by Maria Grace
“Does it not seem odd to you that they would persuade people to believe they are a species that is not even native to Britain?” How smug Miss Delves looked.
“But hummingbirds are known here.”
“By prints and pictures and the like. If they were a little more intelligent, I think they would have persuaded non-hearers to think they were simply different sorts of songbirds.” Miss Delves nodded at her sisters.
“I suppose, but if one is observant, they could see that a fairy dragon is different to a bird. While they have a birdlike body, wings, and legs, their tails can be bird-like or more dragon-like, a little like a cockatrice with its serpentine lower half. Their heads are distinctly draconic, and their beaks have sharp teeth. By choosing something exotic to conceal themselves as, they facilitate their persuasions being accepted.”
Miss Elaine’s lip curled back just a mite. It was not an attractive expression on her. “So then they are not very good at persuasions?”
Patience. Mama said she needed to learn patience. She should be grateful for another opportunity. “I am told they are among the most persuasive of dragons—only just a little less than tatzelwurms—but there are limits even for them. It is nearly impossible to persuade someone away from something they are very determined to believe.”
“They are very pretty creatures, though. The ones that live in the woods here are mostly green and blue.” Miss Eva looked over her shoulder toward the garden windows.
“They can also be red and purple. The male who sired this clutch is a very lovely lavender and purple. He is very easy to see when he visits the garden. Unfortunately, that makes it difficult to conceal themselves from predators.”
Miss Eva gasped, wide-eyed. “Predators? They are dragons! Nothing eats dragons.”
“Pray forgive me for disagreeing with you, but that is hardly the case. Large dragons eat smaller dragons in the wild. All sorts of wyrms and cockatrice, even drakes will snack on fairy dragons when they can. Cats and rats, stoats, dogs and foxes, they will all eat them as well.”
“How horrid!” Miss Elaine pressed her hand to her chest.
“Papa says it is necessary to keep the population in check. But I do not like to think about it.” Elizabeth shuddered just a bit. “I imagine that you will need to keep your Friends protected against a very dangerous world.”
Miss Delves caught her lower lip in her teeth. “I had no idea the creature would demand so much from us. Will we need to feed them, too, or do they feed themselves?”
“Bedlow, the baby drake I know, is fed by his Friend, but he is far too young to be able to find his own food just yet. So I imagine at least while they are young, you will need to provide their victuals.”
“What do they eat?” Miss Eva asked.
“They catch bugs, you ninny!” Miss Elaine sneered. “Do you not recall seeing them chasing dragonflies and May beetles?”
“Ewww, how horrid. I do not care what you say, I am not—”
“I have it on good authority that not all of them eat bugs. They are the only dragons known for liking sweets. The pair that provided this clutch is very fond of them. Sometimes, I bring a dish of jam or a saucer of honey to the garden for them. They are very happy for it and sing very sweetly to me when I do it.”
“Jam and honey are much pleasanter than creepy bugs.” Miss Eva settled back in her seat.
“Even if they are of the type that prefers insects, I am told that they can be satisfied with bits of sausage, forced meat, even puddings. Certainly your father will see to the dragons’ comfort as well as your own.”
“Dragons.” Miss Elaine rolled her eyes. “Everything is dragons with Father. Everything.”
“That is the only thing he will talk to us about. Dragons and how important it is to manage the needs of an estate dragon.” Miss Eva’s lip curled as though she were drinking sour milk.
“Have you met your estate dragon yet?” Elizabeth sipped her too-sour lemonade.
Miss Delves shared a knowing look with her sisters. “Hardly. Pembroke is a very crusty, cranky, cantankerous soul, we are told. He likes no one and sees no one but Papa, and him only when it is absolutely necessary. He is a basilisk, you know, and they are the most unfriendly creatures. But it really is not a bad thing. He puts very few demands on any of us, so dragon keeping is hardly a burden at all.”
“Do you not find it disappointing not to be able to meet him and interact, though? Basilisks live even longer than firedrakes. The stories he must have to tell!” Oh, the looks they gave her! As though they thought her daft.
