House of Blood and Bone

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House of Blood and Bone Page 8

by Kimberley J. Ward


  “This is an awful lot of stuff for us to carry,” Nessa mused, counting the bags.

  Hunter grinned. “Good thing we’re not carrying all of it, then, isn't it.”

  “Huh?”

  They strap them onto my back, Aoife explained, casting out her words for all of them to hear, not just Nessa, and I carry them.

  “It’s been bloody useful having a dragon around,” Hunter said, finally winning the battle against the tent, trying up the valise’s straps.

  Aoife snorted. These poor, feeble males can barely carry anything, and if they do, it just slows them down. Before I was big enough to carry all of the kit, progress was painfully slow.

  “It wasn’t that slow,” Hunter argued.

  It was slow enough, and you didn’t even have tents until recently. Without me, you’d be slow and tentless.

  “We didn’t need tents until last month, and I’ve said on numerous occasions: if we simply got some horses—”

  “No horses!” Orm interjected. “You are not to be trusted with horses.”

  “Why do you say that?”

  “Because you lost the last horse that was in your care.”

  “I didn’t lose Betty. She was stolen.”

  “Oh, stolen? That’s so much better.”

  “Yes, it is,” Hunter fumed, standing with his hands on his hips. “Having the horse stolen was out of my control. There was nothing I could have done.”

  “You could have tried to retrieve it.”

  “I was outnumbered. Tell him, Nessa.” Hunter turned to her. “Tell him how we were outnumbered by the bandits.”

  Nessa blinked. “Umm, I don’t really—”

  “Remember,” Hunter finished glumly. “What a bugger. I fought those bandits so valiantly too.”

  Nessa smirked. “Of course you did.”

  “Yes, I did. It made you swoon.”

  “Swoon,” Nessa laughed. “I don’t think so.”

  “How would you know?” Hunter quirked a brow. “You have to take my word for it.”

  “I don’t think I’m the swooning kind of girl.”

  “Perhaps not,” Hunter admitted. “But you were very impressed.”

  “Was I, now?”

  “Indeed, for I was very impressive.”

  Chuckling, Nessa shook her head. “As you’ve just said, I’ll have to take your word for it. Unless, of course, Orm or Aoife have something to add to your tale?”

  Alas, Aoife said, deeply amused, that happened before I hatched.

  “However, if he’d fought half as valiantly as he said he did,” Orm mused, crossing over to the pile of bags, carrying the packed tent, “then he would have been able to retrieve the horse. So if I were you, Nessie, I’d take his story with a pinch of salt.”

  Oh, Hunter, you are a silly human, Aoife said. And you do entertain me so well.

  Glaring at them with false hurt, Hunter grumbled, “At least the oversized lizard appreciates me.”

  Careful, Aoife murmured, eyes twinkling, or this oversized lizard will tell Nessa all the embarrassing things you’ve done over the last few months, giving her ample opportunity to tease you whenever she feels like it.

  Hunter’s response to the threat was a roll of his eyes. “Come on, bullies. If we want to cover any decent amount of distance today, then we should head off as soon as we can.”

  “Always so eager to move on,” Orm sighed. “Live in the here and now, Hunter, my boy. Stop wishing your life away.”

  “I’m not wishing my life away,” Hunter said, unstirred by Orm’s words of wisdom. “I would just like to make it to the nearest village by noon. Then we can get Nessa some clothing and buy more food.”

  Orm shook his head. “Chaos said we should forget about the villages and spend a night or two in a town. That way, Nessa can get a proper night’s sleep in an actual bed, and we’ll have a better chance of getting proper supplies and whatnot.”

  “And have a greater chance of someone recognising and reporting us to the authorities,” Hunter added.

  “A bed does sound rather nice,” Nessa said with a touch of wistfulness. A nice spongy mattress and a poofy pillow…

  “Come on, Hunter,” Orm urged as he organised the pile of bags, checking that they were fastened and accounted for. “A town is bigger and has more options than a village, more people coming and going. No one would remember a small group of travellers. We’d fit right in with the other visitors. There’s no harm in it. Not really.”

