Back then I had pretended it was the back of a huge dragon sleeping in the earth, waiting to wake and snatch unwary travelers. It was a good game, but even then I’d known it couldn’t have been true. My people drove the dragons out of Darmid long before I was born. Sometimes I still wished I could see one, just once. It was so easy to imagine a sleek, green form slithering between the trees in that forest, especially on foggy days.
You should ask Callum if he’ll take you to Tyrea to see a dragon, I thought, and smiled. That might have been enough to get rid of him forever, if I’d wanted to. A respectable person would never be interested in such things.
I was lost in those thoughts when a crashing noise in the trees above us made me jump in my seat and let out a small scream. Jigger froze, ears forward and muscles quivering visibly under his shaggy coat. I understood perfectly how he felt—my own heart pounded, and I felt like I might throw up the sandwich I’d stopped to eat earlier. I scanned the trees overhead, and noticed a small patch of damaged branches over the long rock.
Maybe you called a dragon to yourself. The hairs on the backs of my arms prickled. I dug my knife out of my bag, then slipped down from the cart. It occurred to me that it would probably a better idea to just leave, as Jigger seemed eager to do. But these were my woods, and I’d always been insatiably curious about the things that lived in them. I didn’t think I’d forgive myself if I didn’t at least look.
It was probably nothing, anyway.
My knife looked laughably small, but it made me feel braver than I would have without it. I crept toward the ridge, and winced as the dry leaves crunched under my weight, the small sound amplified in the eerily silent forest. A moment later there came a shuffling noise from the other side of the ridge. It stopped, but something was waiting there, perhaps something more frightened than I was—or perhaps just waiting to attack. I leaned my chest against the cold, moss-spotted rock, breathed deeply, and peered over to the other side.
“SKREEEE!”
A high-pitched shriek pierced my brain in the spot beside my left eye that still ached. I glimpsed a large brown bird tucked beneath a fallen pine before I ducked back behind my own side of the ridge.
Not a dragon, then. I almost laughed at my wild imagination. Just an eagle, though not quite like the white-headed ones we usually saw near the water. I sheathed and pocketed my knife.
When I looked again, the eagle was waiting for me. It had backed as far as it could under the dead tree, but hanging branches blocked most of the space and prevented retreat. One wing lay outstretched at an awkward angle over the leaf-littered ground, displaying slick, wet feathers.
I’d never liked leaving an animal to suffer, but this one looked decidedly uninterested in any help from me. It held its yellow and black beak open, ready to strike, and glared at me from beneath the golden feathers that shadowed its eyes. I climbed over the rock, then crouched and made myself as small and non-threatening as possible.
The eagle wasn’t fooled. It hissed and fluffed its feathers, apparently putting as much effort into looking intimidating as I was into doing the opposite.
“Shh, you don’t have to do that,” I said in my softest voice. I knew I sounded foolish, but kept talking. I glanced at the bird’s long talons and hooked beak. “You’re plenty intimidating as it is, my friend.”
I had no idea what to do next. I wondered what Matthew, my uncle’s hired man, would do. He’d let it die, I decided, and he would be right to do it. Having an eagle around wouldn’t be good for the chickens and the sheep.
But I couldn’t just leave.
“You’re hurt,” I told the eagle, and looked away from its fierce gaze. “It’s going to get very cold tonight, and if I don’t take you with me, you’re going to die here. I don’t want to hurt you.” I shifted my weight closer to the bird. It pulled back a little, but didn’t screech or hiss.
When I risked another look, it had laid its head in the dirt and closed its eyes—I suspected more from weakness than from my kind words. My jacket was off a few seconds later, covering the bird’s eyes and body. It didn’t object.
The eagle wasn’t particularly heavy, but its massive wings made it awkward to carry. I was careful to keep a strong grip on its talons and to make sure all of the sharp bits pointed away from my body, but still spent the walk back to the cart half-expecting to get my innards clawed out. Jigger laid his ears back against his head and scraped a fore-hoof against the hard dirt. He only settled when he could no longer see me carrying that odd bundle.
