“Don’t worry, Petra,” said the woman in a musical voice that gave no hint of an accent. “It’s a nice way to be greeted. If everyone thought of me as a sister my life would be a very happy one indeed. My name is Sadira, but you can call me Sadie. After all, we are now like family. Neel says that he stole your purse, but that you didn’t turn him over to the law. I’m not sure which I find harder to believe: that you caught him or that he’s not now rotting in a jail cell.” She frowned at her brother. “You shouldn’t take such risks, Neel.”
“I didn’t!” he protested. “She was easy prey! She was flashing where she kept her purse to all and sundry, and wasn’t paying attention to anything but a beggar girl! If I hadn’t pinched her purse, someone else would’ve.”
“Obviously she’s not such easy prey, if she managed to catch you.”
“But how could I know that?” He spread his hands. “She looked fresh from the hills, like it was her first day in Prague.”
“Well, it is,” Petra admitted. “I’m hoping to find work here.”
“Yes, Neel said you wanted to meet me. He said you seemed interested that I work at the castle. Is there something I can do? I would like to repay you for keeping my little brother’s neck out of the hangman’s noose.” Sadie pinched Neel’s cheek hard and he made a face.
“Could you help me get a job at the castle?”
At that moment, Petra felt Astrophil flutter on her ear. Petra, I—he began. Then he fell, tumbling over her shoulder like a shooting star. Petra snagged him out of the air and stared with a panicky feeling at the spider on her palm.
Sadie and Neel peered in amazement at the spider. “What is it?” Sadie breathed.
“What’s it doing?” asked Neel. The spider’s legs were twitching.
“I think …” Relief flowed over Petra like cool water as she suddenly realized what Astrophil’s problem was. “I think he’s sleeping.”
12
The Clearing in the Forest
CLEARLY, some sort of explanation had to be given. Astrophil was oblivious to the problem he had just caused. His legs continued to wave in the air as he dreamed spidery dreams. Neel reached out to touch one of Astrophil’s legs with his ghost fingers. “What do you mean, he’s sleeping? Looks more like dancing to me.”
Sadie looked up at Petra. “Well? Will you tell us what it—he—is? Or would you prefer to keep your secrets?”
Somehow, the fact that Sadie was offering Petra the chance to put Astrophil in her pocket and not say another word made Petra want to tell them everything. But a stable boy was already looking in their direction with far too much curiosity. “Not here,” Petra said. “Can we go someplace more private?”
Neel spoke to Sadie in Romany. She nodded. “Join us for the midday meal, Petra, if you like. This is my day off. Neel came to walk home with me. These days, we live on the other side of this large hill, down in the forest. There we can talk openly about your silver spider and finding work for you. Come meet our family. If, of course”—for the first time she looked awkward —“you want to.”
Petra tucked Astrophil in her pocket. “Let’s go.”
• • •
THE FOREST ON the other side of the hill was thick, and had provided many generations of Bohemian princes with good hunting. Petra saw several deer as they walked among the trees. Acorns crunched beneath their feet. It didn’t seem to Petra that they were following a trail, but Neel and Sadie strode ahead confidently.
Soon, the smell of burning wood and roasting meat teased Petra. They heard the bell-like sound of a hammer on an anvil. When they reached a clearing in the forest, Petra saw ten large wagons ringed around a campfire. A dog with fanged teeth ran up to them, barking. He licked Neel’s and Sadie’s hands. Petra stood stock-still while he sniffed hers.
Several children wearing brightly dyed clothes were clustered in a group near the campfire, building a house out of stones, sticks, and tree bark. A woman in a full-skirted orange dress was roasting a haunch of venison on a spit over the fire. She looked at them with surprise, and seemed to ask Neel and Sadie a question.
The musical ringing stopped, and a muscular man with a short beard and a gold hoop in one ear appeared from behind a wagon. He held the hammer in his lowered left hand. His intense stare swept over Petra. Then, ignoring her and Neel, he turned to Sadie. He was smiling, but something he said made her face pinch with anger. She replied shortly and stalked to the largest wagon. She opened the door and stepped inside, slamming it shut behind her.
The man looked at Petra with open hostility. Neel said something to him in a voice that was amused but not nice. The man shrugged as if to say, “It’s your problem, then,” and sauntered away. They soon heard again the ringing of metal on metal, but this time the beats were quicker and louder.
“What was that all about?” Petra asked Neel.
“Emil ain’t happy you’re here.”
“I could’ve figured that out on my own. What did he say to Sadie to make her upset?”
“He called her a rawnie”
“What’s that mean?”
“It means a lady, very high-class.”
“That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Yeah, but you use it to mean an outsider. Sadie’s father was a gadje, you see. Normally there’d be problems with her being fully accepted by any tribe except the Kalderash, because they’re all mixed up anyway from the start. But our ma’s the leader, so everyone’s got to treat Sadie like she’s one and the same as a full-blooded Roma.”
“Your mother’s the leader of the Lovari?”
“Are you kidding? Look around: there’s thirty-nine of us here. Well, not now. Most of us are working in the city. Some are hunting or gathering mushrooms and nuts and berries. Thirty-nine isn’t the whole Lovari tribe. My ma’s just the leader of our group.”
“Why is Emil here, then, and not off hunting or working?”
“You might’ve noticed that Roma aren’t exactly the most popular people around. Some people don’t like our color, some people don’t like our ways, and some people … well, we’ve got to have enough warrior types around at all times. Emil isn’t the friendliest sort you’ll come across, but he’s got brains and is good with a sword and dagger. He’s always had a problem with Sadie, though, and that’s a hard thing to figure. You’ve seen her: she’s as sweet as an apple. I can’t figure why he doesn’t like her.”