Of Dragon Warrens and Other Traps

by Shannon McGee

  “Maybe you’re hungry? I can’t imagine why else you’d come up to me,” I mused aloud.

  If she was the runt, she might have been shut out by her litter mates. That might have explained it. Where was Dai this time of day?

  I found him practicing with his long-bow in the archery section of the practice yard. I waited until he had loosed the arrow he had notched when I first arrived before speaking to him. “Good morning.”

  He turned to me, lowering the bow to his side. “Good morning, Taryn. Who do we have here?” The kitten squinted pale eyes at him and yelled some more.

  “I found her in the barn—or rather, she found me. Do you know where any new litters might have cropped up around here? Or who her parents might be? She looks like Dove, doesn’t she?”

  He inspected my charge. “She does. It is possible.”

  “Is she ok out on her own? She’s so small…” Dai and I had spoken very little since we had first come to Forklahke. I felt like I was back in lessons, standing in front of the tutor with my assignments half finished.

  “If you put her back in the barn she’ll make it, or she won’t. There’s not a lot you can do for her in the month we have left here.”

  I flinched. Then my chin jutted forward, obstinacy winning out over uncertainty. “I’m not looking to coddle her or anything. I don’t know a lot about cats, and I thought you might have had an idea.”

  He sighed. Without answering me, he pulled another arrow, sighting down it at the target. His arrows were fletched with red and brown pheasant feathers. Three of them were clustered at the center of the target. He loosed the fourth one, and it soared to join its mates.

  Ire bloomed in my chest, a dull warmth. Why was I getting this attitude? I had worked hard these past six months, harder than Harold, for example, who spent much of his time drinking in town because he simply didn’t care. I even won my sparring matches about as often as I lost these days. Especially against people like Cassandra, who believed herself to be good enough that she didn’t need to practice as often as others did.

  “Are you’re still upset with me about what we talked about when we first arrived?” My voice was low. The practice yards were full, and this wasn’t exactly something I wanted getting around.

  He flicked his eyes at me. “The kitten has nothing to do with that.”

  “So, you are still upset with me.” I was glad of the kitten in my hands. She kept me from clenching them into fists. This wasn’t fair! “How can you still not trust my motives for being here? Have I given you any reason not to change your mind?”

  The flat look Dai gave me made my heart stutter. “Are you still interested in the connection between the man who purchases creatures for his menagerie and Master Noland?”

  Blood roared in my ears, and for a moment my eyes saw nothing. Aella had told? She had told Dai of all people? After I had explained to her that he was keeping an eye on me? I still hadn’t been officially signed on to the company, despite their departure date drawing ever closer. Was this why?

  My lips felt numb when I said, “No. I’m not. And even if I were interested, it’s not something I have any intention of pursuing. It’s not my business.”

  He nodded once. “I believe that, which is why I have said nothing to Aedith. If you ask whoever is in the kitchen today for meat scraps, they will usually give them to you. The kitten can eat that.” He notched another arrow.

  I had questions. How had he known that I’d proposed a connection between those two people? What had he thought about the connection? Was he upset because I had asked or because he saw a link too? Did Master Noland scare him that badly? But Dai was no longer looking at me, and the kitten was fussing.

  Around me bow strings hummed, and weapons thwacked as they hit dummies and real opponents. Horse hooves beat the ground as mercenaries squared off on their backs. None of them seemed to be paying us any attention, as I internally warred with a fierce need to press him on this.

  Dai continued to pointedly not look at me. His dark brows were lowered in concentration over stern eyes that remained fixed on his target. His mouth was a straight line. Letting my desire sink away into the ground in an exasperated exhalation, I slunk away.

  Anthony was working in the kitchen. He was a tall man, in his late twenties with a large droopy nose and a shadow of stubble across gaunt cheeks. Kind brown eyes were framed by thin spectacles, and he favored his right leg as he stood. The left one had been mangled by a manticore five years ago. Healers had salvaged the leg to the point where he could still ride and walk, but I knew it pained him, especially in the cold.

