by Richard Due
“Here,” she said, hanging a lantern over one of Tavin’s outstretched legs. “He’s in the main house. Make sure you keep to the walkway.”
Dubb made a face—part smile, part grimace—and thanked her.
The path wound alongside several structures that Lily had mistaken for giant trees or rock ledges. Shortly, they reached a stone house with a thatched roof. On top, smoke curled out of an opening that didn’t look like any chimney Lily had ever seen.
They came to an open door. Dubb turned sideways and allowed the lantern hanging on Tavin’s foot to lead the way into a long mudroom, where hooks and pegs lined the walls.
“You may wish to leave your cloak and armament here,” said Dubb. “Don’t worry. No one will take them.”
Lily set down the heavy pack on a low bench that ran along one side of the room. Dubb loosened the chin strap of his helmet and bent down his head so Lily could take it off. “Just put it on one of the pegs.”
“What about your sword?” asked Lily, a little too quickly.
“The sword, and my armor, stay with me tonight.”
Lily hung her own helmet and cloak on pegs. Unstrapping her greaves and vambraces, she placed them on the floor underneath her cloak before turning back to Dubb, who strained under Tavin’s weight.
“Bring that pack along, won’t you?” He nodded to an open door at the opposite side of the mudroom. “Follow me.”
Dubb, Tavin, and Lily emerged into a spacious room with a high ceiling and were met by an old man and a young woman. Small lamps hung below the beams, giving off a soft light. The old man held up a hand to shield his eyes from the bright light of the lantern. He had a terrible crook in his back and stood no taller than Lily. His face was covered in stubble, and his eyebrows protruded like ledges beyond the dark sockets of his eyes. He wore a fine vest over a coarsely woven wool robe. And his smile, though pained, was happy and affectionate.
“Come in,” croaked the man, “come in. Is that you, Dubb?”
“What?” said Dubb, chuckling, “Couldn’t you tell?”
The young woman, wearing a finely woven gown, lifted the lantern off Tavin’s leg, doused its flame, and set it by the doorway. Lily guessed she was much younger than Dubb, easily in her twenties.
“Oh, well.” The old man made a face. “All they told me was that the cursed one was coming, he and four others.”
“Four others?” said Dubb impishly. “But we are only two. Are you expecting more tonight?”
Keegan’s gaze grew serious. His eyes settled first on Dubb, then Lily, as though searching for some hidden clue that he’d rather not miss out on.
“Keegan,” said Dubb, “allow me to introduce you to Lily Winter.” He spoke her name slowly and deliberately.
Keegan smiled. “Miss Winter, yes, of course.”
“Lily,” continued Dubb, “this is Keegan Hoarfrost.”
Lily didn’t know if she should curtsy, bow, or offer her hand. In the end, she lowered her head and simply said, “Hello.”
“And this,” continued Dubb, “is Nima, one of Keegan’s many granddaughters, each as beautiful as the next.” Nima blushed, and offered her hand to Lily.
In the dim light, Lily thought Nima rather plain until she smiled. It was a small, pursed-lip smile, like she knew something that others didn’t. Nima gave Lily a long appraising look that made her squirm, but it wasn’t nearly as nerve-wracking as when, in the Great Hall of the Rinn, Greydor had borne down on her with his potent emerald eyes.
Keegan let go of Nima’s arm and hobbled forward on his cane. He twisted his head to get a better look at Dubb. “You were at the top of my list as one of the others.” Then the old man swiveled his gray head toward Lily. They were standing nose to nose. She could see his eyes, even in this dim light, tiny and sparkling below his frosted eyebrows. “You, however, my dear,” he said softly, “most certainly were not.”
Dubb and Lily exchanged puzzled glances, although each was wondering about something different.
Keegan hobbled back to Nima’s proffered arm. “Come,” he said briskly. They passed through the large room and turned down a short hallway, moving slowly.
“I imagine Tavin must be getting heavy by now,” said Keegan.
“Getting heavy?” laughed Dubb, adjusting Tavin’s weight on his shoulders as he walked. “Tell me, Keegan. Was that Pippa who took our horse?”
