by D. E. Morris
“We do not belong here,” Lilia told her patiently. “We have duties awaiting us at home.”
“And duties abroad, I understand.” Rhiamon glanced at her tall companion. Despite being unable to see anything past his hood, he bowed and left her side to go be a silent guard over Connor and Rowan as they waited at the head of the road. “We can heal her...or use her as she is if she would let us.”
“She won't let you. Rowan is comfortable with the way things are. What may seem a disadvantage to you is a strength to her. She is more perceptive than any other person I have known, and she is loyal to her foster mother. She will not leave her.” There was a brief flash of something – anger or fear, it was hard to tell which – in Rhiamon's eyes that made Lilia take half a step back. “Farewell.”
Rhiamon said nothing, only bowed her head demurely. The robed man waited until Lilia joined her friends before returning to his mistress once more, leaving the three to make the long walk back to the town below on their own.
They were silent for a long time, none of them feeling comfortable to speak until they were well away from the village. Rowan walked ahead unaided; the morning mist still low enough for her to be able to see where she was going without issue. Lilia slid her hand into Connor's, then wrapped her other hand around the fist they made together. He looked over at her, his brows coming together as she lowered her head to his shoulder. “Are you okay?”
“I don't want to travel anymore. I just want to go home.”
He kissed her head, but said nothing.
By the time they reached the bottom of the mountain, the sun was well risen and the heat of the day had already begun to make them sweat. The old man at the gate only acknowledged them with a quick glance when they passed him. Otherwise, he remained still as a statue. They continued onward, but Lilia glanced back at the man before they were much farther away. He was far too old to be standing in the summer heat all day, covered by a robe. She pulled away from Connor without explanation and moved toward the pub. There, she asked for a bucket of water and bought a wooden mug. With these items in hand, she returned to the gatekeeper and placed her purchases beside him. Pale blue eyes shifted beneath the hood, moving up toward Lilia's smiling face.
“The last few days were warm and it will only be getting warmer,” she told him kindly. “Please, take care of yourself.” He looked down at the water, then up at her once more. His wiry white brows lowered as he shook his head, but Lilia only touched his arm. “It is no trouble, truly.” He shook his head again, making her tilt hers in confusion. “What is it?” Instead of answering, he opened his mouth as though to speak, but no words came out. Much to Lilia's shock, she realized his tongue was missing. She gasped and covered her mouth with a hand. “Oh my...you poor man. Telepathy! Can you speak through telepathy?” He nodded and she whipped around to where Connor and Rowan waited, calling for the girl.
“Here,” Lilia said, taking Rowan's hand as she approached and pressing it against the old man's shoulder. “He cannot speak.”
Thank you.
Rowan relayed the message, bringing a smile to Lilia's lips. “You are more than welcome.”
Thank you, but I cannot accept. If the Lady finds these things, I will lose more than my tongue.
Connor crossed his arms upon hearing Rowan repeat the old man's words. “Did she do this to you?”
It was my punishment. I spoke incorrectly and paid the price for it. It was not uncalled for.
“Neither are the things going through my head that I'd like to say to her,” Rowan growled.
Please...go. She has eyes everywhere. I do not wish to see you harmed.
“Why would she harm us?” Lilia asked.
The boy. She would find no use for him. He is ordinary. She collects oddities and makes them her own. She has no Volar in her fold, and she certainly has no Gaels, though I doubt she noticed what you are with your blindness. That would have been her main focus.
Connor began to ask something, but Lilia touched his arm and shook her head. “We do not wish to put you in any more danger. At least take a drink before we go.” She dipped the mug into the bucket and filled it before handing it to the old man. His gaze softened and he hesitated, but when Lilia pressed, he accepted and drank deeply. When he was done, she took the mug back and picked up the pail. “Be well.” He nodded, then returned his gaze forward as though he had never moved at all. Leaving the bucket and the mug outside of the pub, the three continued on. It wasn't long before Rowan began acting strangely.
“What are you doing?” Connor asked, watching her tug at the neckline of her dress.
“I want to take this off.”
“We're all hot,” Lilia sighed, glancing with worry back in the direction from which they'd come. “That poor man. I never even got his name.”
“I'm not hot,” Rowan snapped. “That woman is a witch! Who knows what she could have done to our clothes? I want them off!”
Connor grabbed his sister by the wrists to stop her tearing at her dress. “Enough,” he hissed. He glanced around to see if they'd drawn attention. “You're being paranoid.”
“And you're being naive!”
“Stop it, both of you!” Lilia grabbed them by their arms and pulled them off the road, closer to someone's home. “Honestly, Rowan. If Rhiamon was going to poison us, don't you think she would have done it with food? We've already eaten and none of us is ill.”
“I didn't eat this morning,” replied Rowan sharply. “And stop looking at me the way I know you're looking at me! Every bite I took, I spit it into my napkin and dropped it on the ground. Are you seriously telling me you ate the food?”
Connor groaned and raked his hands through his hair. “You've got to be kidding me. We've already left Nyx alone for too long and now you're telling me that we have to waste more time in getting back to her by finding you something to eat?”
“And getting new clothes,” she reminded.
