“We ought to be hidden for at least another day.”
He left the “ought” unquestioned. “Maybe Fefferman’s somewhere in the park. Look for a pile of laundry with legs.”
They walked. Austin led Corinna through the gauntlet of flowers he had encountered on his first visit. A weekday, the park was sparsely populated, and Austin busied himself in scrutiny of each figure he could spot at distance through the trees. None matched Fefferman or Maeron. He was about to ask if either of them were able to alter their appearance when Corinna spoke instead.
“I apologize for getting you involved in all of this,” she said. “Not that I did, but Rhianon. She apologizes, rather. Or, I think, she would have, if she were — oh bollocks it all, you know what I mean.”
“Seems pointless to apologize for something she didn’t know about.”
“I didn’t say it was rational. She didn’t want anyone else to get hurt.”
“I used to apologize for venting to Rhi when I’d had a lousy day. I didn’t want to give her cause to be frustrated on my behalf. She scolded me and told me that was part of being in a relationship — the good stuff gets shared and the bad gets easier because you deal with it together. Or something. I don’t remember just how she put it, but it made sense.”
“This is a trifle different.”
“I wouldn’t really be involved in this at all if — ” He caught sight of a dark-haired man in the distance, peered to reassure himself it wasn’t Maeron, and went on. “ — if I hadn’t loved her. If this is the cost of being with her, well, I guess I’ll pay it.”
“Even if it gets you killed?”
“You think that’s likely?” He didn’t want to answer her question. He wasn’t sure he wanted her to answer his. “Anyway, you scolded me last night for feeling bad about putting Rhi’s picture online. And if I weren’t involved, maybe Maeron would’ve found the crystal some other way. Then there’d be no one to help at all.”
“Well you’re a right selfless bastard, aren’t you?”
“I like the thought of helping Rhi. And I don’t like the thought of her being sorry to me for anything. Even by proxy.” He shrugged. “Do you actually feel sorry? Or were you just thinking about what Rhi would think of all this?”
“Ah.” Corinna gazed across the river. “Still think me the heartless thief?”
“No!” he said, probably too quickly. “I didn’t say that. But, you know, you keep doing the ‘I’ and ‘she’ thing.”
“You asked about that before.”
“And you keep doing it.”
“Aye, I do.” Her eyes briefly caught his as they walked. “Feel sorry. But it’s . . . complicated.”
“Because you’re juggling memories?” he guessed.
“You could say that.”
“Is there a way to separate them out? Without destroying them, I mean.”
“At this point? I don’t know. But even if it’s possible, it would take enough magic to jeopardize the dragon’s containment.”
“What if that wasn’t an issue?”
They traveled a few paces before she answered. “My da favored a saying: What’s done is done.” They were approaching a tiny brick restroom, and Corinna pointed. “I need the loo. I shan’t be long. Give a shout if you spot him.”
“I’ll be here.”
Austin kept a protective eye on her as she trotted the short distance to the restroom door and went inside. He then kept watch on the park, considering her answers.
Boden stirred. “If I may venture a learned opinion as a being of not inconsiderable arcane power, I do not believe that is entirely true. There may exist a way to undo what is done, with the proper magic. Do not abandon hope in any case.”
“What do you mean?”
Corinna wondered if she should stop worrying about her pronouns. While both felt accurate, she still didn’t want to confuse Austin. Obviously he had cared for Rhi, as he knew her. It felt disrespectful to fully usurp that identity, especially given the pain Corinna had caused in stealing the pendant in the first place.
The irony, she supposed, is she might not have considered such things at all before Rhianon’s memories became a part of her. On the one hand, it felt so natural now, as if she had always had them. On the other hand, Corinna also clearly remembered her life of two days ago when she didn’t have them. She felt no different, and yet knew she was. While driving to Worm’s Head, she had wondered if she ought to feel more annoyed at the fascinating situation she had gotten herself into, but that struck her as getting annoyed at having two feet.
Should she not have lied to him about separating the memories out? It was possible she had a fair shot at being able to do it, if she had to. As there was no way, short of returning to Rhyll, to power the magic outside Boden’s aura, it was a moot point she didn’t want to distract Austin with.