I placed it in the back of the cart and took a closer look at the wing, careful to leave the eagle’s eyes covered as I’d read about people doing with hunting falcons. Blood oozed from its wing and was already staining my jacket. I sighed and took two blankets—one to cover the back of the cart, and one to wrap around my shoulders. I left the jacket where it was.
Jigger had found his usual plodding rhythm again when the thud of faster hoof beats came from ahead of us, the horses and riders still invisible around a bend in the road.
I shivered, remembering what Ashe had said about the world being dangerous, and realized how foolish it had been to stop. You could have been off the main road by now, I told myself. Idiot. I reached for my knife, unsheathed it again, and tucked it between my thigh and the seat of the cart.
I didn’t look up when the hoof beats grew louder, but watched from beneath the hanging curtain of my hair, hoping that if I didn’t draw attention to myself the riders would pass without stopping. A pair of horses and riders approached, silhouetted by the lingering sunlight in the west, and they slowed as they came closer. Low voices spoke for a moment. One rider came closer.
Calm down, I told my pounding heart. We’re not doing anything wrong. Still, I reached for my knife.
“Stop, please,” he called. “Excuse me, Miss? I—Rowan?”
I looked up to see Callum’s familiar face, and he grinned as I lifted my gaze to meet his blue eyes. I breathed a sigh of relief at finding a friend with me. He looked like he’d been on his horse all day and hadn’t shaved for longer. His light brown hair was a mess and his clothing dirty, but he still looked good. Better than I remembered, actually.
“Hello, Callum. I wasn’t expecting to see you out here.” I signaled for Jigger to stop, and Callum brought his big black horse up next to the cart, leaving his companion to continue toward the stone ridge behind me.
“I wasn’t expecting to be here, myself,” Callum said. “Are you all right? You seem flustered.”
I slowed my breathing and reached up to smooth my hair. “I’m fine. Ashe had me concerned about the sort of people I might meet on the road, so when I heard you coming…” I shrugged, then forced a little laugh. “Silly, right?”
More hoof beats approached, this time from behind us, and four rough-looking riders came into view. They slowed to a walk as they passed, each of them giving us a careful look. They wore full beards and dressed in coarse, dark clothing. The one in the lead gave me a lewd wink and sneered at Callum, but none of them stopped or spoke.
Callum watched until they’d disappeared down the road. “He wasn’t wrong,” he said. “We need as many men as we can get out here, but I don’t trust most of them.” He grimaced and rubbed his forehead. “And they’re not nearly the worst of it.”
“Well, I’m very happy to see you, then. What brings you out this way?” I tried to sound pleasant in spite of the nervousness that gnawed at my stomach. Unless the eagle was dead, it would make noise soon. I didn’t want to have to explain that one. Still, leaving would be rude. In spite of my reluctance to accept his proposal, I couldn’t afford to push Callum away.
“Oh, sort of a hunting trip,” he said. I raised an eyebrow, and he laughed. “Official business, though, I promise—nobody’s taking time off these days. Actually, you might be able to help. Did you see anything unusual here when you were coming up the road?”
You might say that. The anxious fluttering moved up into my chest. “What, righ
t here? I don’t think so. What are you looking for?” Please don’t say a bird.
“Probably a large bird.” Damn it. “Farmers in this area have been complaining that something is attacking their livestock, and we spotted an eagle a few minutes ago. My father shot it, but it flew on, and we can’t find where it fell.”
“Your father?” I twisted around in my seat. My day was going from bad to worse in a hurry. Sir Dorset Langley was renowned for his skill as a hunter and his cleverness as adviser to the king, but nothing I’d heard about the man had made me eager to meet him.
He rode back toward us, tall and straight-backed on a muscular gray horse that nipped at Callum’s mount. “Father,” Callum began, “This is Rowan, who I’ve been—”
Callum’s father held up a hand to stop him. “I remember. What’s in the cart?” Steel-gray eyebrows knit together over intelligent eyes that looked just like Callum’s.
“I… nothing,” I stammered. “I mean, I’m taking supplies to my aunt and uncle. Sir.”
