Chapter Twenty-Four
It turns out that we weren't missed. Not at all. In fact, the others had been busy in the aftermath of the great big party, and so I was left pretty well alone to mind the shop with Mordon.
Finally, we had some peace.
Until we didn't.
Scratching noises went through the shop, echoing off the walls and vibrating in my ears. I stood up, book in hand, not sure what was making the sound yet strangely unafraid of whatever it was.
I followed the noises to the main door and watched as it warped into the tall, wide mouth of a cave. The shop did not feel worried and my shoes did not seem to want to leave the floor. I waited, enraptured and intrigued.
A cool breeze drifted from the opening. Sulfur and mineral water wove past my hair.
“Hello?” I called, stepping forward to peer into the darkness.
Scraping like that of iron on stone came from the cave, associated with new smells: wood smoke and ashes. A dragon heaved himself into the shop. The shelves and artifacts scrunched back into a heap against the walls to make room. Even so, his face came level with the wooden plane and it would have been no matter for the dragon to have put his neck through the ceiling.
The dragon dropped his head down to the floor. I craned my head to meet his cloudy eyes. Instinctively, I rested my hand on his cheek, noting the ridged scales, the flakes and dust under my palm.
“A fair day to you, Childhe,” he said. “I am known as Thessen, the first dragon to educate my flock, guardian of the Verdant Realm. And to whom do I have the pleasure of speaking?”
“My name is Feraline Swift.”
His throat scales scratched against wood as he sniffed me.“I know you by your deeds. It is an honor to make your introduction.”
Thessen. The name was familiar, and not just from bedtime tales.
“The honor is mine.” I said, still trying to remember where I knew the name from. “Shall I find Mordon for you?”
Thessen cocked his head. “I did come for the Drake Lord of Kragdomen, but I was not anticipating finding you, nor Aethel's book.
“I thought this was a copy,” I said, holding it away and looking at it. And who was this Aethel? A previous owner?
“Her essence is in the book, and she brought the dawn of an era of hope—and it appears, it shall be so again.”
I looked at the book and noticed it seemed to have fewer scratches in the leather.
Mordon's voice sounded a little distant. “Fera, did I hear someone enter?”
The dragon turned cloudy eyes to me, waiting.
“Yes, Thessen came to pay you a visit.”
There was a pause, then he repeated, “Thessen?”
“Indeed,” said Thessen, rumbling the floor boards and clattering glassware together with his speaking voice. “I have come.”
Something heavy fell to the floor near the back of the store. Mordon appeared from around a tower of newspapers, his hair tousled and clothes dusty. He bowed quickly. Thessen inclined his head.
“Drake Lord of Kragdomen.”
“Guardian of the Verdant Realm,” Mordon said, his voice tense. “Your visit honors my hovel, though you will not be offended if I ask why you have come?”
“I take no offense,” Thessen said, the accompanying rumble starting to shake the shop. “And methinks it a cozy hoard.”
I caught a terrarium on its route off the edge of a shelf and put it on the floor, frowning. Mordon said, “Your last visit was not so pleasant, Thessen. What brings you here?”
Before the dragon could open his mouth again, I interjected. “Thessen, can you talk softly? I would appreciate not having to reorganize all this.” I turned on Mordon and gave him a glare. “And you, quit the attitude.”
Mordon's jaw slackened.
“You do your brother, Leazar, justice,” Thessen said, affectionately rubbing his nose across my back. I stumbled a couple of steps before I regained my balance. Thessen continued, “Your ward is courageous and cunning, Lord of Kragdomen.”
Mordon's jaw dropped even more and his eyes bulged. He cleared his throat. “Thank you.”
“Childhe is most wise to accept his offer,” said Thessen, his voice just a hint of rumble. “And the Lord of Kragdomen would be just as wise to watch over her closely during these troubling times ahead.”
Mordon's brow furrowed and he said, “What has happened?”
“Trickery.” The shop rattled at the word, and Thessen corrected himself, speaking softer. “Misfortune has befallen the dragons and they blame the drakes. Likewise, the drakes blame the dragons. I have convinced the Youngers to meet in peace with Drake Elders, but the Drake Elders will not agree unless their home is secure.”
Mordon looked like he had heard this before, rubbing his forehead. “You've come to ask me to guard the colony so my father will attend the discussions.
“I have.”
Mordon frowned and paced anxiously. “I would, but my responsibilities here…”
I had a hunch he was speaking more about me than he was about the other three.“I'll come with you,” I said. “Lilly and the others can make do for a few days.”
Mordon stared at me, then shook his head.
“You must go, Drake Lord,” said Thessen. “Childhe can watch over the colony's hatchlings in relative safety.”
Mordon rubbed his forehead, then sighed and said, “I will consider it, but I must speak with the others before I commit to anything.”
“Very well,” said Thessen. “I shall take my leave. Drake Lord of Kragdomen, Childhe Feraline Swift, my blessings be about you both.”
Thessen gave me one last nuzzle, then turned with surprising grace he scraped his belly back through the cavernous opening. His tail disappeared in the darkness then the cave retreated, leaving behind the original door. When I looked at the rest of the shop, I found it had restored itself to its prior condition as well.
“Why did he call me Childhe?” I asked.
Mordon blinked, raised an eyebrow, then he said, “Ah, yes. It means he likes you.”
His face fell back into darkness and he stroked his nonexistent beard. I stared at his habit, wondering what was with the way he would stroke his chin, furrow his brow, and look at his empty hand.
