Morgen tucked a damp strand of hair behind her ear. “Did you purchase some when I was not looking?”
“Nein.” He wiped the droplets from his face. “The mine holds all the ore I will need, though…”
A deep rumbling reverberated the air.
“What is the matter?” She frowned at him.
“Rubrecht will not be pleased if his armor is not strong enough to stand the test of time. There is a vein in the mine that holds just the quality ore I need, but…”
Morgen adjusted in her seat to face him. “Ja? What is it?”
He glowered into the canopy of dripping pine boughs, their pungent aroma settling in his nostrils. “It resides in the place my parents died. The morning it happened, I was in the workshop when I heard the distant rumble of a cave-in. I hurried to the mine as fast as I could and tried to get to their bodies, but I couldn’t save them. The damage had been done. I have not returned to that section since—could not bring myself to.”
They made their way out of the cover of trees and onto the meadow. The rain had tapered off to a gentle mist. The aqua shade of the lake was darker than usual from the clouds in the sky. He spotted his home and workshop at the far end of the field, feeling relieved to be back. Maybe he would sleep better in his own bed that night.
Morgen startled him by curling her hand over his forearm. He looked at her solemn expression and returned his gaze to the meadow. She rested her head against his shoulder the rest of the way back to the byre. He didn’t move a muscle, not wanting her to break away. When they reached the tall double doors, sadly, she did.
The cart was brought right into the large vaulted room. They unloaded all the supplies and put them in their place. The horses were fed and watered, and soon she was settled beside Emich at the kitchen hearth, warming up and drying off.
He hadn’t eaten more than some bread and cheese before his exhaustion caught up with him. He had not slept a wink last night. A yawn escaped his lips, and before he knew it, Morgen helped him to his feet and guided him into his room. She sat him on the edge of his bed to remove his leather shoes, then helped to unbutton his doublet. He watched her move in the dim, not wanting to breathe. She proceeded to lift the hem of his shirt, and he raised his arms reactively.
With his tunic balled up in her hands, Morgen paused before him. She was so near that if he wanted to he could reach out and touch her, pull her in and hold her close. His ragged breathing echoing in his ears couldn’t drown out his fantasies. But it wouldn’t be right. It wouldn’t be right taking advantage. No matter how much he longed for her.
The moment passed, and she walked from the room, giving him a backward glance before shutting the door behind her. He dropped back onto his down mattress, feeling it conform to his body, and attempted to find sleep. Though all he could think of was her.
Morgen stared into the dancing flames in the hearth while she waited for the breakfast cereal to cook. She wasn’t sure what to expect for the day, but she knew it would require hard work. They would surely need energy in the form of a filling meal.
The click of a latch drew her attention. Emich’s door opened, and he walked into the dimly lit kitchen. His shirt hung down over the waist of his breeches, untucked, and his hair covered his eyes in a tangled mess.
“Guten morgen,” she said, trying to hide her smile.
Her morning greeting went unanswered. He only grunted in response.
“Did you not rest well last night?” she asked and stirred the pot of cereal so it wouldn’t burn.
Emich collapsed on the bench at the dining table and grumbled. “Too many things on my mind.”
“When was the last time you looked at yourself?” She reached for the comb that hung in the small satchel on her belt. Morgen walked over to stop behind him and began to run it through his tangled blond locks.
He tensed at her touch and tried to pull away, but she put her hands on his shoulders and gave him an order. “Be still. It will be over with in a moment so long as you do not fight me.”
She expected steam to rise from his nostrils as he sighed deeply and rested his arms on the table. She dragged the carved bone comb through the knots, trying to avoid the distraction of his muscular shoulders. His shirt may have covered his flesh, but she had seen for herself just how strapping he was when she’d helped him out of his clothes last night.
Morgen finished up and went back to their cereal at the hearth. She ladled out a helping into a wooden bowl and set it before his hunched form. “This should start you off right before we get started.”
He wiped off his spoon and paused before scooping it into his awaiting breakfast. “We?”
She sat across from him with her own bowl and blew at its steaming contents. “Ja, we. I did not come back with you to sit idly by. Rubrecht will not care a bit if your rafters are dusted and your shirts are clean. I, however—”
He took his first bite and said, “It is dangerous in the mine. My parents died there. I would not want you hurt. You should remain here until I return with the ore.”
“I am beginning to understand the real reason behind your living alone—if there is no one for you to argue with, you are always right.” She shot him a steady stare and waited for him to meet her gaze before she continued, “I am daughter to a miner. I know the risks, but I can be more useful by your side than twiddling my thumbs, waiting for your return.”
He sighed again and glowered at his food. “Who am I to go against you?”
“Now we are seeing things from the same perspective.” The corners of her lips upturned. “So, how far is the mine? Tell me more.”
“I usually fly there, but when I was young and before I had that ability, I hiked with my mother. My grandfather tunneled deep into the mountainside, and once he passed away my father discovered another vein of iron that he accessed from a different entrance. The metal was harder, stronger than anything else that had been taken from beneath the mountain. But all this time I have been using my grandfather’s tunnels, for they are safer.” Emich rubbed his jaw. “Both openings are on the northern face of this ridge. It should not take more than half the morning to get there.”
