The Secret of the Emerald Sea by Heather Matthews

tell fortunes. I could whisper in your ear, and you could tell the villagers the sorts of things they want to hear,” the Cupid answered. She could hear the sly smile in his voice. “Everyone wants to believe they will find love, and be loved with all of someone’s heart.” He squeezed her hand tightly.
    She closed her eyes for a moment, remembering his kiss, his man’s kiss , and then she shook her head slowly. “It’s all so confusing,” she whispered to herself. “But we would be lying to them, would we not?” Jane asked a moment later after a few deep, calming breaths. “Is that not wrong?”
    “They only want hope, Jane. Just to hope for something.” He stroked the inside of her wrist with his tiny fingers. “It’s not a sin to foster hope in another person.”
    He bent his head a little then, as he spoke, and Jane watched his clever little face, which always seemed to hide a multitude of thoughts and opinions, and she wondered, as she had many times before, if his views of sin and humanity might not differ greatly from her own. But she did not really wish to delve further into such issues. It was easier to believe they were alike.
    “But what if we are shown to be frauds since nothing comes true?” she asked.
    “Perhaps enough of it will come true to enhance our reputation,” the Cupid answered, laughing. “Perhaps we will be better at reading the villager’s minds than you think, Jane.”
    Jane laughed. She knew she had changed since she, too, had been a simple villager. Perhaps it was because she had grown older, but when she was with the Cupid, some mischievous element in her own character seemed to emerge, and she suddenly found herself looking forward to telling the fortunes, to making the money, and to getting along on her own—with the Cupid, of course, always with him—without anyone to say what she should do or whom she should be.
    Of course, she would find her way back to her grandmother. She must remember that this was the most important thing in the end.
    “We will try to pass ourselves off as gypsies, then!” Jane laughed. “Me, the blonde gypsy, and my gypsy baby brother who does not speak, but only clings to my neck.” She shook her head at the ludicrous ruse the Cupid had dreamed up for them. It was so silly and far-fetched. She giggled and trudged forward, slowing her steps to match his. Whenever he wished, she would carry him upon her hip.
    “They’ll have to be fools to believe a single word of it!” she muttered.
    “Indeed, they will!” the boy remarked quietly, and she could hear the slyness in his voice.
    Perhaps that is what he is counting on , she thought quizzically.

Chapter Eleven
     
    As Jane and he Cupid made their way toward the town along an old dirt road, they encountered a trickle of townspeople who were quite bold in their curiosity about the young girl and the tiny boy. The women along the roadway asked more questions than the men did, and Jane told them a tale of woe that was so sad and tragic—and previously concocted by the Cupid—that the women of the town were determined to help the young girl and her brother right away.
    The Cupid had told her that her youth and beauty, not to mention his little dimples, would surely cancel out the usual mistrust of strangers. She watched him as he smiled at the villagers they met with practiced skill. His large, jewel-like eyes seemed to beseech the local townspeople to please, please help them in any way that they could.
    Jane was more reserved, but once she’d told her rehearsed story a few times, she began to feel more comfortable with the people they met on the road. One of these villagers led them to a public house located directly in the center of the little town. It was known as The Crown Of Thorns.
    Despite its somber name, the Crown of Thorns was a merry place. All the villagers met there at the end of their long workdays in order to commiserate about the day’s events. The crude, thatched little