Regardless, she found herself considering telling the truth. She had covered poorly; the thought that he might suspect as much tugged at her insides. Was that because she didn’t want him to know, or because she didn’t want him to know she had lied to him?
“You engage in far too much navel-gazing for my tastes, Rhianon,” Corinna whispered to the restroom mirror. Her reflection smirked back. “And now I’m talking to myself. I’m so very chuffed.”
She washed her hands, fixed her hair, and gave in to the impulse to wave at herself before rushing back outside. Austin remained where she had left him, seemingly talking to himself, too.
“Still railing against our looking for Fefferman, is he?”
Austin returned her smile. “Just a little.”
They resumed their search. It lasted the rest of the daylight with no sign of Fefferman. Then, soon after they had come back to the bridge and were simply waiting and pitching rocks into the water, he was behind them.
“Debt’s repaid, I said!”
They spun to face the source of the crotchety ambush. Corinna found herself staring at a much more colorful pile of laundry than she had imagined, wrapped around an old thiesm. With his squinting purple assessment of her completed in moments, he rattled on at Austin.
“You left, Mister Austin! Good and gone, out of ol’ Fefferman’s worries! Now yer back, bringin’ friends!” Fefferman stopped for closer scrutiny in Austin’s direction, and then continued just as abruptly. “And yer lookin’ hinky! Thought you was smarter than that! Explain yerself, standing there like a pooka bit yer crotch! Speak up! Who’s she?”
Corinna fought to hide the grin threatening to erupt. She gave up as Austin fought through a stutter. “Corinna,” she answered for him, and turned to Austin. “A pooka bit your crotch?”
“That’s right! Did ol’ Fefferman a favor, he did, foolish-selfless knucklestick!” He pointed at Austin, glaring at her. “I told him to leave!”
“I did,” Austin managed. “But I’m back, ah, obviously. We need to ask you about the gomlen.”
“Debt’s repaid, I said! Ain’t got no choice, now! Still got it, have ya?”
“No, but it came in handy. Which is mainly why we’re here.”
Fefferman cackled skyward and broke into a momentary jig. “Packs a punch, don’t it? Told you! Told you Fefferman did, Mister Austin-Foolish Austin!”
“Saved my life, actually.”
“Have you any more?” Corinna pressed.
“Ahhhh,” Fefferman breathed, leaning closer to her. “Oh, she knows! Not like these others, walkin’ about like they’re stuffed and feathered! She knows about the magic! You’re a believer!”
“And I’m Irish, so I’ve got that going for me, too.”
Fefferman sucked his teeth. His gaze ricocheted between her and Austin.
“Er, do you have any more?” Austin asked.
“Might. Debt’s paid. Rat-bastard, streaky-white! Might.” The thiesm stepped back a pace. “Why?”
“We’re in trouble.”
“It’s a long story,” Corinna added.
“Story? Ain’t got nothin’ but time, an
d rat-bastard strings, all tying me up! You lot, you follow Fefferman. No place for stories out here.” He spun and hobbled down the slope toward the underside of the bridge, beckoning. “Thieves and ravens, they’re out here!”
They followed Fefferman’s lead and passed through a narrow concrete passage that led into the ground beneath the end of the bridge. The passage was unlit. Austin had to remove his pack and exhale just to fit inside. Though Corinna had only caught a brief glimpse of Fefferman entering, she suspected the rotund thiesm managed the feat himself only through supernatural means.
They had to feel their way through. The passage folded on itself at right angles in a narrow, three-cornered turn until, after perhaps ten paces, it opened up into a larger alcove. A match flared, illuminating a candle and Fefferman’s face hanging like a potato in the darkness. He squinted at both of them and jerked a finger to his lips.
“Shh!” he shot. “Not here! Follow, then we’ll see!”
After handing the candle to Austin, Fefferman scooped up a burlap sack from a sleeping bag on the dirt floor, rummaged through the sack a moment, and tossed it back down. A faded blue quilt boasted almost as much grime as the back wall on which it hung. Fefferman lifted the quilt to reveal a new passage. He stared at Austin again in the candlelight.