“Hmm.” His gaze passed over the blanket-covered cart. “You didn’t see anything?”
“Oh, no. Nothing like that, at least.” I knew that I should hand the bird over to be killed. It was absolutely the right thing to do if it was causing problems. But I remembered the eagle laying its beautiful head in the leaves and dirt, and I couldn’t let them hurt it. I didn’t like the cold expression on Dorset Langley’s face, and though his presence commanded respect, I didn’t feel inclined to help him. I scrambled for words that sounded natural, and hoped he couldn’t see the nervous sweat that I felt on my face. “I’m sorry I can’t be more helpful.”
“Open the cart.”
“Excuse me?”
“Standard procedure.”
I looked to Callum, who wore an expression of shock on his face. He leaned closer to his father and spoke quietly. “I hardly think this is the best way for you to introduce yourself to someone who might soon be family.”
Dorset Langley looked me over from head to toe and back again, narrowing his eyes at my face.
I held his gaze as calmly and as openly as I could. I have nothing to hide.
“Perhaps a girl who wants to marry a magic hunter should be willing to aid us in any way we request.”
“No.” Callum nudged his horse to move between his father and the cart. “If it’s gone, it’s gone. We’re wasting time questioning Rowan, and you’re frightening her.”
He arched an eyebrow. “Am I, now? My apologies, young lady. We’ve had a long week, and I’m not quite myself.”
I thought this was probably exactly how he usually treated people he considered beneath him. His words sounded sincere, but that piercing gaze never left me. “That’s fine,” I told him. “Maybe we’ll just start over next time?”
He just lowered his head in a sort of bow, then turned to ride back to the ridge. I looked at Callum, who was still frowning after his father. Prince Charming himself, I thought. Chasing off the ogre to save his fair lady.
“Well, I should get on,” I said. “It was lovely to see you. I suppose we should talk more some time when you’re not so busy.” I urged Jigger on, down the road and away from Dorset Langley, but Callum kept pace beside us.
“Did you receive my letter?”
“I did. I passed it on to my mother to look at. I hope that’s all right.” At least it wasn’t a complete lie.
“Oh, of course. I’m glad you’re… yes, very good.” He smiled, obviously pleased with the acceptance he anticipated. “Would you like an escort?”
I stretched my smile until I thought my cheeks would crack. “Oh, I’d like that, but I think your father is waiting for you. The turn-off is just ahead, I’ll be fine.” I wasn’t sure what else to say. “Will you be in Lowdell any time soon? I should be home next week, if you’d like to come by.”
“I don’t know. Things are busy for us right now. But thank you. I’d like to talk to you about—”
“Callum!” his father called.
Callum sighed. “I should get back to it. Yell if you run into trouble. We won’t be far.”
I thanked him again, and my stomach clenched as I watched him ride away. Such a gentleman, so kind and so strong. But my chest still tightened when I thought of talking to him about his letter.
When I looked back one last time, Dorset Langley was pointing toward the broken branches overhead. I urged Jigger to move faster and get us away before Callum or his father could change their minds about letting me go.
Chapter V
Rowan
THE SUN DISAPPEARED AS WE journeyed on, leaving the sky pink and purple overhead. The cart rocked and bumped over the uneven surface of the narrow road until the slate roof of Stone Ridge came into view over a low hill, followed by a crumbling rock wall and the heavy iron gates that had stood open for as long as I could remember. Jigger lifted his head. His ears pricked up and he threw his weight forward, perhaps recalling that the hospitality here was better than at home. I hoped there would be supper waiting for me, too.
As we started down the other side of the slope, a slowly spreading warmth flowed through my muscles, erasing the tension that my meeting with Dorset Langley brought on. Though I’d been living with my parents for years, it was only when I returned to Stone Ridge that I felt like I was home. Stone Ridge meant love, family, and above all, freedom that I could never enjoy in the city.
I laughed when a scrawny, long-haired black mutt jumped into the road and gave a half-hearted snarl.
