Pinnacle (ONGOING)

Chapter Twenty-Two

     I was comfortably stowed away in a tiny corner of Mathilde's caravan for the night, and found it hard to sleep between the ragged breathing of Joan on the floor and the smell of the chicken feather pillows in my sphere. There was nothing offensive about these things, only that there was no essence of home in their depths. Regardless, the excitement of the day took me unbidden into a dreamless black sleep like a pool of dark water.

     Suddenly, outside of that realm of sleep, I heard a sound which brought me blearily to consciousness. I sat up with an utterance of confusion, and heard the sound repeated again. I blinked, processing it for a moment until I recalled its origins in my childhood when Rhiannon would signal me in the night to meet. Hastily maneuvering out of the caravan, I saw that the moon was big and full, and straight over-head.

     "Sophie." The woman whispered from the shade of tree, and I scrambled to meet her there.

     "Where is William?" I blurted, still dim with sleep.

     "My uncle will have taken the Gadjo to the drabarni across town. He was wounded badly."

     "How do you know these things?" I demanded a little more severely than intended, as the news of William being hurt was like a stab to the gut.

     She blinked at this. "I know." It was pronounced as naturally as proclaiming night was dark.

     "In my dreams I see your man. I see Joan as well. The Devel has tasked me with seeing you to him, and Joan to come with us." In a rare moment of affection, the severe woman touched my arm. "She is in need of a drabarni too, you know?"

     I drew back. "The devil?" I echoed, warily.

     "No chey, Devel is Roma's word for the Lord. For God and Christ Jesus" She reassured.

     "Oh." I stilled. "When can you take me to him?"

     "I will come to collect you in the morning. Do not tell the others of this meeting and our plans." She said, and walked away.

--

     That morning, Wells looked less than pleased, sitting across from me with Rhiannon at his side, and little Joan at mine.

     "Avez-vous dû l'apporter avec nous?" Wells said, referring to Rhiannon as we bounced along the rocky path.

     "Elle est notre seul espoir." I replied.

     "I can speak French très bien, mon cher." Rhiannon said, naturally. She did not seemed to be perturbed at all by his comment, and I stifled a laugh.

     "Rhiannon." I said, gaining her attention.

     "You said Freedom is your uncle, are either of your parents alive? I remember them from the Kumpania outside of my house. They were always very kind."

     Her expression fell at that. "They were arrested and killed during an eviction when I was a child."

     "Oh...I am so sorry." I lamented, images of the couple were floating through my mind at that effectuation; the ginger hair of Rhiannon's father, curling up around his mouth as he smiled at his daughter. Her mother's deep dark eyes and rich tan skin. The smell of roasting hedgehog was roiling pleasantly in my memory as if I sat right next to it. I immediately wished I had taken up breaking my fast before departing.

     "It is well." She said, "Dat and Day were destined for Saint Sarah, their deaths play a part in Devel's plan." I nodded, wondering if that was a divine message, or only means of coping with a loss.

     The first half of the trip was spent sleeping, but suddenly I felt a tap wake me. I opened my eyes to find Joan looking purposefully at me as if she had something to say.