Muse

by Kylie Quillinan

  "And my brooch," Owain added, fumbling in a pocket. He held out the small keepsake he had used to mark our progress through the tunnels. "You can have this too."

  The dragon barely glanced at the offered items before it snorted. "Surely you jest. Look at the priceless treasures surrounding you. I have here riches worth many kingdoms. No human king possesses treasure to rival the value of mine. And yet you offer me a plain dagger and a scratched brooch?"

  "We offer you everything we have," Diarmuid said. "Doesn't that make them priceless?"

  The dragon tipped its head to one side, considering, and nodded. "I suppose it does, in a way, and yet your offerings are poor. None the less, I accept your treasures, such as they are. You may place them on the ground."

  Diarmuid and Owain each set their item down. I had to remind myself to breathe.

  "You have not redeemed yourselves," the dragon said.

  "We have given you everything we have," Diarmuid said. "What else can we give?"

  The dragon considered him. "You tell me. What else have you to offer, little bard?"

  "Shall I tell you a tale?" An edge of desperation crept into Diarmuid's voice.

  The dragon laughed and then coughed. Small puffs of steam escaped its nostrils. "You have already confessed your failure as a bard. Now you expect me to accept a tale as payment for your intrusion?"

  "Then what do you want from us?"

  There was a long pause. The dragon looked around its cavern and, for a while, almost seemed to forget we were there. Hope flared briefly and my tail curled up just the tiniest bit. Perhaps, while the dragon was distracted, we could sneak out. But we still needed the key.

  "You will answer a riddle," the dragon said at length. "Four riddles, one each. For each correct answer, I will give leave for the one who answers to depart. How does that sound, little bard?"

  I trembled. How could I answer a riddle while trapped in this form? I wished, for Diarmuid's sake, that I could be brave and tell him to leave me behind, but I desperately hoped he would find another way.

  "Provided we can choose who answers each riddle and we are permitted to have one to answer for all, we accept," Diarmuid said.

  "No," the dragon said. "Four riddles, four answers, one each."

  I felt their eyes on me, Diarmuid, Owain and Rhiwallon. I tucked my tail between my legs and didn't look at any of them.

  "That's not fair," Owain said.

  "Fair?" The dragon pulled itself up to its full height. I hadn't realised until now how it had lowered itself down, presumably for ease of talking to us. Now it sat up on its haunches and stretched out its neck, glaring as it towered over us.

  "What is fair about your intrusion in my lair? What is fair about forcing me to endure your stench? Do you have any idea how long the odour of humans lingers? It will be months before I no longer smell you every minute I am at home."

  "And if we fail?" Diarmuid asked.

  "Why, then, I eat you."

  "We accept," Diarmuid said and my heart broke. He intended to leave me behind. "Ask your first riddle."

  The dragon snorted but appeared mollified. It thought for a few moments. "What whispers and roars, inhabits several forms, and can be a source of both life and death?"

  My heart pounded and I felt Owain holding his breath. I had no idea what answer the dragon expected. Surely Diarmuid was the only one of us who could answer such a thing. There was no hope for me anyway but if the riddles were all this hard, then we had already lost. I knew the moment Diarmuid had found the answer for his face lit up. My heart ached to see it and it was only in that moment that I realised how much I loved him.

  "Water," he said.

  "Water indeed, little human," the dragon said. "Very well, then, what is quieter than a whisper and yet louder than thunder?"

  Diarmuid spoke quickly. "This is Bramble's riddle."

  I held myself very still. I could hardly fathom his reason for this.

  The dragon considered him for a moment and then turned its gaze on me. "Aah, you mean the creature who wears not its own form?"

  I stared back at the dragon. How did it know?

  "Yes, I feel your surprise, little one. It blazes from your eyes."

  It was probably very old and knowledgeable. Perhaps it could even tell me of a way to escape this form. But I could not speak to the dragon, however much I might wish it, not unless it could read my mind.

  The dragon turned back to Diarmuid. "How will she answer my riddle if she cannot speak?"

