Chapter 5 #2
‘With the new vet?’ She tried to make it sound like a joke. That fell flat. There was definitely a problem with him but it was Portia’s problem and she wasn’t going to share that with the others.
Fine. A problem. A family problem. She could deal with that. But first she needed to pull herself together. She was not going to face Iris with a blotchy face and red-rimmed eyes.
Portia turned around and strode to the other side of her room, shoving Milo’s letter into her desk. Jade flew down to her shoulder, perching there and cocking her head to one side as she studied Ophelia carefully.
That was actually a good sign. They had the same eyes and the same colouring. Dark hair, light brown eyes that were almost gold in certain light, a family trait. Dragons were known to recognise family members. Jade was no exception.
Their colouring was where their similarities ended.
Portia’s sister, only two years younger than her, was smaller and had the soft curves so different from Portia’s hard angles.
She was gentle, kind and normally a pleasure to be around, when she wasn’t in a mood like this.
She was also so shy she would never have survived the Academy for even a month, even if she had met the magical requirements.
But Ophelia had never even expressed a wish to go there.
‘She’s pretty,’ said Ophelia. ‘You did the right thing. Coming back here with her.’
Portia lifted the dragon down onto the bedside table, where she had put the shawl nest, and made her way to the little en-suite bathroom.
She washed her face and stared into the metal-framed mirror intently.
It wasn’t too bad. Her eyes were barely red at all.
And the blotches had almost gone now. She pressed the cold flannel to her face again and tried to breathe.
She couldn’t let her little sister see her in such a state.
She and August had always been the strong ones, for the sake of the smaller pair.
She forced her voice into something more cheerful and upbeat, hoping Fi would be fooled by that. It used to work.
‘I didn’t have any choice. Nowhere else to go. There, better?’ She stepped back into the bedroom.
Jade trilled again, which was a little reassuring. At least someone thought so.
Ophelia didn’t sound so convinced. ‘You look fine. I don’t think you need to worry about how you look.’
‘Of course I don’t. It’s only Iris.’
‘And Noah Turner.’ Ophelia narrowed her eyes as Portia flushed. Her sister tilted her head to one side, more like a dragon than she would ever admit. ‘He’s handsome, don’t you think?’
‘No.’ Damn, she said that a little too quickly. ‘Do – do you?’
Ophelia shrugged. ‘He’s not my type.’ What was her type?
That was the question. Ophelia didn’t seem to have a type.
Not that Portia had been around much to see her sister’s love life.
But Fi hadn’t even mentioned anyone in a letter and neither had the others.
She’d heard all about August’s love life from both Seb and Fi.
August had more than enough love life for all of them put together. ‘More like yours.’
‘Mine?’ How was he her type? How did Ophelia even know her type? Portia decided she didn’t want to pursue this. Noah Turner was not her type. Overbearing and bossy and… ‘What does she want him here for anyway? No one knows more about dragons than Iris.’
Ophelia sat on the edge of the bed, bouncing a little, just like she always had since they were little, and gave an unexpectedly heavy sigh.
‘That’s what I wanted to talk to you about.
She’s not well, Portia. Not for some time.
That’s the problem. Everyone has been trying to help out but…
we all have our own jobs as well. And Iris…
’ She turned her dark gaze on Portia with an air of admonishment.
‘I did write to you about her. Several times. She isn’t well. She’s been working herself too hard.’
Portia turned on her sister, half defensive and half accusatory. ‘You said she had a cold.’
Ophelia fixed her with that look, the one that had always defeated her.
Solemn and serious, and so perfectly Ophelia that there was no defence against it.
‘You always did read what you wanted to read,’ she replied softly.
‘Iris doesn’t want to admit it so that doesn’t help either.
She had several colds recently, which developed into bronchitis.
I had to get Dr Grattan in and you know how much she hates that.
She’s better for now but… she’s an elderly woman, Portia, and she’s run down.
