Chapter 31
“D id you have a good time last night, Honey?” Flora asked innocently over breakfast.
Honey regretted having just taken a mouthful of toast. She strangled a cough as crumbs went down the wrong way.
“Er, yes,” she said thickly. She grabbed for her coffee. “Very nice, thank you.”
“What about you, Buck?” Estelle wasn’t even attempting to hide her smirk. “Did you meet up with Honey?”
Buck took an unhurried sip of his own drink. “Yep.”
Archie shot the other kids a knowing look. “Soooooo… what did you guys do together?”
Buck didn’t so much as bat an eyelid. “Frolicked.”
Honey, still trying to clear her throat, choked on her coffee.
“Really?” Flora looked like she was having a hard time imagining a frolicking Buck. “That doesn’t seem like your kind of thing.”
Buck shrugged. “Never met the right person to frolic with before.”
Estelle squinted at him. “So you’re telling us you just… frolicked?”
“All night long.” Buck was perfectly poker faced. “Frolicked until we were all frolicked out. We frolicked hard .”
Honey kicked him under the table.
“I told you so,” Archie muttered out of the corner of his mouth to the other kids. “They definitely—”
“Frolicked,” Finley interrupted loudly. “A lot.”
Beth shot the other kids a drop it right now death glare. “Where’s Ignatius, Buck? Isn’t he joining us for breakfast?”
“He’s not feeling well,” Buck replied. “Didn’t get much sleep last night.”
“Sounds like he wasn’t the only one,” Estelle said in a stage-whisper to the other girls.
“I think Ignatius will need to rest today, Buck,” Honey said, ignoring the giggles rising from the other end of the table. “Why don’t you take the other kids out for the morning hike? I’ll stay in camp with Ignatius.”
“Hmm.” Buck sipped his coffee, regarding her over the rim of the mug. “I’ve got a better idea.”
Honey kicked him again, harder.
His mouth quirked. “Not that kind of idea. Kids, you promise not to give Honey any trouble if she takes you out into the woods on her own?”
Honey blinked at him as the kids all chorused solemn promises to be on their best behavior.
“Buck, what are you up to?” she muttered.
“Just taking your advice.” Buck drained his mug, setting it down. “I think it’s time me and Ignatius had a little chat.”
* * *
A dragon is never surprised, his uncle was fond of telling him. No matter what happens, a dragon always maintains his dignity. Never let anyone catch you unprepared.
Ignatius had thought he was prepared for this conversation. He’d spent a lot of time working out strategies to cover every possibility.
These had not included Buck turning up at his door with an ax.
“Let’s go, kid.” Buck jerked his head as Ignatius stared up, tongue-tied, at the huge steel blade. “Time for a private lesson.”
Without waiting for a reply, he strode off. Ignatius briefly considered using this opportunity to bolt back into his room, but a dragon never retreated from danger. Besides, he had no doubt that Buck wouldn’t hesitate to chop his way through the door. Or the wall.
Buck led the way, not looking back. Ignatius had no choice but to follow. He couldn’t help but notice that they were heading deep into the woods, and not down one of the familiar hiking trails.
This did not seem like a good omen.
“I know what you’re doing,” he said, trying to project more confidence than he felt. “You’re not going to use that thing. You’re just trying to intimidate me.”
Buck grunted, shifting the broad, double-bladed weapon to his other shoulder. “You think I’d carry unnecessary weight on a hike?”
Ignatius swallowed. He rubbed his thumb against his signet ring—the ring his uncle had given him, that marked his status as heir to the clan—trying to draw comfort from the smooth gold.
A dragon never shows fear, he reminded himself. And anyway, he’s not actually going to chop my head off.
He’d only broken a few stupid rules, after all. Sure, he’d snuck out of the dorm after curfew. And left the camp grounds without permission, and apparently trespassed into the territory held by a very grumpy unicorn. And okay, he had tried to spy on… Buck’s… mate…
… I don’t think he’s going to chop my head off.
“Here we go,” Buck said as they emerged into a small clearing. He nodded at a big stump in the center. “You see that?”
Ignatius did see it. In fact, he was finding it hard to look away. If a small person—a nine-year-old boy, for example—kneeled in front of the stump, the broad, flat top would be the perfect height for them to rest their head. Briefly.
“I’m sorry!” he squeaked. “I’ll never do it again!”