  “The nearest town is Arncraft. We won’t reach it till almost nightfall. If we’re lucky”

  “And that’s a problem how?”

  Hunter shrugged. “It will be a long day of marching, that’s all. Nessa might not be up to it.” He smiled at her apologetically.

  “I don’t mind the trek,” Nessa said. “If I get tired, I’ll just make one of you give me a piggyback.”

  “There,” Orm grinned and clapped Hunter on the back, “we have decided. We’re going to Arncraft. I reckon we’ll get there in time for me to win a few card games and get some money to fund a visit to the markets before the day’s end.”

  “Wow,” Nessa murmured. “Sounds like you have everything planned out.”

  Orm nodded, his whiskey-coloured eyes twinkling at the prospect of gambling.

  “Come on,” Hunter sighed, “let’s load all of this onto Aoife. Then we’ll be ready to head off, provided Chaos returns soon.”

  “Where is Chaos?” Nessa asked.

  “He’s scouting ahead,” Orm said. “Making sure there’s nothing bad hiding around a corner, waiting to jump out at us.”

  “Chaos is trying to discover how Shadow is hiding from his sight, and where Shadow is,” Hunter explained. “He’s also listening for any word of the other Dragon Riders being summoned back to the capital. He likes to go off by himself. Says that he needs peace and quiet in order to concentrate.”

  “Apparently, Hunter and I are too annoying for him to be anywhere near,” Orm added, picking up a couple of bags and moving them over to Aoife.

  “Is that so?” Nessa chuckled, grabbing an armload of light supplies and following after him.

  “Oh yes,” Hunter agreed. “We are very annoying when we want to be.”

  “And even when they’re not trying,” a voice intoned from behind them, “they are still incredibly annoying.”

  Nessa turned and spied Chaos making his way out of the trees, approaching them in a leisurely manner, the silvered caps of his boots glinting with each of his steps. Strapped over a leather-clad shoulder was a duffel bag. Nessa recognised it and eyed it with suspicion, trying to spot the shape of his unsettling book, but it was concealed, tucked away in the middle of the clothing.

  Chaos’ gaze shifted from Hunter and Orm, and came to rest on her. Hastily, Nessa dragged her eyes away from his bag and said, “By your relaxed demeanour, I assume we’re safe from any beasties that may be lurking about?”

  “Our path is clear,” Chaos said. “For the time being, at least. I still cannot find Shadow, but I do know that King Kaenar has sent word for his return, and that it has been answered. I presume Shadow is now making his way back to the capital.”

  “When did he get his summons?” Hunter asked.

  “Within the last hour.”

  “Has the king called back any of the others?”

  “Not yet, but I’m sure he will soon.”

  Have you heard anything about why he’s calling them back? Aoife enquired.

  “I’ve heard a few whispers on the wind,” Chaos answered. “They are little more than suggestions and ideas. Guesses, really.”

  “A stab in the dark,” Hunter supplied helpfully.

  And which whisper is the loudest?

  “There are rumours of discontent amongst a small number of the populous. What happened at The Hidden City sits ill with them, particularly with those who had links with the black trade or had friends and family who lived there.”

  “This can’t be good.” Hunter look
ed worried, his eyes troubled. “The last time there were rumours of this nature, an entire town was destroyed.”

  “Don’t fret, Hunter,” Orm said. “I’m sure that won’t happen again. Not in your lifetime, at least.”

  Hunter was silent as he grabbed a couple of bags and loaded them onto Aoife’s back. She crouched down, making it easier for him to reach and position them comfortably between the spikes that ran down her spine. Using a length of sturdy rope, he tried them into place, and then with his foot braced against her foreleg, he clambered up Aoife’s side. Orm passed the other bags to Hunter, and they too were tied securely in place.

  Nessa eyed the bags and the giant spider web of crisscrossed rope. Doesn’t all of that make it difficult to fly?

  No, my little Rider. When Hunter ties them just right, I barely notice them. And anyway, I like to count the extra weight as practice for when we’ll fly together.

  Fly together? Nessa murmured, recalling the memories Aoife had shared with her, the ones where Aoife had been soaring a thousand feet above the ground, higher than any bird would dare to go. Nessa felt a little nauseous. When will we be flying together?

