My gasp was loud enough to catch Trey’s attention. “What’s the problem?” he asked.
I gestured at the poster and barely kept my voice under a shout. “Look at this!”
His eyebrows bunched together as he looked at the poster. “That’s trouble. We should get out of town. Now.”
A bevy of excited voices broke out behind us and I glanced over my shoulder, ready to grab the pack and run. Instead of looking in our direction, a dozen or so people were looking up and pointing at the sky.
One of the men in the group spoke in a booming voice, “That’s not an osprey, you buffoon. It’s too big and it doesn’t have a white head.”
“What is it then?” called another person. “It’s getting closer.”
A woman’s shrill voice cut into the argument. “It’s a dragon, you fools.”
Trey grabbed my arm and spun me away from the growing group of excited, jabbering people. “Ignore them and stand there so no one sees me.”
“Why?” I asked, confused by his request.
He rummaged in his pack and held up a quill pen in one hand and a small bottle of ink in the other hand. “Because I’m going to fix this picture so no one will recognize you.”
I caught my lower lip between my teeth and held it firmly so I wouldn’t ask questions and distract him. He dipped the pen in the ink and started drawing on the poster. The first few strokes thickened my eyebrows and made the underlying bony ridges more prominent. The pen moved to my nose and broadened it, leaving a distinctive flare to the nostrils. Another few strokes widened the chin and gave it a square appearance.
The hubbub behind us was growing louder and I risked taking a quick glance over my shoulder. No one was watching us. I heard a man screech in a high-pitched voice, “It’s getting really close. Run!”
“You’re a coward,” another man bellowed. “It isn’t all that big.”
I turned my attention back to Trey and realized I was watching magic in action. The ears on the face in the sketch seemed set farther back than before and the cheekbones were more pronounced. He had altered the picture so skillfully I couldn’t tell the new lines from the old ones. No one would say I looked like the face in the picture.
“I’m done here, but you need to keep wearing the beard,” Trey said as he put the stopper in the ink bottle and flipped the last of the ink off of the pen. “Let’s go join the crowd watching the dragon.”
Chapter 9 – Marketplace Surprises
Everyone was watching the dragon and no one seemed to notice when Trey and I joined the crowd in the middle of the square. The dragon was high in the sky, but still close enough her iridescent golden skin glowed against the background of blue. She tilted up on one wing and started gliding towards the village.
“Out of the way!” shouted a short burly man trotting our way from the direction of the knife shop. He was holding a long curved bow and a fistful of arrows. He dropped the arrows by his feet and gave a loud grunt when he strung the bow. He snatched up an arrow, nocked it into position, and stepped out into the square, looking for the dragon.
I jerked around, tearing my attention from the man with the bow, and looked up. The dragon was much closer, barely above the tallest trees, and moving fast. She was close enough I could see short black horns and white teeth and a red tongue in her open mouth.
The sight of the dragon shocked me so much that I whirled totally around and had to turn back to keep my eyes on it. Zephyr had said this dragon was intelligent and I knew few details other than she could magically hide her mind. She had circled far above us and watched us walk, but hadn’t attempted to harm us. Had she been involved in destroying one of the powerful opals or had she stolen the other one?
I was still trying to make up my mind about interfering with the archer when he gave a loud snarl and drew back the arrow with a powerful pull. The string twanged and the arrow shot directly at the dragon. My quick attempt to push the arrow aside while in flight had no effect. The range was short, the archer was a good shot, and the arrow struck home on the chest of the dragon.
To my surprise, the arrow shattered rather than penetrating and splinters of wood flew in every direction like an exploding dirt clod striking a log. The dragon gave a shrill defiant bugle so loud it hurt my ears and then darted upwards with a flurry of beating wings.
“That was stupid, Tobias,” shouted a woman. Her shrill voice sounded like the woman who had first identified the flying creature as a dragon and her next words carried over the mutters of the rest of the crowd. “You can’t kill a dragon with one little arrow. All you did was make her mad.”
The words caught my attention and I tried to identify the woman in the milling crowd. She knew what a dragon looked like, she knew this one was female, and she apparently knew something protected it against arrows. How did she know that? What else might she know?
I grabbed Trey by the arm as the dragon dwindled to a small dot in the sky. My voice was low but rough. “Did you see which woman berated the man with the bow?”
He looked up at me and shook his head. “No. I’m too short to see over the crowd.”
“She knows something about dragons,” I muttered as I studied the others. The dragon apparently wasn’t coming back and small groups of people on the edges of the crowd had started to move towards merchant stalls.
“Let’s go get some bread,” Trey suggested. “We can use the time to listen to others talk. I didn’t see the woman, but I would recognize her voice if I heard it again.”
Two women were buying bread when Trey and I entered the shop. The smell of freshly baked bread was wonderful and I simply stood there, inhaling deeply, while the others pointed out their purchases. At home, there hadn’t been money to buy flour, so bread was a rare treat.
