Song for a Gypsy (The Wolfboy Chronicles Book 1) Read online

  And then it happened.

  The first thing she noticed was the woman running past them and towards their caravan. Sara didn’t think much of it until a minute or so later, when another woman came running in the exact same direction with that exact same expression on her face.

  This was highly unusual, Sara thought to herself, and kept staring at her family caravan where the two women had gone in.

  And when a third woman came, Sara got up from the ground and looked at her dad. He shook his head and told her he didn’t know what was happening.

  “Sometimes women are very hard to understand,” he said, and prepared another torch.

  Sara wasn’t so sure that was enough of an answer for her. She was a curious little girl and had that feeling in her stomach that kids sometimes get when they know that something is happening, but they just don’t know if it is good or bad.

  So she went straight to the caravan. She opened the door and looked inside. One of the tribe’s women stood in the doorway and was blocking her view. There was much talking among the women inside. They all had busy looks on their faces, that look that grown-ups get when something is very wrong and they have to take immediate action.

  The woman nearest Sara turned and looked at her.

  “You can’t come in right now,” she said, and tried to close the door in Sara’s face.

  Sara stopped her by putting a hand on the door.

  “Where is my mom?” she asked, and felt a lump in her throat. What if something had happened to her?

  “Sorry, sweetie, you can’t see her now.” The woman tried once more to close the door, but Sara slammed it wide open.

  “Why? What’s wrong with her?”

  The woman shook her head.

  “She’s not feeling well at the moment; please go and be with your dad for a little while.”

  “But what happened to her?”

  “She just fainted. She’ll be fine. Just let us help her and she will be out soon, okay?”

  Sara stepped down and away from the door as the woman hurried up and closed it in front of her.

  Her dad now seemed to have sensed the gravity of the situation and stood at her side.

  “What did they say?”

  She looked up and saw his big face.

  “Mom fainted. They are trying to take care of her.”

  He nodded slowly, trying to pretend like he had the situation under control, but Sara knew he was as scared as she was.

  “Then I guess there is nothing more we can do right now,” Moeselman said, and put his arm around Sara. “We will just have to wait.”

  She looked at him again. His eyes were worried, she could tell. It made her uncomfortable and the feeling in her stomach that something bad was coming grew stronger.

  But it wasn’t until later that afternoon that Sara got an answer to what was going on. Her dad finally got to go in the caravan, while all the women went outside. They stood in a flock and talked in low voices. Sara was sitting on the ground next to them, petting one of her dad’s big dogs—a German Shepherd—but couldn’t hear what they were saying. All she heard were small bits like:

  “…Unusual for a woman her age…”

  And:

  “…Too old…”

  Then there was a lot of shaking heads and mumbling among them, and then more words like:

  “…Very risky…”

  “…not sure to survive…”

  “…Can’t go through with it…”

  Sara hid her head in the palms of her hands and tried to block the world out. She couldn’t bear to lose her mother now. She had just gotten to know her.

  “Sara?”

  The voice was right next to her. It was that of her mother. Sara looked up. Settela was kneeling right beside her. Sara got up and hugged her.

  “I love you, Mom; don’t ever leave me,” she said.

  Settela laughed and so did Moeselman, who stood right next to her. And that was when Sara realized something. Settela wasn’t going to die right now; actually, she looked happier than ever, and so did Moeselman.

  What was going on?

  “Sara, we have great news,” her mother said, while gently removing Sara’s bangs from her eyes.

  “What news?”

  Settela looked at Moeselman and they both smiled.

  “Your mother is expecting,” he said.

  Sara was confused.

  “Expecting what?”

  Settela laughed a light laugh and smiled with warmth. Then she kissed Sara on the forehead and looked her in the eyes. Sara felt so loved when she did that.

  “A baby. I am expecting a baby.”

  Sara felt lightheaded. It seemed like everything was spinning around her. The caravans, the smiling and laughing women, her mom and dad, the whole camp was turning around her.