That didn’t sound so bad. “Can you fly us both there?”
He shook his head. “That is not possible. It would be too much weight for my wings to handle.”
Morgen pressed her hands to her stomach and glared at him. “Are you calling me stout?”
He frowned and appeared confused before shaking his head and answering, “That is not what I meant.”
Morgen took a deep breath. “Do you have an extra pick?”
He swallowed a large bite of cereal and sent his spoon clattering into his near empty bowl. “I know you are a miner’s daughter, but I do things very differently. You will not need a pick. So long as you stand back and wait for the dust to settle, you may collect the ore from the rubble like my mother would do and put it in a bag for me to carry back when we are through.”
Her curiosity piqued. “What do you mean?”
Emich stood up glowered toward the kitchen door. “I still cannot comprehend why you are here, but if it is to see me in the form of a dragon, then your day has come.”
Ever since he’d admitted he had the ability to turn into a scaly beast, she’d wondered what he looked like up close. What would his scales feel like?
She blinked back at him, unsure how to answer. He started for the door and said over his shoulder, “I will prepare everything for our departure. We will be gone until nightfall. If you would fill bladders of ale and pack enough food, I will meet you by the lake.”
Morgen watched him walk out of the kitchen and into the soft glow of the morning. He hurried out of sight, and she was left staring at the empty doorway. Eager to discover all that her day was yet to reveal, she wolfed down her remaining cereal and did as she was asked.
She waited by the lake with a filled satchel at her feet. When Emich emerged from his workshop, the largest leather sack she’d ever seen
was draped over his shoulder. It was as long as his body and nearly touched the ground. She suspected it wasn’t empty, based on the way it swung behind him as he walked.
Emich strode up to her and stopped. “You can still change your mind and stay here. You will still be one of the toughest women I have ever known.”
She refused to dignify his statement with a response. She faced due north. “This way?”
He nodded and started off with Morgen just behind.
18
The hike was easy until they reached the edge of the wooded terrain, then Emich started up a rocky, sloped trail. Morgen slid on loose gravel in a few spots, but it didn’t prevent her from remaining close on his heels. She wouldn’t have let anything slow her down.
The vistas were breathtaking from the side of the mountain without the obstruction of trees. Her legs burned by the time he stopped at a gaping crevasse in the rock wall. He panted and wiped the sweat from his forehead. “We are here.”
Emich set down his huge bag and nearly disappeared from sight when he opened it and delved inside. He reemerged holding a lantern and candle. He lit the wick with his flint and steel, then placed the candle inside the lamp. “Since the vein my father was following collapsed, I will need to find a new place to dig.”
She nodded while she tried to catch her breath and pulled out two bladders of ale. They both quenched their thirst before she secured the drinks in her pack. Emich turned into the dark opening with his lantern lifted.
Its light bathed the rocky walls and ceiling in a soft glow as they descended into the cave. The ceiling above them expanded into a jagged open maw as they traveled into the cool, dark passage. It smelled of damp earth and stagnant air. The farther Morgen went into the mountain, the more anxious she got. She had never been in such a place before. For much of her life, her father had mined in aboveground quarries.
Emich slowed when they passed between wood bracers that framed an earthen section. Morgen clasped his arm, beginning to feel the effects of the thin air. He turned to look at her, and she could see she wasn’t the only one feeling anxious in this ghost-ridden place.
His whispers bounced off the walls and were muffled in the shadows. “I told you about my mother. What of yours?”
Morgen took a shaky breath and gave his arm a squeeze. “My fondest memories are of my father. He raised me and took me along on his quest to chase rainbows.”
“Really?
“Nein, not really,” Morgen answered. “There was always something better over the next mountain, a fortune to be made or our destiny to chase.”
Emich took a few more cautious steps and asked over his shoulder, “Was your mother unkind?”
“I cannot say, for I do not remember her well. I only recall the fighting. She detested my father—and one day she left us for good.” Morgen tightened her grip on Emich’s arm as she stumbled over a rock. “From that point on, I tried to keep my father out of trouble. But it seems to be a disease of the living, following us wherever we go.”
A deep chuckle echoed off the walls. “Trouble?”
She sighed. “Ja.”
Emich paused a moment while he craned his neck to look deeper into the passage. His voice was restrained when he spoke. “We are close.”
He took a shallow breath and led them farther into the cold bowels of the mountain. She’d never thought sunlight was a thing you could smell, but now that she was so far beyond its reaches, she noticed its absence. Nothing lived at this depth. The essence of the minerals, which had forged the earth, filled the air with its heavy metallic perfume.
The passage widened considerably as they progressed into an open space. Morgen tilted her head back. Jagged rocks perforated the ceiling, and their elongated shadows moved as Emich walked with the lantern to the cave’s far end. He touched a mound of stone and hardened earth. “My father followed a ribbon of ore below this cavern. When I last came here expecting a tunnel, I found this—my parents’ grave.”
Morgen was beginning to feel like she was walking in her own grave. A chill traced down her back.
