Chapter 1

1

A few years later…

Elvira Lovell was hiding in plain sight. The tavern was dimly lit, the low candles flickering. Hushed whispers flitted back and forth around the room. Elvira was sitting at a table in the corner. Her dark, curled hair was pulled back, accentuating her strong cheekbones and full lips. A cloak was draped around her shoulders and she leaned forward. Her olive skin was a stark contrast to the pale-faced Highlanders that sat around her. Ordinarily, a tavern like this would not have been a safe place for a 19-year-old girl, especially not one who was so different from the other patrons. However, Elvira was special. Elvira had been invited for a particular reason.

Before her sat a quivering woman, her eyes filled with fear.

"I'm just sae worried for my boy. I dinnae want him tae be a cruel bully, but it seems that's the way all men grow up here."

Elvira gently took the woman's hand in her own. She traced the lines of the palm, remembering all the lessons she had learned from her mother. People often thought that there was some magic involved in this, as though it was impossible for someone to master this skill who did not have Romani blood flowing through their veins. Perhaps, deep in the past, in the world before this one, there had been magic. Such a thing had dwindled from the world, Elvira thought. She was not a witch, even though the insult had been thrown her way on more than one occasion. No, what she excelled at was listening and observing. The lines of the palms helped guide her, but it was not the only thing that helped.

"I'm sure that with a mother's keen guidance, his compass shall always point north. He is yer son, nae matter what. He always hae been, and he always shall be. Remind him of virtues like kindness and love, and his heart will nae harden like sae many others," Elvira said. The woman sighed with relief and bowed her head, thanking Elvira profusely. She passed a few coins Elvira's way, and Elvira pocketed them quickly. The chair was vacated and then filled quickly, this time by an older man. His clothes were ragged, and the color had faded from his hair. His palm was wrinkled, showing a life well lived.

"Are things ever gaeing tae get better?" he asked.

Elvira frowned a little. "In what sense?" she asked.

"The world. Am I gaeing tae see peace in my time? When I was a boy, I remember things being far happier. The world was brighter. Things hae only gotten worse as I hae gotten older, and just once I would like for things tae be the way they were when I was young."

Elvira traced the line of life on his palm, thinking to herself that he probably didn't have many years left. "Try and look at the world as ye did when ye were a child. Ye were filled with wonder then, but that hae left ye as ye hae gotten older. Perhaps it is nae the world that hae dimmed, but the light inside of ye. Hae ye suffered a loss recently?"

His head bowed and a whimpered breath passed through his lips. "Aye, my sweet Loelle. I always promised her a good life."

"I'm sorry for yer loss. I'm sure she had one," Elvira placed her other hand over his palm, reassuring him. He looked up.

"Ye are?" he asked. Sometimes she forgot the power of her words. When she said something, people often derived a deeper meaning from them than what she meant. In this instance, he was inferring that Elvira had received a message from the next world. Elvira did not dismiss the notion, however. If it brought him peace, then where was the harm? She nodded. He smiled and seemed relieved. He gave her some coins but, before he left, he had one thing more to say.

"Ye know, many years ago, I came tae yer Ma. I wanted her tae tell me if I should ask Loelle tae marry me. Without her words, I dinnae know if I would hae worked up the courage. I never saw her again, but I wanted tae thank her. Will ye pass on that message from me?"

"I shall," Elvira said, swallowing the sudden, painful sob that rose to her throat.

"It is remarkable; ye look just like her. It's as though I'm back there, sitting with her again," he said, a wistful tone entering his voice as he traveled to the past, thinking of a time when hope was in front of him and the world was filled with possibilities rather than regrets. Elvira bowed her head, excusing herself from the next customer as she needed to fetch a drink. In actuality, she needed a moment to collect herself. The man's request only served to remind her that Maria was no longer with them, having died in childbirth to Elvira's younger sister, with her father having followed Maria shortly after. Sometimes, Elvira wondered if it was better that her Ma had departed the world then, for she had not had to witness the descent into madness.

There was a long line of people waiting for her to return. Anxiety twitched on their faces. Elvira already knew what questions they were going to ask even before she took her seat. They would all want to know when the world was going to get better, and if fighting could be avoided. Laird McKovac had given into all his worst impulses. It was as though a storm had arrived over the village a long time ago and never left.

Elvira slaked her thirst and then returned to her seat, wearing her placid smile. When people looked at her, they wanted to see someone in control, confident and reassuring. She had become adept at donning a mask of confidence in the hope of soothing people's anxieties. Before she could even speak to her next guest, however, a tall, familiar guard burst through the tavern's door with a worried look on his face.

"There's a raid coming," he said, and his gaze passed around the tavern until it settled on Elvira. "They are looking for ye." He marched towards her and started to push all the people away.

"I cannae leave, Samuel. All these people need me," Elvira protested.

Samuel tilted his head and gave her a stern look. "Ye really want tae be here when they come? Yer grandmother would never forgive me." Samuel turned his attention to the tavern. "And none of ye better say that she was here. Ye hae all been seeking her advice, and the Laird will nae take kindly tae that." He turned his attention back to Elvira, speaking in a low voice. "Come on," he urged.

Elvira knew there was no point in arguing with him. It was the pragmatic choice anyway. The last thing she wanted was to suffer at the hands of Laird McKovac's other guards. Samuel was the only kind guard she knew of. The Laird had shown a cruel streak towards Romani people and often made them suffer just to entertain himself. At least the villagers all agreed to keep her secret. Samuel took her out of the tavern and looked into the distance, before beckoning her forward.

"What are ye daeing here? I told ye that it was tae dangerous," he marched forward, turning his head in every direction and straining his ears.

