Read Online The Hawkweed Prophecy by Irena Brignull - Free Book Online Page B

weren’t at the dell.”
    Ember looked apologetic. “My mother told me I must stay away from there.” Poppy raised her eyebrows and Ember quickly added, “I wanted to come, though.” She reached down into a leather satchel by her feet. “I’ve been carrying this in hope that I might see you.” She pulled out an old, cloth-bound book. “I wanted to bring you something to look at. To thank you. You showed me your book of learning, so . . . ” Ember trailed off nervously, then held the book out to Poppy, shutting her eyes as if in fear as she did so.
    â€œAre you sure?” Poppy asked.
    Ember opened her eyes and nodded. “I want to.”
    Poppy took the book and opened it carefully. She flicked through the first few pages. There were dried flowers stuck to the paper, labeled and detailed. Later on she found drawings of reptiles and mushrooms and berries.
    â€œYou mustn’t tell anyone I showed you, though. Not ever,” Ember added.
    Poppy quickly glanced up and saw the gravity on Ember’s face. “I promise. I brought you something too.” Her hand felt in her pocket and she pulled out the crushed bag. “Sorry.”
    Ember took the bag eagerly and looked inside. She pulled out the manicure set and gasped. “Oh . . . thank you . . . thank you! This is the best gift I’ve ever received.”
    A thought suddenly struck Poppy. “Do you know what it is?” she asked.
    â€œNo,” admitted Ember with a big grin on her face. “But no matter. I love it.”
    â€œIt’s for your nails. If you want to shape them and buff them and paint them.” Poppy shrugged. “If you like that kind of thing.” Ember’s eyes widened with amazement. “Don’t get too excited. It’s only a manicure set.”
    A sudden look of worry crossed Ember’s face. “The paint!” she despaired. “How will I get it off?!”

    Ember sat against the rocks, beautifying her nails with such artistry and attention, it was as though she were creating a masterpiece. She had been instantly placated by the knowledge that the set contained a liquid, like an antidote, to remove the polish, andso had set to work immediately. Meanwhile Poppy had spread her coat wide, laid down, and begun to read.
    Ember’s school book was an epiphany. Its curious mix of biology, astrology, chemistry, and poetry had Poppy captivated. She marveled at the intricate drawings of a bird’s wing, a frog’s leg, a newt’s tongue; the study of the night sky’s constellations; the rhythm and vocabulary of old recipes and sayings. She was enthralled by it like she had never been by any book before. It felt foreign yet familiar, though Poppy couldn’t fathom how. She just let her brain soak in the facts and the diagrams, memorizing them so she would never forget.
    â€œYou’re so lucky,” she murmured to Ember, who was appraising her handiwork.
    â€œI wish I were you,” whispered Ember to Poppy, as she realized it was time to head home.

    They made a pact to try to meet every afternoon. As soon as Poppy would leave school, she’d jump on the bus heading out of town, get off at the stop at the foot of the hill, and then start her climb toward the dell. With her she’d bring gifts of shampoo and conditioner, toothpaste and a toothbrush, and other such tiny luxuries. She’d arrive with her bag stuffed full with books, newspapers, and magazines, and Ember would flick through all of them, her eyes darting over the words and the pictures of presidents and foreign countries, of vast cities and oceans, of architecture and sports. She devoured it all like it was food and she hadn’t eaten in weeks. She said the names of the places out loud, committingthem to memory—Rome, Tokyo, Sydney, and, her favorite, Paris. Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, Notre Dame—these she whispered as if casting a wish.
    Ember scrutinized