doesn’t care for being dragged into other peoples’ problems. Magicians are people; plenty of them want to be left alone, and there are always the ones that use their abilities selfishly. That’s not against the law or even our customs, or anything like that, but . . .” she shrugged. “You can imagine how someone like that would feel about constantly being asked to do this or that for the common good.”
“Like a rich man being asked to give to the poor,” Giselle grumbled, already disliking these people, and she didn’t even know who they were. “It isn’t as if they couldn’t spare a bit to keep someone from starving. But when you see them being approached, often as not from the way they react you’d think they were being asked to sacrifice a limb.”
“Exactly. But if it’s any comfort, magicians who only use their powers for selfish purposes don’t get any help when they are in trouble.” Rosa paused with one foot on the steps to her vardo. “But to get back to our wretch . . . whoever it is has to know now that not only are you a Master, there are two other Masters here who helped you ward your wagon. Yet whoever it is only seems interested in you. That makes me think it has to be someone you’ve had some sort of encounter with in the past.”
Giselle shivered, and the shawl wasn’t helping with the cold sensation of vague fear Rosa’s statement made her feel. “Me too. But I can’t think who it could be.”
“Well, think of the bright side. It might not be anything sinister at all! It could just be you have a very shy admirer.” Rosa laughed, but Giselle frowned. She didn’t like that any better! If someone was an admirer . . . it might sound romantic to be gazed on from afar, but the reality was, it was extremely uncomfortable to know you were being watched but not know by whom!
“In a way, that seems worse,” she complained. “Why would he sneak around like this when I’m out in public all the time? Why would he hide himself? I haven’t been unkind to a single person who’s approached me, even when they were horribly intrusive.”
“Because he might not be a he. It might be a she.” Rosa’s eyebrows arched, as Giselle’s jaw dropped. “Yes, I am implying what you think I am implying. But I will come right out and say it. It might be a female who finds you attractive in the romantic sense.”
“But . . . but . . . but . . .” Giselle sputtered, her brain coming to a complete halt. How was that even possible?
“It happens, in nature, and with humans, my dear friend,” Rosa said, sounding more sympathetic than Giselle had expected. “Wolves, swans, geese, all of these sometimes mate with their own gender. Sometimes boys prefer boys, romantically, and girls prefer girls. Any priest would tell you that is an abomination, but in the Bruderschaft we are more . . . pragmatic. Frankly, we don’t care. It harms no one, so why should one care who someone else loves? The only time it’s been awkward for me was when I knew that another young lady had gotten a pash on me, and I am afraid my affections don’t tend in that direction, no matter how ‘mannish’ I may act.” She shook her head. “That may be the case here. You have a secret admirer, and she is afraid she will be rebuffed.” She waited, watching Giselle, as someone over in the camp played a harmonica into the night.
Giselle finally got her brains to work again. “No,” she said firmly. “No, I really do not think so. This does not feel at all as if someone is shy, nor does it feel as if whoever is doing this admires me in the least. This feels distinctly unfriendly, I’d even say hostile at times.”
The harmonica player switched tunes to something livelier. “Then it has to be either someone you have encountered in the past that considers you unfriendly or even an enemy, or someone who thinks that you have somehow wronged him, or . . . it might be a magician hoping to steal your power.” Rosa sucked on her lower lip.
“How likely is that?” Giselle asked. She frowned in consternation. “Mother never said anything about . . . something like that happening.”
“About as likely as the other possibilities.” Rosa thought for a moment,