“Glad to hear it.” Buck shoved something into his hand. “Now put these on.”
Ignatius looked down.
He was pretty sure most executioners did not insist their victims wore safety glasses.
“Uh…” he said. “Why?”
“To cover my ass.” Buck put on his own pair of safety glasses, then headed across the clearing, where a fallen tree trunk had been sawn into neat sections.
“You take a wood chip to the eye, Zeph will roast me over the coals. Or just offer me on a stick to your uncle like a motherloving marshmallow. Put them on and get over here.”
Ignatius fumbled with the glasses, shoving them onto his face. “What are we doing?”
“Settling things like men.” He tipped a section of trunk up onto its side.
“At least, that’s what we’re going to tell Ragvald, if he asks.
Man was so delighted that someone finally wanted to borrow one of his motherloving axes, I didn’t have the heart to explain the real reason. Give me a hand with this.”
Ignatius was too relieved to object. He helped Buck roll the log across the clearing and wrestle it up onto the stump.
Hefting the ax, Buck jerked his chin at him. “Stand back.”
With a mighty swing, Buck drove the ax down. The trunk split into two sections, perfectly halved.
“Huh.” Buck turned the ax blade, his eyebrows rising. “Remind me never to get into an argument with Ragvald. This thing is damn sharp. Grab one of those pieces and set it up again for me. We need to break them down a lot more than that if they’re going to be any use as firewood.”
Ignatius struggled to get one of the heavy sections back onto the stump. “And why, exactly, are we chopping firewood?”
“In case you hadn’t noticed, we have campfires every damn night, kid.” Buck raised the ax again. “Where did you think the logs came from? Motherloving Amazon?”
Ignatius stood back as the blade thokked through the log. “No, I mean, why are we chopping firewood? Because somehow I don’t think you really need my help here.”
“Smart boy.” Buck shouldered the ax, waiting for him to gather up the split pieces and set them out again. “Thought we could take this opportunity to chat about why you pulled that stunt last night.”
The log slipped in Ignatius’s sweating palms. He grabbed it before it could fall, trying not to let anything show in his face.
He doesn’t know. He can’t know.
He swallowed, forcing a normal tone. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Buck shot him a look over the ax. “How about this. I don’t treat you like a spoiled little brat, and you don’t treat me like an idiot.”
The best defense is swift, brutal attack. He remembered his uncle’s lessons in tactics, for physical battles and other, more subtle forms of warfare. Crush your enemy before he can become a threat. Find his weak spot, and strike without mercy.
“Why don’t we talk about your secret?” he spat, doing his best to emulate his uncle’s alpha voice. “Or rather, Honey’s. I heard you two talking, when you thought no one was around. You’re covering something up, and it’s got nothing to do with you being mates.”
He braced himself for the inevitable snarl of rage—but to his surprise, it didn’t come. Buck just nodded slowly, like he’d just confirmed a suspicion.
“Should have figured out it was you, that night at the ropes course.” Finishing splitting the last piece, he casually drove the ax blade into the stump, letting go of the handle.
“In my defense, I had other things on my mind at the time. So that’s why you suddenly got so interested in her.
That’s small enough now. Let’s stack these up. ”
Ignatius kept a wary distance, not moving. “Is this the part where you threaten me to keep my mouth shut?”
“Nope.” Buck kneeled, gathering up the neatly split lengths of firewood. After a moment, he added, “Thanks.”
Ignatius squinted at him. “For what? Moving a few logs?”
“That too.” Buck piled the wood into a neat bundle.
“You did me a favor, kid. Accidentally, and in the most ass-backward way possible, but still a favor. I’m not going to get into details, because I would rather French kiss Ragvald’s entire ax collection, but let’s just say I owe you one. So I’m going to offer you a deal.”
That was more like it. Behind all the inexplicable theatrics, Buck was just trying to negotiate without losing face. Ignatius relaxed a little, back on solid ground.
He raised his chin, adopting a dominant posture, like his uncle had taught him. “What kind of deal?”
“You get to pick.” Buck sat back on his heels, arms loose and relaxed. “Here’s option one. We go back to camp. I haul your sorry ass in front of Zeph and explain exactly where I found you this morning. He calls your uncle, and all hell breaks loose.”
It took all his willpower to hold his position. “For a so-called deal, this is sounding awfully like a threat.”