  Oh, no! Not again?

  “How many?” Sara asked from experience. Last time anyone gave her that message, three babies came out and destroyed everything.

  “Only the one,” her mother said reassuringly. “It is going to be wonderful. Our small family is expanding.”

  Sara didn’t even try to smile. She was the only one who had gone through this before. They didn’t know what they were getting themselves into.

  “But why did all these women say all that stuff?”

  Her mother looked at her curiously.

  “What stuff is that?”

  Sara had a small tear escape from her eye. Her mother saw it and wiped it away with her finger.

  “They talked like you were going to die or something.”

  Settela hugged Sara and squeezed her tight.

  “Oh, sweetie, you must have thought the most horrible things. Don’t listen to them. They were just talking.”

  “But why would they say that?”

  Settela sighed and sat down on the ground next to Sara.

  “Listen to me,” she said. “They talk like that because they think I am too old to have a child.”

  “Are you?”

  “I am getting older, and it is very unusual for a woman my age to have more children. We tried for years to have a child and had almost given up when you came along. You were our miracle. But because of all the years of trying to get pregnant, I had you late, and therefore we were certain that you would be our only child, but now this happened. It is another miracle and it must be a very special child. Just like you.”

  Sara sniffled.

  “But…”

  Settela smiled and interrupted her.

  “No buts here, little missy,” she said, and pressed her forefinger on Sara’s nose with her bright smile. “This child is a gift from the spirits and everything will be just fine. I will be fine and so will the baby.”

  Then Settela squeezed Sara, and Moeselman took them both in his arms and held them tight.

  Sara felt better after talking to her mother, but something inside of her wasn’t quite convinced that everything was going to be fine. A feeling, a nagging unrest in her, told her that she was the one with the experience in this field, and it was not a good one.

  That fall they performed in the cities of the Mediterranean coast of Spain, and as the winter came, they stayed outside the city of Barcelona.

  Sara’s mother had gotten big and it became more and more difficult for her to travel. She was tired all the time and needed her rest, and traveling on bumpy roads is not pleasant when you have a baby in your stomach. So they did an unusual thing. They decided not to travel anymore until the baby was born, and they stayed for three months in the same place.

  When the time came and Settela was about to have the baby, spring was in the air.

  It happened early in the morning. Sara woke up when she heard her mother scream.

  “What is wrong with mom?” she asked, as she entered her parents’ bedroom.

  Settela’s face was taut with strain; she was making a low noise like a tree creaking. The effort was costing her dearly, using up her last reserves of strength, and she seemed to drift off in a daze for a second. Then she became alert again and another scream filled the caravan.

  Three of the tribe’s women were already there, and Sara’s great-grandmother sat in a chair in the corner and was chanting and praying.

  Moeselman stood at Settela’s bed and held her hand. When he saw Sara, he let go of her hand and walked outside with her.

  “Is this it? Why is she screaming so much? Is something wrong?” Sara asked, when they got outside where a crowd had gathered. They were all cheerful and looking at her like she should be too.

  “It is perfectly normal,” Moeselman said. “It is messy and noisy and a little bit scary right now, but in a short time, you will become a big sister.”

  Someone handed Sara some bread and water, but she was not hungry that particular morning. She was anxious and nervous and scared. Was she the only one that thought this wasn’t such a great idea?

  Then her mom screamed again. It went right through Sara’s bones. Hands were on both hers and Moeselman’s shoulders, smiles were on everybody’s faces as the screaming got worse and worse. It was very unreal to Sara, as if the more her mother was in pain, the more the crowd cheered.

  All of a sudden, it was over. The silence that followed seemed endless. Everybody waited for that sound, a noise, any small sign that whatever came out of her mother was alive.

  And then Sara heard it. They all did. The small cry that meant the baby was alive. A relief spread through the crowd, and after that, the cheering continued. People were congratulating her and her father. Moeselman was crying and hugging her and lifting her into the air. Even the dogs barked, as if they wanted to take part in the jubilation.