  Not for a little while yet, Aoife chuckled, sensing Nessa’s trepidation and finding it amusing. I still have a bit of growing to do before it’s safe.

  Safe? Why is that? You can carry all those bags? Nessa wondered. I’m pretty sure that they weigh a lot more than I do.

  Indeed they do, but it’s not just about weight, Aoife explained. It’s to do with the space between my spikes. While I could easily bear your weight, it would be far too dangerous because if we were to hit an up or downdraft, or if I dived or landed too roughly, you might accidentally impale yourself. As I grow, the space between my spikes will widen, and you’ll be able to sit between them without the risk of being skewered.

  I would rather not be impaled, Nessa mused.

  As would I, my little Rider.

  “Right,” Hunter said, giving the rope one last tug, knocking Nessa and Aoife from their silent conversation, “how does that feel?”

  Perfect, Aoife said, rolling her shoulders. Is that everything?

  “Yep, that’s all of it.” Hunter hopped down from her shoulder. “You’re all set.”

  Nessa looked around and realised that as she and Aoife had been talking, Hunter and Orm had finished loading the bags. Well, all except for one. Chaos still carried his.

  “Don’t you want Aoife to take that?” Nessa asked him. “It doesn't look very comfortable to carry.”

  “I prefer to carry it myself,” Chaos said. “I was raised in a time when dragons were considered to be more than beasts of burden. The very least I can do is carry my own clothing.”

  Ignore him, Aoife murmured in Nessa’s mind. He gets a little peculiar when it comes to his personal belongings and the olden ways from when he was young. It’s best just to leave him be.

  If you say so. Nessa had the impression that Chaos just didn't want anyone to stumble across his weird book. She kept her suspicions to herself, though. “So, are we off to Arncraft now, then?” she asked in way of a distraction, wanting to steer her mind away from Chaos and his secrets.

  “Once you’ve put on your lovely second-hand boots and we’ve put out the fire,” Hunter said, ambling over to the fire in question. With a few deft kicks, he covered the flames with earth, smothering them. He grinned at her from over his shoulder. “Now we’re just waiting for you to put on your boots.”

  Nessa looked at her bare feet and wiggled her toes. “I think I need some socks.”

  “Already thought of that.” Hunter nodded to the boots, which were resting beside one of the log stools. “I’ve kindly lent you some of mine.”

  “Clean ones, I hope.” Nessa crossed over to the boots and sat down on the stool. The socks, she saw, were shoved into the boots. She put them on without inspecting them, deciding that an “ignorance is bliss” view was perhaps best.

  “Of course, they’re clean.” Hunter smirked. “Although I can’t say the same for the boots. I wouldn’t sniff them if I were you.”

  Nessa, reaching for one, paused. “You sound like you know not to do that from experience.”

  Hunter shrugged. “Curiosity killed the cat.”

  Nessa grimaced as she slipped her feet into the boots, careful not to breathe in too deeply just in case she caught a whiff, and did up the laces, which were nearing the end of their lifespan, frayed and stretched.

  “Is it too much to ask for a pair of new boots when we reach Arncraft?” Nessa asked, standing. The boots were a little on the large side, and even though Hunter’s chunky socks helped to stop her feet from sliding around too much, she couldn’t help shake the feeling that the boots were making her feet dirty.

  “Clothing and new shoes? Gosh, you are a demanding girl,” Hunter remarked. “What do you say, Orm, oh mighty gambler? Are new shoes and clothes on the cards this day?”

  Orm’s eyes were bright and eager. “Oh yes, I reckon so.”

  Hunter clapped his hands together. “There you have it. Looks like you’ll be doing rather well this afternoon.”

  “Not if the lot of you keep dithering around,” Chaos growled. “Get a move on. You’re wasting time.”

  “Dithering?” Orm rolled the word around in his mouth. “I do like that word. Dithering.”

  Chaos turned and walked away, heading into the trees with a muttered, “Idiot.”

  Nessa watched him go for a second, expecting him to stop and wait for them. To her surprise, he didn’t, and his long-legged strides soon carried him out of sight.

