up judgmentally, she summoned me down. I took each step as slowly as I could.

“Where have you been?” she asked, her eyes narrow slits of suspicion. Her hair was tied out of her face by an old Hermes scarf. She was wearing her work dress and aprons, which made her look even bigger than usual.

“I went to feed the ducks at Gregon’s pond,” I said automatically. Gregon was a few years younger than me. He adored all animals and had a whole pond full of frogs and ducks and stuff. When I was younger I’d begged Diya for my own duck, but she’d never give in. Now I use it as an excuse whenever I can.

She stared at me. I waited for her to bite, wondering whether I’d used this excuse too much lately.

Then she nodded, though her eyes were still narrow slits. Time to think of a new excuse.

“Wait,” she said slowly. When I turned she was pointing to the sleeve of my white shirt, now full of dust and dirt stains. A long rip was threatening to separate the sleeve from the shirt. I pulled it up quickly, but it was too late.

“Oh, you know how playful Gregon gets,” I tried to laugh it off. “He pulled at my sleeve a bit to hard.”

“Huh,” she said, tongue in cheek. I could tell she didn’t believe me, but thankfully she let me go.

I just came back from Magorian. He said he’d keep Bevan safe and do all he could for the girl, but he wasn’t promising anything.

“Some healers have stubborn opinions,” he’d said, “but I think I know someone who could help.

When I’d first told him he looked at me all quizzically. I wanted to tell him about crossing the barrier twice and not only once, but I couldn’t bring myself to do that. I had no desire to cross over the barrier again.

I changed silently in my room, running my finger over the mark around my navel. What’ll Bevan do once he’s allowed back at association?

Once I finished I went down to help Diya with dinner. It was almost dark by now.

Diya sent me to get some water from the well.

The hubbub in the town was rising again. Some younger children were busy with an old ballgame I used to love. Grown-ups sat outside on wooden stools they dragged out to watch them, playing merrily in the dusk. Others headed straight for Blakeman’s Pub at the end of the road. Bevan and some of his more sinister friends once smuggled a whole bottle of Dry Ale from Blakeman’s private stash and refused to give me any. They told me girls weren’t supposed to drink and that I’d probably faint at one drop. I was so angry I grabbed the bottle and downed half, resulting in a severe hiding from Diya and a skull-splitting headache.

Now Bevan was somewhere in the forest, probably cold and lonely. I thought back to the peck he gave me earlier. It had just been to say thank you. It didn’t mean anything really, though I wanted it to.

Much to my irritation, I met Marietta at the well again. She looked kind of tearful, and turned ferociously to me when realized I was there.

“Where is he?” she asked.

“Who?” I asked, lowering my bucket into the cold water.

She rolled her eyes and stepped closer in what she obviously thought was a threatening gesture. I almost laughed.

“Where is Bevan?” she sobbed dramatically.

“How should I know?” I said, looking back to my bucket, which was now full. I started back home, but Marietta stepped in front of me.

“Don’t give me that rot!” she said, her voice rising to a pitch which could’ve made glass explode. “I know you two are close friends, though I can’t understand why.”

I sighed and looked her straight in the eye, “Don’t you think I’d want to know where he is?” I said, making my voice sound as though I was on the verge of tears, although I haven’t cried since I was five.

She gave me a disbelieving look, but as she opened her mouth again her friend took hold of her arm.

“She doesn’t know Marietta,” she said softly. This was confusing. None of Marietta’s friends had ever come up for me.

Marietta sniffed and turned with an exaggerated wheel. She and her friend stalked off, muttering.

I stared after them.