“Queen of all the gypsies?” I asked, trying to find her magical current. Nothing about her felt human, her secret knowledge of things, her violet eyes, but at the same time, nothing felt Immortal about her either. She was a puzzle to me.

“Not all the gypsies!” She scolded, “Only queen of my gypsies!” She flung her arms forward enthusiastically and then her outstretched hands swished back and forth in time to the music.

That was not an explanation for me, but I smiled along as if I understood, assuming she meant just this village. People had started to dance near the music, and I watched as Sebastian and Kiran found partners to join them in a cultural dance that was expressive and fast. They swung their partners around, clapping on beat and then passing them off to another man just as eager to receive them. Talbott reluctantly was pulled in also and soon all three boys were laughing, breathing heavy and dancing the elaborate steps like experts.

“And so you would like to ask me a question,” Ileana broke our silence and my watchful stare of Kiran who had just lifted a young girl in a long peasant skirt by the waist, twirling her in a circle and then set her down only to pass her off to Talbott.

“Well, I guess, I do have a question....” I hesitated, not wanting to offend the Gypsy Queen. “I cannot feel any magic in your blood, Ileana, but still I know you’re not.... human.”

She let out her crackling laugh that rang with ear-piercing pitch through the village. “No, I am not human and I am glad that you noticed!” When I blushed in embarrassment, she continued, “I am not Immortal either, I am both.” She let the novelty of what she said sink in and I turned to listen to her, hoping she would explain. “My mother was a gypsy princess, and my father was an Immortal Witch. So you see, I am both.”

“I didn’t know Immortals married humans,” I said with rapt attention.

“They don’t,” she snapped and her face tightened into an expression of hate totally out of character for her and absolutely terrifying to me, before relaxing back into the woman I recognized. “My father and mother met in these mountains and fell in love. Their relationship was, of course, forbidden, but they had fallen for each other. There is nothing a man will not risk when he falls in love, isn’t that true?” She turned to me, her violet eyes dancing in the firelight, and waited for my answer.

“I wouldn’t know,” I mumbled. I shifted uncomfortably under her direct stare and still she waited. “It was true for my parents,” I finally conceded having the terrible feeling she wanted me to acknowledge Kiran.

“That is true,” she answered happily. “So, my parents, much like yours, married in secret, and my father left the Citadel. At that time, he had been at school with your king. They were happy here. They were free. When your king found my father months later, the Guards killed him. In front of this village, they killed him. But they left my mother alone, for it is not intended that Immortals kill Mortals, even your monstrous kings believe that. She did not know she was pregnant at that time. And when she birthed me, half human, half Immortal, she raised me here. I am close to both people here, but I only belong to one. Just like you, Eden, you feel more human than Immortal, I think, but you do not belong in this world. No, child, you are an Immortal.”

I sat back and thought about her words. She was right, I felt more human than Immortal. Thrust into a world I hardly understood and expected to live a fairytale life I could barely take seriously, my feet stayed grounded in the human world. But my blood resonated with magic and my heart beat in tune with a people I scarcely knew. I would be their leader one day, it was time to let go of my bond with humanity.

Well, my bond with everything but Aunt Syl.

“Does Lucan know about you now?” I asked, wondering how he would treat her if he did. I knew he did not hurt humans, no Immortal did. As far as Immortals were concerned we shared the same planet, but their existence was sacred and our destinies never needed to intertwine. Well, until me.

“I’m sure he’s heard rumors, and I cannot be the only one out there like me, but he leaves this village alone now. He got what he came for more than a hundred years ago; there has been no reason to come back. I am half human after all,” she admitted sadly.

“If Lucan hasn’t been back, then how did Kiran come to know your village so well?” I questioned as I watched in disbelief as he danced with an elderly woman who was keeping a very fast tempo. He pretended to struggle to keep up with her, and at the same time treated her very gently, with the absolute care and respect.

“Amory started bringing the prince and his bodyguard here when they were just little things, barely up to my knees. After Lucan released Amory and they signed their truce, Amory visited the castle and our village often. When the prince was born, Amory made regular journeys to spend time with him and as he grew, Amory included him in everything he did while he stayed in Romania.”

“Do you mean my grandfather? Amory?” I gasped in disbelief. Neither Kiran nor Amory had ever mentioned that they spent so much time together or that their relationship existed before Kingsley.

“Yes, your grandfather, of course!” She slapped my knee as if I were being ridiculous. “Kiran grew up worshiping Amory, following him around like a shadow when he was here. This village is as much a part of Kiran’s childhood as that old castle is.”

“That can’t be true!” I argued, forgetting my manners.

“Now is the time to get to know him, Oracle,” she answered me with patience. “There is much to learn before you decide how to end this. Much to discover.”

