Her Energy awareness wasn’t potent enough at this distance to give her the exact location of those she sought, only the vicinity, which could encompass an entire town and a slew of bodies. So many emitted heat against her senses that she broke a sweat in her attempts to sift through the throng. Only when she was close to the youngling would her awareness reveal more. Soon, not more than a few sunrises from now, the calling would be upon this girl, and she would be a threat, even to herself.

And Haranda needed to get back to the others, those she had rescued from their middling homes and hidden away outside the city. For some reason, the Goddess had decided all her rescues thus far would be female, and she’d been saddled with several young women. Three highborn girls who thought the sun shone for them alone, and one who preferred men’s breeches to skirts and had a mouth like a drunken sailor.

She shook her head as she walked on, keeping to the shadows when she could, and wishing her kin could have accompanied her. But there were so many younglings to locate and too few Gypsies to wrangle them all. Everyone had a task and Haranda’s was here in Makrilon, a bawdy city in the same Prefecture where she’d been born. Thankfully, not the same city.

Her head ached and she fought to keep her composure when two middlings stepped from the alley and flanked her. Not now, idiot boys. She held the Energy, preparing to use it only as a final option. This wasn’t the place to let anyone know she was a Gypsy. Not if she preferred her limbs still attached to her body. She fought a shudder and pushed away an awful memory.

A boy barely into adolescence drew close. “How’s about a little roll in the hay, pretty woman?” His breath smelled of wine. His friend made an agreeable comment. Despite their youth, they were almost as tall as Haranda. The first one snagged her cloak and tried to pull her into the alley.

She planted her feet, using the strength of the Energy to hold her place. The boy seemed confused as to why he couldn’t topple her. Drunk as he was, she hoped he wouldn’t remember much in the morning.

Forcing her voice low, she leaned toward his ear. “If you don’t release me, I’ll scream for a guard.” Festival nights were the only occasions women could safely walk the streets of Makrilon after dark. The only time the city put extra guards on the streets. Merchants here made a lot of money at festival, and the city collected a good amount of taxes. The sun had set and the waxing moon shone overhead, threatening to grow to full pregnancy by tomorrow night.

The boy laughed and tried to pull her into the alley again. She shifted her weight, twisted her arm out of his grasp, grabbed him by his soiled collar and flung him into the wall. He bounced off with a cry and stumbled before righting himself again, cradling his arm. At the very least, she had bruised it, but he wouldn’t feel the full effects until his drink wore off. His friend started toward her but she had her belt knife out before he could take three steps. Her two assailants seemed to sober up quickly. They also decided she was too much trouble and hurried off in one direction, only to see a guard coming their way. They backpedaled and sprinted down the next alley.

Another delay. Haranda cursed under her breath and sheathed the knife. As she willed her nerves to quiet and her hands to stop trembling, she smoothed her cloak and pulled her hood into place. From the position of the moon, she guessed Mistress Lane would soon be preparing night meal. At middle night, she would send the girls to the Flindering farm alone.

Most likely, Eletha would have no trouble making the trip. But the rest were young and pampered. I can’t let them go alone. And I can’t leave this youngling here. Goddess, curse these superstitious middlings.

She let her awareness guide her again, grateful she hadn’t needed to use her Energy on those boys, and uttered a relieved, “Thank you,” to the Goddess for that one. She added a silent thank you to her Gypsy kin, who had taught her to defend herself, something her root parents never would have done.

Not all middlings were against Gypsies, but Makrilonians were a bloody superstitious lot, even more so than their Agnarian cousins. In this city, suspicious outsiders got blamed for bad luck quicker than a hawk could snare a rabbit, and a Gypsy may as well have a target drawn on her back. The horrifying image she’d worked so desperately to bury emerged again and she almost stumbled. Rage and grief threatened the placidity she’d taken from the Goddess Energy. Even after a year, this city still held her emotions captive. Grief could wait, had to wait. Vindication would come but she needed to hurry. Others like her were out gathering younglings. Many already headed to the Land of the Goddess, some she hadn’t seen for a long while, but like her grief, they must wait.

She walked on, annoyed that drunken men and boys had pawed her all evening. She didn’t dare use her Energy except to save her life or that of her youngling. Not here. Not tonight. She gave a nervous glance at the waxing moon and quickened her steps. Where in the blazes was the girl? She was near, probably within three or four buildings. Haranda had already scoured the rest of the city. If only her Energy were more exact. If only she could locate new younglings before she was on top of them. If only....

No use wishing for what cannot be, Gypsy Haranda Banwidden, she chided herself in the manner of her former clan mother.

She held the Energy within, as aware of the blood rushing through her veins as she was the middlings who bustled about the streets. Animals roamed through the crowds but they were easy to distinguish, wild, and not as hot to her senses. Somewhere nearby, the faint tickle of a youngling teased her through the Energy, but where?

Onward she strode, down the torch-lighted streets, peeking in alleyways and behind wagons, a sluggish process that kept her on knife-edge. The moon gave additional light but that was its only comfort. Haranda felt the chilled, night air as a distant nuisance through the Energy, but she didn’t wish to be noticed so she pulled her cloak tighter to keep her face hidden.

As she rounded another corner, she felt the definite presence of a youngling vibrate against her senses, fluctuating but strong. Finally!