“As if he would lower himself to storytelling to anyone, much less any of us!” Miss Elaine snickered.
Miss Eva peered at her through narrow eyes. “You are a very silly, very peculiar girl, I do say.”
So that was how it was to be. Ah well, it was not too far different from dealing with Mama—except that she could openly talk about dragons. “Perhaps I should confine my conversation to the nature of fairy dragons as your father suggested.”
“They are such pretty colorful little things I should think having one as a Friend would help attract the attention of eligible young dragon keepers.” Miss Delves suddenly appeared interested. “Have you anything else to tell us of them?”
“Pray enough now, it is all so dreadful dull.” Miss Elaine’s eyes opened wide, and she smiled. But somehow it did not look very trustworthy. Odd how it was more difficult to tell with human expressions than dragon ones. “I have a better idea. Let us show you what we mean about Pembroke, and you will think he is as dreadful as we do.”
“I cannot imagine that.”
“Come then, and we will show you.” Miss Elaine beckoned them all out the garden door.
“No, I am not going. I hate that part of the woods, and you cannot make me go.” Miss Eva crossed her arms and stomped.
“Fine, be a baby! Go upstairs to the nursery then. We will go to the woods.” Miss Elaine tossed her head and marched out.
Elizabeth hesitated and bit her lip. Perhaps she should remain behind, too. But she was supposed to teach the girls about fairy dragons. She could not do that if she did not stay with them. And it would be very interesting to see where a basilisk lived, perhaps even catch a glimpse of the creature as well.
Chapter 5
Miss Delves took a path through the flower garden, which was much like the one at Longbourn, but much larger and better maintained. Michaelmas daisies, sunflowers, and coneflowers, some taller than she, swayed in the breeze, perfuming the air with sweetness that attracted bees, birds, butterflies, and the tiniest of dragons.
“This is the sort of place that fairy dragons would like very much. When the chicks are older, I am sure they will enjoy coming out here to feed.”
“Feeding them cannot be so difficult, I am sure. I will take mine out here as soon as it hatches.” Miss Elaine snorted.
“But even in the wild, parents feed the newly-hatched, at least until they can fly.” Elizabeth pushed several drooping stems out of her way.
“Those are the sorts of chores the servants do.” Miss Elaine glared at Elizabeth over her shoulder and walked faster.
Elizabeth ran to keep up. Should she tell Papa these might not be the sort of girls who should keep dragons?
Miss Delves pointed toward the woods that bordered the garden. “There, Pembroke lives in there.”
The woods resembled those that were home to Longbourn’s lair, old hardwoods creating deep shade. These were more dense than what Longbourn preferred, though. Was it because a basilisk tended to be lower to the ground and better able to navigate tighter confines? A wyvern, with his height and substantial wings, seemed like he would require far more space in which to move around.
Miss Elaine grabbed her hand and pulled her ahead of Miss Delves. “You see there, that hill in the distance? You can just make it out. That is the dragon's lair.”
“Is that all? I had expected something rather more imposing for a basilisk. It looks like a very
regular sort of hill that houses a dragon cave. Hardly the sort of place to become worked up about.” Elizabeth shrugged.
The Miss Delveses—or should that have been the Misses Delves or the Misses Delveses?—Jane would probably know—seemed disappointed.
Miss Elaine planted her fists on her hips and cocked her head. “There is a stream that runs through the woods, too. One that has all sorts of water dragons—”
“Wyrms? Or does a small knucker live there? They are said to be very mischievous. Basilisks are quite serious, though. I cannot see the one living so near the lair of the other. Dragons, especially large ones, tend to be very solitary.” At least according to dragon lore, they were.
“You certainly seem to know everything there is to know about dragons.” Miss Delves tossed her head and rolled her eyes. Jane sometimes did that when she found Elizabeth exasperating.
“Certainly not. I have only read a very few of my father’s books on dragons. Though I took a great many notes, I cannot imagine that I remember even half of what I read. There are so many things to learn about dragons.”