“Yes. Our resident personification of indignation and outrage,” chuckled Keegan.
“She’s grown so,” said Dubb half under his breath.
“Yes. And she grows louder as she grows taller. Of course, if you visited more often . . .” murmured Keegan.
Nima opened a door to a small cool room with a lone window. With Nima’s help, Dubb laid Tavin on the bed, which creaked under his fully armored weight. Nima gasped when she got a better look at him.
“For the love of moonlight! Must you bind him so tightly?” she exclaimed.
“Yes,” Lily and Dubb answered together.
Nima slid open a drawer and withdrew a small pair of scissors, then set upon the ropes binding Tavin’s arms.
“Are you sure you want to do that?” asked Dubb.
Nima shot Dubb a fierce look.
“Leave him to me,” she said. Then, to her grandfather, “Bring me a tea of quarnel root and simpkin leaves. And not too heavy on the simpkin leaves, mind you. We don’t want to make him daft.”
“Yes, dear,” answered Keegan politely. “Right away.”
Keegan motioned to Dubb and Lily, leading them back to the big room that served as kitchen and dining room. The tables and cabinets against the walls were filled with bottles and jars. Keegan picked up a pitcher and filled it at one of several wooden sinks. Then he filled a large black kettle, and Dubb hoisted it onto a rack above banked, glowing embers. An open flue piped the smoke up through the roof.
Keegan opened one of the taller cabinets and began poking around, pulling out jars filled with roots and small boxes stuffed with bits of twig, moss, and leaves.
“We won’t be staying long,” said Dubb.
“I’m not surprised,” said Keegan, now bent over a wooden drawer.
“I’ve brought you something.”
“Most people do,” murmured Keegan, and, still stooped, he turned his face to them. “So what do you have? An injured cat? A bird with a broken wing?”
“No. I have something for you to take to Raewyn—two somethings, actually.” Dubb motioned to the pack that Lily had placed on the table. “Lily, open that up and get one out, will you?” he asked.
Lily walked over to the pack, loosened a knotted string and peeled back a flap of oilcloth. Inside she saw what looked like two large stones the size of volleyballs. Using both hands, she pulled one out. It was heavy.
Keegan’s eyes grew large, and he cocked his head back in surprise. He stood up straighter, and the small spoon he was holding slipped onto the table with a clatter.
“Oh my!” he said. “Does Marred know?”
“Yes, he’s the one who found them.”
“Who else knows?” said Keegan, speaking quickly.
“Andros, you, and now Lily.”
Lily pressed the stone against her cheek and peered around it with a big grin on her face.
“Well, your secret’s safe with me,” she said reassuringly. “I mean, it’s a rock, right?”
“That’s no rock you have there, Lily,” said Keegan.
Lily looked at the stone. As she approached the table, light illuminated a dull pattern that Lily assumed had been painted on by someone, possibly Marred.
“Are you kidding? By the weight of it, it’s either a stone, or the largest . . . egg—” The word stuck in her throat. Her smile froze in place, her brows knitting together. “Oh, my God! Is this a dragon’s egg?”
she said, finishing in a rush.
“Draca Fyrblume, by the looks of those markings. A more magnificent and cunning beast you’d be hard pressed to find,” said Keegan, nodding thoughtfully.
As though on cue, or perhaps in answer to its name, Lily felt and heard the same tapping she’d heard on the horse. Only this time, there was no mistaking where the noise was coming from. Lily shifted her grip and held the egg as far away from her as she dared.
“Take it!” she ordered, thrusting the egg at Dubb. “Take it—take it—take it—take it!” But Dubb just smiled and made halfhearted shooing motions, as though she were playing some kind of game.
“You said Tavin destroyed them all! You lied!”
Dubb’s eyebrows rose.
Suddenly, the egg in her hands shifted. With a sharp intake of breath, she tightened her grip. She couldn’t stop imagining what might happen to her fingers if the egg suddenly cracked open and the hungry hatchling popped out. Taking small but rapid steps, Lily navigated back to the pack, replaced the egg, and leapt backward.
