Chapter 50 #3
The pins he had wrenched from his mouth to confront Sir Beauregard were melted.
What the—?
Sir Beauregard slapped the hair from his eyes and smeared the water from his face.
His sodden trousers squelched as he spun about on his knees to look at Bradley.
Jax and Duncan turned, too, and they discovered the dragon’s valet sitting on his stool and calmly snipping the thread off the mended sleeve.
“Archmaster,” Duncan whispered.
Bradley didn’t look up, feigning nonchalance. “And what did we learn?”
“S-Sorry,” Sir Beauregard gasped.
Jax whacked him in the shoulder.
“Sir. Sorry, sir.”
Bradley finally deigned to look at them. “You three will finish all preparations before lunch, is that quite clear?”
“Yes, sir,” the three answered quickly.
“Henri, another tune, if you please.”
“That’s Prince Henri,” the frog grumbled. “And I don’t dabble with tunes.” Nevertheless, he began to sing.
“I’ll be back with the lemonade.”
Bradley set his mending aside and slipped out into the stairwell. Heaved a gigantic breath.
Dirk swirled out of the nearby shadows, grinning.
“What are you doing here?” Bradley whispered. “Why aren’t you with Sir Roger?”
“I heard raised voices—”
“Did the princess hear?”
“Of course not, idiot. She doesn’t have the superior hearing of a luck dragon. Anyway, I followed them up here.” Dirk pointed a white claw at the door. “What have you been doing behind our backs?”
“Never mind that. Look at this!” Bradley opened his palm to reveal the conglomerate of melted pins.
Dirk flew close and gave it a sniff. “Did you do that?”
“I-I think I did.”
“What do you mean you ‘think?’ What spell did you say?”
“I didn’t.”
“Maybe this is it, Bradley!” The Mini Red corkscrewed through the air, scales shimmering with white light. “Maybe this is your curse finally beginning to break.”
Bradley shoved a hand through his hair, pacing. His thoughts fluttered between the princess’s miraculous healing and the melted pins. Were the two even related? “How can that be? I still can’t speak High Aetherial without stuttering.”
And Duncan had called him an archmaster, which was so impossible, it was laughable.
Archmasters could harness the magic inside them without conduit or amplifier.
Even Master Excelsior was only a grand master, and he was the most brilliant sorcerer Bradley knew.
Even if he did (possibly) dabble in the dark arts.
“I don’t know.” Dirk’s mane flattened under his illusion. “I’m just a baby, remember? We’re wise but we’re not born knowing all the secret truths of the universe, you know.”
The apprentice stopped, heart hammering. “I want to be excited, but without knowing how . . . I think this was just a fluke. I have wild magic, after all.”
“Well maybe it’s leaking around the curse! We’ll take a look at the books tonight, okay?”
Leaking? Was such a thing possible? He had to hope it was. Leaks meant there were cracks, and cracks could be busted apart.
Bradley returned the Mini Red’s smile. “I’d like that.”
“Now why do you have melted sewing pins, anyway? Does it have something to do with what’s beyond that door?” Dirk nosed forward, searching out a hole in the door or a crack in the mortar through which to peek inside.
Bradley gave the Mini Red a playful shove. “It’s nothing. I’m getting the tula out of my hair, is all. And the work is occupying the men.”
“If that’s ‘all,’ then why are you keeping it a secret?”
“I’m not!”
Dirk flicked him with his tail. “You didn’t tell me, and I’m your best friend.”
“When would I have found the time to tell you?”
The Mini Red’s ruby scales darkened to crimson.
“I know you have to hide when you’re not in your Great Red camouflage,” Bradley said quickly, “but you’re skipping breakfast and you disappear right after dinner. We don’t . . . hang out anymore.”
“I’m a little busy keeping the Heroes away from my princess, Bradley.”
“Not for the last seven days.” No one had challenged him since the Hero on the white destrier.
“Maybe I’m practicing!”
The apprentice held up a hand. “I don’t want to fight, Dirk. I guess I’m trying to say two things. Thanks, for the help in there, and, more importantly, you look good. Better than I’ve seen in a while, actually.”
Dirk itched the scales under his mane, caught himself, and tucked his thumbs into his satchel strap. “Um, thanks. I was feeling a little sick there, but not so much anymore.”
“Maybe you need to air out your room.”
The baby dragon hummed, considering. “Maybe.”
“Maybe move that warhammer into the workroom, too.”
His yellow eyes slitted. “What? That warhammer is mine.”
“It’s an enchanted object, Dirk. It would be safer within the wards of the workroom.”
“Are you saying I’m not capable of taking care of my stuff?”
“No! But a warhammer that likes blood sacrifices and glows green when it doesn’t possess any nature essences? I’m just saying let’s be careful.”
“I am careful.” Dirk poked the apprentice in the chest with a claw. Hard.
“Ow! Dirk—”
“Stay out my room!”
Bradley’s spirits dropped as the Mini Red flew away. So much for their study date tonight.