  "She has already answered for you," Diarmuid said. "With her silence."

  Of course, the answer was silence. My heart lifted and my tail curled. Maybe, just maybe, we could pass this test. Maybe Diarmuid didn't intend to leave me behind to be eaten by the dragon.

  The dragon huffed and considered its next riddle. "What is both welcomed and despised, liked and feared, a source of sorrow and a source of joy?"

  "Death," Owain said immediately.

  The dragon acknowledged his answer with a dip of its head. "What can make one both run and freeze, cry and scream, be thankful to be alive and wish one was dead?"

  We waited. Rhiwallon was the only one who had not yet answered. To my surprise, she gave a faint smile.

  "Fear," she said.

  The dragon smiled, in as much as such a creature can. It nodded its huge head as it eyed us each in turn.

  "Well done, little humans. You surprise me."

  "Will you honour your bargain?" Diarmuid asked. "And allow us to leave?"

  "A dragon never goes back on its word," it said, somewhat haughtily.

  "And we can continue our search for the key?"

  It hissed and its eyes flashed darkly. "You are arrogant indeed to think I would allow you to take something from my home."

  "Then how will we unlock the door?" Diarmuid asked. "You have agreed to allow us to leave but we need the key."

  "How you achieve your goal is of no concern to me," the dragon said. "Go back the way you entered if you cannot exit by the other."

  "We can't," Diarmuid said. "That way will take us many days and we have neither food nor water."

  The dragon shrugged and its tail twitched, much as an irritated cat swishes its tail before it extends its claws and swipes. "That is your problem. Not mine."

  We looked at each other, Diarmuid, Owain, Rhiwallon and I. They all looked as empty of hope as I felt.

  "May as well keep going," Owain said.

  Diarmuid's shoulders slumped. "And then what? We sit and wait until someone else happens along?"

  "Hurry up, little humans," the dragon said. "Linger too long and I may change my mind."

  "Let's go," Diarmuid muttered. "We'll think of something."

  I felt disheartened, almost despondent. But perhaps the door wasn't locked after all. The reference to a key might have been Titania's way of distracting us. I sat up straighter in Owain's arms. There might be a way out after all.

  That hope lasted only until we reached the door and confirmed it was indeed locked. Had I been in my own form, I would have sat down and cried. Instead, I was struck by a powerful urge to lift my muzzle and howl. I swallowed my desperation and looked to Diarmuid. He traced the lock with one finger. It looked nothing like any lock I had ever seen.

  "This reminds me of something," he murmured and his eyes were distant even as his hand lingered on the door. "The leaf, Owain, the red one."

  Owain tucked me under one arm and fumbled in his pocket. He retrieved a scarlet red leaf and I remembered watching him pluck it from the floor after the fey had left. Might be useful, he had said. Now he stretched out his hand, leaf balanced on his palm, to Diarmuid.

  Diarmuid glanced at it and nodded. "That's our key." He motioned towards the door. "You do it, Owain. You were the one who thought to keep it."

  Owain stepped forward, his thick fingers holding the leaf with care. The lock was exactly the size and shape of the leaf and he gently slid it into position, placing the leaf flat against the d
oor's surface. It unlocked with a click.

  "Farewell, little humans," the dragon said from behind us. "Perhaps you might return another time."

  We stepped through the doorway, Diarmuid first, then Rhiwallon, then Owain carrying me. I pitied the dragon left behind, lonely and surrounded by mounds of treasure.

  41

  Brigit

  I WANTED TO howl when I realised that on the other side of the door was yet another green-lit tunnel. We had rescued Rhiwallon, crossed the fiery bridge, answered the dragon's riddles, and found the key. What more would be asked of us? I rested my head on Owain's shoulder with a heavy sigh.

  We crowded into a tunnel, which was far narrower than the others we had traversed and barely ten paces long before it ended in another door. The roof was high but the width was exactly the size necessary for Owain to pass through and no more. He had just stepped through the doorway, when Diarmuid spoke.

  "Owain, wait," he said. "Keep the door open."