  Despite his notable lack of prowess when it came to cooking, he was in the kitchen more often than not, trying out new recipes. Tess had once snidely asked him why he kept requesting kitchen duty, despite all the grief his experiments garnered him. Anthony said he found the act of putting together a meal soothing and claimed he was improving every day.

  Either that was true, or I was getting used to his concoctions. Whichever it was, they no longer seemed quite so bad as when I had first arrived.

  Today he was bent over a large cauldron. The steam wafting from its mouth smelled like pork and… cabbage? I wrinkled my nose.

  “Anthony?”

  He jerked his head up, fingers running absently back through the thick curls atop his head. “Yes? What can I do for you?”

  I proffered the kitten, who was now curled in the crook of my arm. “Dai said that I could get scraps to feed this little girl. I think she’s a runt.”

  He peered over his glasses at the kitten thoughtfully. “Yes, I should have something that she could eat.” Next to the cutting board was the scraps bucket, used mostly for fishing bait. Deftly he plucked out a few gobbets, putting them in their own separate wooden bowl. “You’re Taryn, right? You’re the one who had a close call with a gryphon this past autumn.”

  I nodded, uncomfortably. “Yes, that’s me.”

  “Does she have a name?”

  For a moment I thought he was asking about the gryphon, but then I saw that he was looking down at the kitten. I frowned. Aella had named the other cats after birds. I liked that idea, but I was not feeling so warmly toward her at the moment.

  “Her name is Mouse.” I said.

  He smiled, handing the bowl off to me. It was full of fatty bits, as well as tendons and the like, all which still had small bits of chicken and pork attached. Mouse lifted her head, smelling the meat. I sniffed, but my nose wasn’t good enough to smell anything over whatever Anthony was boiling.

  “Dai is always in and out of here, getting treats for cats named after birds. Now we’ve got one name after a rodent. I’d feel sorry for them, if I thought they understood what their names meant.”

  “That’s where I got the idea. It’s cute though, right? She’s little and gray like a mouse.” My thumb stroked her soft fur.

  He bobbed his head and went back to stirring the large pot behind him with a long-handled wooden spoon. “I think you’re right that she’s a runt. You can leave her in here if you like, so the other cats don’t take her food. She’s small enough that she won’t be able to get on the counters. When she’s full, she’ll probably fall asleep. I’ll watch out for her.”

  “Thank you, Anthony. That would be really helpful.” I set down both kitten and bowl. Mouse immediately busied herself with gulping down her meal.

  Putting her back in the barn to eat had worried me. Though, I realized with private embarrassment that I’d had it in my head that lesser gryphons might have stolen her meal, as they would have back in Nophgrin, not the other cats. Yet, I hadn’t wanted to spend my whole day minding her. Not when Aella and I clearly needed to talk.

  Anthony had provided the perfect solution. He was not the most talkative man, and we hadn’t gotten to know each other very well, but I had never seen him be unkind to anyone. Not even when they teased him.

  Anthony set a small bowl of water beside Mouse. “I don’t mind. I like cats. So long as they
’re small, with no extra bits from other creatures.” He gave me a crooked smile, which I hesitantly returned.

  “You and I are in agreement on that. It’s really ok?”

  He waved me away. “No problem. No problem. She’ll be here when you return.”

  I gave the kitten a final stroke from head to tail and left, pausing in the doorway to glance back one more time. Anthony was already turned back to the dish he was preparing. He was adding an entire fistful of salt.

  Where the kitchen had been toasty and humid, just outside the door was crisp and cold, and I quickstepped across the causeway between the dining hall and the leftmost barracks. I was fairly certain that Aella was in our room. She had been there mending some clothing when I’d gone out only a few hours ago, and she was a slow sewer.

