Siena (Forestfolk, Book 1)

Chapter 13c

With no escort of little girls to distract me, I felt more alone than ever walking through Foresthome. I missed Remi. I wondered when he would come back—if he would come back at all. I didn't know if I could be so brave, going back to spy on tribes who were so eager to enslave me, especially after narrowly escaping the captors in the first place.

When I arrived at my cabin, I found a small stack of clothes on my table. I stepped outside to see who might have left them there, but there was no one. I returned inside and held up the shirt. It was the same soft material I loved from the first shirt they had given me, only this one was a rich burgundy color. The same color as the berries I liked to eat. The trousers were the same pair they had given me before, only now they were free of the soot and grime from my fiery escapade.

I nuzzled the shirt with my face, loving the feel of it and silently thanking whoever left it for me. Then I shimmied out of my old dress and into my new favorite outfit. I scooped up the moccasins and headed toward the lake, feeling lighter on my bare feet. Instead of keeping my head down, I made eye contact with the people I passed, and none of them actually stared at me. They gave me nods and smiles. I saw no derision, no judgment. Had I really just imagined it all?

At the shore of the lake, I did my best to scrub off the scorch marks. They looked cleaner now, but were still singed around the edges.

"I think they're about as clean as they're going to get."

I started at the disembodied female voice, searching around behind me for its source. Then I heard the swish of water and looked toward the lake. A woman's head had emerged not far from me, black hair slicked back and water dripping from her nose. It was Dilla, the one Remi had pointed out to me that night carrying the basket of shellfish.

I watched as she swam to a floating basket that I hadn't noticed before. She dumped a handful of mussels into it and then paddled closer to me.

"Hello," I said, not bothering to tell her my name. Everyone seemed to know who I was already.

"You're brave," she said, not bothering with greetings. "I like that."

"Um . . . thanks," I said, blushing at the compliment.

"Brave and humble. I like that even more."

I smiled and looked down at the shoes in my hands, tugging on a dangling strip of leather.

"Not much for talking, are you?" she said, her voice tinged with amusement.

"I'm sorry. I don't mean to be rude. I get . . . wrapped up in my head sometimes." My brow crinkled. She probably thought I was slow now.

"Don't you fret over what people think of you." My eyes snapped to hers, wondering how she could possibly know. Was she a mind reader too?

"I used to be like you," she continued. "Always worried, always wondering if people liked me or not. If I learned one thing in all my years, it's that it doesn't matter. The only thing that matters is what you think of you."

"But . . ." I wanted to believe her, but it just didn't feel true. "That's not so easy when everyone thinks you're a blight on humanity."

Dilla snorted, sending a small splash of water rippling in front of her mouth. "I admit I've been called many things, but a blight?" She shook her head. "You and I, we are gifted. That makes us special. And no matter what anyone tells you, people want to be special. I haven't met a single person who didn't envy the Gifted. But it's a sad fact that some people, the ambitious ones, can't stand that they can never be that special. So they try to take it away from us. Call us unnatural. Aberrations. They try to make it bad that we are who we are. These people, you don't want them as friends. Their opinions don't matter."

I traced the edge of one shoe. I could hear the truth in her words, but I couldn't seem to fit them into my reality. "I don't want to disagree, but I think it does matter. It matters when these people control your life."

Dilla listed her head to one side as she mulled my words, her arms creating whirls of water around her. "Quite right. Then I suppose it's our job to make sure they don't."

Wise words! I think they deserve a vote! :D (Seriously though, thank you so much for voting. It means a lot to me as a writer!)