The Dragondain (14 page)

Chapter Ten

The Blackmage

L
ily
hit the floor hard and rolled into something, coming to rest flat on her back. Lying still, fighting back the fog in her head, she felt stupid for not having had the forethought to ask Jasper exactly where in Cora’s house he was when he left, and if he had been sitting or standing. She was determined not to make the same mistake twice.

The only light was coming from above—a small window, perhaps. Lily felt disoriented. Had she rolled under a piece of furniture? She was definitely on her back, looking up at something.

The quiet was disturbed by a sound from above. Suddenly, a little girl’s head, framed by long locks of tangled hair, popped into view and peered down at her. A second little girl’s head appeared next to the first, and then a third one appeared on her other side.

“I told you,” said the second head to the first.

“And I
believed
you,” said the first.

“Didn’t,” said the second.

“Did too,” said the first.

“It’s
her
, isn’t it,” said the third, sounding despondent.

The little girl in the center, who couldn’t have been more than three, gave Lily a long, unhappy look. “You have a
lot
to do,” she said, in a disturbingly adult-like voice.

Lily pulled herself gingerly into a sitting position and stared at the little girl in the center. “You’re Meeri, aren’t you?” she said.

“She’s quick,” said the second girl to Meeri. “That’s good.”

“And you,” said Lily to Jin, “you’re Min?”

Jin frowned.

“I mean Jin.”

Jin smiled.

“Not quick enough,” said Min.

Then Jin looked up and away, as though something had just caught her eye. “Mother is coming,” she whispered.

Instantly, all three heads disappeared, and Lily heard the children thump onto a mattress before everything went still. A second later, the door opened and a woman peered in inquisitively. Her eyes swept the room at eye level several times before glancing down and noticing Lily.

Feeling like an intruder, Lily hastened to apologize. But before she could get any words out, the woman smiled, looking as though she’d been expecting Lily’s visit all along.

“Oh good!” the woman said. “You’re finally here.” She offered Lily a hand up. “I thought I heard a bump,” she said cheerfully. “You must be Lily.”

“And you must be . . . Cora?” said Lily.

“I told you she was quick,” whispered Jin, a little too loudly.

The corners of Cora’s eyes crinkled. “And those three, pretending to be asleep, are my three small ones, Meeri, Min, and Jin,” she said proudly.

Lily smiled. “We’ve just met.”

“Can you bake?” asked Cora encouragingly.

No sooner had Lily assented than she found herself hard at work in a hot, smoky kitchen.

“Normally, I’d have Annora and Bree helping,” Cora explained, handing a heavy pan to Lily and pointing to the lower oven. “But I’ve had to do without them this week.”

This
week!
thought Lily.

“Of course, that
is
two fewer mouths to feed.”

Cora talked fast and was very accommodating. Still, Lily worried about asking her too many questions, like “How do I set the temperature on this oven?” or “Where’s your faucet?” But when Lily asked Cora for measuring spoons, and Cora held up her cupped hands, Lily decided they were going to get along just fine.

The two of them had been working for almost an hour, filling basket after basket with loaves of bread, eggs, fruits, muffins, and pies when Lily asked, “Are we feeding an army?”

“Busy day today,” answered Cora. “We’re going to Raewyn’s. Well, not all of us, just you and me, really. Everyone else will be at old Pym’s homestead. Pym’s not living there year round now, but the fields are planted during the growing season, and the barns and bins are available to neighbors.”

“Are there animals there?”

“At times.”

Lily knew the name Raewyn. Keegan had talked about her. “My Raewyn,” he had said. Lily wanted to verify and record the familial relationship between Keegan and Raewyn, but instead she heard herself say, “You’re going out into the wastes?”

Cora nodded, keeping an eye on Lily to gauge her reaction.

Lily shifted nervously on her feet. “You’re not . . . taking Tavin there, are you?”

Cora smiled the way a mother does when a child perceives a danger that isn’t really there.

“No,” she said. And then Cora placed a hand to her side and her face tightened in pain, as though she’d just experienced an intense cramp. Just as fleetingly as it had arrived, the pain subsided, and she straightened back up again.

“Are you all right?” asked Lily.

“Just a little prick, nothing more,” said Cora, letting out a long breath. “And don’t you worry about Tavin. He won’t be traveling with us today.” A flash of sadness passed over her face.

Lily tried not to let her relief show, but she couldn’t shake the feeling that Cora knew all about Tavin tricking her into untying him, and all that followed.

Ridley, his unkempt hair shooting out in all directions, was the first to stumble into the kitchen. He took a seat at the big kitchen table across from Cora and Lily as they assembled the food for the trip.

“Do I have to go to—” Ridley stared up at Lily. “Are you Jasper’s sister?”

“Yes,” answered Lily, smoothing down her apron and pushing her hair out of her eyes.

Ridley continued to stare.

“This is my Ridley,” said Cora. “He’s studying to become a lunarithmatist.”

