by Jada Fisher
“No.” I wasn’t normally so blatant in my disagreement on things. I usually liked to play things a little more diplomatically, but I could feel that if I gave Baelfyre a single inch, he would take it a mile. “I would like Bron to show me.”
A frown made its way onto the white-haired man’s face. It seemed like he wanted to come with us, but other responsibilities were holding him back. Maybe it would be better to use honey instead of vinegar, so I batted my eyes and gave him my best puppy dog look.
It wasn’t very good, but it wasn’t like things weren’t stacked against me considering I was five-foot-ten and borderline physically intimidating. It seemed to work, though, because Bron sighed and rubbed the bridge of his strong nose.
“I guess it wouldn’t hurt anything to postpone the meeting. It’s not as if they would discuss anything that we haven’t gone over a million times.”
“That’s the spirit!” Baelfyre said cheerily, clapping his cousin on the back. “I’ve told you before, and I’ll tell you again, you work too hard, my friend. What’s the use protecting your people if you don’t even get to enjoy spending time with them?”
“Well, for one, my people will survive.”
Baelfyre just laughed, shaking his head. “You’re always so serious. Come on, just a little bit of a break with the lovely damsels you saved can’t be all bad. I know I would be honored to spend any time with such beautiful visages.”
Ugh, gag. Did that work on dragon women, or did he just really like the sound of his own voice? “I’m not a damsel,” I replied shortly. “I’m a seer.”
“Right you are!” Baelfyre clapped his hands and looked into the room. “Is your ravishing friend coming along as well?”
“Mallory? Yeah. She’s just using the facilities.” While my room didn’t have its own bathing area, I was very grateful that there was an attached half-bathroom so I didn’t have to go all the way to the massive shower and hot tub area every time I had to go.
As if on cue, she came out and saw the two men standing in the doorway. “What, is there a party or something going on that I wasn’t invited to?”
“Not at all!” Baelfyre practically crowed. I could tell that he was extroverted and used to being the life of the party, but his every move just grated on my nerves. “You are definitely welcome to join us on a grand tour of the place!”
“Oh, we’re finally getting that show?” She rushed up to us, smiling broadly. “Does that mean after that, we’re finally going to get new clothes? These have been washed, but it’d be nice not to have to wear the same thing every day.”
Bron’s face clouded at that. “You mean they have yet to bring you clothes?”
I shook my head, gesturing to the same outfit I was wearing as the day he had rescued Mallory and I. “Honestly, I’m beginning to feel like a cartoon character.”
“That will not do at all. Come, I’ll show you around my home. Baelfyre, if you don’t mind, catch one of the help and ask them to bring a range of clothing, then join us toward the trellises in the back.”
Baelfyre’s smile faltered like he wanted to refuse, but instead, he gave a little salute and walked off, his swagger apparent even from halfway down the hall.
“I’m sorry I’ve been busy lately,” Bron said, looking to us. “Shall we start with my most favorite room? The kitchen?”
Mallory laughed, but I was too anxious to get going. But, before we did, I did have one question. “Hey, Bron?”
“Yes?”
“Do you have, uh, a glove I can borrow?”
He stared of me blankly before understanding dawned on him. “Oh, you need it to cover your hand. Dragons are immensely proud of scars, they’re a sign of life well-earned, so it will actually make it easier for you to have them visible.”
“Really? That’s not how the guys who kidnapped me reacted.”
Bron’s face darkened again, and I couldn’t tell if it was because of the reminder that I had been taken away for a short while, or the thought that someone had said something that made me upset. He certainly was protective for someone who hardly knew me, but I guessed that was kind of his thing. “I’ve been told that the faction that wants to take over the city is more…vain about appearances. Something to do with their king’s obsession with perfection. I don’t quite understand it and it’s not like we can open a dialogue about it with them.”
“No, I guess not.” I looked down at the pink, twisted flesh of my hand, wrist, and a tiny bit of my forearm. To me, it spoke of the worst times in my life, of hospital visits and painful skin grafts, of being too ugly to be adopted by couples who wanted regular children and too capable for couples who were looking for special needs kids. Could I ever see it as anything but a negative? I didn’t think so. “But still, for now, I think I would like a glove.”
Instead of arguing, Bron nodded. “I will make sure to have a selection delivered to your room, but, for the moment, shall we head to the kitchen?”
This time, I couldn’t help but smirk. “You really are hungry, aren’t you?”
“Always,” he answered with a wink, and then we were off and walking.
The stairs leading down to the first floor put the ones at Bron’s first mansion in the city to shame. They were twice as long, and I felt almost winded by the time we reached the bottom. It seemed a week in bed had really taken a toll on me. I was going to need to do some serious working out to get back my previous big-girl stamina.
Once we did reach the landing, we were off again, going to a door toward the back of the main hall then down a bunch of side corridors until eventually, we were dumped into what looked like a massive kitchen from a five-star restaurant.
“Holy…” I breathed, not even having a word to follow up with. The room was a strange mix of ancient and modern, sending my mind scrambling to figure out which timeline we fit into.
