Reckless Magic

I shouldered my backpack onceagain; its weight had definitely increased throughout the trip, from oldclothes to my new books, it was getting kind of heavy. I pulled the strapstight though, hoping to discourage any type of pickpocket and worked my waythrough the busy train station doors.

My travel guide had informed methat the Blue Arrow train was the only way to travel in style and I decided totake its word for it. I found the ticket counter without any problem, andpulled out my dictionary for the necessary terms. A stout, elderly woman whohad seen better days sat behind a thick glass partition.

“Buna dimineata, doamna” Istuttered through, reading directly from a page marked Popular Phrases in myEnglish to Romanian Dictionary. Goodmorning madam.

She grunted her reply, and I forgedthrough another phrase.

“Un bilet la Sibiu va rog,” One ticket for Sibiu, please. I gave hermy award wi

I held up a small handful of cash,unsure of what any of it meant. Unfortunately, Kingsley didn’t offer a monetaryconversion class. Or maybe I just hadn’t been forced to take it yet.

She took my handful of Lei andcounted out what she needed; even if she took a little more for herself itdidn’t bother me. She passed me back the change along with a ticket and pointedin the direction of the platform, holding up her hand to signal five minutes.

“Multumesc,” I tried again, sayingthank you before walking away quickly to the platform.

I found the train I was assigned toand it was thankfully the Blue Arrow. The only modern and smooth looking rideamong a line of trains that looked like they could be the first model of atrain…. ever. Breathing my one hundredth sigh of relief I walked through theautomatic doors, passed seats filled with all different social classes ofRomanian.

The train was slightly deceiving inthat I expected luxury once inside the automatic doors, but instead was metwith a pungent smell that nearly made me hurl. I politely covered my mouthpretending to cough and collapsed into my seat, just in time to hear thewhistle and feel the earth begin to move slowly beneath my feet.

On the long plane ride over I hadtime to plan and plot. I had gone over my speech a thousand times, and I wasdetermined to give it once inside the court room doors. The only problem wasthat I needed to be able to find the courtroom.

The town of Sibiu was located inthe central part of Romania and in the mountains; this was as far as I knew togo. I only remembered the name of the town Kiran had given me after Irecognized it in the guidebook.

The biggest problem was that thefestival was for sure not in the city, and apparently somewhere in the middleof nowhere. The train would take me directly into the city, but once I wasthere, I would have no other direction to follow. I was still determined;although regretful I hadn’t pressured Avalon for more information.

The train left the city and woundthrough the breathtaking Romanian countryside. I refused to sleep during thatpart of my journey too and watched as the train flew by fields being farmed byold fashioned horses and wagons and primitive gypsy villages with nakedchildren ru

Eventually someone came by to takemy ticket. The train employee laughed out loud at my white, sleeveless sweatertank top and ocean blue capris. If only he knew the clothing options I wasgiven in the middle of an Atlanta airport while trying to catch my internationalflight, I thought he might have been proud of me.

After he continued on his way, Irealized how ridiculous I looked. I hadn’t slept in two days; my long hair wasgreasy and knotted into an impossible mess on the top of my head. The cruisewear I purchased was obviously out of season, and then to top it off I wasstill wearing my school clogs. A cold shiver ran over my body and giving upcompletely I pulled out my bright red Nebraska Corn Huskers sweatshirt andthrew it on over my tank top.

I remembered Avalon’s expensiveblack suit and tie and cringed to think how out of place I would look uponarrival at the Citadel…. if I could find it. By my calculations the trial wouldbe late this evening, and I had only precious hours until my time was up andall of this would have been for nothing.

I hugged my worn out back pack asif it were my last hope for success. I couldn’t have come this far for nothing;I wouldn’t have come this far and do nothing.

“You’re one of them,” An elderlywoman took a seat next to me and spoke perfect English. I sat up shocked tohear my own tongue and even more shocked by her words.

“Excuse me?” A wave of nervousnesswashed over me, and I searched out a current of magic in the old woman butsensed nothing.

“One of the Old Ones,” the womansmiled genially and revealed toothless gums. I did not know what to make of thewoman who was clearly human and by the looks of things, a gypsy. She wasdressed in layer upon layer of rags, her hair tied behind a dirty bandana. Alarge gold ring protruded from her nose, and larger golden rings dangled fromher ears. Her hands were small and gnarled; the dirt under her nails prominent.Her eyes, a brilliant violet, were her only beautiful quality. They reminded meof Angelica.

“The Old Ones?” I asked, confidentshe meant Immortals, but unsure how she would know about us, or that I was oneof them.

She reached out suddenly to grab myhands. Hers were warm and moist as they gripped mine firmly. I tentativelytried to pull them back, but her grasp was so tight and her gaze so intense Iwas honestly scared of her. I thought to offer her money, but she began toinspect my palms as if looking for something in particular.

“It can’t be,” she sighed softlytaking my hands and holding them high above me towards the light.

“I’m sorry?” I pulled my hands awayfrom her and tucked them under my arms, afraid of what she found. A chillworked its way up my spine.

“You are the next Oracle,” shespoke with such awe and her gaze searched my eyes so intently that I lookeddown, once again afraid of this tiny old woman.

“Do you know where they are? TheOld Ones?” I found my nerves and asked bravely; although I was unsure why Iwould trust this stranger.

“Do you not?” she pinched my chintightly between her thumb and forefinger, and then moved my head in a circle,inspecting it for who knew what.

“No, I am…. I am trying to find them,”I confided, still unsure if I could trust her.

“You are going to the mountainvillage?” she asked turning my head sharply in one direction and then lettingout a loud giggle.

“Yes,” I said, hoping she meantSibiu.

“Then follow the magic,” shesuddenly stood up, then bent down and kissed my forehead with wet, sticky lips.I refrained from wiping off the slobber immediately. “They have waited for youfor a long time.”

The train suddenly lurched to astop, sending me sliding forward in my seat. I looked up, expecting the feeble,older woman to be sprawled on the floor since she was standing precariouslyduring the sudden stop, but she was already at the doors and gone before Icould even get out of my seat. After she was safely on the ground the train beganagain as if it was scheduled to make that very stop.

Chapter Thirty-Nine

The gypsy woman still a mystery,the train came to a stop in the humble, but beautiful town of Sibiu. I exitedthe train, backpack in tow, to an outdoor platform. I breathed in the lesspolluted air of the countryside and lifted my face to the late afternoon sun,whose warmth I barely felt. I pulled the hood up on my sweatshirt and took inanother big breath.

It was during that breath, that Ifinally felt it; the small hum of magic coming from some distance away. It wasalmost like a calling; the buzzing electricity beckoned me to find it.