Men always leave, Cassie thought, her throat aching. They both left me. And now I'm alone… here. If only I had somebody else to talk to… a sister, somebody…
Eyes still shut, she let the hand with the crystal trail down and fall into her lap. She was so exhausted with emotion that she couldn't even get up to go to the bed. She simply sat there, drifting in the lonely dimness until her breathing slowed and she fell asleep.
That night Cassie had a dream-or perhaps it wasn't a dream. She dreamed that her mother and grandmother came into the room, moving noiselessly, almost gliding over the floor. In her dream she was aware of them, but she couldn't move as they lifted her from the chair and undressed her and put her to bed. Then they stood over the bed, looking down at her. Her mother's eyes were strange and dark and unfathomable.
“Little Cassie,” her grandmother said with a sigh. “At last. But what a pity-“
“Sh!” her mother said sharply. “She'll wake up.”
Her grandmother sighed again. “But you can see that it's the only way…”
“Yes,” her mother said, her voice empty and resigned. “I can see that you can't escape destiny. I shouldn't have tried.”
That's just what I thought, Cassie realized as the dream faded. You can't escape destiny. Vaguely she could see her mother and grandmother moving toward the door, and she could hear the whisper of their voices. She couldn't make out any words, though, until one sibilant hiss came through.
”… sacrifice . . .”
She wasn't sure which of the women had said it, but it echoed over and over in her mind. Even as darkness covered her, she kept hearing it. Sacrifice… sacrifice… sacrifice…
It was morning. She was lying in the four-poster bed and sunlight was streaming in the eastern window. It made the pink room look like a rose petal held up to the light. Sort of warm and shining. Somewhere outside a bird was singing.
Cassie sat up. She had a confused memory of some kind of a dream, but it was dim and vague. Her nose was stuffed up-probably from crying-and she felt a little lightheaded but not really bad. She felt the way you do after being very sick or very upset and then getting some deep, restful sleep: strangely spacey and peaceful. The quiet after the storm.
She got dressed. Just as she was about to leave the room, she noticed the chalcedony lucky piece on the floor and slipped it in her pocket.
No one else seemed to be awake. Even in the daytime the long passage was dark and cool, lit only by the windows at opposite ends. Cassie found herself shivering as she walked down the hall, and the dim bulbs of the wall lamps flickered as if in sympathy.
Downstairs was lighter. But there were so many rooms that when she tried to explore, she quickly got lost. Finally, she ended up in the front hallway and decided to go outside.
She wasn't even thinking about why-she guessed she wanted to see the neighborhood. Her steps took her down the long, narrow country road, past house after house. It was so early, no one else was outside. And eventually she ended up at the pretty yellow house with the towers.
High in one tower, the window was sparkling.
Cassie was staring at it, wondering why, when she noticed motion in a ground-floor window much closer to her. It was a library or study, and standing inside was a girl. The girl was tall and slender, with an incredibly long cascade of hair that obscured her face as she bent over something on the desk in front of the window. That hair-Cassie couldn't take her eyes off it. It was like moonlight and sunlight woven together-and it was natural. No dark roots. Cassie had never seen anything so beautiful.
They were so close-Cassie standing just behind the neat hedge outside the window, and the girl standing just inside, facing her, but looking down. Cassie watched, fascinated, at what the girl was doing at the desk. The girl's hands moved gracefully, grinding something up with a mortar and pestle. Spices? Whatever it was, the girl's movements were quick and deft and her hands slender and pretty.
And Cassie had the oddest feeling… If the girl would only look up, she thought. Just look outside her own window. Once she did, then… something would happen. Cassie didn't know what, but her skin had broken out in gooseflesh. She had such a sense of connection, of… kinship. If the girl would just look up
Yell. Throw a stone at the window. Cassie was actually looking for a stone when she saw movement again. The girl with the shining hair was turning, as if responding to someone inside the house calling her. Cassie had a glimpse of a lovely, dewy face-but only for the briefest instant. Then the girl had turned and was hurrying away, hair flying like silk behind her.
Cassie let out her breath.
It would have been stupid anyway, she told herself as she walked back home. Fine way to introduce yourself to your neighbors-throwing rocks at them. But the sense of crushing disappointment remained. She felt that somehow she'd never have another chance-she'd never get up the courage to introduce herself to that girl. Anyone that beautiful undoubtedly had plenty of friends without Cassie. Undoubtedly went with a crowd far beyond Cassie's orbit.
Her grandmother's flat, square house looked even worse after the sunny Victorian one. Disconsolately, Cassie drifted over to the bluff, to look down at the ocean.
Blue. A color so intense she didn't know how to describe it. She watched the water washing around a dark rock and felt a queer thrill. The wind blew her hair back, and she stared out at the morning sun glittering on the waves. She felt… kinship again. As if something were speaking to her blood, to something deep inside her. What was it about this place-about that girl? She felt she could almost grasp it…
“Cassie!”