Dragonshadow

by Elle Katharine White

  “We hunt down this monster.”

  He didn’t raise his eyes. “Akarra couldn’t find him,” he said. “Tristan. She searched the whole time you were—while we were gone. Nearly burned the forest down looking, but there wasn’t a trace of him. I don’t understand. I killed him. Blood for blood, death for death, Mikla’s way. He died on that battlefield for what he did to our families. I ran him through. I watched him fall. Aliza, he was dead.”

  I sat down beside him. “I believe you.”

  “So how can he be here?”

  “I don’t know. And right now, it doesn’t matter. The king of the merfolk said the Green Lady wasn’t responsible for the Idar murders, which means we’re hunting two monsters.” I was surprised at the sound of my own voice. It was hard, cold, and it didn’t sound like a nakla anymore. “We start with the monster we know.”

  “We don’t know anything about this Green Lady,” he said.

  “We know what she wants. Vengeance.”

  “But for what?”

  “Drawn by a deep and dreadful wrong.” “Perhaps it’s time we found out.”

  Selwyn sat in his study, a map of the castle and surrounding villages spread on his desk. Cordelia stood at the window behind him, drumming a nervous rhythm on the windowsill. They both looked up as we entered. Selwyn’s eyebrow lifted on seeing me, but he managed a curt nod. Cordelia clasped her hands together. For a second it looked as though she would say something to me, but then changed her mind, settling on a look of pity that I ignored. I didn’t want her pity. I didn’t want anyone’s pity.

  Selwyn cleared his throat. “Lady Daired. Well. I’m glad to see you,” he said. “Lord Daired, while you’re here I suggest we start—”

  “No, Selwyn,” Alastair said. “No more lies. Tell us what you stole.”

  He spoke in a voice of deadly calm. I snuck a glance at Selwyn, but he didn’t seem to appreciate how close to fraying the thread of Alastair’s patience was. Choose your next words carefully, Your Lordship, I thought.

  “Stole?” Selwyn repeated.

  “On the beach you said the Green Lady thought you stole something,” I said. “That’s the wrong that drew her to Lake Meera. Tell us what it is.”

  “I misspoke,” he said, still addressing Alastair. “I haven’t stolen anything.”

  Cordelia flinched. “Niall, please.”

  “Hush, dear.”

  She bit her lip and clutched the windowsill like an anchor against a storm.

  “You’re lying, Lord Selwyn,” I said.

  “Lady Daired, I understand you’ve been through a terrible ordeal and I’m sorry for your loss, but it’s not a lie. In any case, what does it matter what this Green Lady thinks? A Tekari is a Tekari. Death and destruction are what they care about, not justice. She’s still—”

  “No, Niall!” Cordelia cried. “This has gone on long enough. People have died. You must tell them what you’ve done!”

  “I said be quiet!”

  The sound of flesh striking flesh was magnified in the quietness of the room.

  For one breathless second Cordelia stared at her husband, trembling fingers raised to the red mark spreading across her cheek. I was too shocked to move.

  “Oh—oh Thell.” Selwyn fell to his knees and reached for her. “Cordelia, my love, I’m sorry. I didn’t mean—”

  She shoved him aside and ran from the room.

  Selwyn stayed on his knees, head bowed, his shoulders rising and falling in an unsteady rhythm. At last he dragged himself upright and collapsed in his chair. His eyes were red and glassy.

  “Lord Selwyn,” Alastair said in a voice of ice and iron, “your hand is forfeit for what you’ve done.”

  Selwyn gripped his head and groaned. “You don’t understand. This was not supposed to happen. None of this was supposed to happen.”

  I started to follow Cordelia as Alastair removed his hand from the hilt of his sword and sat across from him. “Talk.”

  “I can’t . . .”

  “If you wish to keep your hand, you will talk.”

  “All right.” He sucked in a deep breath and straightened in his chair. “It’s—it’s Fyri.”

  I paused, the name holding me on the threshold.

  “Who?” Alastair asked.

  “The forge-wight who works the pump house below the castle. Many years ago she came to me after hearing about the wheelworks my father had built. She’s of a mechanical mind and she wanted to improve on his system. I agreed. Lord Daired, I’m sure you appreciate a forge-wight’s skill when it comes to metalworking. Fyri is a genius, and I owe her a great debt of gratitude. She keeps my family home in the good repair it deserves.”