There was a massive stone oven. It reminded me of what you might see in a fancy pizzeria, but much more elaborate. There were multiple doors in it, and a whole section where I could see inside to the blazing fire within, and then another section atop that.
Only a few feet away was a completely modern fridge. It was like the one I had seen in Bron’s house, but twice as big and polished enough to be an actual mirror. Modern LED bulbs illuminated everything with a clean, bright light, while the floor was all ancient cobblestone, worn smooth. The cabinets were all from the current day, but dozens and dozens of ancient pots and other cooking tools hung from circular racks attached to the ceiling. It was such a bizarre mix that it seemed like a very confused time-traveler had built the whole place.
And the smells!
I hadn’t been hungry before, but my mouth was suddenly watering. So this was where my delicious meals had been coming from. With the way the multiple workers were buzzing around, I guessed that they were busy pretty much twenty-four/seven. How exhausting! I hope they were paid well.
“Master Bron!” one said, rushing past us to put a steaming dish on the large granite island. “I thought Master Arvus told you he will not make you a cake for mid-meal.”
“Wow, word got around that fast, huh?” The Prince laughed, and it was such a happy, unassuming sound. “I’m not here for the cake, however. These are my friends, and I just wanted to show them my favorite room in the entire place!”
“… you were just hoping that I gave them sweets as a welcome and you get to mooch off of that.”
The prince winked and I felt my stomach flip slightly. A strange reaction, but maybe after being exposed to Baelfyre’s smarminess, my mind was in shock to see someone genuinely charismatic.
“I protest, Gavin. It is my duty to be an honorable host, and isn’t treating your guests well the epitome of honor?”
The worker gave Bron a solid glare, but the prince held his amiable expression. I was actually pretty impressed. “Fine. I happen to know that there’s an extra small cream cake. Wait here.”
“Of course!”
The worker stalked off, past th
e fridge and into another room. Was there more to this kitchen than what was already in front of me?
It seemed so, because when the man returned, he was holding a fist-sized cake on a small plate, complete with two forks.
“For the ladies,” he said with a defeated sort of sigh.
“You’re the best,” Bron said as Mallory took it. “And now that they can taste your best work, I’m off to show them the library! Thank you again.”
We wandered out and as soon as the door was closed behind us, Mallory was picking up a fork and shoveling the sweet into her face.
“Oh man, this is delicious!” she declared, eyes wide.
“I’m glad to hear. Miss Davie, you should have some.”
Aw. It was cute that he was pretending he wasn’t drooling all over the confection already. “Actually, I don’t like cake. You can have my share.”
I swore his jewel-like eyes grew as wide as saucers. “Really? You sure?”
“Seriously, have at it. I’ve never been a huge fan of sweets anyway.”
I had never seen an expression that was such a mix of gratitude and disbelief, but Bron picked up a fork and happily dug in with Mallory. Not that she had left him much. She had definitely been eating steadily as the prince and I were talking.
It was these little moments of peace that helped me to almost forget the situation we were in. That there was an entire dragon faction looking for me and I apparently had strange, mystical powers. The three of us were just like college friends, all having fun while walking to the cafeteria. It was nice, and it made me feel like I hadn’t missed out on such a vital life experience.
“So, a library, huh?” I asked as Bron led us down more halls, too busy licking icing from his hand to play the role of tour guide. “You know most people have to go to one of those outside of their house.”
“Really? That seems terribly inconvenient.”
I stopped for a moment, unable to tell if Bron was being serious or not. “You’re kidding, right? You had to have known that.”
He shrugged and pointed to a large set of double-doors. “Ah, and here we are! I feel like you guys are really going to like this!”
Before I could call him on changing the subject, he was striding forward and throwing the doors open, revealing what had to be a book-lover’s paradise. I rushed along after him, mouth opening and closing in wonder as I tried to figure out what the heck I was trying to say.
It was beautiful.
The room was at least two stories tall with shelving covering almost every wall. I saw tomes, books, scrolls, pretty much whatever a book-lover could want and then some.
Several desks sat in the center of the room, all with their own lamps and high-backed chairs, as well as a few reading tables meant for multiple inhabitants at the same time, but the pièce de résistance was definitely the eastern wall.
Instead of shelving, or even a solid wall, it was just a glass partition looking over a beautiful garden. Natural light streamed in like something out of a movie, spilling across several easels and what I recognized as a complete paint set and brush selection on a supplies rack.
“Is…is…that what I think it is?” I asked, extending a shaking finger.
Bron didn’t answer, however. Instead, a man walked out from behind one of the bookshelves with what looked like a cup of fresh water in his hands. “Oh, I didn’t expect to have visitors today. And to what do I owe this honor?”
I just stared at the man openly. He was older, that was for sure, with wizened wrinkles in his face and a distinctive squint to one of his ice-blue eyes. He was cleanshaven, but instead of having snow white hair as someone might expect on someone his age, he sported a blue ponytail with the sides of his head shaved.
“Ah, I see you’ve just met Master Velas,” Bron said, coming up alongside of me. “He’s the official portrait maker for the royal line and curator of most of the library that you see here.”