She does far too much when she ought to be slowing down.
The castle is cold and draughty and she spends all her time up here worrying about teacup dragons instead of herself.
I tried to persuade her to move to one of the cottages in the town, down nearer the harbour, somewhere smaller and less work, in the heart of things, but she wouldn’t hear of it.
Dr Grattan insisted that she take an assistant, and it was like she was selecting the next High Priest of Wenn or something.
I’m still not sure Noah Turner is going to make it, by the way.
She’s following him around like he’s a first-year student rather than an experienced vet.
If we’re not careful she’ll drive him off in no time. ’
‘Iris is always going to be Iris.’ It almost made her feel sorry for Noah Turner. Almost. ‘She has high standards when it comes to the care of dragons. We all know that.’
‘Portia, she needs you. We need you. She’s not going to turn all this over to him, not some stranger.
She’ll let him help a bit, I’m sure. Right now, he’s more like an experiment.
Not a successor. But she needs to rest. She needs to actually spend time recuperating.
The only person she might hand over the reins to is a member of the family, like you, Portia. You’re the only one.’
‘Wait,’ Portia said, sensing the trap a moment too late. ‘I’m not staying on the island, Fi. I have my own work. I’m going back to the Academy.’
At least she hoped that she was. If they would let her. Because every other member of her family who went there had crashed out of the Academy at some point in their life. Even her father with all his talents and connections. They all knew that. Why should she be any different?
No, she couldn’t think like that. Milo would sort it all out. She knew he would. Milo owed her. Besides, he was her friend. He wouldn’t let her down.
‘You know full well you’re the only one she’ll listen to. And the only one she’s likely to relinquish control to. Well, you and August, but you know what he’s like.’
Ophelia and August. Portia was not going to wade into the middle of that again. Even though she had been away for years, only returning for holidays and family events, she knew better than to get between her siblings.
‘Did you try to persuade him to take over the dragon sanctuary too?’ Portia asked, trying to imagine how much of a disaster that conversation had been.
‘I didn’t bother.’ She paused, then looked away guiltily. ‘Seb did.’
Portia rolled her eyes. No wonder Seb was making himself completely invisible since she had come back.
She hadn’t seen hide nor hair of her little brother.
She could only imagine the argument between the boys.
Taking over the dragon sanctuary would mean moving back up here to the castle.
The last place August wanted to be. She wondered if it had devolved into an argument about magic as well, about responsibility and duty.
All their fights inevitably did. Had August told Seb to grow up and get a grip on his own magic before worrying about his?
Or just pulled rank? Oh, she could just imagine what that had been like.
Acrimonious and full of reproaches which had been brewing for years.
Her family loved each other, but sometimes that love was more theoretical than anything else.
They must have jumped for joy when she’d reappeared. And since then, clearly her siblings had been conspiring to push her in line to take over instead of any of them. She pinched the bridge of her nose and tried to count under her breath. How much of this did Iris know? Had she agreed?
No. Probably not. Why involve Iris in this and draw her ire on any of them? No one wanted to think they were being replaced, especially not when it came to their life’s work. Portia knew all about that. She could scream at each and every one of her siblings right now.
‘I’ll talk to her. But I’m not making any promises.’
‘Portia, I mean it. We have thought long and hard about this. We’ve looked for other options. We’ve tried. She’s not well and she can’t keep going on like this. You need to step up.’
* * *
The orangery was a huge room on the south side of the castle, with an array of windows looking out to sea, and a domed glass roof, which flooded it with sunlight all day long.
Every kind of plant was crammed in the space, and the warmth was all encompassing.
Naturally the teacup dragons loved it. It was lush and tropical, designed to trap heat, while being large enough that they could fly around as if entirely at liberty.
It had always been one of Portia’s favourite rooms in the castle.
Wild and overgrown, and home to rare plants her mother had gathered from all over the world, it was like their own private jungle. Time had not tamed it.