Chapter 6
Once more disliking that she looked down upon him when he was a more comparable size to a human, Kier quickly reverted to his full, glorious height and mass once they exited his healing room.
Like before, the little witch gave a mocking snort, as if sensing his disquiet over it, but wisely kept her mouth shut.
He took her deeper within his lair, the path a spiral to make room for other dragons who made this mountain their home.
Pride filled him at her overly curious glances into his many alcoves, each one neatly organised by varying degrees.
If something was soft, it was bundled in his room of textiles.
All the hand-carved pieces of ornate furniture he liked, and therefore stole from humans, were placed together.
He was fond of the alcove containing weapons and armour from humans he’d killed and eaten, as many of them had etched designs in the breastplates or gems in the handles.
She’d hummed at his small trove of coins, gems, and treasure, and he was unsure if she thought it unimpressive, or if she was greedy enough to take a piece.
He was a trickster at heart, so it was merely a decoy for potential thieves. He wasn’t foolish enough to keep his valuable treasures so close to the entrance of his cave.
Kier was also a collector, of sorts. He collected in threes or more, seeking to fill a space with assorted items. Technically, his entire lair was his hoard, just broken up into different alcoves and spaces due to his preference of organisation.
There was even a collection of grand marble statues – and he was sure the humans had wondered how they’d suddenly upped and disappeared one night.
The rumour that all the dragons had died off would have left them scratching their heads, wondering how a band of thieves had managed to abscond with them.
It often made him smile maliciously at the thought.
At his side, the brunette female shivered the deeper they went, then hugged herself.
I didn’t think to grab her cloak. Nor her sleeping apparatus when he took her.
Did he care if she was cold? He was unsure.
Dragons were heated from within, but when he did get cold, he had an alcove of coal that he lit to lie on. It was often how he slept.
He sighed when he thought, If she’s uncomfortable, her mind will fixate on it rather than healing my sister. This was the only reason he’d seek to bring her something to warm herself.
They’d already passed the area filled with clothing, much of it masculine. He’d return to it later to dig for something for her.
Flames danced around him and the witch, jumping ahead from torch to torch, highlighting the variety of stones that made up his cave – some brown, others sandy, but most were grey – depending on which sediments had settled where.
The spell he used to make the flames precede his movement was rather handy for lighting the way, and it reduced the amount of fat and cloth required to keep the torches lit by not constantly having something burning when the area was vacant of his presence.
It also mitigated the potential for a fire to break out – not that he minded the flames, only the loss of what might burn.
Finally, he stopped her outside one of his most prized alcoves.
It was also one of the largest. Inside were thousands of books, each at a different level of decay, simply because many were hundreds of years old when he’d obtained them.
A vertical cabinet had triangle shapes to store various scrolls in one column, while the wall itself had a shelf carved into it to store stone tablets, many of which were intact, although a few had broken over time.
There were also half-filled or empty bookshelves that he’d brought in here with the intention of eventually utilising.
The issue with this alcove, alongside his true treasure room, was that very little of it was organised.
There was just too much here. Books upon books were stored on top of each other, many leaning on the stack next to them for support.
A cluttered pile revealed some had already fallen victim to a collapse, and Kier just hadn’t gotten around to fixing it.
Anything new was placed together to be sorted later, only for a new pile to grow until it, too, collected dust.
The female at his side finally pried her lips apart. “Dear heavens, what a mess,” she murmured, coming to the same realisation he just had.
Dear heavens? That’s only something dragonkind says. How strange.
Since she didn’t know the spell to heal his sister, she would need aid in some form – spellbooks. There were dozens here, maybe even hundreds, all buried. And the answer might be in one of them.
Had he the ability to read their special incantation language, he might have dived into sorting this sooner while he attempted to heal Selene himself. Alas, he could not decipher any of it, even though it was a mutilated version of dragon speak, so he hadn’t come here.
All his dragoncraft tomes were, wisely, stored elsewhere and in a much better organisational state than those written by humans or her kind. He found their words trivial and lacklustre.