Miss Delves slapped her forehead. “I bet you like dragons better than you do boys.”
“Have you ever even thought about a boy?” Miss Elaine leaned very close to her face.
“I have thought about Dragon Keepers.” Why would she even give a thought to anyone else?
“See, I told you. She is some sort of dragon bluestocking.” Miss Elaine sniffed at her sister then turned back to Elizabeth. “Such an odd little thing. I do not know if I like you very well at all.”
“I suppose it is good then that we live so far apart. You are in very little way of seeing me after Papa and I go home.” Poor little fairy dragons. Such dreadful girls to be their Friends. “I should like to return to the house now.”
“After we have come this far? Hardly. Come, we are nearly at the stream that runs alongside of the lair.” Miss Delves caught her hand and pulled her along into the dark woods.
The little stream, deep enough for small fish and perhaps a few water wyrms, babbled a greeting to them. Rocky, muddy banks lined each side, damp, but probably not too slippery. Certainly it was not large enough for a knucker to live there, which was just as well as she had read very little about them.
Wyrms, though, she was very comfortable with and welcomed a conversation with them. They could probably tell her a great deal about Pembroke. It would be lovely to hear some firsthand observations of a basilisk.
“Follow the stream. It will lead to the lair.” Miss Elaine gave her a little push. “We are right behind you.”
As it seemed the only way to get them to take her back to the house, she pushed on. Long, slithery wyrm tracks followed the edge of the water on the other side of the stream. Was that a forest wyrm that hunted fish, or a water wyrm looking for a sliver of sunbeam to bask in? She would have to try and remember its shape and sketch it tonight. Then she might be able to compare it to the pictures in the dragon bestiary in Papa’s office.
Overhanging branches screened out most of the sunlight. One might see these woods as dark and imposing, if one were not accustomed to such places. Perhaps that was the Miss Delveses’ problem —they did not come here often enough to understand the beauty of the place. Maybe if she helped them see—
She glanced over her shoulder. Where were they? No, certainly they could not be that horrid. “Miss Elaine? Miss Delves? I do not know the way back! You must take me back to the house!”
Silence. Deep silence. The sort of silence that was not natural for the forest.
“Run, little girl. You do not belong here. You are trespassing on my territory. Run away in terror and never return.” The voice was low and resounding, almost melodious, in a terrifying sort of way. “You are very, very afraid.”
A little chill ran down her spine. He was very good at persuasion to be able to accomplish that. If he treated the Miss Delveses that way, no wonder they were not fond of him.
She turned and locked eyes with a great, shadowy basilisk. There was a reason legends said its gaze would kill. The fabulous animal was utterly terrifying—or at least would be to one who did not expect its presence. Easily twelve feet long, its snake-like body rose up on four lizardly legs. Mottled black and brown, it blended in with the forest floor. The serpentine head bore a yellow-gold crest of spiky feather-scales that resembled nothing so much as a crown, making him very regal, indeed.
The fangs, long enough to be seen even when his mouth was closed, were off-putting. One glittered with what must be a drop of venom. Probably part of his show to scare away trespassers.
But, she knew what most trespassers would not. The Blue Order forbade him from harming humans, unless he was directly threatened. And a young unarmed girl, all alone, was hardly a genuine threat. So, fear was the only weapon he could turn on her. And knowing that, she was hardly afraid.
“Pray forgive my trespass, sir.” She dropped to the ground, pulling her shawl up over her head and extending her arms and legs, making herself as long and low to the ground as possible. It was difficult making her head lower than his.
The ground was damp and smelt musky and pleasant and would probably stain her skirt. But, it was best to follow the book’s advice on greetings, making herself appear as small, harmless, and low as she could before the more powerful beast.
She really did need to finish that cloak. It would be so much easier to cover properly with that.
“You hear?” Pembroke circled her, sniffing her thoroughly.
“I am daughter of Keeper Bennet of Longbourn. We are the invited guests of Sir Rowley,” she muttered into the ground. It seemed a rather silly way to have a conversation, but he might become offended if she rose too soon.
