We don’t have a serenity garden. And a dragon trampled the flowers in the front yard again.
Those dragons are heavier than they look. Jaxi made a throat-clearing noise in Sardelle’s mind, a surprisingly diffident one. Are you perhaps letting this newspaper drama affect you more than usual because you’re in an… altered state?
An altered state?
Yes, you haven’t spoken about it to me yet, but since we’re bonded, I am of course aware of things you haven’t told others yet. Including Ridge. Those last two words seemed to hold a hint of reproof.
Sardelle propped her elbow on the table and rested her forehead in her hand.
You’re not distressed about it, are you? Jaxi asked. Now that you’re paired—and planning to permanently pair—with a man you love and who loves you, this seems like a natural thing to happen. Not that I would have approved of it if you’d asked me. Babies are messy. Loud. Smelly. Loud. Demanding. And loud.
Afraid the noise will make it difficult for you to relax and admire the view in the living room?
Now you’re just mocking me.
Sardelle lowered a hand to her belly, aware of the tiny life that had started growing inside of her womb. She guessed it to be six or seven weeks along and to have been conceived around the time she had proposed to Ridge—and vice versa. Perhaps it had even been that night. She’d been somewhat distracted by the fact that they’d been celebrating their proposal atop a thousand-foot-high stone arch in Crazy Canyon—his dream location for such an event, one she’d gone along with even though dinner at a nice restaurant in town would have suited her fine.
Jaxi had been there, willing to lend magical levitation assistance if she or Ridge rolled off the blanket spread on the flat spot at the top of the arch, but Sardelle had been somewhat concerned about the height and hadn’t been focused on keeping certain things from taking root afterward. And because she’d told Ridge months earlier that she could do that with her magical powers and that there was no need for them to use contraceptives, they hadn’t been. It had been several days before she’d realized her post-coital sweep hadn’t been as thorough as it should have been. At that point, she’d considered whether or not to let the process continue, but not for long. Even though it had been very early, she hadn’t been able to imagine ending the life they had created.
She just hadn’t figured out how or when to tell Ridge. The last time they had discussed children, he’d been startled and even alarmed by the idea of himself as a father, claiming his reckless past meant he wasn’t a fit role model. She thought she had been on the verge of talking him out of that, promising that it only mattered what he did after the baby was born, not what kind of man he’d been ten or twenty years earlier, but then they’d battled Morishtomaric, and Ridge had been captured by that sorceress. Sardelle and Ridge hadn’t spoken about children since then, and she worried about what his reaction would be. Would he truly welcome such a drastic change to his life? Especially now, when he was still settling in to his new duties and responsibilities as general, and they weren’t positive that peaceful times lay on the horizon?
Give him a chance, Sardelle, Jaxi suggested. Even if he’s taken aback at first, I believe he’ll be delighted in the long run. He’s a good man. I wouldn’t have allowed you to fall in love with him otherwise.
You wouldn’t have allowed it? I believe you were buried under thousands of tons of mountain when I was first falling for him.
I could have asserted my influence if necessary.
I—
A shriek came from the side of the house, and Sardelle almost pitched off the picnic bench. She jumped up, whirling in that direction as she stretched out with her senses.
Uh oh.
Ridge’s mother, Fern, a woman who believed in neither magic nor dragons, stood on the pathway at the side of the house, a basket of vegetables gripped in one hand and folders clutched against her chest with the other as she gaped at Phelistoth. Tylie lost her concentration, her rock thumping to the ground, and she stared at Fern. Phelistoth lifted one eyelid for a few seconds, then closed it again, indifferent to human cries of alarm.
“Fern.” Sardelle rushed toward her as she groped for words to explain.
For months, she had worried that Fern would learn she was a sorceress—and that magic existed—from reading the newspapers or hearing of Sardelle’s exploits in one of the battles to defend the city. She’d never imagined that Fern would simply walk into the yard and spot Tylie floating rocks around. Or had she seen that? Maybe Fern had been focused on Phelistoth. An admittedly alarming sight to a woman who didn’t believe in dragons.