She turned to him, then drew her gaze up to his face. “You said you had something for me to begin researching with?”
Kier pointed to the books next to the entryway.
“That is all I managed to find in the time I left you to eat.” Sadly, only two sat there.
He hadn’t even scratched the surface of the stacks and piles.
“See why I wished to leave you so promptly? It will take me some time to gather more while you read those I have already collected.”
Her shoulders deflated as weariness took hold of her expression. “This... this will take weeks to go through on your own.”
“Yes, hence the issue.” He stepped a single paw inside and wiggled his nose at the collection of mould and paper scents. “But they should all be in good condition, as the spell placed in this room stops them from deteriorating.”
“At least that’s something. Maybe it would be better if I assist until I have a larger pile to start with. It won’t take me long to flick through the pages of each spellbook once I have them.”
“Fine. I see no issue with that,” he answered curtly. The idea of having someone to help with this task made it less daunting. “I will leave you to start then.”
Her brows came together before she lifted her arms in annoyance. “Where are you going? We just got here.” Then she tsked as she quietly muttered, “Just like all men. Leave the woman to do the chore.”
Kier didn’t appreciate her exasperated tone or her petulant words. He had no intention of leaving this to her.
He attempted to quieten his growl, but it rumbled from his chest regardless. “I will return right after I have given my sister more food and water. Since you made something she will eat, I’d prefer to give it to her as soon as possible.”
Her lips parted softly as she rasped, “Oh.” Then her cheeks stained with embarrassment, no doubt from her presumptuousness. She averted her gaze while nibbling on her bottom lip. “Yes, it’s best you do that first.”
Kier backed up and spun around, being careful not to whack her with his thick, lengthy tail.
“Wait,” she called out, and he rotated his bendy neck to stare at her past the folded ends of his wings. “Warm it first. That particular meal thickens when it’s cool, and she won’t be able to swallow it. The consistency should be like thin cream.”
Cream? I’ve never eaten such a thing. It sounded like a delicacy for humanoid-formed creatures.
“Also, I noticed she was cold. I’d suggest getting her more blankets.”
He narrowed his eyes at her. He didn’t like the fact that she knew that, which meant she’d been in there longer than he’d realised. Nor did he like that this meant his sister’s health was deteriorating; he hadn’t noticed it when he’d cleaned her earlier.
“Stay here,” he demanded firmly. “Don’t leave this room. As you have learned, I will be upset if you go gallivanting into places I’d much rather you didn’t. I will properly escort you through my lair at a later hour.”
He made his way back up the incline. Yet only a few steps away from her, he heard her grumble, “Gosh, so grumpy.”
Kier paused and regarded her over his scaled shoulders again. “I’m not grumpy.”
The female rolled her eyes, her head with them, and waved him off as she entered the alcove properly. He frowned at the space she’d stood in before leaving.
Sincerely, I am not grumpy.
Well, perhaps he was a little short tempered at the moment, but she had no idea what weighed on him.
At first it was anxiety and the determination to find a solution on his own. When he realised he was failing and losing time due to his own pridefulness, he hunted for witches. He found none, except for the three he’d found sought refuge to escape the storm.
They hadn’t noticed her at first.
They’d only decided to follow her when they had been congregating at the exit and happened to watch her leave on her own. Since she was heading the same way, he overheard them speak of her being easy prey and something they could sell in pieces, clearly unaware of her power.
It was time wasted. She had wasted his time.
I’m also tired from sustaining Selene’s life force with my own. The constant use of his magic to slow down her deterioration was taxing on the body. It wouldn’t last forever – magic could only do so much – but it staved off the worst of her dehydration and malnutrition temporarily.
It was why she hadn’t perished yet.
“Hopefully with this, I can remove that,” he muttered, shrinking his size to enter his cooking area.
He tilted his head at the broth within the pot and sniffed it. It smelt awful, and there were quite a few large chunks of food in it. He figured he only needed the liquid, so he did as instructed and reheated it by touching the sides of the pot and warming it with his magic.