The Woven Crown (Completed)

Chapter 19

It took Ryla a second to realize what she was talking about. "You found another Woven?"

"I think so. It's coming from somewhere in the crowd. I need you to come see if you can see it too. Willem's come to look after him," she said nodding towards the other end of the wagon where Rhid slept.

They hurried through the now empty streets to the packed square. Ryla wove as she ran, making sure her hair was hidden. Graphiel sat in front of the bonfire, enthralling his audience with the same tale Ryla had heard every Opening Night of her life, and now knew was a lie. They entered the area partitioned off for the Caravan in the back to stand with Thistle and the rest. They waited for their turn with the crowd in a little space they had set up behind the twin's wagon.

Yulia stood just around the wagon's corner, facing the crowd. Ryla peeked around her at the faces washed in the light of the fire. Somewhere out there was a Woven like them. She saw tired faces with the grime of a hard life etched permanently in their faces and wondered if it was someone who had been hiding their secret for a long time. Or were they a wakeling, like herself, who were confused and frightened by their new identity?

"Do you still feel it?" she whispered to Yulia.

"Yes, but with this crowd it's hard to narrow it down to a single person... the thread is hidden between so many other life threads. But it feels like it's coming towards this direction, near the front." She pointed to the far side of Graphiel. Ryla squinted at the crowd in that direction. The children all sat at the front for Graphiel's story time. No one stood out. What was she looking for anyway? A Woven wouldn't look any different from the people around them.

Ryla closed her eyes and felt with her magic. She pushed her Sight out over the crowd and was immediately overwhelmed by the immensity of life threads. It was like seeing through hundreds of needlework patterns, one on top of the other, without being able to detect which came first. She wondered how Yulia could make sense of it all.

She was scanning through the threads, picking her way through one by one when she saw the familiar glow surrounding one thread.

"There! I saw it!" she said to Yulia.

"Yes, I saw it to. They must have used magic."

Ryla opened her eyes and scanned that section of the crowd. "Can you tell anything about the person by their thread?" she asked.

"It seems small, less frayed than most."

"A child then?" said Ryla looking at the faces of each child sitting in the front row.

"Yes, I think so. Can you tell if any of them are weaving?"

Ryla looked at their faces a second time. Then, on the edge of her vision, she saw a familiar face. The little girl with the split lip. Except, the cut seemed to have healed over already.

"I think I see her," Ryla whispered.

"Keep watching her. I'm going to go talk to Thistle."

Ryla watched as the girl sat cross legged, leaning as if pulled physically forward by the words of the storyteller.

"Which one is it?" That was Thistle, murmuring close to her ear. Ryla pointed.

"Ah, yes. We will have to wait until the performances are over. If not, we risk causing a commotion or losing her if she runs. Keep an eye on her 'til it's over. We can coax her with dinner."

But as soon as the words were out of her mouth, Graphiel brought his story to a close and the girl slipped back into the crowd.

"Don't worry," said Thistle. We can go searchin' for her after. Don't forget— we've been doing this for a time and know the likeliest hidey-holes."