“Oh, Mother,” said Ridley.

Lily turned away from the table and felt a blush growing on her cheeks. Thinking fast, she ducked down and opened one of the oven doors, pretending to check on something while lingering long enough for the heat of the oven to soak in and mask her reddened face. While she took in the yeasty smell of the bread, she wondered how it was that such a young boy could make her blush. It made her feel stupid, which wasn’t helping. He must have been a full foot shorter and several years her junior. He was a little boy! There weren’t any boys back home who had ever made her do that.

Lily stood up and looked at Ridley, trying to put her finger on it. But when she looked at him this time, he was just a little boy, piling food on his plate.

“What’s that?” asked Lily.

“It’s the study of lunarithmancy,” said Cora.

Lily gave Cora a puzzled look.

“Predicting crossovers. It’s very complicated work.”

Ridley rolled his eyes. “I’m not any good at it.” Then Ridley’s eyes settled again on Lily’s and down back to the oven she had to go. They were
not
a child’s eyes.

Lily pulled out a tray of muffins and emptied them into a nearby basket, briskly brushing out the crumbs from the empty cavities before placing the pan next to the batter to be refilled. As she scooped batter into the tins, Lily attempted to steal a glance at Ridley, but he looked up at her as though he sensed her stare. His eyes were like a grown man’s eyes—eyes that had seen a lot more than any ten-year-old’s in Pennsylvania. Lily felt herself blushing again. Ridley smiled innocently while tearing away at a muffin and chewing loudly with his mouth open.

“You’re very pretty,” said Ridley, and he giggled.

Lily glanced at Cora, who grinned back. Suddenly, the spell of Ridley fell apart for good. He became what he was: a cute little boy, badly in need of a good combing.

Before long, others began to file in. Ren, with her dark red hair and pale face, was easy to recognize, and the younger girl who bore her a sisterly resemblance was surely Prin. Lily smiled inwardly, pleased that she hadn’t had to pull out her notes yet. When Cora introduced Ren and Prin as Arric and Linn’s daughters, Lily fought back the desire to whip out her notepad and write this newness down, instead settling for repeating it to herself over and over.

She remembered Arric, of course. He was the lunamancer who had worked to save her from Tavin’s paralysis spell, or was it, as Jasper had suggested, Curse’s paralysis spell? Arric’s skin was much darker than Ren and Prin’s, leading Lily to believe that their mother must be quite fair.

The sisters’ arrival had cast a pall over the room. At first, she had thought Ren’s eyes were puffy from sleep, but now Lily could see they were red from crying. Prin’s too. Then Lily noticed that Cora had stopped meeting her gaze, always seeming to have something else to look at, or something else to do with her hands. The triplets entered this odd scene next, hauling themselves up onto one wide chair and stuffing inexpertly buttered muffins into their eager mouths. No one spoke a word for quite some time. Not until the knocking on the front door.

Ridley ran from the table and opened a small peephole in the door. There was a short exchange that Lily couldn’t catch before Ridley set about sliding open the stout door’s many bolts.

A tall blonde girl with sharply cut features strode in first.
Darce
, thought Lily. She was followed by a younger girl who must be Andra. A boy who could have been Ridley’s age or a little older came next. That would be Teague. The last to enter were two boys as big as men, who Lily knew must be Falin and Grimm. They all hung their riding cloaks, along with their swords and helms, on pegs mounted to either side of the door. Under their cloaks, they wore thick, black leather armor in poor repair. Their boots were the only things that didn’t look ready for the rubbish heap.

Cora introduced them to Lily as they took their seats at the table, and Lily was pleased that she had correctly identified all five. Falin and Grimm really
did
look more like men than boys.

Lily and Cora shoveled plates full of food at them. Strangely, the silence settled again on the table. Lily watched their odd behavior for clues. Falin, Grimm, and Darce hardly looked at Cora, and, conversely, Andra and Teague stared at her, awestruck. What was going on?

Lily had seen teenage boys eat before, but she was totally unprepared for the amount of food she and Cora served Falin and Grimm—not to mention Darce—that morning. Eggs, potatoes, onions, muffins, bread, something that looked like spinach. They devoured plate after plate of the stuff. Ren, Prin, and Andra, on the other hand, had to be reminded several times by Cora that they
needed
to eat—that they would need to keep their energy up for the trip.

Ren and Prin were first to dismiss themselves from the table, wandering through an open door into the courtyard that provided much of the kitchen’s light. Teague and Ridley left next, followed by Darce. Falin and Grimm, the last to finish eating, immediately set to dealing with all the dirty plates, wordlessly pushing Lily and Cora out of the kitchen with nods and grins. Cora thanked them and left to change into her traveling clothes. The triplets, swirling behind their mother’s robes, ascended the staircase with the gusto afforded only to small children and puppy dogs.

Lily tried to help with the dishes, but Grimm would have none of it.

Falin nodded his head toward the courtyard. “We won’t be long,” he said. “Go.”