“You bring the fairy dragon eggs for the stupid ones?” He thumped the ground near her with his long, heavy tail.
“You do not like them, either?”
He snorted, ruffling the edge of her shawl. “Intolerable flitterbobs, just like those little fairy fluttertufts. But you seem to have a bit of sense to you. What are you doing here?”
“The Miss Delveses led me here, but they seem to have abandoned me. I do not think I was suitably frightened of the woods for their tastes.”
Pembroke growled. That was a truly frightening sound. Elizabeth huddled under the shawl.
“Rise. You just may be tolerable—for a few moments.”
Though it did not really sound like it, that was actually a great compliment from a basilisk.
Slowly, carefully, she pushed up to her knees, then stood, keeping her eyes down all the while. “I am honored that you should think so.”
“I am Marchog Pembroke. You may address me.” He lifted his head above hers and puffed to make his body larger.
He really did not need to do that. Everything about him was already quite impressive. She curtsied, touching her knee to the damp ground. “You honor me with your acquaintance.”
“Indeed, I do. You intrigue me.” He circled her once again, as though trying to make out what sort of creature she was. “The stupid ones know I am here. We have been introduced, yet they still shriek and shake when they see me. You do not, and yet you are smaller than they. Why?” He poked her with a taloned foot.
Gracious, those claws were remarkably long—he might be able to dig through some of the softer rock found in the hillsides with those. But he was very gentle with them; they tickled just a bit.
“I suppose you already know, Marchog.” She giggled a little. “After all, you call them the stupid ones.”
His yellow eyes widened and stared at her, huffing a sort of laughing sound. “You have no fear—of them, or of me.”
“Pray do not be offended. You are a regal and terrifying creature, to be sure, and none should underestimate your power, or, I should think, your intellect. But I knew to expect you in these woods, so I was not surprised to see you. And I know the Blue Order keeps you from harming me, as long I do not threaten you. Truly, you could hardly co
nsider me any kind of threat.”
“Hardly. I have never met a warm-blood like you.” The corner of his mouth lifted a little like a smile.
“I have read of the great basilisk, but I do not know if everything I have read is true. Would you condescend to tell me more about yourself? I am certain you have seen many wonderful things.”
“You are a very peculiar little thing, to be sure, but interesting. Far more interesting than any I have spoken to in a long time. You are a guest of the house, though, and if you do not return before the sun sets, my woods are likely to be overrun with more trespassers. I will take you to where you can see the house again—and I shall talk to you as we walk.” He nudged her to follow as he slunk past.
It was easy to see how some could view Pembroke as frightening, but he really was a very gracious creature, telling her so many fascinating stories as they walked back. Moreover, he introduced her to Master Delves, older brother to the Miss Delveses, who had gotten as far as the edge of the garden in his quest to look for her.
∞∞∞
The following day, Elizabeth spent no less than an hour wandering the corridors of the manor, trying to find the parlor where the Delves sisters were supposed to meet her. By the time she was able to find a maid who took her there, the sisters declared they had to leave to attend a social call and fled the room. Did they really have a call to pay, or were they embarrassed to face her after what they had done? In either case, how was she to teach them about fairy dragons if they avoided her?
At least their absence had given her an excellent excuse to observe the tatzelwurms in the barn. They were different to the ones that lived in the Longbourn barns. These were gingery-colored and far friendlier. Three young ones—what did one call young tatzelwurms? “Wyrmlings” sounded odd to the ear, but it was a sweet sounding name for very adorable little creatures. Their talons were scratchy—they had not learned to curb them yet. But the delight of having them climbing over her, purring and rubbing their heads under her chin, was worth the scratches she now sported on her arms and legs. Their brood mother seemed to have the same sort of disposition, and a bit more sense than her brood. She sat beside them, encouraging their antics, and telling Elizabeth tales of life on Pembroke that painted Sir Rowley as a kindhearted Keeper.