"The people need my help. They're scared, Samuel. If I can help tae allay their fears, then I must. It's what Ma would hae done."

"Ye need tae think of yeself and yer family. It's nae safe for ye around here. I dinnae know why ye dinnae all just leave."

"Aye, the Laird would like that," Elvira muttered darkly.

Samuel paused for a moment and put his hands on his hips. "I'm sorry. I dinnae mean it like that. I just… after what yer grandma did for my sister… I hate tae think of ye suffering when ye dinnae hae tae."

"Then think about yer sister. What state would she hae been in if my family was nae here? She would nae hae been healed from her sickness. Think about all the other people that we could help by staying here."

Samuel had a grave look on his face. "It's true, Mirella was the only one who could help my sister. But she is fine now, and ye staying is nae gaeing tae solve the problem."

"But we are nae the problem Samuel. Laird McKovac is."

Samuel had an aggrieved look on his face. It wasn't his fault really, but Elvira was annoyed by the fact that her people were seen as the problem rather than Laird McKovac's aggression. Everyone said that they should just move on, as if uprooting their lives was an easier fate than placating an angry Laird's temper. It didn't seem fair that they should all suffer while he terrorized them. Samuel ushered her away to a path through the forest that would obscure her. In the distance, they could hear the thunder of hooves against the ground, signaling that a patrol of guards was oncoming.

"Hamish McKovac is kinder than his father. He sent me, to warn anyone I could find. Things will get better, I promise. I'll lead them away as quickly as I can. Get back tae yer family and hide," he said.

Elvira's heart flashed with fear. Life shouldn't be like this , she thought. They had done nothing wrong, yet they were persecuted anyway. She wished that she did possess magic, real magic like some people believed she did—then she could protect everyone she cared about.

Elvira made a hasty retreat back to the small farm she called home, skulking along a trail used by hunters and denizens of the forest. It was barely visible in the darkness, but she had traveled it many times before, so she was sure-footed and nimble. The path wound between trees, wending like a river, and she was obscured by leafy bushes. She crested a ridge and expected to be greeted by the sight of the homestead, but instead, she was faced with a ruin. The soft moonlight was gentle, but it could not soothe the ache in her heart. The building had been charred by fire. There was a gaping hole in the thatched roof. The fence had been broken as well. The animals who hadn't been slaughtered, must have freed themselves. Everything they had, had been just taken away.

Elvira silently sank to her knees and wept, unable to move. She couldn't bring herself to go to the farm because she was afraid of what she might find there. Were her siblings and grandmother laid among the ash, or had they been taken? She wasn't sure which fate was worse. As she sobbed, she curled her hands into tight fists and beat them upon the ground. Anger and pain flooded her mind, and she gave into the rampant emotions that roared inside her. She wished that Laird McKovac was below her, and she was pummeling his face, making him feel all of the pain that he inflicted upon her people.

And then, a hand came upon her shoulder. It startled Elvira so much that she flinched, pushing herself away as she feared it was a guard. Instead, it was the kind, wizened face of her grandmother, Mirella, who looked almost bemused.

"Now, child, this is nae time for tears. We needed them before, they might hae put out the fire," she chuckled.

Elvira immediately threw her arms around her and hugged her fiercely. "How can ye laugh at a time like this?" she asked between quiet sobs.

"I haven't more tears to give for these men." Mirella rolled her shoulders. "Come, lassie; yer siblings are waiting." She turned, and Elvira followed.

They walked a short distance to a small glade, where Tereza and Ollie waited for her. She clung to them as she saw them again, crying with relief. With them stood Storm, the old family horse.

"We fled the farm before they arrived," Mirella said, sighing heavily. "I think it's time we left this place."

Elvira's eyes widened. "We cannae give the laird what he wants. We cannae let him win!"

"Look at us, Elvira. He hae won already. I am nae gaeing tae live in a land where we are nae wanted, just out of spite. Best tae move on, for the wee ones," Mirella added this last part when she saw that Elvira was getting ready to argue.

Elvira looked down at her siblings. They were tired and confused. Mirella was right. They shouldn't have to grow up in a world ruled by fear.

"Where can we gae?"

"Laird Boyd's land. He is an enemy of McKovac's. Perhaps we can find refuge there. Ye may remember that we hae an old family friend," Mirella's eyes twinkled and Elvira's did the same. She remembered the broad-shouldered older boy who showed an uncanny skill with the hammer. She had been just a slip of a girl, and he was becoming a man. Elvira had been quite taken with him, and she remembered her mother coming to her, smiling as she could tell Elvira's secret.

"Ye like Ian," Maria had said. Elvira had blushed and tried to hide her face. Maria had sat Elvira on her lap and had taken her palm in her hand. "Elvira, one day ye will marry a good man like him. Strong, tall, handsome, and with a good heart. That's what ye must look for above all else, a good heart. And maybe, if ye are patient enough, ye will find the man ye want."

When she had been younger, Elvira had always dreamed of being reunited with that boy, Ian McKendrick. As the years passed, that dream had dwindled, and she rarely thought about him. Her parents used to move from clan to clan, until they had returned to these lands, unable to find prosperity elsewhere. Despite all the people she had seen, there had never been anyone like Ian who had anchored in the root of her childhood mind. But was this the river of fate carrying her back to her childhood fantasies? Was all this pain going to take her into the arms of a man who was to be her husband? It seemed so absurd, but then again her mother had shown tremendous insight, and perhaps her influence on the world lasted longer than her body.

While Elvira did not like the idea of leaving these lands and the people who needed her, she could not deny that she needed to do what was best for her family. So, she lifted Tereza and Ollie onto Storm's back and then walked alongside the horse to new pastures. Perhaps there was something noble in retreat, as long as it guaranteed safety.