The folders slipped unnoticed from Fern’s arms as she continued to gawk at him.
“Are you all right?” Sardelle asked when she reached Fern’s side. It relieved her when Fern didn’t jerk away from her—though maybe that was because she was too stunned to notice Sardelle.
Jaxi, why didn’t you warn me she was coming? she asked telepathically as she bent to pick up Fern’s folders and take the basket of vegetables from her. They looked to be fresh from her garden.
Jaxi offered the mental equivalent of a shrug. Because I wasn’t paying attention. Just like you.
Sardelle thought about asking Phelistoth the same question, but it was clear he was enjoying the sun, like a fat iguana on a warm boulder, and cared nothing about who wandered onto the property.
“Fern?” Sardelle asked. “That is Phelistoth, one of the two dragon allies that Iskandia currently claims.” She thought about also introducing Fern to Phelistoth but doubted he would care.
Good guess, Jaxi said.
“I… I…” Fern closed her mouth and swallowed before she managed to get more out. “I’ve heard the stories, of course, and read the accountings in the newspapers, but the newspapers have been so ridiculous of late…” Fern glanced at Sardelle, and Sardelle winced, certain she’d seen the sorcery accusations. “I just didn’t truly believe there were such things as dragons, now or ever, to be honest. I thought they were just stories. Mythological tales from long ago.”
Aren’t there dragon bones in the museum in the city? Jaxi asked.
Maybe she hasn’t been.
Not a very worldly woman, is she? Especially considering Rock Cheetah is an explorer.
I don’t think Moe is home very often to chat with her about his explorations, Sardelle replied, using Ridge’s father’s true name rather than the silly moniker he’d given himself.
“I saw him blink,” Fern said, still staring at Phelistoth.
“Yes, he’s real,” Sardelle said. “He’s usually more animated.”
“What is he doing here?” Fern lowered her voice. “Are we in danger?”
“We shouldn’t be. As I said, he’s one of our allies. Do you want to go inside? Or I can get you some tea, and we can have it at the picnic table?” Sardelle started to wave to it, then caught herself. The newspaper was still open to that page. If Fern hadn’t yet seen the latest issue, Sardelle didn’t want to point her to it or do anything to remind her about magic. For the moment, she seemed only to have realized that there was a dragon sunning himself in the yard, not that Tylie had been levitating rocks.
“Inside,” Fern said firmly, her eyes still wide.
“Yes, let’s get that tea.” Sardelle smiled, attempting to radiate serenity, though that emotion was fleeting this morning.
“Shall I keep practicing, Sardelle?” Tylie asked as Sardelle led Fern to the back door.
Fern tilted her head, no doubt wondering what she could be practicing while standing barefoot in the yard next to a snoozing dragon.
“If you wish.” Sardelle silently added, If you need a break, perhaps you and Phelistoth could go for a ride. Ridge’s mother isn’t used to seeing dragons, and his presence is… large.
But he’s not at all fearsome right now. He’s enjoying his nap.
Not sure if those two would end up leaving or not, Sardelle directed Fern through the kitchen and into the living
room, to a spot where she wouldn’t be able to see through a window to the backyard. Assuming the vegetables were for her and Ridge, she set them on the kitchen table before joining her.
Fern, still looking dazed, started to sit on one of the fuzzy green cushions Jaxi had recently maligned. Fern caught herself halfway down, pursed her lips, and stepped over to one of the more sedately—and, Sardelle liked to think, tastefully—upholstered armchairs.
“I’ll get that tea,” Sardelle said, after returning Fern’s folders to her. “There are some biscuits and jam, too, if you’d like. Are these vegetables for us? They look wonderful. Thank you.”
“Yes,” Fern managed. “Ah, just the tea will be fine, dear. Thank you.”
“What brought you over here?” Sardelle asked from the kitchen, selecting a cup for her and pouring some of the spiced orange tea.
