Rosa and the Veil of Gold by Kim Wilkins Page A

booked my flight to Arkhangelsk?”
    “Yes, this afternoon at three. I’ll take you out to the airport myself as I have business in the area.” He indicated the pan. “Eggs?”
    She shrugged and perched on a stool at the bench. “Yes, but not too greasy.”
    He served her breakfast—fried eggs, too greasy, with thin pancakes—and sat opposite her.
    “Uncle Vasily, I think I need to explain something to you,” she said, not touching her food.
    “What is it?”
    “I didn’t give your priceless bear away on a whim.”
    He put down his knife and fork and swallowed a mouthful. “Then why, Rosa?”
    She took a deep breath, dreading invoking the spirit of her dead mother. “Uncle Vasily, I have the second sight, like Mama.”
    His eyebrows twitched. “You do?”
    “Mama told me you don’t believe in it.”
    “It was a long time since Ellena and I spoke of it. As I grow older, I’m more able to believe strange things.”
    “The bear…she gave off a shock of energy. To me. To Daniel.” Rosa wisely didn’t mention Em. “But not to anyone else. Not to you, or Larissa, or anyone who touched her at the bathhouse. Do you see?”
    “I think so.”
    “I let her go with Daniel because I thought she wanted to go.”
    Vasily drew his lips into a pensive line and was lost in thought for an age. Rosa ate a few mouthfuls dispiritedly. Finally, Vasily said, “Rosa, I didn’t know you had the sight.”
    “I don’t tell anyone.”
    He stood up, pushing his breakfast aside. His mood was urgent, decisive. “Come with me. There’s something I need to show you.”
    Puzzled, Rosa followed Vasily to his bedroom. He knelt in front of his oak dresser and pulled out the bottom drawer. There was a smell of old wood and sandalwood drawer liners.
    “Come, sit by me,” he said, patting the floor next to him.
    Rosa joined him, shrugging out of her dressing gown; Vasily always had the heating in his bedroom on high. The pale carpet was soft beneath her knees.
    From the drawer, he pulled out a flat wooden box which he opened.
    “Do you see this, Rosa?” he said, withdrawing a dirty silver bracelet which rattled and tinkled with charms.
    “What is it?” Rosa said, extending her hand.
    He dropped it onto her palm. “It was your mother’s. She gave it to me when they left Russia.” He chuckled. “She said Petr had insisted; that in the West she would have no need of good luck.”
    Rosa felt the tickle of magic from the bracelet. “These charms…”
    He pulled the bracelet into a straight line on her palm. “Rosa, it’s an amulet. Ellena started it when she was fourteen. She made a lot of these herself; others she found.” He pointed them out one by one. “Here, a ruby she engraved with an ‘E’ for Ellena. A silver knife, a silver key and a silver swallow. I don’t know what any of these mean. Maybe you could look them up in a book. Here, these are two of your baby teeth. Do you remember? When you were four, you fell off your bicycle and knocked them out.”
    “I remember,” Rosa said softly, reverent in the presence of such a wonderful, magical object.
    “These little bells she stole from a gypsy. The knots are just silver thread, but she told me these were the most important. Each of them tied her to someone she loved: so there is one for you, one for Petr, one for me. This miniature mirror is from her childhood dollhouse. This one…” He flipped open the last charm, a tiny locket. A piece of dried grass was glued inside. “She told me that this is grass she found growing through the eyehole of a horse’s skull. It was supposed to be a very potent charm.”
    “Mama knew about enchantments.”
    “She did. I once laughed at her for it.”
    “She hardly mentioned magic. Papa didn’t like it. When I was thirteen, she taught me a few protection spells and told me to be wary of my power.” Rosa dangled the bracelet in front of her and it spun slowly. “Apart from that, she honoured Papa’s wishes and didn’t