Changing of the Glads by Joy Spraycar Read Free Book Online Page A

then peered into the shadows of the trees.  Max was nowhere to be seen.  Another shiver rocked her, but this one had nothing to do with the air or dewy ground.  His absence sent fear clawing at her gut and shook her confidence.  Had they been discovered?
    The solitary log they’d sat on earlier drew her attention.  Something lay spread across rounded wood.  For a moment, curiosity drove her from the protection of the bearskins.  What was this?
    She crawled over, careful to remain as quiet as possible.  Now she saw the knife sitting against the far side of the felled trunk and let out a sigh.  Max wouldn’t have left without his weapon.  If there had been a fight, she was sure the knife wouldn’t be lying exactly where he so carefully placed it last night.
    She stood, her head cocked to one side as she studied two pieces of hide.  Where had these come from?  Picking one of the strange garments up, she held it out, turned it over in her hands, and took it in from every angle.  One end was large and open, and opposite was a smaller opening.  Just under the small hole and off to each side sat two even smaller openings.  This reminded her of the clothing Platy called dresses.  But this was too short to be a dress, and Zalphia had never worn anything like this.
    She tossed the hide back onto the log and picked up the other piece.  Now this, this she had no clue about. It also boasted one end completely open, but the sides were closed.  A split ran up the middle on the bottom, forming two pieces that were about ten-inches long.  She laid the garment next to its partner and scanned the area for her familiar Glad garb.  She knew how to wear that and was comfortable in it.
    A deep rumbling chuckle sounded from behind her.  She leapt over the log, grabbed the knife, and whirled around.
    “Whoa, there.”  Maximillion held his hands in front of him.  “No need for that.”
    Zalphia rolled her eyes.  “Don’t scare me like that.”
    “Could not help myself.”
    She threw the knife’s blade into the ground.  “What’s so funny?”
    “You and your cluelessness at how to don simple clothing.”
    “Simple?”  Zalphia waved a hand over the hides spread before her.  “How you consider these simple is beyond me.  Where’s my gear?”
    Maximillion shook his head.  “Long gone.  You will never wear the Glad gear again.  Fighting is man’s work.  Women are to be cherished and protected.”
    “But I thought we were to lead a rebellion?”
    He chuckled, his eyes twinkling.  “All in good time.  But for now, we must get you cleaned up.”
    In the light of day, he looked so different.  Or did she see him differently?  The arena dust that still clung to her skin no longer lightened his.  She thought yesterday that he was dark, but now his skin rivaled what remained in the fire pit.  His eyes stood out like the midday sky, lighter blue than she remembered from last night.  She even misjudged his height.  She fit neatly between his pecks and didn’t reach the top of his shoulder.
    “Cleaned up?” She studied the mirth dancing deep in his eyes.
    “You know, take a bath?”
    Zalphia’s brow furrowed.  “A bath?”  She’d used pails of water to wash what she could from her exposed skin, but a bath?
    He rolled his eyes and shook his head, his chest again vibrating in a soft chuckle.  “Yes, you know, washed with water and untangling that mop you call hair.”
    She was still pondering what he meant when he scooped her up, took her to the stream, and dumped her in.  Sputtering, she stood in the icy water and glared at him.
    “The cold is easier to take all at once than if you go little by little,” he said as he waded in beside her.
    “I see you don’t mind taking it easy.”
    “I already bathed this morning.” 
    Standing perfectly still, she watched as he took a small hard stone and rubbed it across her forearms.  The stone left a film that bubbled like water being poured into a