Chapter 13
Chapter thirteen
Valenna
“How much further, Mr. Trevelyan?” Valenna called to Evander.
Her plodding land dragon, a big brown creature with a short neck and stubby legs, kept slipping in the grass, and Valenna’s thighs ached from gripping the leather saddle.
Rain pattered on her shoulders, trickles of water tickling her back.
Haldir dragged behind, grumbling and swearing to himself.
Hera had found a spittle crocus growing in the grass and wandered away from the others to investigate.
All three of her heads were bobbing around the teacup-shaped blue flower, taking turns nudging it and then rearing back when it spat drops of water on her noses.
Evander lounged on Hera’s broad shoulders, resting against the base of her necks, his right ankle on his updrawn left knee.
He was squinting through his glasses, reading a novel.
“Mr. Trevelyan,” Valenna called again, trying to sound annoyed. She failed, and smiled at him as he sat oblivious atop the lumbering monstrosity he treated like a pet kitten.
“Trevelyan!” Haldir bellowed. “We’re lost! And it’s your bleeding fault!”
Evander’s eyes flashed as he glanced at Haldir, then back at his book. He and Valenna hadn’t spoken a word to one another the entire trip, and she couldn’t tell if it was because of Haldir’s chafing presence or because Evander simply wasn’t in a chatting mood.
Haldir pulled a metal flask from his pack. He drank it dry, then hurled it at Evander. Evander batted it away with his hand, but Hera shied like a startled mule, and a less apt rider would have fallen. Evander kept his balance.
For the thousandth time, Valenna wondered why he fell that day in Largotia when he hurt his head.
She’d recounted it on countless nights as she lay awake in her bed, missing him.
One second, he was steady in his seat, and the next, he was slamming into the grass.
He said he didn’t remember the fall, but she sensed he was lying.
“It’s over the ridge,” Evander said, sitting upright and spinning around to urge Hera onward.
He didn’t tap her with his heels or use reins; she just seemed to understand, as if by instinct.
He’d always been like that with dragons, and Valenna assumed it was intuition, but he reminded her of someone.
She couldn’t place who. There was a deep memory, buried under a pile of pain somewhere inside her, but when she prodded it, it felt like touching an old scar.
“Watch your mouth, Haldir,” Evander snapped.
Valenna, lost in thought, hadn’t heard what Haldir said. She looked up, bewildered.
“It was a compliment!” Haldir cried, holding up his hands.
“One more compliment from you,” Evander spat, “and you’ll be limping home.”
“If she doesn’t want me to notice, then perhaps she shouldn’t wear trousers. I’m just a man, and I’ve got eyes.”
Evander spun Hera to face Haldir and, as if by command, the dragon Haldir was riding bucked, dumping her rider. Haldir thudded onto the wet grass and let out a string of curses as Evander rode away over the hill. Laughing, Valenna caught up to him, leaving Haldir behind.
They crested a grassy knoll, and a small stone and thatch village spread out beneath them, rising and falling with the land.
“Should we stop?” Valenna asked. “I’m hungry, and we need to ask around and see if anyone has seen the dragon.”
Evander nodded, and Valenna studied him. Was he angry or just lost in thought? Was he about to fall over dead? She determined that, once they found a quiet place away from Haldir, she would corner him and make him talk.
Cold rain stung Valenna’s cheeks as they guided their dragons to the stable behind the tavern.
Evander slid off Hera, unbuckling her three bridles and swinging them over his shoulder.
Hera shook her big, lumbering body like a dog after a bath and followed him into the stable, wandering into a stall where she stomped down the hay and then lay down, curling cat-like on the floor.
“Won’t she wander off?” Valenna asked Evander as he hung up the bridles, then stepped up beside her dragon.
Evander shook his head and reached up to help her dismount.
“Absolutely not,” she said. “You’re not supposed to exert yourself.”
“You’re not what I would call an exertion,” he replied, unmoved.
It was the first words he’d spoken to her since that morning, and she was so thankful to hear his voice that she braced her hands on his shoulders and let him swing her easily down.
She landed neatly on her feet in front of him, then she tilted up her chin and looked into his face.
An impulse to kiss him as she had in their happier days in Largotia prompted her to stand on her tiptoes and brush her lips against his before she caught herself and rocked back on her heels, blushing.
Suddenly, her feet were moving as he pushed her into the stable doorway.
Her shoulders touched wood, and Evander planted his hands on the wall on either side of her head, his forehead almost meeting hers, his eyes—so green, so intense—searching her like she was the first woman he’d ever seen.
She tipped her chin up, wanting to kiss him, needing to kiss him.
But he dropped his gaze and stepped away, leaving her breathless and flushed.
