Chapter 8
Another sneeze cut through the silence, once more disturbing Kier from his internal musings.
He rotated his head until he looked down his own back at the female on the other side of his book hoard. They were of similar size, since it was cumbersome to handle the tomes in his larger mass.
She sniffled, rubbed her nose, and coughed.
Her bloodshot eyes were squinted from irritation, but she merely picked up another book while kneeling and checked its cover.
She placed it into one of the six organised piles surrounding her before grabbing a new book to flick through its pages, since the title was worn.
She grunted and cleared her throat while assessing its contents before placing it into a different pile from the last one.
Just when he thought she was about to sneeze again, her lips parting, it ended with a mighty yawn.
She rubbed an eye with the back of her wrist before pushing it up and over the thin purple scarf tied around her hair.
It, like her white long-sleeved underdress and sleeveless yellow overdress, was covered in book grime.
Even wearing a layer of filth, she was remarkably beautiful. He despised the fact that he noticed, and that her suffering moved him, causing guilt and pity to rise.
Perhaps I should obtain more clothing and a new scarf for her face.
He’d already given her a healing potion that aided with the sneezing and coughing, but it wasn’t doing well to fight the dust when she was regularly immersed in it.
The tickle of it irritated his senses as well, occasionally forcing much louder hacking sounds from him.
They were both suffering, and he was thankful that it was without complaint.
She’d returned a few hours ago after feeding his sister, and he’d tried his best to ignore the words she’d spoken to him, containing a heartfelt apology. Yet, somehow, the silence between them no longer seemed so heavy or strained.
She didn’t cast him any ireful glares like usual, and he didn’t feel the need to send her any either.
Then, for an unknown amount of time, he completely forgot her presence as he worked. They weren’t even halfway through his collection, but they were close. Her assistance was quickening the process.
Her groan brought him back to her. Like he couldn’t help himself, he peeked at her to find her nose scrunched as she flipped through a rather thick book.
“Gosh,” she muttered so quietly he almost didn’t hear her. “Why do you even need a book on all the cheeses in the world?”
I own such a book? he thought, watching her place it in a pile all on its own.
When he returned to look at the stack of books in front of him, he eyed it without fondness.
He was finding many titles he considered boring and lacklustre, and it made him wonder how much was here that he had no use for.
Yet, they were his. His possessions, and they somehow mattered. They enhanced the grandness of his hoard. Not everything that was collected had to be worthwhile; some things were merely dull trophies to make the others sparkle brighter.
She tsked this time as she peered at another. “This is so outdated.” She tossed it into another pile, as if she found it offensive.
What was wrong with that one? he pondered, curiosity itching for him to pick it up so he could discover why it upset her.
The little female groaned as she gave up for the moment, stood, and began carting her small piles into the larger ones set up around the alcove.
This place could fit four – or perhaps even five – of him in his true size.
She crossed quite a distance, slow, sluggish, and grumbling the entire time more than usual.
Kier sighed. “Cease your prattling. It’s distracting.”
“He said, as he huffed, and he puffed, and blew all the books down.” She made a sarcastic face at him before continuing to cart her piles.
When his spiked brows came together, not understanding the reference, the corners of her lips quirked.
“It’s from a nursery rhyme. You have it here, by the way, if you’re interested in reading it. ”
“Nursery rhymes are for children,” he answered back darkly. “I haven’t been one for many centuries.”
Her brows lifted, as if she thought otherwise, and she opened her pesky mouth – likely with some kind of insult. She wisely shut it before licking at the seam of her lips.
“How old are you then?”
“That doesn’t concern you,” he answered dismissively, turning from her and reaching for a book. “If you’re groaning and moaning because you are tired, leave.”
“It’s pretty normal to ask when you’re meeting someone. It’s not like I could do anything with that information.”
Kier licked the inside of his maw in agitation. I guess that’s true.
“I have been alive for two hundred and eighty-three years.”
“Oh! I guess that means you’re only a little older than me.”
“Pardon?” Astounded, he turned to her slightly. “I am centuries older than you.”
The little female put the tips of her index fingers together coyly. “Not in our growth cycles. I’d be considered twenty-five, although I’ve been alive for fifty-three years.”