  She grinned as I entered the room, shaking a pair of breeches at me from the top bunk where she sat cross-legged. “You see this? I tore the seat of it at our last beach fire. It’s been a real pain, but it’s almost mended. It just looks cursed stupid. I’ll have to wear a longer tunic with it from now on.” She faltered, seeing my stormy expression. “What is it?”

  “Do you remember weeks ago me telling you that Dai was keeping me on a short rope? That he was keeping an eye out for reasons not to let me join Twelfth Company?”

  “Yes?” She drew the word out slowly, her eyes searching my face for a clue of what I was going to say.

  I shut the door behind me, softly. I paused, my hand on the iron door knob, mulling over my next words. “Do you remember telling Dai that I thought there was a connection between Seventh Company’s buyer and Master Noland?”

  “I didn’t!” The shock in her voice seemed real enough, but it did nothing to quell the anger that had been slowly building since I’d left the practice yard.

  “Oh, you didn’t?” I whipped around to glare at her. “Then explain how Dai would know that I had suggested it!”

  She threw her breeches onto the bed, her scowl dangerous. “Gods above and below, I don’t know—if I told you that I didn’t do it, then I didn’t!”

  “Then tell me how Dai knew!”

  “If you’d let me think then maybe I could!”

  I glowered at her but checked my retort. I beckoned for her to go ahead, stalking to the fireplace. I used the metal poker to stir the logs inside, the new air paths causing the flames to gutter, then strengthen.

  Finally, slowly, she said, “Ok. I ran into Kaleb after you had gone to the mess hall that day. He was getting some reports from his room. I left your name out of it…but I did ask him what he thought of my suspicions that something bigger was afoot. He asked what made me think of it, and all I said was that five of us from different companies had been discussing the spring. I told him the idea had occurred to me on the way back to my room.”

  My blood zinged in my wrists. “What did he say when you asked?”

  “He didn’t say much of anything. He was in a hurry, and what he said was that it was nothing I should worry about. Well… he said it was something I shouldn’t be concerned about. He said to trust the commander.” Her furious expression had relaxed, going distant in her recollection.

  “That’s why you were so distracted that morning,” I said, “because of what he didn’t say.”

  She nodded. “I could tell he knew something, but I had to meet with you, and I knew if I pressed the issue or went to mother about it I’d risk calling attention to you, and whatever you think, I did intend to be careful of that. Turns out he must have mentioned me asking, and Dai was suspicious anyway.” She exhaled gustily. “I might as well have pushed my luck.”

  I scuffed my boot, cutting tracks in the soot that clung to the stones around the hearth. “I’m glad you didn’t. If you had, Dai might have been more than just suspicious of me. He might have outright shut me out of Twelfth Company.”

  “I am sorry, Taryn. I didn’t mean for him to take my questions to Dai. I should have known that he would.”

  I cut back a biting reply that she should have. It wouldn’t help anything. I was just as guilty as her of forgetting that Dai and Kaleb were more than our friends; they were the commander’s seconds. To her credit, she had more reason to forget. She had known them even longer than I had. Her mother had known them when she was young. They were more like uncles to her.

  “It’s fine,” I bit out. She gave me a knowing look, and I sighed huffily, rolling my eyes to the ceiling. “I’ll get over it. It’s not like Dai ended up deciding my interest was a deal breaker.”

  “True enough.” She made a noise of agreement. Her fingers were skimming lightly over the rumpled blankets around her. They stopped short as she plucked a thick needle from the folds of her coverlet. She placed it back in her sewing kit, along with the thread she had been using.

  I watched her for a moment before asking, “Why didn’t you tell me that it seemed as though Kaleb had already been thinking about our idea?”

  She shook her head. “You didn’t want me asking in the first place, and I didn’t want to cause you to worry. I assumed the conversation would stay between Kaleb and me. And I…” She caught her lower lip between her teeth, worrying it, before she continued. “I didn’t want to tempt you.”

  “Ah,” I said, stung.

