Page 2 of Firebird
PROLOGUE
Dacia, 53 BCE
MALINA
“Malina,” hissed my sister.“Vino aici.”
I ignored her summons again, continuing to peer out through the tent flap.
The crowd thickened close to the stage where Hanzi tipped his head back and slid a sword down his throat. An eruption of awe swept up with applause.
“Malina.”
I finally snapped the tent flap shut. Lela removed her headscarf,black waves of hair tumbling down her shoulders. Plopping myself down on the wooden stool, I watched her with undisguised envy. Our bunica, our grandmother, gave her the colorful basma on her betrothal day last month. It still made my heart clench with envy.
“What is that look,bebelu??” she asked.
“I wish you’d stop calling me baby.”
Lela tilted her head and smiled in her maternal way, then picked up the stick of kohl.
“Close your eyes.”
I did, sighing as Lela lined my left lid first.
“Are you going to tell me what the sighs are for? You always love to dance for the crowd.” I could hear the smile in her voice. “And the crowd adores you.”
“It’s not that. It’s just… I miss Mama and Papa. I miss home.” And I didn’t want anything to change. Everything would change when she married Jardani.
Usually, our parents would have come with us. Most of our clan was with our caravan. But winter approached. There was much to do and prepare before the snows began to fall. Our parents and a few selected elders of eachfamiliein the clan remained behind. Our caravan had made a small circle through the valley beneath the southern range of the Carpathian Mountains. This last bit of coin would serve us well through the winter months.
As she’d done many times before, Lela smeared the kohl to thicken the shading along the outer edges of my eyes. “This is the last village. We’ll break camp in the morning and start the journey home.” She laughed in her throat. “But you don’t fool me. You’ll miss this.”
Lela finished dabbing the kohl and brushed out my hair the way she used to before she fell in love and spent all her time with Jardani.
My gaze fell to my lap where I traced the intricate design in golden thread on my red fusta. The gold and silver medallions of jewelry sewn into the vibrant fabric winked by the lantern light. Bunica had madethe richly adorned woolen skirt in a way that flared in perfect little arcs when I spun onstage.
I stood and smoothed my white blouse, the gold star-shaped embroidery sweeping in gentle curves down to where it met my fusta, creating a continuous design that flattered my figure.
“What do you mean?”
“You’re an adventurer, Mina. And too curious for your own good.”
I shrugged. “The world is an interesting place.”
“And dangerous. Especially for a wild seventeen-year-old girl.” Her dark eyes trailed down my body, a frown pinching her brow. “And one who appears much older.”
It was true I’d inherited more curves from our mother than Lela. We were polar opposites, the two of us. Lela was all sweetness and gentle ways like our father. I had the boldness and short temper of our mother.
“I’m nearly eighteen,” I argued.
“And unmarried and unprotected.”
I hated that reminder. She’d be married soon, and Mother was already hinting it was my turn next. All I wanted was for everything to stay the same, but that seemed impossible.
The tent flap whipped open with a thwack. Jardani filled up the entrance, stormy scowl darkening his features, broad shoulders tense with readiness.
Lela straightened. “What is it?”
