The First Midnight Spell by Claudia Gray Read Free Book Online

First Laws.”
    â€œThey’re just made-up rules. Like the laws of the colony—no, not even that. Like the rules of a childhood game. I won’t live by them—not when they’d cost me the man I love, and not when there’s no good reason.”
    â€œBut there is good reason.” Pru was pleading. “We obey the First Laws to limit our powers. To understand that there should be limits. If we claimed ultimate power for ourselves—can you not see how wrong that would be?”
    That made Elizabeth hesitate, but only briefly. Her anger was tempered, now that she better understood Pru’s fear. “I don’t want to claim ‘ultimate power.’ I only want to marry a man I actually love. That’s what we all want, isn’t it?”
    Pru shrugged; her eyes welled with tears. “I’m scared for you. That’s all.”
    â€œDon’t be.”
    â€œPromise me you’ll think about what you’re doing. There are other men in the world, Elizabeth, but you’ll never have another family or another home.”
    I can create my own family. I can make a new home.
    Elizabeth only smiled. “I’ll think,” she said. She didn’t say about what.
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    In the afternoon, some of the men got into the whisky—which wasn’t unusual. Instead of shouting or getting into fights or making nuisances of themselves, though, one of them went and got his pipe, and before long they were all singing and clapping in the town square. This meant the same people who would once have scolded instead drew near, laughed, and even began to dance.
    By the time Elizabeth reached the gathering, her hands chapped from work and her apron muddy, the revelry was in full swing. She saw little children hopping up and down, and Aunt Ruth dancing with one of the old men (who used a cane but was managing fairly well, considering). At the edge of the crowd, Pru danced with Jonathan Hale, both of them smiling into each other’s eyes as though nobody else existed in the world.
    Nearby stood Nat Porter.
    His face lit up when he caught a glimpse of her. “Elizabeth! There you are. You’ve been hiding from me lately, haven’t you?”
    â€œNever,” she swore. “I never would.” Your wretch of a mother has been keeping us apart.
    â€œWill you favor me?” Nat said, holding out his hand. Elizabeth’s heart sang as she took it, and they joined the dance.
    The next few minutes were the closest thing to real happiness Elizabeth had ever known, or would ever know. Sunlight dappled the square and turned Nat’s hair to gold; his hands were warm on hers, and his smile was for her alone. Her feet seemed to dance the steps without her having to think about it, or about anything else besides Nat being next to her. The beat of the music sped her pulse, and before Elizabeth knew it she was singing out loud, not caring if anyone else heard her terrible voice. What did it matter? The important thing was to sing.
    When that song ended, people clapped, and Nat said, “You’re a lovely dancer.”
    â€œAs are you.” Should she not have called a boy lovely? He didn’t seem to mind. Elizabeth beamed up at him.
    The men struck up another song, and Elizabeth knew Nat would again reach for her hand—but just then, the Widow Porter stepped out of the crowd. Her smile might have disguised her emotions well enough for anyone else, but Elizabeth could sense her fear.
    â€œNat, my dear boy,” Widow Porter said. “I know you’d rather be dancing with pretty girls, but even we old ladies sometimes like a lively tune.”
    â€œOf course I’ll dance with you, Ma.” Nat gave Elizabeth a sunny smile before sweeping his mother into his arms and making her laugh as he twirled them both in a circle.
    It wasn’t as though Elizabeth hadn’t made up her mind even before Widow Porter interrupted their dance. She had. But