  By the time Owain managed to turn around in the too-small space, the door had closed with a soft thud. "Too late," he said.

  "See if you can open it again." Diarmuid's voice sounded strange, as if he was barely controlling panic.

  Clutched in Owain's arms, I could see that the door was blank and smooth.

  "No handle," Owain said.

  "What's the problem?" Rhiwallon asked.

  "Push it," Diarmuid said. "Maybe it didn't close properly."

  Owain pressed his palm to the door but even I could see that it had closed securely and the make of its frame was such that it could only be opened from the other side.

  "Won't budge," Owain said.

  We waited.

  "There's no way to open the door at this end," Diarmuid said, at last.

  "We're trapped?" Rhiwallon asked.

  "There must be a hidden lever or button," Diarmuid said, although he didn't sound like he believed his own words.

  Owain managed to deposit me onto the ground, then he began running his hands over the earthen wall. I pressed my nose to the base of the wall, searching for anything that looked different. I searched the floor also but found nothing unusual in the hard-packed earth.

  "We must be missing something," Diarmuid said.

  "Could it be up higher?" Rhiwallon asked.

  We looked up. The roof of this tunnel did seem much higher than the others.

  "But what would be the point in putting it out of our reach?" she asked.

  "Maybe it's another test," Diarmuid said.

  We craned our necks, eyes straining with the effort of trying to see something that was intended to be invisible. I worked my way methodically along the wall, starting from the edge near the dragon's door. Everyone kept getting in my way and obscuring my view, and I let out a loud yelp when Rhiwallon stood on my paw. She muttered an apology.

  Owain picked me up and I wriggled around in his arms to gain a higher purchase. When he realised what I was doing, he held me up over his head. My tail quivered at being up so high but his hands gripped my ribs firmly so I tried to ignore my unease and focus on my task.

  It was easier to scan the walls now that I had an uninterrupted view, but even so, I could see nothing unusual. I let out a frustrated growl.

  "Keep trying, Bramble," Owain said. He squeezed past Rhiwallon, which was only possible if they both turned sideways, to let me inspect the far end of the wall.

  "This is hopeless." Rhiwallon sank down to sit cross-legged on the floor. "Titania wants us to rot in here."

  "Can't give up now," Owain said.

  "Well, what are we supposed to do? We've checked every inch of that blasted wall. There's nothing there. We're trapped in here until she decides to let us out. And what if she doesn't?"

  My stomach rumbled loudly, a reminder that it had been many hours since we had eaten. And it had been so long since we ran out of water that I wasn't even thirsty anymore. We were all exhausted and covered in muck from the dead beast. We couldn't go on like this for much longer.

  My eyes were sore from straining so hard but I kept searching. There had to be a way out of here. The fey wouldn't lead us here for no reason. I checked the last section of wall, right above the door that would lead us somewhere else, but there was nothing. I sighed and Owain started to bring me down. But just as he moved, I spotted something. It was the shallowest of depressions, just a slight dip in the otherwise smooth wall, and I only saw it because I was on exactly the right angle.

  I gave a wuff and he froze.

  "Do you see something?" he asked.

  I barked and he held me back up high again.

  Whatever I was looking at was almost out of my sight and certainly out of reach. Even if Owain were to lift Diarmuid, he wouldn't be able to reach it. But how could we check whether this was the key to opening the door if we couldn't reach it?

  "I can't see anything," Diarmuid admitted.

  "Me either," Owain said. He continued to hold me up over his head and I kept my gaze fixed on the indentation, fearful of not being able to find it again if I even so much as blinked.

  "I think I see something," Rhiwallon said. "It might be nothing though and it's too high up."

  "I could lift you," Owain said.

  "I still wouldn't be able to reach it."

  I was close to despair. We were hungry and thirsty and tired, and now it seemed the final key we needed was positioned deliberately far out of our reach.

  "Could you push it with an arrow?" Diarmuid asked.

  Rhiwallon shook her head. "No, it's easily three times my height. I couldn't even get close. Unless…" She tipped her head to the side, still considering the indentation.