One woman set a basket on the counter, tucked two large loaves into it, and covered them with a small cloth. She handed money to the merchant, a tall grey-haired woman, and asked, “Have you ever seen a dragon before?”
“Not me,” the tall woman answered with a shudder. “But Idonea used to live near the mountains up the Gackle River. She said dragons occasionally fly over there.”
I moved closer to the counter when the other women moved away with their purchases and pointed to a fresh loaf of bread. “I’ll take that one and some butter.”
“Of course,” the woman said without moving to pick it up. “Do you have money?”
Rather than make a scene over the implied put-down, I reached into the small pouch holding stones for my sling and extracted a small bronze coin. I held it up without putting it in her outstretched hand. “This should be enough for two loaves, butter, and a small container of honey.”
Her eyes narrowed as she studied my face and I began to wonder if my magical beard had changed. I certainly hadn’t thought about it for a while. Finally, she nodded and extended her hand, palm up. “Sold.”
The bread was wonderful. Trey and I ate half of one loaf while we wandered through the other stalls, listening to conversations. Everyone was so excited about the dragon they didn’t seem to notice two strange boys hanging around. This was the first dragon to fly over Glendale in living memory and everyone had something to say. Unfortunately, we didn’t learn anything new other than Idonea’s name, and I wasn’t sure I wanted to talk directly to her.
Finally, Trey looked at me when no one was close enough to overhear. “We should buy food for traveling and then get out of town. Someone might still connect you to the face on the poster.”
“You changed the poster,” I said.
His eyes narrowed and he gave me the same look that Mother had used when I said something without thinking. “I changed the picture, but I can’t change minds. Someone will eventually notice the changes I made, but I hope they don’t point it out to others. Besides, there may be other posters.”
I felt a wave of heat move up my throat in embarrassm
ent. “You’re right. I can wait here with the packs while you buy what we need.”
“Good plan,” he countered. “We also need to figure out how we are going to get more money. Mine will run out after three or four visits like this one.”
“Mine too,” I replied. After he left, I carried both packs to a bench made from stumps and rough-hewn planks. The packs went on the bench, one on each side of me, to keep anyone from sitting beside me before I sat down and tilted my hat over my face. No one would be able to see my features as I made a quick magical scan looking for trouble. Even though several people in town seemed ready to explode emotionally, none of them were in the square. In addition, none of the anger seemed focused on a specific target.
On the previous trip, I had seen the bright magical glow coming from the shop where the merchant sold knives and cutting tools. It was a Guldur Stone, and Zephyr was convinced it had come from an old intelligent wolf killed in a landslide. She had also been adamant I shouldn’t try to get the stone because one of the Vassago would follow and kill the person carrying it and drain the stone of power.
Zephyr hadn’t explained anything about the Vassago, other than implying they were evil. My intention to ask more questions had gotten derailed more than once. Was Zephyr deliberately not telling me more? I was still wrestling with conflicting thoughts when Trey arrived and sat on the other end of the short bench.
He handed over a small bag and then held up a wooden comb. “The bag has food for your pack and I got you a comb.”
“Thanks,” I said, accepting the items and getting to my feet. The new things fit easily in the top of the pack and didn’t add a lot of weight when I swung it up on my shoulders.
By this time, Trey was on his feet settling his pack in place for walking. “I learned a couple of interesting things. We can talk about them when we start out of town.”
“That way,” I said, pointing toward the south. “We take the King’s Road and then turn left at the second road after we leave town. It’s called Jude’s Road. A huge cedar tree at the intersection is easier to see than the little wooden sign. We will follow Jude’s Road for about an hour. Aunt Yedda and Uncle Inigo have the only a two-story stone house on the road and they also have a big stone barn.”
“I’ve never been down that road,” Trey said, glancing around as we left the market square and started along the dirt street.
We had just passed the second house when a woman emerged from behind another house and turned our way. Her long grey hair spread out over her big dark shawl as she walked quickly in our direction. She was almost as tall as me.
Trey nodded in greeting and spoke politely as we approached the woman, “Hello.”
“Hello yourself,” she said amiably and then abruptly stopped, forcing us to stop or walk around her.
I moved to one side, nodding courteously, just as Mother had taught me, even though this woman’s actions seemed at odds with her tone of voice. Trey moved to the other side as we both continued walking.
The woman raised one hand and said, “Wait,” in the same way Mother had talked when she caught me being naughty.
Surprised, I stopped and looked at her. Trey also stopped and pivoted to face the woman.
She gestured at my face. “You have a nice beard. It’s new, isn’t it?”
The beard looked natural when I didn’t touch it, but I hadn’t practiced making it look natural when I stroked it. I forced myself to keep my hand away from my face as I thought about her words. I had never met her before today and she seemed to know unexpected things about me. My first instinct was to duck and run as fast as possible, but there wasn’t anyone else close by. A quick magical touch indicated her emotions held comfort and concern rather than greed or fear. “Yes,” I said.
“The poster has a good drawing,” the woman replied with an easy smile. “Polina drew it, and she had never seen you.”
