The Dream-Maker's Magic Read Online Free PDF Page B

explain some things to you. Nothing is wrong with you. Everything is just fine. You’re just—you’re just a young girl, that’s all, and this is one of the things that happens to young girls. It’s a good thing, really it is. Oh, I’m so glad you were here and I could take care of you.”
    I was glad of that, too, so relieved to not be facing the prospect of death that I could forgive my mother for not warning me about this most curious fact of life. Betsy didn’t forgive her, though; I could tell. Betsy never said a word against my mother—or, indeed, against anyone else—in my hearing. But I could tell she thought my mother unnatural, even cruel. It gave me some comfort to know that, if there was an odd creature living in my house, Betsy did not think I was the strange one. Betsy thought I was an ordinary girl.

    Up until Wintermoon, there were only three times Gryffin and I missed our twice-weekly visit to the Parmer homestead. Once was when the whole Parmer house was down with influenza and Sarah warned us not to come over. Once was when my mother caught the very same infection, and I had to stay home to nurse her.
    Once was when Gryffin was in too much pain to go.
    I hadn’t thought much about it that morning when I stopped at his uncle’s tavern on my way to school. Usually Gryffin was waiting for me outside, or just inside the door on cold days. This morning he was nowhere in sight, and it was a good ten minutes before someone answered my pounding at the back door. Taverns tended to be open late at night, so those who staffed it were not traditionally early risers. I knew it, but I kept knocking anyway. Eventually the door was opened by Gryffin’s aunt, a thin, hollow-eyed woman with stringy hair. She was wearing a nightdress and looked ill-tempered.
    â€œWhat do you want?” she snapped.
    â€œGryffin. I walk to school with him.”
    Her face softened a bit; she actually looked sad. “Oh. I’m afraid he won’t be going to school today.”
    â€œWhy not? Is he sick?”
    She hesitated a moment before answering. “His legs are bothering him, that’s what,” she said. “He can’t walk that far.”
    I hitched my book bag on my shoulder. “Well—should I come by tonight? And see how he’s doing? I can bring his assignments so he won’t fall behind.”
    â€œI don’t know if he’ll be much better tonight,” she said doubtfully.
    â€œI’ll come by anyway,” I said. “Just to see.”
    â€œIf you want to,” she said, and shut the door in my face.
    At school, I told Sarah that Gryffin was unavailable for the evening tutoring session but that I hoped he’d be well in a couple of days. At lunch and during the play periods, I lurked in the shadows of the schoolhouse, hoping to escape attention. Two of the little girls whom Gryffin tutored came and sat with me, and that was all right. Carlon and his friends didn’t usually bother me if I had any audience at all. But the girls insisted on playing some elaborate imaginary game that involved them meeting a prince at some Summermoon ball. This required them to describe in great detail the fabulous dresses they would wear at the event, and I was really quite bored. At the afternoon break, I spent the entire period teaching them how to throw a rock with enough accuracy that they could actually hit something ten yards away, and I, at least, enjoyed that much more.
    After school, I gathered up my books, accepted Gryffin’s assignment from Mr. Shelby, and headed back to the tavern. No one answered my knock this time, either, but I knew the household was up. It was early afternoon, but people were already coming into the tavern for an afternoon drink or an early dinner. No doubt Gryffin’s aunt and uncle were too busy to even hear me.
    I pushed experimentally at the door and found it unlocked, so I opened it and stepped