  “Why would the Green Lady care that you have a forge-wight working for you?” I asked.

  Selwyn shifted. “Fyri will not take wages. I’ve offered time and again but she always refuses. Here she has food and lodging, and the only thing she wants in return is the challenge of the craft.”

  “So the Green Lady thinks you’ve stolen . . . what, Fyri’s labor?” I asked. “Does she know how Fyri feels about it?”

  “How should I know?” he snapped. “I—apologies.” He pressed a handkerchief to his brow. “About a month ago, after Fyri and I’d gone to inspect the miller’s new pump house in Morianton, we found the first dead troll. Not long after that the Green Lady’s haunting, if that’s what you wish to call it, began. Heavier mists than usual. Marshlights hanging about the abbey ruins, even though we don’t have any will-’o-the-wisps here. Then the pixies, and the second troll, and then that night with the maid . . . well, I believe you know the rest.”

  “If this forge-wight has been working for you so many years, why did the Green Lady wait so long to show herself?” Alastair said.

  “You think I haven’t been asking myself the same question, Lord Daired?”

  “May we speak with Fyri?” I asked.

  I may as well have asked Selwyn if I could set fire to the castle. He gave a violent start. “For what purpose?”

  “If the Green Lady is here because of her, Fyri may know how to send her away. To right the wrong she came to avenge.”

  “Ah. I see. Well . . . unfortunately Fyri left this morning for Morianton to continue work on the miller’s wheelworks. She didn’t plan to return until tomorrow. They’re anxious to make sure it works before the ice sets in. I’m sorry I can’t help you any further, my lord, my lady. I’ve told you all I know.” He stood. “I trust you can show yourselves out.”

  Alastair scowled, but together we left the room without another word. Selwyn locked the door after us.

  “Do you believe him?” Alastair asked in the hallway.

  “No. But Fyri can tell us the truth. And I don’t think it should wait for tomorrow.”

  “Agreed. Akarra and I can find her in Morianton and be back before sunset, but I . . .” He trailed off.

  “What?”

  “I don’t want to leave you alone,” he said.

  Instead of answering I leaned up and kissed him. “I’ll be all right,” I said, and hoped he didn’t realize it was a lie.

  The bed was made and our chambers had been tidied when I returned, deep in thought. The shadow of despair clawed at me as soon as I entered the room and it took real effort to keep from throwing myself back into bed and forgetting about everything beyond the tiny world of warmth and blankets. I sank into a stiffly embroidered armchair by the fire and glared into the fireplace as if the leaping flames were hiding the answers I sought.

  The pieces were there, but still something didn’t fit. Around and around Selwyn’s story flitted through my mind, looping and tumbling like a drunken pixie. I thought of the cavern beneath the castle. Fyri’s home among the wheelworks wasn’t luxurious, but I’d also seen nothing to hold her back if she decided to leave. That much of Selwyn’s story seemed true. Besides, Akarra had confirmed that Selwyn had been supervising the construction of the pump house at Morianton. It’d be easy enough to find out if Fyri
had gone with him.

  The pipes to the bath gurgled behind me.

  But if Fyri’s gone back there, wouldn’t the Green Lady notice? If an enslaved forge-wight was the wrong she came to right, why not right it when she had the chance? Fyri had been free of the castle for a full day, free to go where she wished, or leave entirely. Surely the Green Lady would have seen that? Or if she saw and doubted, why not at least use the opportunity to get the truth from Fyri herself?

  More gurgling, this time accompanied by the smell of rotten eggs. I glanced over my shoulder. The largest pipe trembled as water gushed into the pool, before slowing to a trickle, then a steady dripping. Plink. The smell of eggs faded. Plink. A few drops sent the surface of the water shivering. Plink. I turned back to the fire.

  And sat bolt upright.

  Fyri controlled the flow to these pipes. Last time that happened she’d accidentally misdirected the water from the kitchens.

  Which meant that Selwyn had lied. Fyri was still in the castle.

  I snatched up the nearest lamp and hurried out the door.