“Good evening, Micah,” I said. The dog waved his curved tail and trotted alongside the cart as we passed between the gates and into the huge yard. Grass grew between the stones beneath us and weeds sprouted beside the roadway, but it was easy to imagine how beautiful the grounds must have been when the big house was new and filled with family and servants.
“Micah!” yelled a gruff voice from inside the carriage house. “Some guard dog you are!” My uncle’s hired man Matthew came out and leaned against the doorway. The dog ran to him and lay on its belly, grinning. Matthew shook his head and ran his fingers through his thick, silver hair as he walked toward me, dog at his heel. He swung himself up into the still-moving cart and settled onto the seat beside me. The long hairs of his unkempt mustache twitched as he sighed. “I swear if anyone ever decided to rob the house, that mongrel would lead them straight to the good silver.”
“At least he tried. You can’t blame him, really. He knows he can count on me for a belly rub.”
Matthew chuckled, then turned to me and scowled. “You should have told us you were coming. I’d have met you half way.”
“I’m fine, Matthew. You worry too much.”
“I don’t worry. Just good to know what’s what, that’s all.” He covered his smile with a work-roughened hand. He’d never admit to worrying, but Matthew had always cared for me like I was his own daughter. He and his wife Della had as much of a hand in raising me as my aunt and uncle did during my years at Stone Ridge. The hours he and I spent fishing at the river were among my most cherished memories, and he’d held me when I cried after I killed my first hen.
I may have had an unusual childhood, but it was a happy one.
“Is everyone else inside?” I asked.
“Your uncle is off to Ardare to advise on something at the university. He’s been gone a lot these past few months. Della’s inside seeing to Victoria. I don’t say your aunt will be up for seeing you tonight. Hasn’t been well.” Exhaustion crept into his voice as he spoke. The house and grounds were too much for him and Della to care for on their own, but uncle Ches couldn’t afford more help. “You want some help unloading, there?”
I almost said yes out of habit, but stopped myself. “Actually, would you mind taking Jigger after we get the cart to the house? He seemed to be favoring his right fore a ways back. Maybe you could give him his supper and take a look.” I hated lying to Matthew, but I couldn’t explain the eagle to him. Over the years he’d helped me bandage and care for inj
ured rabbits, cats, and a saucy young crow, but I felt certain he’d draw the line at anything that might be a danger to the livestock or to me. Matthew was compassionate and talented with animals, but more than anything, he was a practical man.
He watched the horse, squinting in the fading light as we approached the stone walled house. “Seems fine, but if you can take care of the rest yourself, I’d be glad to.” He jumped down as the cart rolled to a stop and removed the traces from Jigger. “I keep forgetting you’re all grown up now.”
Jigger seemed reluctant to leave, and kept looking at the cart, ears laid back. Matthew clucked his tongue and hummed a soft, lilting tune, and Jigger went with him. I waited until they were out of sight around the house before I pulled back the blanket that covered the cart.
Nothing had moved, not even the eagle. The bird lay still under my jacket. It didn’t move even when I pulled the covering away and the cool evening air ruffled its feathers.
A lump formed in my throat. It shouldn’t have mattered, but I had looked forward to caring for the beautiful creature. It would have been a far more interesting problem than the ones I’d tried to leave at home.
“I’m sorry,” I whispered, and a dark eye opened. “Oh—I thought you’d gone.”
The eye closed again. The golden feathers on the bird’s neck seemed to glow in the light from the lamp outside the kitchen, and I reached out and gently ran my fingers over them. A shock pricked my fingers, and I pulled my hand back. The bird must have felt it, too. It opened its eyes again and tried to lift its head. I pulled the blanket back over the cart and hurried into the house. The heartleaf was wearing off, and I was anxious to get my work done.
There was no one in the big kitchen, but pots rested on the iron stove and the savory smell of supper set my stomach rumbling. “Hello?” I called, and set my bag down on the wooden table in the center of the room. “Della, are you here?”
Matthew’s wife leaned her head out of the pantry door on the far wall. White streaks of flour marked her cheeks, and her brown hair was piled into a messy bun on top of her head.
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