“Never seen me?” I asked with raised eyebrows. This woman knew something but she didn’t seem to be stalling for time or preparing to shout for help. “What does that mean and why are you telling me this?”
“A short, bald, middle-aged man who lives on the far side of town described you well enough for Polina to make the drawing. Later, others saw the same man talking to one of the four thugs and giving him the picture.”
Muscles cramped in my back from fear as I thought about the new revelation. Tzadok, who was my uncle through marriage to Mother’s older sister Nathania, was short, bald, and middle-aged. He was the only bald man I knew and he didn’t want anything to do with magic. “Does this man have a name?” I asked and then clenched my teeth.
Her long grey hair moved over her shoulders as she shook her head. “The name doesn’t really matter. What is more important is that the four thugs work for another man who lives far south of here. That man is very dangerous.”
I saw the color drain from Trey’s face as he understood what the woman was saying. I also recognized the reference to the King’s Hunter and decided to reply, hoping she would tell us something new. “We had one short encounter with the dangerous man. It did not go well.” I jerked my thumb towards Trey. “He lost…” My throat tightened and I stopped explaining.
The woman took a quick breath and then nodded slowly. “Then you already understand the danger. I knew Maude before you were born.”
I was starting to learn a little about the devious ways people thought and talked, but her words shocked me. Speechless for a moment, I tried to think. I had never seen this woman and didn’t know if she was telling the truth. If she was, why approach us now? What could she tell us? She seemed to already know who I was, so I decided to check her truthfulness without revealing too much information. “Maude? My mother?” I asked quietly.
“She took care of you from the time you were a small baby but she wasn’t your birth mother.”
I made a beckoning gesture to the woman with one hand and raised the other hand to keep Trey from asking a question. Apprehension and curiosity warred for supremacy as I studied the strange woman and curiosity barely won. “Why are you talking to us?”
“I liked Maude.” She stopped and moistened her lips with her tongue before continuing. “Someone needs to stop the dangerous man who does evil things. It’s important that you leave before he finds you.”
“Thank you.” I wanted to say a lot more, to stay and talk to someone who had known my foster Mother, but that probably wasn’t wise. I hitched my pack into a more comfortable position and started to step around the interesting old woman.
She placed her hand on my arm and said, “There is one more thing. The Gackle River flows through the Danzig Mountains far to the west of here. You should visit a tavern called the Pig’s Ear near the headwaters of the river.” She dropped her hand, stepped back, and her next words sounded like a benediction. “Peace go with you.”
Trey and I started walking, and neither of us said anything. I glanced back when we passed the next house and the old woman was still standing there, watching us. I looked back again when we reached the corner in the road beside the next house. The old woman had vanished.
“What was that all about?” Trey asked after looking back at the empty street. “How does she know about the Pig’s Ear? Why would she bring it up?”
“We’ll talk about that in a little bit,” I promised. “Father told me two weeks ago that Maude wasn’t my birth mother and my Grandfather Demarcus owns the Pig’s Ear. I’ve never met him.”
“What?” Trey exclaimed. His eyes were so wide his face looked distorted.
“I said, we’ll talk about it,” I reiterated. “But first, tell me about the interesting things you learned.”
“They’re nothing compared to what that woman just told us,” Trey said.
“Tell me anyway.”
Trey took a deep breath and let it out with a whoosh. “There were two things. First, the King wan
ts more production from the mine. He is trying to hire workers because there aren’t enough able-bodied convicts.”
“The working conditions are nasty,” I said automatically, “especially in the winter.”
“People here know that,” Trey answered. “There was a rumor that new workers won’t be told the truth before they arrive.”
“Sounds like things people say about the King,” I said sarcastically.
“Yeah,” Trey agreed. “The other thing was about that big group of armed men who visited the mine and then came through here. There were so many of them buying food and supplies that most merchants ran out of goods. They refused to pay the normal price and the merchants lost a lot of money.”
Even though it was warm, goosebumps rose on my arms. The irritation I had felt during a previous scan of townspeople apparently had a common cause. “Didn’t they protest?” I asked.
Trey shook his head. “You don’t protest too much when men carry swords and bows. Now, tell me about the Pig’s Ear.”
I had been trying to think about that topic even as Trey talked. “I think we should visit. The old woman said to go, Father said to go, and the people your parents met talked about it.”
Trey looked interested. “Sure. How do we get there?”
“We go down the river to Falkirk and then up the Gackle River, as she said. It may take a while because I don’t know where the tavern is located.”
“That’s not a good idea,” Trey said.
“Why not?” I demanded.
“Oh, I want to go with you,” he said. “But the first work crew for the mine should arrive within the week. We don’t want to meet them on the road to Falkirk.”
I shivered, thinking back two weeks to when one of the guards of a traveling group of men had shot me in the back while I was running away from them. Determined not to have a repeat, I looked south towards the horizon. Nothing moved on the road, but a golden dragon glided across the road just above the treetops in the distance.
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