“Hinky, peculiar look you’ve got now, Mister Austin.” Fefferman ducked into the passage without further explanation. Austin followed after. Corinna took the rear.
She imagined the passage to be what a mole tunnel must feel like from inside. It smelled of wet earth. Occasional tree roots reached out from the walls and ceiling. Some covered half the passage such that they had to crouch and crab-walk around them before they could go on again. Even where they didn’t, there was hardly enough room for Austin to pass without stooping, and what little light glowed around him from Fefferman’s candle painted Corinna’s view in shadow. She considered creating a magical light of her own but decided against it. Though she continued to marvel that she knew how, there was no need to risk magic so trivially, or let the thiesm know she could.
Feeling her careful way forward, it struck her how much that restraint disappointed her. A lifetime of memories of using magic was nearly as palpable as the magic she had used to save Austin the previous day. She tried to put out of her mind the frustration of having to deny herself further experience with it.
Besides, more light meant a greater chance of illuminating spiders crawling along the walls or dangling precariously above her. She didn’t know if there were any this deep — she knew little about their hunting habits, only that they invariably made her skin crawl — but she judged it better left unexplored.
Mud had soaked through to her socks by the time they reached a dry stone landing in front of an iron-banded, wooden door.
“Where are we?” Austin asked.
Fefferman only held up a careworn palm for silence, then pressed his ear to the door as Corinna and Austin exchanged looks. Apparently satisfied, out of a pocket in the raggedy chaos that formed his shirt he drew a key as thick as her finger. It slid home into the lock. A grinding turn and a click later, he pushed against the door. It didn’t budge. The thiesm blinked back at them, smile crooked, and threw his shoulder against the door to force it open a crack. Hinges protested as Austin added his help, and soon they had opened the door onto darkness.
Corinna peered around them. She saw nothing. “Not a place you come often, I take it?”
“Feh!” Fefferman withdrew the key, shot her a glare, and squeezed through the opening. Corinna caught Austin by the shoulder to whisper in his ear.
“We shouldn’t let him lead us much further.”
Austin nodded silently as Fefferman called at them to hurry up. They kept on and found themselves in a stone room that was bare save for a scattering of debris. The ceiling gave barely more clearance than the tunnel. Fefferman had already reached the opposite end of the room where he fiddled with the lock of a second door. Eyeing the cobwebs in the corners, Corinna guessed with some relief that they would not be lingering.
“Are we in the castle?” Austin asked.
“Old Cardiff Keep! Run-down, broken. Just like ol’ Fefferman, eh?”
The second door opened easier. They passed into a spiraling, worn stone staircase lined with a length of thick rope to serve as a handhold. The door closed behind them, and they climbed, silent but for the sound of Fefferman’s near-constant wheezes of exertion and mutterings too soft for her to discern.
She counted three stories before the staircase ended in another door, this one open and leading out to the keep’s rooftop. Fefferman blew out his candle amid the glow of the Cardiff skyline that twinkled beyond the wall bounding the castle yard.
“Here,” announced Fefferman with a sweep of his arm. “Here is where we can see! Everything, everything, stretching out! To the water, to the light, to that blasted grime-sucking stadium and every cesspool of happiness in between! So you’re in trouble says you, eh? Can’t help you!”
“You brought us all the way out here to tell us that?” Austin demanded.
“No, no, didn’t say that, did I?” Fefferman cackled, waving them along as he dashed over to the crumbling crenelations that remained atop the wall. Corinna and Austin followed. He watched their approach, sucking his teeth. “What sorta trouble, eh?”
As agreed, Corinna let Austin do most of the talking. “There’s someone after us,” he answered. “And the gomlen worked so well before, I thought you might help us out with a few more.”
“Gomlens ain’t free, Mister Austin, oh no. Takes time to make here! You two ain’t old like me. You taught that pus-fartin’ thief a lesson! Mufflestink! You think you need gomlens? Why, eh? Why-why? Person after you’d got magic of his own, don’t he? Why’s he want you, eh? You know that one yet?”