Kier wanted to expire. “What has provoked your current chattiness?”
He wouldn’t have told her to shut up if he’d known it would have the opposite effect and she’d become incessant with her voice. Her lovely, although currently hoarse, voice. How could a creature sound so beguiling?
Especially when he knew her tone could also be deep and filled with anger. He thought he’d prefer that over her current one, and would rather he didn’t find it pleasant.
“I’m a little bored,” she answered sheepishly, lifting her shoulders. “We’ve been in here for three days.”
“So you wish to annoy me out of boredom? How immature,” he retorted with a sneer.
“He said, as he huffed and he puffed,” she teased, then knelt in her newly empty space to continue sorting.
“Leave,” he demanded, giving her his back. “Go elsewhere then.”
“No. You are still working, so I will as well.”
Is that why she’s remained? He couldn’t help it; he peeked at her once more. The hour must be quite late. Now that he thought about it, she usually would’ve run off by now to sleep. She ate dinner some time ago.
“You should really get some sleep. This task can wait until you have rested.”
She shook her head. “I’ll feel bad if I go to sleep before you. I’ll stay with you until you retire.”
“There’s no need,” he told her.
It’s not like it’d bothered her the days before.
“No, I don’t mind. I’m not all that tired,” she said, before attempting to hide a yawn behind a fist.
Now she was just being an annoying fucking pest on purpose!
He had no desire to sleep, despite the heaviness of his eyelids. Not until he’d gone through every last book and found all the ones that contained witchcraft in them.
What if we don’t find something useful? Worried, he trailed his gaze across all they’d done and all that remained. What if this task was pointless, and he was just wasting time and effort?
“I was wondering,” she started quietly, causing him to roll his eyes. “What will you do if I’m unable to break her curse?”
He frowned at the side of her face. They managed to have the same thought, the same doubts.
“You’ve ensured she will live longer, so I’ll find another witch who can.”
Perhaps he’d even go out in search of the Sorcerer.
The rumour was that Ulric had gone south.
Not into the lands filled with barbaric, war-obsessed humans, but further down into dangerous territory – the witchlands.
A region that had been decimated and taken over by a coven of witches who had decided they wished to have a royal leader.
Someone anointed by Strolguil the Vast, who had dictated their laws and rule before he was destroyed.
If so, if Ulric had gone there, Kier didn’t have a single hope of finding him. The male was likely dead. It was where banished dragons were cruelly sent to die. Only a fool would willingly venture there.
Only someone desperate to escape.
At his answer, the little female’s features had grown ashen, and she lowered her head. She gripped the edges of the book in her hands until her knuckles tightened. Then she took a deep breath and placed it to the side as she bit her bottom lip.
She glanced at him, and there was a hint of something in her expression that he didn’t trust before she shied away. She obviously hadn’t expected him to be looking at her, or to meet his gaze.
She cleared her throat. “I was wondering, what do you eat?”
A sudden change of topic? He slitted his eyes at her in wariness.
“Meat,” he snapped back.
Her head perked up. “Really? But all I’ve seen wouldn’t fill the belly of someone in dragon form.”
“I have some further within my lair,” he lied.
Her lips pursed. “But you haven’t left to hunt since I’ve been here. Wouldn’t it be rotten by now?”
Kier grunted, casting his gaze to the side. “I had some of today’s meal you made,” he admitted, annoyed that she’d forced the truth out of him.
“Really?” She smiled and turned her face to him. “Did you like it?”
Why is she being so talkative? He didn’t miss the silence, though. He... wasn’t all that annoyed like before. Perhaps that nap did me some good. He wasn’t as ill-tempered or as quick to irritate.
Once more, he licked his maw in agitation at that realisation.
“It was better than the first one you made, from what I scented,” he said, refusing to compliment her aloud.
“Oh, well...” Her cheeks flared with pink momentarily. “The first meal was about nutrition. I was worried about how little she’d eaten and didn’t think she’d mind how awful it tasted.” She wrinkled her nose. “Even I hated it. But it was hearty and healthy, and that’s all that mattered.”
He hummed in thought, agreeing with her. He also appreciated the consideration, although the recollection of his harmful actions at the time made his wings tighten.