“Don’t worry, my dear,” said Keegan, “you couldn’t crack that egg with a pickax.”
Lily wasn’t convinced. “Tavin didn’t have any pickax!”
“No,” said Dubb darkly. “He had something far more fierce. For all its faults, that cursed sword he carries can take a murderous bite . . . when it has a mind to.”
“Marred must be happy; he’s been promising to bring home one of those since before he married my Raewyn. How did you come by them?”
“We destroyed the dragon that’s been preying on the western fields, near Fallowden’s old farm.”
“Did you now,” said Keegan, placing a hand over his heart.
“Then Tavin escaped.” Dubb glanced toward Lily, but she was ready and returned his gaze with admirable calm. “Marred tracked him to the clutch. The ground there showed the signs of a small battle. One of the young had hatched early and was protecting the clutch.”
“They often do,” interrupted Keegan, who was now working over some dried roots with a mortar and pestle.
“Yes. Well, Tavin took a bad bite or a claw to the leg. He bound it himself. I haven’t gotten a good look to see just how bad it is, but it hadn’t stopped bleeding by the time we found him. I’m not so worried about that, though; Tavin heals fast.” Dubb’s gaze wandered over to the hallway where they had taken Tavin. “I should tell Nima that, so she doesn’t tax herself on the leg. It’s his mind that needs help.”
“Don’t fret on that account. Tavin’s in good hands. If I know my Nima, and I do, she won’t rest this night. And she won’t waste her energies on a leg that will heal on its own.”
“Still, I may be of help. He’s not himself, Keegan. I’ve never seen him this bad. I should warn her.”
“I wouldn’t think that wise.” He gave Dubb a shrewd look. “You’re exhausted. When did you last sleep?”
Dubb sighed and sagged a bit.
“Truth is, I’m afraid if I sit down, I may never get back up.”
Keegan placed a delicately patterned china teapot on a serving tray and removed its tiny lid. He took a step toward the large black kettle on the fire, but Dubb swooped in and lifted it easily, filling the teapot before returning the big kettle to the fire. Keegan replaced the lid, added a matching tea cup, and motioned for Lily to pick it up. “Do be a dear and take this to Nima,” he said, smiling.
Lily carried the serving tray very slowly through the main room. Glancing back, she noticed Keegan steering Dubb toward the big couch.
“I can’t. I have two messages I must send,” she heard Dubb say.
“Tell me what they are. I’ll take care of them.”
The door to the small room down the hall was ajar now. Greenish light from inside the room spilled across its threshold. If Lily tilted her head just so, she could see into the room. Nima was standing opposite the bed, facing her. She had formed a triangular healer’s peerin, both palms out, and was examining Tavin’s face through it. As with Arric, Dara, and Tavin, a light seemed to shine from the peerin. Nima’s was an eerie pale green.
“Set the cup on the table and pour the tea,” said Nima, her voice a low drone.
Lily pushed open the door, looking warily at Tavin. He was completely unbound, and though he was still dressed in his dragon armor, Nima had removed his gloves and boots. His eyes were closed, but his chest rose and fell irregularly, and sometimes his jaw twitched. What if he opened his eyes while she was pouring the tea?
“Is he awake?” asked Lily softly.
“Yes,” answered Nima.
Lily didn’t budge.
“And no.”
“He tried to kill me.”
Nima’s brow creased. “Hmmmm.”
A moment later she said, “I don’t see that memory. I don’t see much of anything these past few days. And yet . . . it’s like he’s hiding . . . or protecting . . . something. He’s very strong, even now. But he’s lost control. I don’t understand it.”
“Dubb said it was Curse that tried to kill me.”
“Hmmm. Possibly.”
Possibly? thought Lily.
“Please, Lily, the tea. And don’t spill it.”
Lily watched a look of pain cross Nima’s face, as though she were fighting back something.
Lily glanced down again at the tea tray in her hands, then at the table. She licked her lips and nodded.
“All right,” she said.