Everyone outside was sitting, except Darce, who was pacing like a tiger in a cage. None of them looked happy. Prin was holding a handkerchief and looked ill.

“It’s the way of things,” Darce was saying. “The sooner you get used to it the better.”

“Leave her alone, Darce,” said Ren. “Not everyone has a heart as cold and black as yours.”

Darce rounded on Ren like she was meeting a rushing attacker. “People die, Ren! Crying about it isn’t going to change anything.”

Ren met Darce’s scowl with red, swollen eyes. Darce threw up her hands in disgust and retreated to a corner, where she began to pick at her callused fingertips.

Lily thought it odd that the only parent in the whole house appeared to be Cora. She asked Ren where her parents were.

Andra answered instead. “They’ve been sent off,” she said, “They wouldn’t say where, but I’m sure they intend to be at Raewyn’s by nightfall.”

Lily instantly thought of Tavin again, but Cora had said he wasn’t going. Still, how much could Lily trust Cora? She’d met her only this morning.

Lily turned to Andra. “They were sent into the wastes?” asked Lily. Andra nodded. “Is Tavin with them?”

Andra’s lower lip trembled. “No, he isn’t with them.” She turned her face away so Darce couldn’t see her.

Darce, who had begun her pacing again, let out a hiss of disgust.

“Then, Tavin’s in the city,” asked Lily, “—in his guardhouse?”

Teague and Ridley, sitting side by side, stared at the ground.

When Lily looked at Prin, she shook her head. No one would speak. Lily didn’t know what to feel. Tavin had tried to kill her—or, at least, Curse had tried. And yet, she didn’t want to see anyone dead.

“Okay, so, he’s not in his guardhouse?” Lily began. “But he’s still somewhere in the city, right?”

Prin pressed her face into her handkerchief and made a sound that might have been “no” or else it was a sob that just sounded that way.

“Tell her,” Darce said to Ren. “You were at the wall, you saw as much as anyone.”

Lily spun to Ren

Ren licked her lips. “All right.” Ren drew in a shaky breath and let it out slowly. “It happened like this. After Jasper left, Ember came by. She’d wanted to talk to him, I think. She was disappointed he’d gone.” Ren set her jaw. “Tavin’s fever was getting worse.”

“Ember said that?” asked Lily.

“Yes. Dubb had spirited Raewyn away to the city the night before. I don’t know what Raewyn said, but nearly everybody left that very night. But not before Cora and my dad, Arric, sealed Tavin up into his guardhouse with a powerful ward that only we could open. We were to feed him three times a day, and make sure the fire was going. Which we did, but he was getting worse with every day. It wasn’t very long before he stopped recognizing us and started saying things that didn’t make any sense. But Tavin is tough. And Cora was making him soups that seemed to help . . . a little, at least for a time.” Ren grimaced, weaving her fingers in and out of her long hair. “And then,” she swallowed, “yesterday . . .”—her face was strained—“
it
came.”

“What came?” Lily looked about the room, but no one would meet her eye, except Darce, who met her gaze through slitted eyes, her face half turned away. Lily rounded on Ren. “What came, Ren?”

“A blackmage.” Ren sucked in a lungful of air. “It came down the valley on horseback, a cold wind licking at its heels. You could sense the terror it brought, rippling through the city. The workers dropped their tools in the fields and fled before it. The way they ran, you would have thought they were being chased by wolves. Prin and I were at the market, trying to buy some fruit that wasn’t spoiled. I tried to stop some of fieldworkers to ask what was going on, but no one would finish a full sentence before running off. One person, though, said a blackmage had stopped at that black patch that Annora and Bree made, and that it lingered—doing
things
. No one knows what. People shut up their houses all across the city, cowering like sheep.”

“It came for the black patch?”

“No. Worse. It wanted to speak to a representative of the crown. They sent Fellbard. He arrived at the wall with his hand-picked Dragondain, who hid behind the broken bits of wall while Fellbard walked halfway out to meet it.”

“Go on.”

“Then it made its second demand,” said Ren. “It demanded Tavin be brought out to him. It called him by name.” Ren’s face turned to disgust. “‘Is that all?’ Fellbard laughed. He couldn’t have been more pleased. He sent a dozen Dragondain to pry Tavin out, but none of them could open the door. You see, Tavin’s is one of the old houses, the ones built when being Dragondain meant something. Those houses have their own protection, and now this one had an added ward. So Fellbard sent for the best lunamancers serving the royal court. They labored over that door for hours.”

“What did Cora do? She must have been frantic!”

“Mom doesn’t do frantic,” said Ridley.

“Then what
did
she do?”

“She made lunch,” said Ren, holding her head unnaturally high, arching her eyebrows. “She made lunch for all of us, actually. She said it would take them at least three hours to get through Tavin’s door and that there was plenty of time for a good meal—to keep our strength up. Ember showed up just as the first batch of biscuits came out of the oven.”