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“Aw, I’d do it,” said Billy.
“I’m sure you would,” said Miss Lightfoot, “but I feel Mr. Dandy is more likely to stick to the task at hand.”
I followed her nervously. She comported herself like a lady, not a temptress, but what if she expected more than I was willing to give?
Inside her wagon Miss Lightfoot handed me a bottle of Hawley’s Corn Salve and turned her back on me. As I fumbled
with the bottle, she slid her bodice from her shoulders. My mouth dried.
“Don’t put too much on, sugar; I want to get rid of the itch, not ruin my act.”
I poured a dollop into my palm and smoothed it on her back, which was as cracked as a mudflat in summer.
“Oooh,” she sighed. “That’s much better. You have no idea.”
I tried not to venture too far around her sides. “Does this work?” I asked, for conversation’s sake.
“Well, I do prefer Wrinkleine,” she said. “It soaks in faster, but it’s much more expensive, and if I were an ordinary lady, I would be annoyed at them. I think I have proved without a doubt that they cannot live up to their guarantee to permanently remove all forms of wrinkles and blemishes.”
I had covered her back with lotion, and planned to take my leave, when she raised her hand to her shoulder and laid it over mine. I almost dropped the bottle. I took a deep breath while I searched for gentle words to let her down.
“Honey pie,” she said in a hushed voice before I could speak. “You and Apollo are gentlefolk. Are you sure you want that little friend of yours on the road with the characters Mink employs?”
I took her lead and answered quietly. “I haven’t had much choice.” I hadn’t expected this to be the topic of conversation. “He ran away from home to follow me, and I don’t know what to do with him.”
“You have no money, have you?” she said, removing her hand from mine.
“No, ma’am.”
“I believe I have the price of postage, if you’d care to send a letter,” she offered.
My fingers more certain now, I screwed the bottle cap on tight. I felt ashamed that I had considered her anything but virtuous—and felt truly relieved. “That’s very kind of you,” I said. “If I can find a place to leave Apollo so he won’t be able to follow me, I might send that letter.”
“Oh, precious biscuit. You don’t want them to take you home too, do you?”
“No, ma’am.”
She was silent for a moment, as if she pondered this. Finally she spoke all in a rush. “Be careful of Billy Sweet. He seems friendly enough, but his loyalty is to Mink. Mink’s show is his bread and butter, and it is in his interests to keep the show well stocked with acts, no matter what the method employed.” She turned to me, her bodice clutched to her chest, tears in her eyes. “Mink is a villain, Abel. Do not trust him or any of his minions.” She stopped suddenly, as if stunned at her own statement, then spoke in her regular voice. “Now, get out of here before my reputation is as blemished as my skin.”
“Thank you, ma’am,” I said, and left.
Hot, sticky night drew in close, but her gentle warning chilled me. If I understood her correctly, I was right in thinking Dr. Mink was the sort of villain who would steal a child for personal gain, and if he had taken Mr. Northstar’s son, then he or someone in his employ had killed Mr. Northstar’s grandmother. Yes, I would be careful of him. He was cultivating Apollo’s friendship and binding the boy to him. Who knew what he would do if he found I had plans to take Apollo away.
15
I HELD THE MOST BEAUTIFUL WOMAN in the world in my arms, her vibrant, lithe body pressed to mine. Slowly I lowered my lips to hers. The evening air was perfumed by the flowers on the vines that concealed us. The throaty songs of frogs serenaded our love.
Then came the thrash and hiss of ripping vines behind me and a man’s incoherent shout.
She stared over my shoulder, eyes wide and stricken. “We have been discovered!”
I tried to shield her with my body, but brawny field servants tore us from each other, and a man with a shaved head, in the linen robes of a priest, struck my face—her husband. His lips pulled back in a snarl that revealed blackened teeth. I struggled for a weapon I could not reach and cursed his name, Sethnakhte.
He towered above us like the god of destruction he prayed to. “How dare you betray me?” he roared at his wife. “Observe what happens to adulterers, for you are next.”
Servants stripped me despite my thrashing, while others flourished their whips. They pulled off a tube bound to my waist, and the hide split when it hit the ground. Out unfurled a map.
“Stop!” cried her husband, and the world stood as still as pictures in a tomb except for the man who reached for the stolen document. His face grew thunderous as he examined it.