  It took careful timing to avoid being seen by the servants as I made my way back to the secret passageway behind the portrait. The underground cavern hadn’t changed since I’d last seen it. Nor had the clank of oiled chains and the low, rumbling mutter of the wheelmaster as she labored over a broken pulley. I stopped at the edge of the spring and raised my lantern, throwing light over the forge-wight’s armored back.

  “Fyri?”

  She spun around. “Good gods, girl, don’t sneak about like that! You’re liable to get an anvil thrown at your head.” The blue flame behind her mask dimmed as she peered across the water. “Daired, wasn’t it? Liza-something? I told you, unless you’re bringing me one of Niall’s little projects I don’t have the time for questions.” The fire brightened and she held up an ingot, shining dull white in the light of the furnace. “Though I have plenty more watersilver if you were here about a project.”

  “I’m not. But you gave me three questions last time, and I still have one left. I need to know about the pump house you and Lord Selwyn are building in Morianton.”

  “Why? Has something gone wrong? Did they break something already?”

  “No, it’s—”

  “It couldn’t have been those wheel bands. It’d take a mad troll to snap them.”

  “It’s nothing like that. We—”

  “Did the builders use the quarter-inch spikes for the mill wheel? Please say they didn’t. I told them to use half-inch.”

  “Fyri, I don’t know anything about what they’ve done! I just need to know if you’ve gone back there recently.”

  “Oh.” It must’ve been difficult to make that steel mask look forlorn, but she managed it. “Well, yes, I suppose. Niall’s had business in the castle for the past few weeks, so I went out to help the miller test the waters. He wasn’t sure how deep they needed to be.” She tapped one finger against the anvil at her side. “Then, ah, is that it?”

  “Not quite.” As quickly as I could I told her about the Green Lady and Selwyn’s account of her presence around the castle.

  Fyri laughed. “This thing is worried about me? Leaf and Lightning, what’s the world coming to? Creature’s wasting her time. I’m no slave. Next time I go to Morianton I’ll make sure to leave a great blazing message on the grass for her.”

  “Oh.” My shoulders sagged. The answer had been close, close enough to taste, and it had slipped through my fingers. “All right.”

  “Is that it?”

  “Aye. Sorry for bothering you.” I lowered the lantern and turned toward the stairs. Selwyn had led us in circles. Now we were in the same place we started, full of questions without answers—

  A moment later I was back at the spring. “Hold on a moment.” I looked at the ingot she still held in one hand. It looked . . . familiar. “What did you say about silver?”

  “I thought Selwyn might’ve sent you down with one of his little challenges. That’s what he did last time. Had the old woman deliver the specifications. Too busy to come himself, she said,” she added with a sniff.

  “Fyri, specifications for what?”

  “Oh, just a trifle. A plain silver box. Not much to look at, but then, I didn’t have much time. They were in a great hurry.”

  My hand shook on the handle of the lantern. “This box. It’s about two hands wide? Has a lid but doesn’t open?”

  Fyri wagged a finger, and I had the impression she was smiling beneath her mask. “Ah, there was the challenge. Watersilver’s an invention of mine, you know. Push and pull and pry on it all you like; if it’s not underwater, it’s not going to budge, and—Aliza?”

  I was already halfway up the stairs.

  I emerged from the portrait hallway into a castle in tumult. Servants rushed to and fro, whispering to themselves and looking scared. I ran headlong into Bretta as she dashed out of the kitchens. “Bretta, what’s going on?”

  “The mistress, milady. She’s gone!”

  “What? Where?”

  “Dunno, miss. I never seen the master in such a state! He and Lord Daired are out combing the grounds now. That Ranger and the beoryn are rounding everyone else up to search the castle.”

  I left her and hurtled up the stairs to our chambers two at a time. The unease that’d been nibbling away at my subconscious for the past few hours blossomed into full dread when I reached the top. The door to our room was ajar. Heart in my throat, I nudged it open.

  “Madam Mòrag?”

  Mòrag knelt next to the bed, her back to me, surrounded by our scattered luggage. She whipped around. White hair stuck out at untidy angles around her face as she labored to her feet, the silver box clasped in her hands. “Lady Daired, I can explain.”