  “You said you were trying to keep clear of it. Maybe it was only me thinking I knew how I’d feel in your position,” Aella hurried to say, “but I’d have been waiting for a sign that the gods intended for me to get revenge. Even if I knew I shouldn’t. Maybe especially. I wanted to protect you from that.”

  Was it a blessing or a curse, I wondered, that this girl new me so well? That was how I had felt…Torn between knowing that I should stay far away from Master Noland and knowing that he deserved the harshest retribution I could muster. Wanting some irrefutable sign to show me that going after him was the right thing to do, so that the choice could be out of my hands. That was how I felt still.

  Even so, I was pretty sure that if she had talked with me instead of deciding for me, I would have made the right decision, and that chafed me. She was the one who had said that I wasn’t like Michael, that I wouldn’t follow the same path as him. How could I believe that she felt that way if her actions didn’t hold true to that? How could I believe she trusted me… if she didn’t?

  “I still wish you would have told me,” I said.

  I had every intention of giving her a piece of my mind. As I looked at her though, I hesitated. Her eyes were doleful, and her lower lip was jutting out slightly in a pout. Only the slightest slant in her eyebrows hinted at the steel will that I knew her for. Feeling something like tiredness settle across my shoulders, I realized I didn’t want to fight. I wanted things to be ok with us. What was done was done anyway, right? And what good would it do to pick a fight over this when she was technically right?

  “I know you wish I’d told you,” she began, “but—”

  I cut her off before she could defend herself, grudgingly admitting, “But I probably would have obsessed about it a lot more these past few weeks, if I had known there was something more to it than our idle wonderings. You were right. I can’t help it.” I lifted my hands in supplication. “There’s this pull in my gut, and no matter how many times I try to push it away…” I looked away.

  “It’s still there,” she finished for me. “Your unfinished business.” When I looked back up at her, she smiled at me softly and leaned over the railing so she could keep her voice low. “I get it. I’m not Dai, Taryn, and I only tried to hold you back because I thought that was what you wanted. You have to know though, if you ever get a good shot at that man, if it’s what you want, I’ll help you draw your bow string back. Gladly.”

  I shook my head. “No. You were right in the first place. Whatever evils Master Noland is cooking up, they don’t have to have anything to do with me. The past is the past. That’s the right decision. Following Dai’s guidance and trying to forget, that’s the right decision.”

  She didn’t look as
though she particularly believed me. “Maybe. You know what we do know now though?”

  I drifted closer. “What?”

  “You were probably right. Even if it’s nothing anyone can prove right now, we’re not the only ones who suspect something going on between Master Noland and Hamash’s buyer.”

  I tilted my head speculatively. “You don’t know that for sure. Kaleb didn’t actually say that. Plus, there’s nothing we can do about it, even if it is true. Dai said no companies take jobs for or against Master Noland.”

  “Not directly,” Aella interjected.

  “And,” I glared at her, “the guild leaders didn’t even think enough of those suspicions to tell Hamash to leave off his buyer.”

  Aella curled her mouth, as though she doubted that. “I’m just saying, that when the lordlings play, mercenaries always become involved eventually.”

  “But I’m not supposed to be pushing for that,” I reminded her, less force behind my words than I would have liked. “No matter what I feel, I’m supposed to keep rowing along the straight and narrow.”

  Aella began to fold the clothing piled around her. “Trust me, Taryn, if we’re right, you won’t even have to turn the sails yourself for us to blow into this one.”

  Feeling miserable, I sneezed three times in quick succession. It was the first week of what many northerners and midlanders called “the planting season.” Torrential rains were pouring down, flooding any land that was still frozen and reducing the training yard to an icy bog. Like a dolt, I had trained in it. The results had been a thorough soaking to my very bones.

  I ought to have known better. Hadn’t I spent enough sheep watches in this sort of rain to know that it was no joke? The rain was barely warmer than ice melt, and the wind whipped it about so any bare piece of skin was frozen within mere minutes.