“Wedding planning. There’s so much to do and so little time. I’m still not certain why you two decided on such an early date, but I suppose winter is on its way, and nobody wants to freeze while watching the bride and groom be blessed by the priest. Uhm, that dragon won’t be there, will he? I’ve been working on a seating chart, and I just don’t see how it could fit. It wasn’t anticipated.”
“I believe Ridge invited him,” Sardelle said, emphasizing the pronoun slightly, hoping Fern would pick up on it without needing to be corrected. “I don’t believe Phelistoth has accepted the invitation, but if he does come, we’ll ask him to change into his human form.”
“Human form,” Fern mouthed, that stunned and slightly wild look returning to her eyes.
Sardelle walked in with a tray containing tea cups and a sugar bowl. “Yes, you’ve seen him in the house when you’ve visited before, I believe. A young man with silver hair. And the other dragon, Bhrava Saruth, is sometimes here too. He has shaggy blond hair that hangs into his eyes.”
Sardelle had wondered from time to time what Fern thought of their peculiar house guests, but she lived fifteen miles away, so she didn’t come down to visit that often. Especially not unannounced. If she did, Sardelle would have been more careful about what went on in the backyard. And who napped there.
“Dragons are magical beings,” Sardelle explained into the silence. “They’re capable of a variety of things, such as changing shapes.”
Fern’s mouth parted, but she didn’t speak.
Sardelle decided this wasn’t the time to bring up her own magical capabilities. Though she would have liked to. Hiding what she was had made her uncomfortable from the beginning, when Fern had hugged her and welcomed her into her home—and into her family—with such warmth. That had been before she’d known magic existed. And she still didn’t know Sardelle was capable of using it.
Ridge never seemed that worried about her finding out, but Sardelle couldn’t help but fear Fern’s friendliness—and her interest in seeing Sardelle married to her son and the mother of his children—would disappear when she learned the truth. So many Iskandians were terrified by the notion of magic and sorcerers.
But could Sardelle and Ridge truly get married without mentioning that little bit of her background to his mother?
“Tylie will certainly come, as well as Tolemek,” Sardelle said, going on in the hope that Fern would recover from her stunned silence, “so it’s possible Phelistoth will come. He and Tylie are friends, in a manner of speaking. And it’s also possible Bhrava Saruth will come. He and Ridge and I are also friends of a sort.”
Are you not going to admit to being his high priestess? Jaxi asked.
No.
Are you certain you shouldn’t? While divulging other background information? I would find it entertaining to see you explain that.
Fern rubbed her face, then accepted the tea cup Sardelle had been holding out for a long minute. “So, I need to add two to my seating chart?”
“It may be wise.”
Fern cleared her throat and opened a folder, looking like she’d recovered enough to get to business. Sardelle sat on the other upholstered chair even though it would have been more natural to face her from the couch. It wasn’t an uncomfortable couch, just a hideous one, hideous enough that she avoided touching it, except to dust. It was possible that sitting on it would be preferable to sitting across from it, since one wouldn’t be looking at it then… but she couldn’t quite bring herself to do so.
“Have you decided on a venue yet?” Fern asked. “Since you’re determined to do this first-week-of-fall date, something really should have been booked last winter. I’ve already checked, and Seagull Island Estate, the Ivy Gardens, and the Blue Hills Castle are booked for the rest of the year. Even the Officers’ Club in the army fort is booked. I suppose Ridge might have some sway these days to get things moved around for him, but it’s rather unseemly for important people to trample all over the needs of those deemed less important.” She paused and sipped from her cup. “I must confess, it’s strange to think of my little boy as Important People.”
“We’re not interested in trampling anyone,” Sardelle said, relieved that Fern seemed to have recovered from the Phelistoth sighting. Was it possible she would accept magic—and a sorceress for a daughter-in-law—as easily as the existence of dragons? “We were thinking of having it in the yard right here.”
“Here?” Fern’s eyebrows flew up. “Overlooking that swamp?”
She flung her hand in the direction of the pond and Ridge’s converted duck blind. She looked like she would say more, but the idea distressed her so much that she broke into a coughing fit.