  And then, like a wave, understanding washed over me. “You sent it to us, didn’t you?”

  She nodded.

  “What is it?”

  “Come,” she said and sat on the edge of the bath. Her hands trembled, but her voice was steady. “My lady was right. Things have gone far enough. I’m breaking my oath to Lord Niall by showing you this, but for Cordelia’s sake . . .” She plunged the silver box into the steaming water. “This is the secret folly of Niall Selwyn.”

  Ripples danced across the surface of the water. The lid shivered and beneath the broken shadows of light a pattern emerged. Silver wires rose up in the center in the wheel-and-trident sigil of Lake Meera, and Mòrag turned the wheel to the left. A click sounded within the box and she lifted it out of the water as the last of the watersilver pattern settled into place. She turned the wheel back to the right. Somewhere within a bolt shot home. The lid sprang open.

  The box was empty.

  Empty—save for a folded cloth at the bottom.

  I sat back on my heels. “I don’t understand.”

  Mòrag pulled it out and spread it on the edge of the bath. It was a small cap, furred but lightweight, the cloth hardly thicker than an onionskin and so black it was almost blue. Water splashed from Mòrag’s hands onto the stone and the drops scuttled toward the skin as if running to embrace an old friend. “It is the symbol of his great secret,” she said. “You recognize it, don’t you?”

  Distant memories of Idar lore drifted to mind, stories Henry had sung or Mari had recited for us on winter evenings. My face felt suddenly cold. Sealskin. “That’s a selkie’s cap,” I said slowly.

  “None of it was supposed to happen this way. He loved—loves—her so dearly. I thought she was happy.”

  I couldn’t tear my gaze from the tiny circle of fabric, at once so little and yet so dreadfully much. “Cordelia isn’t human, is she?”

  “No.”

  “So when she said her family was from Selkie’s Keep . . .”

  “She meant it. She told you the truth, such as she could. He forbade her to speak of it. He forbade her to speak of many things.” She dried her hands on her skirt. “It was a long time ago. I’ve been housekeeper to Family Selwyn for more than fifty y
ears. I all but raised young Niall and he—well, his happiness means a great deal to me. Not long after his father died he visited Selkie’s Keep on business. I don’t know everything that happened there, but a fortnight later he returned a husband, Cordelia in his arms.”

  Husband to a selkie? From what I’d heard the gentle, seal-like Idar of the coasts were shy creatures, relying on the human forms their sealskin caps concealed only in great need. “Did he steal her cap?”

  Mòrag didn’t answer right away, and that in itself was answer enough.

  “He did, didn’t he?”

  “No! She gave it to him. Cordelia told me that much. She would not be bound to his silence if she’d not parted with the cap willingly. She liked the land. Likes the land. And she did love him. I’ve never doubted that. But now . . . oh gods, it’s all gone to pieces now, hasn’t it?” She sank onto the nearest chair. “They could’ve been happy. They would have been happy, if it weren’t for the Great Worm. When Lord Niall was gone with the regiments, Cordelia started looking for her cap.”

  “Selwyn didn’t give it back?”

  “She never asked! She was Lady of the Keep, wife to the lord sentinel, with wealth, a title, everything he could give her. We protected her, provided for her—”

  “And she still wanted to leave.” I stood. “Madam Mòrag, none of this explains why you sent the box to us.”

  “When Lord Niall returned from Hatch Ford, I told him what Cordelia had done in looking for her cap. I’d never seen him so furious. They fought that night. The next morning, he had me commission Fyri to make the watersilver box and ordered me to send it somewhere safe, somewhere it couldn’t be harmed, but far from Cordelia. I sent it away with the wedding presents for you and your husband and hoped that would be the last of it.”

  “Why us?”

  “The Daireds are a noble house. I trusted you’d take care of it, even if you didn’t understand what it was. I never thought the box would find its way back to her. And I had no idea the Green Lady would come.”

  Oh, Mòrag, Selwyn, what have you done? “I wish you’d told me sooner.”

  Mòrag’s lips contracted as if smiling, though there was no mirth in her eyes. “Yes, I should’ve. I’ve been a fool, Lady Daired. I’ll be the first to admit it, but what I did I did for love of Family Selwyn. I cannot regret that.”