A Gypsy Song (The Eye of the Crystal Ball - The Wolfboy Chronicles) by Willow Rose Page B
Authors: Willow Rose
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their tribe and the people he would soon meet. She talked to him about the children in the camp, who he should play with and who he shouldn’t and she told him some of the stories she used to read in her many books.
And after a while he would fall asleep in her arms and she would sit with him for a couple of minutes more and look at him. And every once in a while she would look up and see her mother standing in the doorway smiling at her.
Together they would put him in the crib and her mother would tuck her in afterwards, kissing her on the forehead telling her how good she was with Marius. How happy she was that they had her and that they all were a family.
Sara enjoyed that, too, and that nagging feeling of hers went away for awhile.
But as fall came and the north wind began to blow, the tribe was getting ready to begin their travel south to keep warm for the winter.
Sara had turned fourteen and the baby was six months old when he all of a sudden got ill and they had to postpone the plans of traveling.
There wasn’t one particular day that Sara discovered that something was wrong. It was more something that came gradually.
It was mostly her mother’s crying at night and her parents’ worried faces at day that let her know that something wasn’t as it should be.
Marius was still quiet and you wouldn’t have known he was ill if it wasn’t for the constant fever that went on for weeks and the fact that he stopped growing.
Sara’s mom looked through her books for the answer but didn’t seem to get any. She would search the forest for herbs, plants, vegetables, mushrooms or fruit barks and then she would cook them for the baby to drink. She found ancient Romani recipes and tried that on him, too. She asked the spirits what to do and prayed for help. The tribe’s women came with potions and tried their different spells that were supposed to exorcise the evil spirits in him.
But nothing worked.
And it was wearing on her mother, Sara could tell. She became skinny and had black marks under her eyes. The laughter, the singing and the happiness was gone from her parents. And inside Sara, the anxiety grew.
Marius got worse and worse, until he was sleeping and barely waking up at all during the day. Sara’s mother would watch him all day and night to make sure she didn’t miss the few minutes when he would open his eyes. She gave him cold baths to keep his temperature down and she held him in her arms for hours while he was sleeping. Still, he was burning with fever.
It got to a point when Sara just couldn’t take it any longer. An idea had shaped in her head long ago and she couldn’t escape it. She kept wondering if she could do something. If she could somehow save her little brother.
By the time Marius had gotten sick, they had set their camp in the Cantabrian Mountains, a chain of mountains in the northwestern part of Spain. And they had stayed there now for two months. Sara had run into Manolo at one of the markets and they had started seeing each other daily. She had told him about her brother’s illness and enjoyed having someone to talk to—someone outside of the tribe. He had told her that he had run away from home with nothing but his guitar and now he tried to make a living by playing on the markets. The two of them had gotten quite close and therefore it was natural for Manolo to be the first to hear about Sara’s plan.
They met for lunch at their usual spot by a big river that ran into a deep canyon. They loved to stand and watch as the water run down the waterfall. It was one of Sara’s favorite spots in the whole world.
“I need to save my brother,” she said.
“There isn’t much you can do, is there?” he said and handed her some bread and olives. Pointy mountaintops surrounded them. They sat on some rocks. Pine trees were leaning on the sloping mountainside.
“I think I might know a way.”
“How?”
He ate some bread. Sara wasn’t hungry.
“ The Book of
And after a while he would fall asleep in her arms and she would sit with him for a couple of minutes more and look at him. And every once in a while she would look up and see her mother standing in the doorway smiling at her.
Together they would put him in the crib and her mother would tuck her in afterwards, kissing her on the forehead telling her how good she was with Marius. How happy she was that they had her and that they all were a family.
Sara enjoyed that, too, and that nagging feeling of hers went away for awhile.
But as fall came and the north wind began to blow, the tribe was getting ready to begin their travel south to keep warm for the winter.
Sara had turned fourteen and the baby was six months old when he all of a sudden got ill and they had to postpone the plans of traveling.
There wasn’t one particular day that Sara discovered that something was wrong. It was more something that came gradually.
It was mostly her mother’s crying at night and her parents’ worried faces at day that let her know that something wasn’t as it should be.
Marius was still quiet and you wouldn’t have known he was ill if it wasn’t for the constant fever that went on for weeks and the fact that he stopped growing.
Sara’s mom looked through her books for the answer but didn’t seem to get any. She would search the forest for herbs, plants, vegetables, mushrooms or fruit barks and then she would cook them for the baby to drink. She found ancient Romani recipes and tried that on him, too. She asked the spirits what to do and prayed for help. The tribe’s women came with potions and tried their different spells that were supposed to exorcise the evil spirits in him.
But nothing worked.
And it was wearing on her mother, Sara could tell. She became skinny and had black marks under her eyes. The laughter, the singing and the happiness was gone from her parents. And inside Sara, the anxiety grew.
Marius got worse and worse, until he was sleeping and barely waking up at all during the day. Sara’s mother would watch him all day and night to make sure she didn’t miss the few minutes when he would open his eyes. She gave him cold baths to keep his temperature down and she held him in her arms for hours while he was sleeping. Still, he was burning with fever.
It got to a point when Sara just couldn’t take it any longer. An idea had shaped in her head long ago and she couldn’t escape it. She kept wondering if she could do something. If she could somehow save her little brother.
By the time Marius had gotten sick, they had set their camp in the Cantabrian Mountains, a chain of mountains in the northwestern part of Spain. And they had stayed there now for two months. Sara had run into Manolo at one of the markets and they had started seeing each other daily. She had told him about her brother’s illness and enjoyed having someone to talk to—someone outside of the tribe. He had told her that he had run away from home with nothing but his guitar and now he tried to make a living by playing on the markets. The two of them had gotten quite close and therefore it was natural for Manolo to be the first to hear about Sara’s plan.
They met for lunch at their usual spot by a big river that ran into a deep canyon. They loved to stand and watch as the water run down the waterfall. It was one of Sara’s favorite spots in the whole world.
“I need to save my brother,” she said.
“There isn’t much you can do, is there?” he said and handed her some bread and olives. Pointy mountaintops surrounded them. They sat on some rocks. Pine trees were leaning on the sloping mountainside.
“I think I might know a way.”
“How?”
He ate some bread. Sara wasn’t hungry.
“ The Book of
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