The Knaveheart's Curse by Adele Griffin Read Free Book Online Page B

presence of so many kind-hearted vegans, Maddy knew she’d be able to rake in some good moola.

She decided to work the room a little bit before the show. She stood, hobbling and tapping.

“Oops, I’m sorry!” Maddy exclaimed as she bumped into a man carrying a bowl of tofu turkey stew, the house specialty.

“No, I’m sorry,” said the man. “Maybe it was I who jostled you . Here.”

“Thanks.” Cool, a dollar. Maddy tapped herself back to her seat. She waited for the next person to pass by before she jumped up and stumbled into her.

“Careful, honey,” clucked the woman. “Poor thing. Your parents should get you a guide dog.”

“That’s what I’m saving up for.” Maddy sighed. The woman looked sad and gave Maddy all the loose change in her coin purse. Yes!

Maddy rammed into a few more people, collecting their donations, until her sister signaled her over.

“Enough, already, Mads.” Lexie reached up and snatched off Maddy’s sunglasses. “That is a totally inappropriate summer job.”

“Besides, it’s an insult to real blind people, who would prefer not to be thought of as charity cases,” said Pete. “And you can’t just smash against strangers all afternoon and scoop up their pity money—”

He stopped.

Guitar in hand, an extremely tall and willowy green-eyed girl with curled-at-the-ends auburn hair had slid up onto the high stool that marked the performance space. She tested the mike and waved to a table up front. Maddy craned her neck. The Elcris family—bleh! They were way too everywhere.

“That’s Zelda!” Lexie clasped her hands. “Don’t we look alike?”

“Eh.” Maddy could see it. All the parts of Lexie that didn’t look like Maddy—such as Lexie’s noodly limbs and plushier mouth—were mirrored in Zelda.

But Lexie’s excitement irritated Maddy. Zelda wasn’t Lexie’s twin or even her sister. Maddy was. And in a summer when it had been next to impossible to make a friend, Maddy had been relieved that sisters didn’t get a choice. They had to be friends. Even if one of the sisters pretended to be blind or gave away the other sister’s clarinet. Sisters were forever linked. That was a rule. Or at least, Maddy had always counted on it being a rule.

“Ooh, I hope she sings ‘The Rose’—the most tragic ballad in pop history.” Lexie sighed.

Zelda pulled a black guitar pick from behind her ear and strummed a few chords. “Just want to give a shout-out,” she said in a husky, accented whisper. “Thanks, everybody, for coming to support the arts.”

She strummed her guitar and played a few songs. She had a near-perfect voice, Maddy decided. And aside from having musical talent, she was a lot like Lexie. Was it the earnest way she sang those doomed songs? Was it how her green eyes seemed to flash both at and through the audience?

When she was finished, everyone burst into loud applause—though the Elcrises were loudest of all.

“Thanks.” Zelda smiled with the confidence of someone who was used to praise. “At my next concert, I’ll be sharing the stage with my newest star student, Lexie Livingstone, who is also my dear friend.”

“Oh my gosh.” Lexie started to hiccup from excitement. Pete thwopped her on the back.

“So come over to Dolly World,” said Zelda.

More clapping.

“Dolly World?” Maddy scrunched her nose. “Isn’t that a department store?”

“Shh!” Pete put a finger to his lips. “An artist has to start somewhere.”

After her last song, “The Rose,” which Zelda dedicated to Lexie, the lanky teen enjoyed a final round of applause before she tucked her guitar pick back behind her ear with a flourish and loped up to their table.

“Here,” said Zelda. She handed her guitar and pick to Lexie. “You can borrow it this week for practice.”

Maddy tried to roll her eyes at Pete, but he was concentrating on being supportive, and so he just looked away.

After Zelda had gone, Lexie turned to Maddy. “Outrageous,