“I am not getting you new clothes. What you are wearing is perfectly harmless.”
“Says the boy the evil witch didn't want.”
“She isn't a witch, and I couldn't care less whether she wanted me or not. And I am a man, not a boy.”
Rowan snorted. “Barely.”
Exasperated, Lilia shook her head and left the arguing siblings. She was only a few steps away before Connor covered Rowan's mouth with his hand and scowled in Lilia's direction. “Where are you going?”
“While you two squabble like children, I am going to find Rowan some new clothes and something to eat. You can choose to meet me back at the lake with Nyx or not. At this point, I really don't care. I'm going home today with or without you.” Almost as soon as her back was turned again, the bickering picked up once more. She was too tired to deal with either of them. Most of the time they got along just fine. Yes, Rowan had a bit of a mouth but Connor always took her snide comments in turn, usually retorting with one of his own. It was rare for them to argue as often as they had during the extent of this trip, and she was tired of hearing it. Mostly, she was just tired. She was not used to so much traveling and so little sleep. Her brain was full of too much information that was hard to process. She needed Ashlynn and Mairead.
Slow in her steps, Lilia tried to simply breathe in her surroundings and to release the tension she felt all over her body. Someone nearby was baking bread, one of her favorite scents, and she found herself wandering toward it despite already having eaten that morning. As she went along, she came across an open shop with pretty dresses and jerkins hanging in the open doorway, and decided to take a look inside. If they were going right home, it shouldn't matter much what Rowan wore, only that she wore something. If Lilia knew anything about the girl, it was that she would opt to go naked if she was determined enough to get out of her own gown and nothing else was available.
“Good morning, miss.”
Lilia turned to see a willowy man off to the side of the store. He was perched on a stool and had a needle and thread pinched bet
ween his fingers as he worked on the colorful garment in his hands. She gave him a warm smile. “Good morning.”
“Can I help you find something in particular?”
She bit her bottom lip and looked around. “I need a dress for a companion of mine. She stands about this high and is more muscular than I am.”
The man stuck the needle between his teeth and looked around his shop as well. “Let me see...” Setting the garment aside, he rose and walked to a purple and black dress hanging on the wall. “How about this one? There are laces here on the sides and the arms. That way she can loosen or tighten as she sees fit.”
“Perfect,” Lilia chirped. “I will take it.”
He smiled at her and brought the dress back to his work station to wrap in brown paper. Once it was tied closed with twine and he told her the price, Lilia pulled coins from the purse at her waist and handed the money over in exchange for the parcel. The man reached out to take what she offered, but paused upon seeing the tattoo on her left inner wrist. “Well...that's pretty.” His eyes flickered up to her face. “A lady like you should be surrounded with the finer things in life. Come in the back. I have much better dresses for you to choose from.”
The package hadn't quite been in Lilia's grasp and he pulled it to his chest, walking toward the back of the shop without waiting for her answer. “That dress will do!” she called, but he disappeared behind a curtain, making her wring her hands together. “Sir?” She sighed and followed in the direction he had gone, lifting the curtain gingerly before stepping through. There were no garments back here. In fact, there was little more than a table and some chairs, with room for nothing else but the man and a young woman at his side. She moved past Lilia and out into the store, making the winged woman start to panic and wonder what she's gotten herself into. Just as she was about to turn and run, the man pulled up the sleeve of his left arm and showed her his own tattoo, faded with time and age.
“Mine isn't as dark as yours,” he told her, seeing the relief in her eyes, “but then, it isn't as new.” With a look of sorrow on his face, he pulled his sleeve back down. “If the Keepers are taking in new recruits, I can only assume the time has come for all the old dogs to return to duty as well.”
Lilia frowned, hesitant in sharing anything with a stranger. Killian had promised that the mark meant safety. This man obviously knew what the tattoo meant. They had traveled to Cieria for this purpose to begin with, to find other Keepers. Believing in that promise, she gave a slow nod. “Unfortunately, that seems to be the case.”
The man shook his head with a sad sigh. “I was wondering how long it would be before that happened. Every day we hear about some dragon or Gael being slain, sometimes whole families of them. If I didn't hear word from anyone else soon, I was going to start gathering the troops myself.” He lifted his head to look at Lilia. “Who sent you?”
“Killian O'Cleary,” she said uncertainly, but the man chuckled.
“Now that is a name I haven't heard in a long time. I should have known if any of us...ah, well. It's good that he's active again. He's got a good head on his shoulders.”
Lilia lifted a brow. “You know Killian?”
“Oh, sure. We trained together for a turn. We didn't know each other much at all, but almost anyone who ever bore the mark knew Killian. So what are the orders?”
She blinked. “I don't have any orders. My companions and I have been traveling, trying to find other Keepers to make sure they knew of what has been happening...what has happened recently.”
“Oh, we know.”
Her breath caught in excitement. “You know of others? Near here? We just came from the mountain village of Cynefin and-”
“What in blazes were you doing up there, girl?” The man's eyes were wide with horror. “Stay as far away from that place and that woman as you can. You hear me?”
“O...okay.” She shook her head in confusion. “Why? What do you know about it?”
