Free First Light by Michele Paige Holmes Page B

hoping against hope he would stand up for me, that he would take my side.
    “Agreed.” His voice was quiet.
    Disappointed, but not surprised, I leaned my head against the side of the wagon. Once a snake, always a snake. From now on, I would be most wary of them— in all their varieties.

    It was the pearls that woke me the second time that night. I still held them in my hand, and their warmth had turned to burning against my skin. Holding my palm flat, I was grateful for their illumination. Outside the sky was pitch black, and it seemed I’d been locked in the dark forever.
    The conversation I’d heard earlier replayed in my mind, and I tried, as I had before drifting off to sleep, to make sense of it. What was it Gemine and the other man had said about the pearls? That I didn’t know their value, and that if I did, I wouldn’t still be here?
    That seemed quite silly. Of course I realized they were valuable— extraordinary, really, what with the way they glowed. And that was precisely why I was still here. Because I wasn’t willing to part with them. To be sure, there was something magical about them, but I couldn’t say what exactly. They’d warmed and glowed periodically since I’d had them in my possession, but I had no idea why they did that or what it meant. And, magical or not, with all the difficulty they’d caused in the last twenty-four hours, it was a wonder I didn’t bid them a happy farewell.
    But Merry Anne’s face, and especially her belief in me, wouldn’t let me give in. So here I sat. Cold and miserable, and without a plan or hope to escape.
    With considerable effort, I dragged my sore body up and balanced on my knees to peer out the barred window. Looking directly down, I could barely make out the heavy padlock and chain still in place. Apparently, though I’d willed it so, Gemine hadn’t had an attack of conscience in the middle of the night. Plucking the flower from my hair— the one he’d placed there earlier— I let it drop through the bars to the ground below. It was time I stopped hoping he would come and rescue me. He’d done his job as a charmer well, and though I’d wanted to have a turn at it myself, it was not to be.
    The shawl went next, falling in a heap on the step of the wagon. I wanted nothing of theirs touching me. Nothing that might make me imagine they were friendly or sympathetic to my cause.
    Easing myself onto my sore backside once again, I tried not to lose heart as I studied the pearls in my hand. “How I wish I was out of here and safe in Tallinyne,” I said, voicing my desperation aloud.
    A peculiar thing happened then. One pearl began moving, edging along the ribbon toward the knot at the end of the string. I tried to close my hand around it but was not quick enough. In the blink of an eye, the knot undid itself, and the pearl, glowing even brighter, jumped from my palm and rolled away.
    I tucked what was left of the bracelet into my bodice and reached for the stray gem.For a brief second my finger touched it, and I recoiled, feeling as if I’d been burned with a hot poker.
    The tip of my finger glowed red, and a blister rose up on the skin. Tears stung my eyes as I blew on my finger, fearing what would happen to my lips if I dared try to cool the burned appendage in my mouth.
    While I tended my wound, the pearl rolled on, leaving a glowing, red-hot trail on the floor behind it. I scooted out of its path and watched as, magically, three sides of a rectangle appeared on the floor. By the time the third side had been completed, the first had turned to ash. My finger, too, had cooled quickly and no longer stung. Cautiously, I approached the pearl. It jumped out of my reach.
    “Now, see here,” I muttered. I wasn’t about to let it fall through a floorboard or get lost in the dark.
    I crawled forward across the partially-completed rectangle, then let out a half-screech as the lines made by the pearl broke away, tilting the floor at a slant, and I went