“Your dragon form has a beard,” I snapped my fingers in triumph. I was surprised I hadn't put the two together before. He seemed to enjoy the beard, and I wondered if he could not grow one in his human form. I had never seen him with a 5 o'clock shadow.
One eyebrow went up and the other down when he twitched his mouth in an unspoken question. He looked down to his empty hand, and revelation crossed his face. “Ah, yes.”
“Mordon,” I said and waited until he looked up to me. “We're going as soon as we can talk to the others, so stop worrying.”
He nodded but wasn't comforted. I tried to think of something else to say.
The front door swung open, rammed the wall, and rattled back on its hinges. Leif ran to the door leading upstairs without looking at us and treated that door with the same courtesy as he had the first door. My eyes narrowed and I snared Lilly before she could repeat Leif's actions.
“What is going on?” I demanded, surprisingly irate by their rough treatment of the shop.
“Oh!” Lilly said. “We got called to mediate between the gryphons and sphinxes”
“Mediate?” I asked, shaking my head. “I thought you were judges.”
“Emergency protocol. All the mediators are called out, and we left instructions that if any party in Merlyn's has an issue for us to sort out, they are to report to the dungeons and remain there until our return.”
“All the mediators are called out?” Mordon asked.
She blinked and said, “Yes. Why? What's happened?”
I explained about Thessen's visit and she frowned.
“Think all this chaos is coincidence?” she asked Mordon.
“No,” said Barnes, who had slipped in without my noticing. “I'd bet someone pl
anned this while we were busy with the festivities, hoping by the time we sorcerers were back on our feet it would be too late. Which is why we all have to go do damage control before it really gets out of hand.”
“Is Fera going with us or Mordon?” Leif called from his position at the base of the stairs sorting out three packs.
“With me,” Mordon said.
“Good,” said Leif, passing the packs to Barnes and a frowning Lilly. He turned to look at me. “The carriage should be here about now. The sphinx Anhur swore to guard us, whether Mordon came with us or not.”
“Anhur is worth his word,” Mordon said. “He was the one who sought your help, was he not?”
Barnes twitched his mustache in annoyance and nodded. I had a feeling he did not much care for Anhur.
“You can go with Mordon, Constable,” Lilly said kindly.
“I won't abandon my ward,” Barnes said, though he did look tempted by her offer.
A loud rap came from a door upstairs.
“We will burn a letter when we are finished,” Leif said.
Lilly gave me a hug. They bolted upstairs at a second, this time demanding, banging on the door. I listened to their footsteps fall away, knowing that with each second, we were using time that we very much needed. The finding spell would have to wait—it was even possible that we would not need it now that the trail had picked up.
Mordon snapped his fingers. The lights dimmed, the ceiling became shaded. A series of grinds and clicks ran through the shop as it locked all the doors. I put my hand on a beam and reached out to the shop. It gave a long, slow groan that sounded reminiscent of a yawn.
“Bye, shop,” I said. “We'll be back soon.”
Mordon rushed up the stairs, into the commons room and through his stone dungeon-like door.
I hesitated, but he beckoned me inside.
Shadows filled the room until Mordon clapped his hands. Candles on a chandelier flickered to life. The lights played on curved shelves lining the circular walls. To my surprise they weren't filled entirely with books—puppets in various stages of production sat grinning at me, wooden heads held up by strings attached to the shelf above them.
Round gnomes clustered together, one cradling a tiny kettle. There was also a dragon I distinctly identified as Thessen. I didn't recognize the other gnomes, nor did I know any of the various elves, gryphons, unicorns, or random creatures. An aged wizard in a blue pointy hat with a long white beard sat close to a knight, seemingly in conversation while a beautiful witch in black leered at them.
“Is that supposed to be Merlyn, Arthur, and Morgana?” I asked.
Mordon checked where I was looking. “Yes?” he said, doubting his creative abilities.
I laughed and poked at Arthur's visor. “I think they're adorable.”
Arthur stood, his strings suddenly gone slack as he brandished his sword at me, declaring in a small voice, “Unhand me, Giant! Excalibur will smite you!”
I tried to not laugh as Mordon groaned. “You woke him up.”
Arthur turned on Mordon now, sticking his sword into the wood of the shelf and leaning on it as he said, “Ah, 'tis you, Benevolent Giant. What quest have we on this fine day? Where are your hatchlings?”
I cocked my head at Mordon.
He put his head in his hand.
“Arthur,” I said. “No quests yet. I was merely curious and woke you up.”
Arthur pulled his visor back and leaned to look at me better, a small smile on his wooden face. “What a peculiar way you say my name! But it matters not. You are pardoned, Fair Giant Lady!”
He dropped his visor back over his eyes and became still again, leaning on his strings.
Try as he might to avoid my gaze, I noted that Mordon's cheeks had turned to a lovely shade of scarlet. He coughed and motioned we should go up the spiral staircase, leading the way so all I had to see was his stiff back. Apparently, this was where he kept the good books. They spiraled up the stone side of the stairs, the other side a railing allowing an unparalleled view of Mordon's living area. Much as I was tempted to read through the titles, I had a better thought in mind.
“So…your hatchlings?”
Mordon coughed. “Not mine, exactly. I'm the colony's historian, and it's my duty to teach our stories to new colony members.”
“Ah,” I said, fondly remembering the puppet show. “Like back at Merlyn's Market?”
I belatedly realized that he was the one pupeteering the show at the market.
Feral Magic: An Urban Fantasy Romance-Thriller Page 38