As always, he hovered just out of reach; a will-o’-the-wisp in a bog.
Without another word, he turned and walked into the tavern.
The tavern was dim and smothering. The reek of bacco smoke and rotting wine permeated the wood-paneled walls.
Hidden in some shadowy corner, a musician played a mournful Talwaithan lament on his fiddle.
Valenna remembered hearing the kitchen girls humming it in Sennalaith, but she couldn’t recall the words; something about a sunbird and blood on a willow tree.
Men lined the black lavastone counter, drinking steaming alcohol in trenchers.
Valenna passed Evander standing at the end of the bar, talking to a young woman dressed in a burgundy gown with a plunging neckline.
He dropped a few kibs into her hand, and she smiled, leaning seductively toward him. Valenna felt a stab of jealousy.
Beyond the counter, the room broadened, and a fire roared in a stone hearth. Over the thick oak mantle hung an Elkin Bear head, its sprawling antlers strung with cobwebs. On the mantle itself ranged a collection of bleached animal skulls.
Itching with jealousy, Valenna crumpled into a deep leather chair and watched Evander as he and the woman at the counter whispered to one another.
She put her hand on his arm, running her fingers down his sleeve, and Evander pulled away, casting a furtive glance over his shoulder at Valenna, who darted her attention toward the fire.
Her cheeks were still burning from the encounter outside, and she began to wish she had never come.
“Are you hungry?”
She glanced up. Evander stood over her, his hands in his pockets, rainwater dripping out of his hair. He wasn’t looking at her; instead, he was gazing sorrowfully at the skulls.
“You aren’t allowed to kill magical creatures,” he said with disgust.
“No, you aren’t allowed to kill magical creatures,” Valenna said sharply. “Not everyone has made an ill-advised oath.”
“Yes,” Evander replied, “but even people who haven’t taken the oath aren’t allowed to kill Elkin Bear.”
Valenna rolled her eyes. If an Elkin Bear threatened to devour him bite by bite, he’d probably pull out a pad of paper and take notes while it ate him. “I am hungry, but it seems you’ve found some more engaging company,” she said, realizing too late that her voice was laced with bitterness.
Evander furrowed his brow, puzzled.
Valenna jerked her head toward the woman at the counter, and Evander looked annoyed.
“She told me that one of her customers saw the dragon and…”
A roar of disjointed song burst from the counter, and someone ordered the fiddler to play a jig.
Evander winced, his teeth on edge. “She told me one of her girls saw the dragon and pointed out on the map … on the map … where …” He pinched the bridge of his nose.
A barmaid pushed the tables aside, their wooden legs screeching across the floor. The music bounded into a tipsy folk song, and feet pounded as the customers swung into a rollicking dance.
Evander’s shoulders tensed against the noise, and Valenna’s annoyance melted, salt in water.
“Let’s get a room,” she suggested.
He raised his eyebrows.
“To eat and get away from the commotion,” she corrected.
Evander turned and nearly knocked over a small girl in a thin red dress who had sidled up to them so quietly that Evander hadn’t noticed her.
“I’m so sorry,” he cried. “I didn’t see you. Are you alright?”
“I’m sorry.” Her lip quivered, and she cast a look toward the woman at the counter. “I was told you wanted to know about the dragon?”
“Yes,” Evander replied. “We’re from the Silvanlight dracorium, and we lost a small yearling.”
“Yes, I saw it on my way to work.”
“When was this?”
“About an hour ago.”
“Thank you.” Evander took two kibs from his pocket and placed them in her hand. As she turned to go, the tavern door opened and Haldir stumbled in, his face dark with rage, water streaming down his face. Evander caught the girl’s arm, and she recoiled, then forced a smile.
“What’s your pleasure, sir?”
Evander handed her three more kibs. “I’ll give you these if you promise me you won’t work for that man with the dark hair tonight.”
“If I’m idle, I’ll be punished.”
“But you won’t be idle, because I need someone to watch my dragon. She’s very gentle, but she gets lonely.”
“Your dragon has too many heads,” the girl said nervously.
Evander offered her a soft smile. “I noticed that as well."
The girl’s eyes widened, and Valenna realized how sickeningly young she was. No older than Samara. “She won’t eat me?”
“She’s as gentle as a kitten. I’ll give you my coat to keep you warm.”
Valenna's heart warmed. There he was. Her Evander—the gentle man she’d loved in Largotia. He was still there, hiding beneath this stern, unyielding facade he’d built since he left.
The girl took his coat and wended her way through the growing crowd. Evander watched her until she passed Haldir.
“I miss you,” Valenna murmured.
“What was that?” He turned toward her.
“Never mind. Let’s get you out of this noise.”