“Best get what we need so we can leave.” He shook his head and began to wander through the cavern with his eyes turned to the walls. He pointed. “If I tunnel through here, I might connect with the quality ore we need.”
Morgen squinted at the rocky surface. The candle was dim, but it provided just enough light to detect the pattern of minerals that surrounded them. She disregarded his suggestion nearly immediately, not seeing the colors she was looking for. Then she spotted it. On the opposite side of the cavern was a reddish stripe.
Pointing at it, she breathed out. “There. That is where we should dig.”
He frowned at her. She sensed his displeasure at being contradicted, yet she waited for his gaze to travel to the place she was gesturing. When his eyes finally settled on the reddish vein, he muttered, “It would appear that is a good place to start.”
She couldn’t help but smile, proud of the knowledge she’d gained from her father. Morgen set her bag on the ground while Emich moved toward the opening of the passage leading up to the surface. There he set down the lantern and opened his own leather sack. She expected him to produce tools—possibly a pick or spade and maybe even some hammers—but he held something she’d never seen before. Polished and sharpened iron shone in his hands. It reminded her of what she’d seen him forging the other day. It was pointed like an arrow tip but larger than his palm, and its center was hollow.
“What is that?” she asked, moving closer.
“It was forged by my father from the ore from these very caverns. Stronger than anything, but you will see.”
She looked at his open bag and asked, “What shall I use?”
Emich glanced at her with a frown. “I brought you a hammer to break the stones into smaller pieces. Since you have such a good eye for spotting ore, it should be no trouble for you to find what we need to load into this sack.”
“But who will carry it out of here? It will be too heavy.”
His bag was large enough to load more than two grown men inside. No one, not even the strongest man alive, could drag it far.
He shook his head. “Not so heavy for a dragon.”
Her eyes widened, and her breath caught in her throat. He must have noticed her reaction because he stared at her and asked, “Are you frightened?”
She swallowed quickly and shook her head. Her heartbeat quickened. Had the time come? Would she lay eyes on him in the form of a mythic dragon?
From within the inner folds of the bag, Emich produced the hammer as well as a square of cloth. He explained, “There will be much dust.”
He folded the fabric into a triangle and helped her tie it at the back of her head. Then he lifted it up so it protected her nose and mouth. She blinked at him, feeling her excitement grow.
Emich pressed the lantern into her awaiting hands and led her to the opening of the passage, carrying with him both of their bags. “It is best you stay out of the way while I work so you are not hit by rocks. Do not come into the cavern with the bag until I stop. And promise me—if you hear rumbling inside the mountain, do not think. Just get out.”
His deep blue eyes stared at her intently, waiting for an answer. She was caught by his gaze, but managed to nod in response. Nothing could have prepared her for what came next.
He began to peel off his clothes. First he dropped his shirt at her feet and before he bothered with his breeches, he carried the arrow-like tool with him into the center of the cavern. “Would you turn your back so I can shed the last of my garments?”
Heat permeated her cheeks, and she was quick to spin around.
His voice echoed through the cavern. “Please remember, Morgen. No matter how frightening I may appear, I will not hurt you.”
She turned her chin to rest it on her shoulder. Her eyes peered into the darkness. Morgen let the lantern hang by her side, trying to catch a glimpse. Movement stirred the stale air, and she slowly pivoted in place.
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Emich stood with his back to her. Not a stitch of clothing covered his body. She admired the sight of him until the moment he changed. His frame contorted and grew as he hunched onto all fours. Upon his pale flesh, shiny dark scales carpeted his body, and leathery wings sprouted from his back, nearly filling the height of the cavern. A long tail curled onto the ground, whipping about like a possessed snake. The creature turned its head, carrying with it a row of spikes that traced down its neck and spine.
Its beady eyes focused on her. She took a step back, feeling the thinness of the air yet again. Morgen struggled to regain her senses. Fear braced her in stillness. If she had not just witnessed it for herself, she would not have believed it. This powerful and frightening beast was Emich. A man who’d promised not to hurt her, she reminded herself.
Her throat dried. She swallowed and urged herself to hold up the lantern so she could see more clearly. The familiar glint of blue in the dragon’s eyes reflected back at her, and she muttered, “I am well.”
She wasn’t sure if it was said to comfort herself or Emich, but it seemed to do both. The beast folded and tucked its wings back and curled its tail around its body to its foretalons. The glint of steel caught her notice. The dragon was clutching the mysterious spearhead. It inserted the hardened triangular point of its tail into the weapon and secured it in place with the flip of a clasp.
Then the beast faced the striped wall. She watched slack-jawed as it whipped its weapon-clad tail over its shoulders and into the earth. Bright sparks flew from the steel when it impacted the rocks. Undeterred, the dragon’s foretalons clawed at the chunks, dislodging them from the cavern, sending them tumbling onto the floor. She stumbled backward in surprise.
Emich had been right. The more he burrowed into the wall, the more dust was sent into the air. A shard of rock whizzed by her head, and she retreated back farther into the passage. All the while, she watched in amazement. It was the fastest mining process she’d ever witnessed in her life. She found herself wondering what her father would think if he were there.
Sirens and Scales Page 153
