During the last few days, she had become increasingly disturbed. Something was happening to her, she did not know what, but she sensed it, as surely as she could sense hurt and pain in all living things. She was to be a healer, this she knew. Since the death of Manolo, the clan had done without a natural healer. Now her mother who was the herbalist plus two other women who had studied healing under Manolo, took care of sickness among the Gypsies. But none of these women were natural born healers, and none possessed what Manolo had called her third eye. That ability to enter the mind of a person and trace the pain. Neither could any of them detect the body aura or soul, that energy light that surrounds a person and lets one judge the seriousness of their illness. This Manana had been born with, and she found it frustrating to feel and sense something, yet not be able to place it. She hoped Pierre could give her at least a small clue to her discomfort.

 Pierre decided this silence could not last for ever.

  `To what do I owe this visit', enquired Pierre.

 Manana remained silent, unable to form the words she was looking for.

  `Speak Child', urged Pierre gently; `you can talk freely with me, I can see your disturbed'.

  `It's hard Pierre', Manana started to explain; it's difficult to find the right words to phrase what I feel'.

  `Then just relax, and say what comes into your mind', advised Pierre.

Manana placed her cup on the desk and looked Pierre directly in the eyes.`It's this feeling I've been having, she said. `For the last couple of days, I feel there's an incredible amount of tension in the air. I've looked around and I seem to be the only one who has noticed or sensed it'. She paused and looked at the old man inquisitively, `I just can't place it, she went on, `everything seems to be in order, the work is going well, nobody is ill. I've walked through the villages, and nothing seems amiss there. They treat me no better or worse than they have always treated our people, yet the tension I feel seems to be building up. Oh I don't know Pierre', her voice rising in desperation. `It's so frustrating not knowing what to think'.

  `Slow down and calm down Manana', Pierre told her; perhaps a little to harshly.

  `Have you consulted Liola the soothsayer. She would understand these things better than me'. Manana told him she had.

  `And', asked Pierre.

  `Oh, she looked at her charts, consulted her tea-leaves and told me the signs were healthy. She also said it could be because I'm reaching women-hood and will have my first moon bleeding soon', she said, slightly embarrassed.

  `That sounds logical', Pierre replied. `Yet you think not, you think it could be something else. A problem or danger?

  `Yes, that's exactly what I think'

  Pierre did not respond to this, but sat silently looking at the young girl before him. Manana did not want to break the silence, knowing when Pierre was occupied in deep thought. After a lengthy pause, he asked her if she had been troubled by strange dreams of late. Now it was Manana's turn to pause.

  `Yes', she told him. `Since we arrived in the valley six weeks ago, I have had unusual dreams, and even some nightmares'.

  Pierre frowned. He was well aware of Manana's exceptional physic gifts and like every one else, accepted them as a gift from nature to the child.

  `Can you recall any of them', he asked her.

  `Only bits and pieces' came the reply. `I recall dreaming of fire and priests, they were shouting and hurting me. I also saw myself flying over the valley, and the clouds looked like people who were calling me. In the same dream I saw the face of an Eagle staring at me, it looked to small for one of the great Eagles, but it could have been, it was so young and helpless. Then I dreamed I was lost and father was searching for me, I could see and hear him, yet I couldn't answer his call.

I also dreamed I was falling from the sky. I just kept falling, further and further down I would fall, there seemed to be no end until Finally, I would wake covered in a cold sweat. What I find most disturbing is that my dreams seem to be the same one, repeating itself

  Pierre's expression was solemn. `I think Manana, what you are feeling is directly related to these dreams you have been having. You have amazing gifts bestowed upon you by nature, these dreams maybe a premonition, a small glimpse or insight into the future'.

  Manana looked at Pierre with a growing sense of awe; she had suspected the same thing herself, it was comforting for her to hear her own thoughts presented to her in such a knowledgeable fashion.

  `You must have guessed something like this yourself', he told her; making Manana wonder if he had some physic gift himself allowing him to read minds.

`What you must remember child', he continued, `is that you do not know how to control these physic gifts of yours, and you should count yourself lucky that you can not. If you are seeing what may happen in the future, it will be a heavy burden to carry, one that may bring the mind to insanity. I really believe, that with your coming of women-hood, your subconscious mind is sending you signals, and as you do not understand the signals, you are naturally uncertain what to make of them.

Maybe what I have said will not reassure you completely, but for the moment try not to think to much about your dreams. Then maybe, and I emphasise the just maybe, these feelings will go away. Also try drinking some rosemary tea, before you sleep, your mother will tell you: it works wonders against troubled dreams. Finally, I hope my advice makes you more at ease. I'm sorry I can't help you more. This is something beyond even my knowledge, and it is for you and your own subconscious must come to terms with.

 After this lengthy speech, Pierre took a long sip of his tea and looked to Manana.

  `So', he suddenly exclaimed, Making Manana jump out of her own deep thoughts.

  `Why don't you read to me a little. it's been a long time since I've had that pleasure.

  With the sudden change of subject, Manana worries suddenly seemed less important. It's true, she thought, it has been a long time since we read together. She had almost forgotten how much pleasure the old man derived from her reading sessions.

  `Any particular book' she enquired, her eyes searching among the stacks, wondering what he would enjoy the most.

  Pierre mused for a little while. `How about the story of Francisse and the animals', he answered.

  Manana's feature lit up in happiness. The old wise devil, she thought; he knows that's my favourite. Turning to the shelf where she knew he kept the manual, she took it down, opened it to the first page and slowly began to read.