“How’d you know it’s a he?” Corinna asked.
“How’d you know it isn’t?” he shot back. “Shouldn’t be able to use the magic at all, you two. Magic ain’t back yet, not yet, no nowhere near yet. I’d know it! So how’d you be usin’ a gomlen, eh?”
“I don’t know, it suddenly started glowing, and then it worked,” Austin said. “And yes, it’s a he. He can use magic, and, well, it works around him, so it makes sense the gomlens would work against him, doesn’t it?”
Fefferman eyeballed Corinna. “She tell you that one? Eh? Who is she, pretty girl with her pretty hair and her handy elbows, eh?”
“She’s a friend.”
“I’m from Rhyll,” Corinna added. She answered Austin’s surprised glance with a shrug. “What? I’m improvising.”
Fefferman pinched her shoulder. Though she had ample practice dodging pinches, she felt it before even seeing it coming. “You lying to Fefferman? Don’t feel like Rhyll, not a whit!”
“So you think. I’ve been here over four and a half years. How long have you been? Perhaps you’re out of touch with how it feels.”
“Where’s yer brand, eh?” He rubbed the triangle tattoo on his cheek.
“I had it removed. They can do that here, you know.”
Fefferman clutched her shoulders so quickly it made her jump, but he held fast, purple eyes peering into hers. “No . . . You wouldn’t be lying to old Fefferman, would ya? Stand there. ‘Gainst the light. Maybe . . .”
He guided her around in a dance-like spin until they had exchanged places with her back now toward the city, against the wall. He let go and stepped back. When he spoke again it was in Crensh, a tongue common to Rhyll. “What’s yer crime, eh? Who’d ya kill? They don’t much send humans through . . .”
“I didn’t kill anyone,” she answered in the same language, hiding the Kishian accent and her surprise at how easily the strange yet familiar words came. “I stole something, got caught, and when I tried to get away I ran into the street in front of a carriage. The driver swerved and it overturned, and a passenger broke her neck. It was an accident, but her family was powerful, and they blamed me anyway. They insisted I be pitched t
hrough the rift.”
Fefferman cackled again and then switched back to English, talking to Austin. “She speaks it! She speaks it! Don’t believe her for a minute I don’t. But she speaks it.”
“Look,” Austin went on, “regardless of whether the gomlens will work, we’re willing to trade for them if you won’t give us some outright.”
Fefferman just stared and sucked his teeth.
“I can buy them. I’m not rich, but I’ve got a little money.”
“Hah!”
“Or we can help you,” Corinna offered. “Do you favors in exchange, after we deal with things. One Rhyllian to another.”
Fefferman stopped his pacing, eyes agleam with momentary avarice before he spit to one side. “Favors, favors. Shop’s closed, but favors . . . Bite yer damned late timing!” He stamped in place, yelling, “Can’t! Can’t!” The wood of the keep’s roof knocked and creaked under the frenetic tantrum. “Fools, both of you!”
Corinna and Austin exchanged a glance.
“I don’t get it,” Austin tried, shouting over the tantrum. “What’s wrong?”
Fefferman stopped glare in turn at the both of them. “Can’t tell you! Nope, not yet, don’t want to!”
“Can’t tell us what?”
“Nope-the-nope! Don’t ask! You don’t want to ask, won’t like the answer!”
Corinna frowned. “Maybe. I like strange things. How do you know for sure unless you tell us?”
The thiesm’s eyes boggled with realization. “You have it!” he declared to Austin. “I’ll bet my lower lip you have it! Should’ve known! The crystal, the crystal from another world! Ha ha, a prison in a prison! Do you have it?”
Corinna reached for Austin on instinct, realizing too late the motion itself would sabotage any denial she meant to suggest he give.
“Crystal?”
“No lies, Mister Austin! Ain’t becoming in ya, they aren’t. You’ve got it, sure enough. That’s what I’m seein’, all the . . .” He waggled his hands about, motioning toward Austin’s head. “ . . . quaintness. Let Fefferman see it.”
Memory of Dragons Page 14