“It’s quite lovely for those who enjoy nature,” Sardelle said when she finished. “And the mud has finally dried up.”
Fern’s expression grew horrified as she mouthed, “Mud.”
“You’ve met the ducks. It’s really quite serene out there.”
“Sardelle, I know you mean well, but Ridge is my only child, and I can’t bear the idea of him getting married in a backyard overlooking a swamp. And all those generals and important people that are likely to come—what will they think?”
“I believe most of the people he’s invited have been here before for his barbecues. Why, even Angulus came out to the first one he hosted.”
“The king!” Fern lurched to her feet, almost spilling her tea as she thunked the cup down on a side table. “Will he be coming?”
“I’m not sure, but we did fill out an invitation for him.”
Ridge should have sent it by now, or perhaps delivered it by hand during one of his meetings at the castle. Sardelle would have to check to see if he’d received a response.
“To your swamp? Seven gods.”
“To the lawn adjacent to the pond,” Sardelle murmured. “We believe we could seat about a hundred people if they don’t mind bumping elbows.”
“The grass is brown. And—and dragon covered.”
Sardelle wasn’t sure which of those represented the greater horror. Fern paced back and forth in front of the couch, muttering to herself in distress, her arms jerking about.
And you thought your sorceress status was going to be the main problem today, Jaxi said.
I’m not sure whether to be upset or glad that something else has her distressed. “I believe with a little water siphoned in from the pond, we could get the grass green by the time of the wedding,” Sardelle offered.
Very good, Jaxi said. That will fix all of her objections.
“And I’m sure we can convince Phelistoth to nap elsewhere that day.”
Fern shook her head. “I’ll look around for other venues and let you know what I come up with. Perhaps a winter wedding wouldn’t be so bad. One would need a dress appropriate to the weather though. A lovely white one to match the possible snow. Or perhaps red to stand out from it. Have you gone dress shopping yet? I was going to offer to make you one. But if you prefer a store-bought one, we could go shopping together. But we need to do it soon. Unless you change the date. If it ends up being a winter wedding, we could add a white fur-trimmed cloak around your shoul
ders. The trouble is that you can’t count on snow here. It so often just rains. A rainy wedding wouldn’t appeal to anyone.”
Sardelle imagined Fern convincing Ridge to postpone the wedding until after the Winter Solstice festivities. How far along would her pregnancy be then? Would she show?
Maybe you should distract her from dire thoughts of brown grass, dragons, and swamps by making that announcement, Jaxi said.
I can’t tell her I’m pregnant before I’ve told Ridge.
Why not? She’s looking forward to babies more than he is.
Sardelle grimaced, reminded that Ridge might not be as delighted about her announcement as his mother would be. And even Fern wasn’t a guarantee if she found out about—
“Sardelle,” Tylie blurted, running into the kitchen. “Look, I’m doing two rocks at once.”
Two large smooth stones floated into the living room ahead of Tylie as Fern turned to look at her—and at them. Sardelle gasped and used her own power to flatten the stones to the floor, but it was too late. Fern stumbled back, hit the couch with the backs of her knees, and pitched onto it, her hand to her chest. She had seen.
Tylie tilted her head in confusion. “Why did you force them down, Sardelle?” She pointed at the rocks. “I thought you’d be pleased with my progress.”
“I’m very pleased, but—” Sardelle, staring at the shocked expression on Fern’s face, didn’t know what to say. Had nobody ever told Tylie that Fern didn’t believe in magic and would be shocked to see it in use? Sardelle could have sworn she’d mentioned that at least once.
“What is going on in this house?” Fern cried, her voice almost a shriek. A shriek of panic more than one of outrage.
Sardelle drew upon her power to send soothing energy toward Fern, the way she would to settle a spooked horse.
It didn’t work. Fern bolted upright, glancing in all directions, as if to look for the most direct exit. The most direct escape.
“I’m practicing my magic studies,” Tylie said. “We do that in the mornings. Sardelle teaches me.”
Oaths (Dragon Blood, Book 8) Page 4