Lily took the last steps to the little table, thrust down the cup, and poured the tea as fast as she dared, then raced out, closing the door behind her. After a dozen quick steps, she slowed her pace, noticing for the first time just how organic and alive the architecture in Keegan’s house was. The exposed wooden supports were still covered in bark. Sprouting here and there were sapling twigs in full leaf. And the stone portions had been so perfectly laid that they looked like the mason hadn’t used any mortar.
Back in the main room, Dubb was sprawled on a couch, face down, and Keegan was holding a blanket, a bemused expression on his face.
“What is it, Keegan?” asked Lily.
Keegan glanced about helplessly. “I couldn’t get him to take off his sword.”
“I don’t think they do,” said Lily.
“Can’t exactly blame them, out in the wastes, hunting dragons—not much time for leisure activity, I wouldn’t think.”
Dragons, thought Lily, and her eyes nervously searched out the pack with the two eggs.
“Keegan, what’s going to happen with those eggs?”
He returned her worried look.
“Hard to say. Raewyn has plans, I know. But what will become of them . . .” he said, his voice trailing off. “They get so big so fast.” Keegan’s face suddenly cleared. “Raewyn! Yes! I have messages to send. I promised Dubb.” Keegan settled his eyes on Lily once more. He was troubled.
“What is it now?” she asked.
“I have many questions for you. And I imagine you have a few for me. But it’s very late, and I have tasks that cannot wait. I should show you to your room, where you must stay until Dubb arises.”
Lily nodded.
Keegan shuffled around the couch and opened a narrow door. “It’s not much.”
She peered into a room with a dirt floor and walls full of shelves.
“It’s a stillroom,” Keegan explained. “Storage for winter. No window, I’m afraid, but quite dry.”
“Um, okay.”
“And it has a lock, but not inside . . . Dubb refused to sleep anywhere unless he was outside your door. He kept mumbling some kind of nonsense about Tavin being dangerous.”
Keegan pulled a quilt off a nearby chair and handed it to Lily, who took it into the stillroom.
“It pains me not to set you
up in a proper room, with a proper bed—”
“It’s fine, Keegan,” said Lily, managing a smile for him. “I’ll see you in the morning.”
Keegan looked chagrined. “I’m not accustomed to locking people up in my own house, Lily.”
“Really, it’s all right,” said Lily, as she spread her quilt on the floor.
Keegan handed her a blanket and pillow before closing and locking the door.
Lily stood perfectly still, hugging the bedding tightly to her chest. The storeroom, from what she had been able to see, was long and narrow, with shelves packed with bottles and small wooden boxes. Standing in the dark, Lily wondered: How could I not have brought a flashlight, or a lighter, or even a pack of matches?
While still contemplating the darkness, she heard the sound of a key turning the lock. The door swung open quickly. Keegan’s face was full of determination this time.
“I’m not locking you up in my own house!” he said heatedly. “And I don’t care what I promised Dubb! You’re welcome to come with me. Maybe you can even be of some help.”
Lily eyed Dubb on the couch. She wondered whether Keegan simply wanted her to help him get around better. Then she thought about Tavin.
“It’s a very kind offer, but I think maybe I’d rather stay here.”
“Nonsense! You’re just worried that I want you to help me walk around and that maybe I can’t handle Tavin.”
“Ooh—”
“And I can see you’re not the least bit tired,” he continued. “Come on, now. Get out of there.”
Lily felt her stomach flip.
“Really, I don’t know—”
“You need not be concerned about your safety: a healer is never more powerful than when walking his own ground,” said Keegan. His voice grew deeper and he seemed to straighten a little, making Lily realize he was much taller than she had first thought. “And this has been my ground for a very long time.”
Lily liked the sound of that. “All right, then. I’m in.” She tiptoed silently to Dubb’s couch and set the pillows next to his head.
Much to their surprise, Dubb rolled into a sitting position and grabbed the pillows. Hunched over, he squinted, bleary-eyed, his face wrinkled from the fabric he’d been lying on. He gave the pair a look as though he judged them responsible for stealing all the happiness he would ever possess. Then he heaved a heavy sigh.