I stayed silent for a few minutes, thinking over her story. I couldn’t believe that Kiran ever respected Amory as much as she claimed. Kiran was the reason my grandfather was dead, the reason Amory sacrificed his life! Besides, if their relationship was so strong, why hadn’t they ever told me about it? Why hadn’t I heard one memory from either of them that included the other? It didn’t make sense.

“But you will rise to the throne. You will end Lucan, yes?” She asked more as a command than a question.

“Yes,” I promised. I could have answered with uncertainty, or explained my difficult situation, but there was no doubt left in me that I would be the one to kill Lucan and end his tyranny.

“Good,” she whispered with dark ferociousness. Her face hardened and I could see the years of hatred, the years of desired revenge for the death of her father. I agreed with her. I felt her pain and then I added her injustice to the long list of others for reasons this war was being fought.

“Enough business for tonight!” She exclaimed. She jumped to her feet with the spryness of youth and I laughed aloud at her energy. “You are too beautiful to keep company with an ugly old hag! You must dance!”

I started to protest, but she pulled me out of my chair with surprising strength and shoved me into the crowd of dancers. The large group danced with their arms around each other in a circle around the bonfire. Their feet moved in intricate steps, twisting around each other and back and forth before they would reverse directions and the entire circle would jerk to a stop, clap their hands and then begin again in the opposite direction.

“No, you don’t understand, I can’t dance!” I shrieked as she tried to pass me off into a dark-eyed, shirtless teenager’s arms.

“Ah, I see,” she laughed at me. “First you need tuica!” She snapped her fingers and motioned to a group of men passing around a clay pitcher, drinking from the lip of it.

“I need what?” I asked, horrified as she passed the bottle to me, lifting it to my lips.

“Tuica! Drink!” she commanded.

I tipped the pitcher, intending to just taste the mysterious liquid, but she bumped the bottom of the jug so that it flowed forcefully into my mouth. I swallowed the burning liquid hinting of dried fruit, choked on the powerful liquor. The incredibly strong gypsy moonshine brought tears to my eyes and sent a shiver down my back. I glanced back at the dancers who were now moving in foursomes with elbows linked in complex patterns and elaborate lifts and spins and brought the tuica back to my mouth, gulping down more than I could handle.

I passed the pitcher back to the men, wiping my hand savagely against my mouth while they laughed at me. I took a big breath and then walked into the crowd of dancers hoping magic would lead the way. The tuica warmed my blood and made me dizzy, giving me courage that I did not entirely trust. But I smiled from the adventure of the night and sought out Sebastian bravely.

Before I could reach Sebastian, a curly-haired gypsy youth stepped in front of me, picking me off the ground and lifting me in the circle the dance required. I grabbed his shoulders, laughing at the absurdity of being swung about. He set me down at the appropriate time and then passed me off into the arms of another young gypsy.

I tried to keep time and follow along, but I was helplessly awful. The only thing I was good at was holding tightly to whichever male was twirling me in the air. It was fun though and soon I was laughing and having a good time. The music ended with the crowd clapping their hands and shouting “Oompa,” in a joyful, unified voice, but started immediately with the low, melancholy excitement that made my blood pump faster.

I turned to find another willing partner, hoping to find someone patient and slow, when I bumped into Kiran who was just about to tap me on the shoulder. He smiled at me, his eyes full of delight and took my hands before I could protest.

We danced wildly with the music. He gently pushed me into the right place and then lifted and spun me with practiced care. He laughed at my missteps until we were both out of breath and unable to keep up with the quickness of the dance. Tears of laughter fell from my eyes until he led me by the hand to the side where we sat down and rested for a little bit, letting the hilarity subside.

“So, I’m just awful!” I sighed, leaning in to him and nudging him with my shoulder.

“You really are!” he agreed, still laughing.

Someone walked by and handed Kiran a pitcher of tuica which he took and said a few words in Romanian. He offered the pitcher to me and I politely accepted, taking a small drink. The liquid burned my throat and heated my stomach, but it was not altogether bad. I passed it back to Kiran and he took a long swig of it, quenching his thirst.

“Thank you,” I gushed genuinely. “Thank you for bringing me here.”

He didn't reply; he just looked at me. He leaned forward on his elbows that rested on bent knees, with his head cocked my way, just looking at me. I felt his decision to say something to me. His eyes flickered with a burning desire to share something with me and I held my breath in anticipation.

“Eden....” he started and then paused reluctantly. He leaned toward me, and reached out to my glowing tattoo that became exposed during the dancing. “I, uh, this is my most favorite place to come.”

I let out a long breath of relief, and I knew my eyes showed my obvious concern for what I thought was going to be shared. He turned away from me, leaning his forehead against his knees, staring down at the ground. I felt bad for a moment, just one moment and then I saw the knowing smile on his lips. He knew what he was doing to me, making me worry. This was still a game to him. I was still a game to him.