“I don't want to talk about it.”
She pursed her lips in frustration but chose not to press the subject. Instead, she asked, “Have you heard anything down here about a culling? It seems that is the next step in this quietly growing war.”
“No one is talking about it, but it's certainly happening. We don't have many Gaelic families in Cieria, neither do we have a great deal of dragons, but I've heard things...”
Lilia tilted her head. “What sort of things?”
“I've heard whispers of a purge.”
Her blood ran cold. This was exactly what Killian and the others feared. “I overheard someone singing a song about a purge.”
“While in that village?” He nodded before she could answer. “I'm not surprised. Siness, Ibays, Braemar, and Caedia pride themselves on the freedoms they allow Gaels and drags. Well, Rhiamon and her brood believe much the way Tadhg used to, only they're willing to take their hunting one step further.”
“How do you mean?”
“Anyone caught harboring or helping any of the beasts will pay a price, and she will make sure they live to regret it, all while serving her of course.”
Lilia looked toward the outside as though she could see through the walls. “The old man at the gate?”
“One of her 'converts'. He used to be a painter – did a beautiful portrait of High King Brydion and his family – but he was known to associate himself with Gaels. Rhiamon threatened him, telling him that he was allowing filth to come and taint our villages. She said that he needed to send them away or he would pay the price. He refused, even going so far as to cause something of a riot when he started shouting in the street one day, calling her out and saying terrible things about her. They were all true, but they were still terrible.”
“So she cut his tongue out.” The man nodded. “But, why did he join her?”
“She gave him the choice: his life would belong to her, or she would take the lives of his family. Now he's all but brainwashed into serving her and believing he loves every minute of it, just like the rest of 'em.”
Lilia pinched the bridge of her nose. It was all too much. “How often does something like this happen?”
“Not often. Like I said, they're few and far between.” The man scratched his chin. “Although I did hear just this morning that some of the men in the village caught wind of a young dragon not far from here.”
Her stomach dropped. “Where?”
“North? About a mile or two, I think. Near the lake that borders Cieria and Alybaen.”
“Nyx...” Lilia whipped around toward the exit. “I have to go!”
“Wait!” The man grabbed Lilia's arm before she could get too far away. “That's your dragon, isn't it? If you're going to face those men, you're going to need weapons and a partner.” He let her go and reached for a sword hanging above the curtain that separated the two parts of the shop. “Open that trunk over by the window. Take whatever weapons you might be able to use.”
Shaking her head, Lilia watched him strap the sword to his belt. “Please, you really don't have to.”
“I do.” He looked at her, serious. “We Keepers watch out for one another. Hurry up now. We can take the horses tied out back.”
Her initial reaction was to argue. The realization of the man's selflessness and willingness to help without any further sort of explanation made her feel as though she was in the presence of someone that would take control and make sure everything was all right. With a decisive nod, she hurried to the chest to pull out something she could feel comfortable wielding.
Though it would have been much quicker had she been on her own, as she and the shopkeeper raced through the forest on horseback, Lilia knew if the situation at the lake had grown unfavorable, her new friend would be a good asset to have. He took the lead, her horse following his without much direction from Lilia. Whereas the trek through the woods on foot had taken a good chunk of time, they came to the edge of the forest so quickly that they had to pull the horses up short so as not to burst through onto the scen
e.
Just as she feared, there were several men in the small clearing before them, facing Connor who stood alone on the shore as though he could protect his dragon by himself. Each man was armored, but it was dented and poorly constructed, certainly nothing that would keep them safe for long against a real threat. Even their swords were tarnished and not well maintained. For what they lacked in true defense, however, they more than made up for in anger. It was not hard to see the sneers and the red faces as they looked past Connor to the night dragon perched atop the large boulder in the middle of the lake. She was crouched with teeth bared and eyes narrowed to slits. Connor was her human, and Lilia knew well enough that if she thought he was in danger, the dragon would not hesitate to attack.
“Where is Rowan?” she asked herself quietly. Usually the mop of red hair gave the girl away, but she was nowhere to be seen. Perhaps she was on the other side of Nyx, keeping her from pouncing.
“Move out of the way, boy!” shouted one of the men. “That dragon is on Cierian grounds, and that means it belongs to us. We got no laws keeping us from claiming that hide.”
“That dragon belongs to me,” Connor challenged, gripping his well-polished sword. “Even if you could get past me to get to her, she'd rip you to shreds as soon as you even touched a hair on my head.” With a cheeky smirk, he twirled his sword once in his hand. “On second thought, maybe you'll get lucky. Care to try your luck?”
Rowan popped up from the other side of Nyx as she climbed up the night dragon's side to perch behind her head. Despite the animal's growl that rippled through the small open area between the surrounding forests, the girl looked perfectly comfortable where she was. “I don't know when she ate last,” she called, laughter in her voice.
The comment had the hunters shuffling and looking at one another. As though for effect, Nyx snorted sparks and ruffled her wings. The man closest to Connor took a step back, his sword dropping slightly. “Well...then...you best get out of here while we're feeling generous or we shoot it down.”
Lilia swung her leg over the side of her horse and dismounted. “Time for me to go.”