  Owain's fingers were beginning to dig into my ribs uncomfortably. I wiggled and he lowered me, clutching me to his chest once more. Now that Rhiwallon had also seen the indentation, I was less afraid of not being able to find it again. She stared up at it, one hand on the quiver at her hip. I understood where her thoughts were heading and my heart thudded faster. It could work. Slowly, Rhiwallon drew an arrow from her quiver. With the other hand, she reached for her bow.

  "That's impossible," Diarmuid said.

  Rhiwallon shrugged. "I'll just keep shooting until I hit it. I need some room though. And watch for the arrows as they fall. An injury is the last thing any of us needs now."

  Owain and Diarmuid moved to the other end of the tunnel. Rhiwallon nocked the arrow and drew it back, lifting the bow to aim.

  Diarmuid was right: it was an impossible shot. But I had seen Rhiwallon take down a running hare with a single arrow that pierced right through the eye. As she took aim, I held my breath. She released the arrow and it sprang up, almost too fast for my eyes to follow. The arrow knocked the wall and vanished.

  "What happened?" Owain asked.

  "Where did it go?" Diarmuid said.

  Rhiwallon's face was pale. "It disappeared as soon as it hit the wall."

  A long moment of silence followed her words. I was so very tired. After all we had been through, it seemed unfair that we should encounter such a charm now.

  "How many arrows do you have?" Diarmuid asked, at last.

  "I carry five," she said.

  "Four left," Owain said.

  Rhiwallon nodded. "Four left." She took another arrow from her quiver. "Might as well get on with it."

  I couldn't quite see the indentation from my perch in Owain's arms but the first arrow had been close. Under other circumstances, I had no doubt that Rhiwallon would have hit her target. But the tunnel was dimly lit and she was shooting on an extremely steep angle to a tiny target far above her head. Close would not be good enough.

  Rhiwallon nocked the arrow and aimed. Once again it hit very near to the indentation and silently disappeared. She immediately took out a third arrow, set it in place, and fired, all in the time it took me to draw a single breath. Again, the arrow disappeared. Rhiwallon hissed.

  "You can do it," Owain said.

  Rhiwallon turned and shot him a glare.
Diarmuid opened his mouth and she glared so hard at him that he simply closed it again. The fourth arrow missed also. Her face was red now, although I didn't know whether it was with frustration or anger.

  With a deep breath, she set the final arrow in place. The world seemed to slow around me as I watched her exhale gently, her gaze fixed on her target. She raised the bow and the arrow and they were like extensions of her arms. I followed the arrow's trajectory. I couldn't tell whether it had hit its target. If it hadn't, it was close. Very close. I held my breath and prayed.

  Slowly, ever so slowly, the door in front of us rumbled open and light flooded the small tunnel. Diarmuid and Owain cheered and even Rhiwallon looked pleased. I barked in appreciation, and then we hurried through the door before it could close again. We stepped out into sunshine scented with spring.

  42

  Diarmuid

  THE SUN HOVERED low over the horizon, its light soft. Dawn perhaps? Snow still remained on the ground although patches of grass peeked through in some areas. How much time had passed in the outside world? I breathed in deeply, rejoicing in the feel of fresh, cool air filling my lungs.

  For a while, we just stood there, letting the sunlight soak into our skin. Rhiwallon stood with her hands clasped over her stomach. The empty quiver hung from the belt around her waist. Owain's face was tight and his shoulders hunched. Bramble's tail and ears drooped. My fingers itched to stroke her hair but I no longer felt I had any right to touch her. Not until we figured out what manner of creature she was.

  Unless I was much mistaken, we emerged from the mound in the same place we had entered it. The paths of the fey could appear to lead in one direction when in reality going another. If we went back inside, we might not find the original path we took but something entirely different. I had no desire to find out.

  "Why so morose?" I asked. "We did it. We rescued Rhiwallon, made our way through the tunnels, answered the dragon's riddles, and found a way out. You should be pleased."

  "We barely got out," Rhiwallon said. "The dragon would have gladly eaten us."