  And then, finally, the door to the caravan was opened and the woman that had been the midwife stuck her face out. She was glowing, as if she herself had gone through the pain of giving birth.

  In her hands she had something wrapped in a blanket. She lifted it high in the air and everyone broke into cheers of joy. It was the baby. All red and wrinkled. It was crying like it wanted her to stop.

  Then the woman looked at Moeselman. He came closer and she handed him the baby. He took it gently into his arms, lifted the blanket, and looked. Then he turned to the crowd.

  “It is a boy!” he yelled.

  The crowd cheered again like they couldn’t be happier.

  Everyone was happy except for Sara. She had walked away from the crowd and was sitting in the grass, watching them all dance with joy. The only one not dancing was Sami, the Wolfboy. She noticed him as he was sitting in his cage, staring at her with his blue eyes. It was like he was always looking at her now, ever since that night they’d stood face to face. It was like he was following her every move.

  All of a sudden, Moeselman stood in front of her with the baby in his arms.

  “Get up and meet your little brother,” he said.

  Sara got up a little reluctantly. Moeselman handed her the baby. She looked at him and he nodded.

  “It’s alright. Just take him.”

  So she did. She held him in her arms and, in that moment, the baby opened his eyes and looked straight at Sara. Then he squeezed her forefinger with his hand, and she could have sworn that she saw him smile. That must have been the most beautiful sight she had ever seen.

  In that instant, Sara couldn’t stop the tears from running down her cheeks. She looked at her dad and saw that he felt it too. Her mom had been right. This boy was truly a miracle and something very special.

  “His name shall be Marius,” her dad said.

  Later that same day, Moeselman took his best and finest horse to the market and sold it. Then he bought meat and wine for the tribe, and they danced all night.

  8

  A STRANGE ILLNESS

  It didn’t take Sara long to get accustomed to her new life with a baby in the caravan. She had been so wrong. This was nothing like when the three babies were born at Mr. and Mrs. Schneider’s house. Marius was nothing like them.

  He never cried, not even at night when he woke up. Sara just heard him babbling in his crib, and then she would get up and give him his bottle. She didn’t have to do that, her mom said, but Sara really wanted to. She enjoyed those moments in the middle of the night when she was alone with her baby brother.

  She would sing to him and tell him stories, and he would stare at her with those big brown eyes and laugh that cute little laugh. She felt she could talk to him about everything. She told him all about their family, about 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 during the 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 find one. 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 those 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 were 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 at 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 ran 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 Foresight,” she said, while staring into the air with an empty look in her eyes. “I am going to ask it how to cure my brother.”

  Manolo looked at her with surprise.

  “I remember you told me about the book, but your mom made you promise never to open it again.”

  “I know. But that was before I had a little brother and before that brother got ill. I have to do something.”

  Manolo thought for a moment.

  “It sounds dangerous. Are you sure you know what you’re doing?”

  “No.”

  “Well at least discuss it with your mother before you do anything.”

  “I can’t do that.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because she will just tell me not to do it. She already said that once. I can’t risk her saying no. Who else will save my brother? My mom is the only one around that knows how to heal people, and even she can’t do it. We need help.”

  Manolo looked pensively at the crystal clear water running in the river.

  “Okay, but you shouldn’t do it alone. I will help you ask the book.”

  Sara looked at Manolo.

  “Not that I need it, but thank you.”

  So, without anyone noticing them, they went in to Settela’s tent and found the book. Sara put it on the table where Settela made her potions. She looked at the golden snakehead on the front cover. It was staring right at her. She felt her heart racing in her chest. She looked at Manolo. He seemed pale and frightened, too.

  Then she heard the whisper again.

  “…Sara…Sara…Sara…”

  She let go of the book. Her heart was beating even faster now. She looked at Manolo to see if he heard it. By the look on his face, she knew that he had. He took a step backwards with his eyes wide open.