  “Well,” Hunter sighed, “it seems that Chaos is eager to get to Arncraft.”

  “Indeedy,” Nessa murmured.

  “Come on, you two,” Orm called, heading after Chaos. “Stop dithering around.”

  Nessa laid a hand on Aoife’s side, her fingers idly tapping against scales. I guess you won’t be able to walk with us, will you?

  No, my little Rider, Aoife told her, voice tinged with a small amount of regret. The forest is too dense, and I must fly high in the clouds to avoid anyone seeing me.

  It’s a shame. I like having you nearby.

  I’ll never venture too far away, Aoife said. And we can view this as an opportunity to practice communicating with each other over larger distances.

  I do need to learn more about this bond we have and what it really means.

  Of course you do. We can talk about it later if you want?

  I look forward to it.

  Aoife snorted softly and brought her snout down, brushing the top of Nessa’s head gently in a dragon’s version of a goodbye kiss. I’ll see you later, my little Rider. Aoife looked to Hunter and Orm. I’ll be close until you leave the forest. Then, I will have to stay near the mountains; otherwise, I’ll risk being seen.

  “Sounds fine,” Hunter said. “We’ll meet up with you a couple of miles outside Arncraft and unload you, then rejoin you in the morning once we’ve got everything we need.”

  Sounds like a plan.

  Chapter 10

  Sunlight rained down, threading its way through the tree branches, bringing out the browns and oranges of the fallen leaves that covered the ground in a whispering carpet. Lichen and soft moss covered the lower halves of the trees’ trunks, and spread amongst their knobbly roots, growing in little clusters, were small mushrooms. They were unusually coloured, their caps a riot of vivid reds and purples, blues and greens. Many of them featured a scattering of large, rounded spots of a different colour to that of their caps, often clashing with them. They were fun, quirky and also, apparently, deadly poisonous.

  Nessa wanted to take some with her. Because what girl doesn't desire some wildly colourful and poisonous mushrooms upon her person? Orm was all for it, even suggesting that they could find a way of preserving them, turning them into little mementoes. The idea of terrarium pendants and charms was thrown around. Orm seemed inclined to create a jewellery empire that specialised in poisonous fungi.
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br />   “We’ll put the ‘fun’ in fungi,” Orm said meditatively.

  Nessa laughed. “We have to work that into our shop slogan.”

  “Agreed.” Orm linked arms with Nessa. “Now, what do you think our marketing strategy should be?”

  “You’re forgetting a couple of important factors with this idea of yours,” Hunter said mildly, walking a couple of steps behind them.

  Orm cocked a brow. “Oh?”

  “First of, it seems a wee bit dangerous to sell poisonous mushrooms as pieces of jewellery.”

  “Jewellery with a touch of danger.” Orm shrugged. “People love having a bit of danger in their lives.”

  “Anyway,” Nessa added, “they’ll be encased in, like, mini glass bottles or something.”

  “Excellent,” Hunter said dryly. “Second of all, you can’t pick them now because you have nothing to put them in.”

  “That is a bit of a problem at this precise moment in time,” Orm admitted.

  “And if you touch them with bare skin, you’ll die within a matter of minutes. That kind of makes them rather hard to pick.”

  “Gloves,” Orm sighed. “Gloves will help with that little problem.”

  “Will gloves help with the little problem that we are wanted fugitives? I’d imagine it’s rather hard to set up a business with a bounty on you.”

  “You and Nessa are wanted fugitives,” Orm corrected him. “And technically, you’re secret fugitives. Only Margan has issued warrants for the two of you, and he’s going to keep the search rather quiet, lest the king finds out about his shenanigans.”

  “Secret fugitives?” Nessa snorted. “That’s a bit of an oxymoron, isn’t it?”

  Orm frowned, and looked down at her. The top of Nessa’s head barely came up to his shoulder. “Or is it ironic?”

  “I have no idea.” Nessa peered behind her, wondering if Hunter would know, but he was just looking at them blankly, shaking his head slowly in minor despair.

  “How did we even end up in Ironguard?” Nessa asked, curious as to what kind of mischief she and Hunter had got up to in order to be imprisoned.

 

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