“Actually, pretty much of all the library that you see here,” the older man said with a raised, bushy eyebrow. “And if I’m to hazard a guess, you’re a painter. Or at least an artist.”
I felt myself flush and looked at him with wide eyes. I wasn’t sure how that managed to surprise me of all things, but I didn’t feel like I looked particularly artsy. “How did you know that?”
“You’ve got a paintbrush and drawing notch on your middle finger from gripping your tools too hard, and I’d like to think that any artist can recognize another scoping out their supplies. The look you gave my paints was almost obscene!”
Now I could feel myself really blushing as he laughed, but he was right. “You do have a pretty impressive collection.”
Although I hoarded coupons like a champ and occasionally treated myself to a tube as a treat, I only had about ten or twelve different colors at a time. I mean, I made it work, and I loved my paints dearly, but this Master Velas had at least a hundred different shades. How could I not drool over it?
“Thank you. You’re welcome to it, if you ever want.”
“Really?!” I asked, my head snapping to his face so fast I almost got whiplash. “Are you serious?”
“Of course! It’s not often that I get to meet another artist around here. Too many dragons are only interested in their hoards or war, neither of which interests me.”
“No, but their secrets do,” Bron said, his tone still light and teasing. It seemed that he wasn’t some detached royal that lived apart from his subjects, but had friendly relationships with most of them. That had to be the sign of a good person…right?
I certainly hoped so. Or I was in for more trouble than I bargained for.
“Secrets?” Mallory asked, joining the conversation for the first time. I couldn’t be sure because I had been so distracted by the paints, but I was fairly certain that she had done a circuit around the entire room to check for danger before joining us in the conversation. “What do you mean by that? Like, blackmail stuff?”
Velas laughed. “No, not quite. I mean ancient arts and practices long lost to our people. As traditional as we seem sometimes, we have actually forgotten much in our evolutionary efforts to thrive.”
That piqued my interest, and I tore my eyes away from the paints once more. “Is there anything about seers or old magic?”
His head cocked to the side for a minute as he regarded me. “You’re her, aren’t you?” His tone was light as he asked, not confused or shocked, but I still couldn’t help but dislike it. I wasn’t ‘her’ and I wasn’t ‘the seer,’ I was Davie!
“She is my friend that we are currently harboring, yes.”
“I see,” Velas said with a grave nod. “Then yes, friend, there are even secrets buried in these pages about seers, soothsaying, and everything in between. Feel free to join me down here at any time. My room is actually adjacent to here, so all you must do is knock.” He gave me a bow and extended a mahogany, wrinkled hand. “If I may have the pleasure of your name, as I would address you by it rather than any title that may have been thrust upon you by my people.”
Oh, I liked this guy. He reminded me of a grandfather I never had, wise and kind. “It’s Davie,” I answered softly. “And this is Mallory.”
“I see. Davie and Mallory of the human world. I look forward to showing you all this room has to offer.”
“I’m glad to see you’re making friends,” Bron said, beaming at me. “But I’m sure that Baelfyre is waiting for us by now so we should hurry.”
“Baelfyre?” Velas asked. “You should be careful around him. He may be your cousin, but you know how tempting power can be in a position as precarious as yours.” Aha! At least I wasn’t the only one who thought the dark-haired dragon was sketchy.
But Bron frowned and his fair brow furrowed together. “Sometimes these old books make you too suspicious. We will see you again, Master Velas.”
“And I hope to see you as well, Prince Bron.”
With that, the white-haired man headed out and my decision to not confront him
about his cousin was reaffirmed. I didn’t know what Baelfyre had done to make Bron so loyal, but there definitely had to be some backstory there.
I gave Master Velas my own shaky bow and then ran off after Bron, Mallory right behind me. We exchanged a look but didn’t say anything, instead following along while he led us outside.
I was worried, but the moment I was outside, those concerns began to fade. The warm sunshine caressed my face, and the fresh air filled my lungs, reminding me that there were a few things still untouched by the dirt of the city. It would have been downright pleasant if it weren’t for a certain princeling waiting for us.
“There you all are!” Baelfyre exclaimed. “And here I thought you guys had ditched me in the politest way!”
I wished.
“I would never,” Bron said, jogging happily up to his cousin. “We just got waylaid by Master Velas.”
Baelfyre scoffed. “That old bag? He’s so full of hot air that I’m surprised he’s not always spitting fire. What was he saying now?”
“Nothing important,” Bron answered quickly, but I didn’t like that. Master Velas was nice to me, and offered his no doubt expensive paints out of the goodness of his heart. “Anyway, let’s show them the pool and maze, shall we?”
“Wait,” I said, forgetting about the internal dialogue I was having in defense of the older, dark-skinned man. “You have a pool!?”
The two of them laughed and gestured for me to catch up with them as they headed off. I followed them, excited to see all the perks this castle had in store.
Hey, if I was going to be chased down by dragons who wanted to enslave my kind, I might as well enjoy the few perks that came with that.
4
Reaching for the Past, Searching for the Future
“Now I need you to take a deep breath and concentrate. In through your nose, out through your mouth.”