“You’re not thinking it through, kid.” Buck held his gaze, eyes dark and unreadable. “When your uncle sent you here, he signed a contract. I spent some quality time this morning reading all the fine print with Conleth. You break the code of conduct, the camp can kick you out. Did you know that?”
He hadn’t. He shook his head, heart abruptly thumping against his ribs.
Buck grunted. “Figured you didn’t, otherwise you would have tried something like this weeks ago. It’s right there in black and white. Your uncle can rage all he likes, but there’s not a damn thing he can do to force us to keep you. Investment or no investment.”
His uncle would be furious. Beyond furious. Not with him, of course. He would never raise his voice to his heir. He would just be disappointed . The thought had Ignatius’s stomach twisting into knots.
But… he was used to being a disappointment.
Buck nodded, as though reading his racing thoughts.
“You go home. Your uncle pitches a fit, but you’re a cunning little weasel, and I’m damn sure you’re used to handling him.
You spend the rest of the summer doing whatever it is you like to do.
I breathe a sigh of relief that you’re out of my hair.
The rest of the pack probably throws a motherloving party to celebrate your departure.
Everyone’s a winner. That’s the option you shouldn’t take. ”
“What?” Ignatius stared at him, jolted out of the pleasant vision. “Why not?”
“Because it’s the easy route, and the wrong one,” Buck said calmly.
“Here’s option two. You stay at camp. You keep being a smart-mouthed burr on my ass, and I keep making you march up mountains, and we both occasionally daydream about pitching the other one into the lake. Nothing changes. Apart from one thing.”
“You mean, I stop trying to figure out what’s going on with you and Honey?” Ignatius frowned at him. “What’s in it for me?”
Buck waved this aside. “I’m not talking about that. Keep chewing it over, if you want. Doesn’t matter in this scenario. Though make no mistake, if I catch you breaking rules again, I’ll launch you over the motherloving horizon.”
“So… what does change, in this oh-so-appealing second option?”
“You.” Buck jabbed a blunt finger into Ignatius’s chest. “You drop the attitude. With everyone else, at least. Me, you can hate all you want. But stop pretending you hate it here.”
Ignatius bristled. “I do hate it here.”
“No, you hate that you were forced to come here,” Buck countered.
“You hate that none of this was your idea. Believe me, I know the feeling. I didn’t want to be here either.
And I clung to my pride so hard that I very nearly let something far more precious slip through my fingers.
I meant it when I said you did me a favor, Ignatius. I’m trying to do the same for you.”
“It’s not the same,” Ignatius muttered. “You don’t understand.”
“No, I don’t,” Buck agreed, to his surprise.
“I don’t have your problems, any more than you have mine.
I can’t teach you to shift, Ignatius. What I can do is make this a place where that doesn’t matter.
Where you don’t have to worry about living up to your uncle, or being the heir to the Golden clan, or whatever the hell has you so scared. ”
“I’m not—”
“Don’t give me that, kid. Nobody’s this defensive unless they’re motherloving terrified, every minute of the day.
” Buck held up a hand. “I don’t know what it is, and I don’t want to know.
It’s your business, not mine. All I’m saying is, it doesn’t matter here.
Spend a summer running around the woods, doing pointless crap.
Toast a marshmallow or two. Learn stuff you will never, ever use out there in the real world, just because you enjoy it.
Hell, you might even consider making a few friends. ”
Ignatius snorted. “Like that’s going to happen. Everyone hates me.”
“Can you blame them?” Buck shrugged. “It’s not too late.
I’ve got a lot more experience in being an ass than you, and somehow I still seem to have ended up with a whole pack of people who care about me, through no virtue of my own.
You want to turn things around, try starting with Finley.
That kid would befriend a rabid wolverine, given half a chance.
Even if it did cost him a couple of limbs. ”
That was true, Ignatius had to admit. “So those are your two options? Go home, or suck it up and stay at camp?”
“Pretty much,” Buck said. He levered himself to his feet, leaning on the ax. “I’m sure you don’t want my advice, but I’m going to force it on you anyway. Put your pride down, Ignatius. Accept the possibility that maybe, just maybe, this is where you need to be.”
Ignatius tried for a sneer. “In the middle of nowhere, splitting firewood?”
“In the middle of nowhere.” Buck handed him another log. “Splitting firewood. With someone who doesn’t want to see you make the same mistake he did. Think about it.”