The Dragon's Lair (14 page)

He thought about the gray stone marker that stood in her family burying ground marking the grave of her only son, Gregory, who, like Cadwalder's parents, had been killed at the Crossroads by brigands fifteen years before. He also thought about Mr. Whiting's dogs, and how they had almost put the Inn out of business attacking travelers on the road not long before.

"Mrs. Snodgrass needs to know how dangerous it's become around here—but we can't go back to tell her. If she knows about the ravens, maybe she'll want to bring the kids from Hare Warren and Mouse Lodge into the Inn for a while, or get Otis to stay overnight—he travels this road and crosses the bridge every day. Would you and Leo be willing to take the message back to her?"

The old orange tabby stretched lazily, then rubbed up against Amariel, sending her into a fit of sneezing.

"Oh, I
suppose
," he said. "Besides, I can smell those birds from here.
I'm
about to start sneezing myself. Let's go, Leo."

"You can smell the birds?" Char asked.

Murphy sauntered down the wagon bed to the gate, followed by Leo.

"Not as easily as I can smell the rats along the riverbed, but it's clear that there are far more than there should be in any one place. Birds are supposed to be
prey
to us, not predators. If there are that many, Ven's right, and Trudy should know. Besides, if Leo or I die being pecked to death by birds, we'll never live it down."

"Thank you," said Ven. "You should probably keep low in the grass on the way back, so they don't notice and go after you, like they did with the keekee."

"Ven," said Murphy as Leo jumped out of the wagon and onto the road, "don't tell us how to do our job. I think you have enough to worry about. Good luck to you all." He rubbed up against Amariel's legs on the way out of the gate. "Especially you."

"Nice," murmured Clem in disgust as Murphy jumped from the wagon. "I've fed you every morning for the last two years. And you're wishing
her
luck. Thanks a lot."

"You can have that luck if you want it," Amariel said.

"
Now
what are we gonna do?" Char asked as the cats slunk into the highgrass heading west and disappeared.

"It would be suicide to try and cross that bridge now," said the forester. "I don't even want to go a step nearer to it. Right now they don't see us, but ravens have better eyesight than humans do. Fortunately, I'm not human, and Ven owns that tool." He nodded at the jack-rule. "Had either of those things not been the case, we would be covered by them by now. That many ravens can kill a small army."

"So what
do
we do?" Ven asked. "Can we go upriver, to the mill towns? We've been there once before—remember, Char? That's where we saw the windmill."

"Right—it's where we came out of the tunnel after we escaped from the
Gated City
," said Clemency pointedly. "If Felonia is mad enough, and looking hard enough, she might have found that exit—and maybe has someone waiting for us there, too."

"There is another mill town," Tuck said, rubbing his chin. "But it's south on the river, not north. And it's a strange place—a very strange place. I'm not sure which way is safer. If we go north, we may fall into the hands of the Thief Queen. But if we go south, we may end up in the clutches of the King of the River."

"The King of the River?" asked both boys at once.

Tuck nodded. "His name is Regis, and in his own way, he is every bit as much a thief as Felonia. At least the Lirin of the Enchanted Forest think so. It is said that he is no friend to Felonia. But we must decide what we are going to do quickly. The birds are perched there for now, but they won't roost long before sending out a scout."

"So what will it be?" Ven asked. "North or south?"

Saeli coughed, stood up, smoothed her rumpled hair, and pointed south. The keekee poked its head out of the hair at the base of her neck and pointed its tiny finger downriver as well.

"I don't think we want ta be headin' north, no matter what," said Char. "I say we take our chances with the River King. Felonia may want you and Ida back, Ven, but when we were in her cages, she kept tellin' her guards to shoot me first. It might be nice for someone else ta have that honor for a while."

"South it is," Ven said.

Tuck said nothing, but clicked to the horses. The wagon rumbled off, leaving the roadway and heading slowly over the southern fields as the sun began to climb down the sky toward nightfall.

9
Heading East by Way of
the South

In our family, there's an old expression: "He's had one too many turns at the forge." It refers to someone who hears something and takes it in the wrong way, or finds meaning that no one else does in it. This is because the forge is a loud, hot part of the factory where ore is melted and shaped into steel on an anvil, usually by being banged on with hammers. When you've been working the forge for a while, your ears ring so much that you can barely hear what is said to you, and often you just hear pieces of it. So it's easy to misinterpret what people are saying. It also can mean someone who thinks he understands a situation perfectly, but in truth has it totally wrong
.

I was never really trusted to work there much, but back at home in Vaarn I was often accused of having had one too many turns at the forge
.

I suddenly understood why
.

Amariel is the most interesting person I have ever met. Maybe it's because I've never spoken to anyone who has a tail. Maybe it's because she's the first and only merrow I've ever gotten to talk to, or because she saved me from drowning when no one else could. Maybe I was sick with cold and saltwater fever when she told me all her merrow tales and sang me all her songs, because they have taken root in my brain. Each time I see her, I miss her when she goes back into the waves, because I am afraid I may never see her again
.

I am so happy she finally agreed to come with me. While my friends and I may be in danger from the Thief Queen's spies, at least we have each other, and Tuck. If I left Westland without taking Amariel with me, she would be waiting around the abandoned pier, wondering what had happened to me. She might feel abandoned herself—or, worse, she might be worried that something had happened to me, like I know my parents did when the Fire Pirates sank my father's ship
.

Worst of all, she might have stayed, waiting for me, and gotten caught by the Raven's Guild when the underwater tunnel was unsealed. Without her family, her school of other merrows to protect her, she wouldn't have had a chance. I am so relieved she decided to come along, not just because I miss her when she stays behind, but because I would never stop worrying about her. She is special to me
.

So I foolishly expected that my friends would like her as much as I do, or at least enough to welcome her into our group. They are all special to me as well, even Ida, who was being so obnoxious that I was almost tempted to leave her behind. But that turned out to be wrong-headed thinking, because it's not just Ida. Everyone except Saeli had made Amariel feel uncomfortable, frightened, or mad
.

Even Char, my best friend
.

And they don't mean to
.

Just like she has made them feel the same way with her strange misunderstandings of the dry world, her distrust of humans, and her tendency to spit
.

If there was anything I was certain of when I went to town this morning, it was that my friends would like Amariel and she would like them, too. I guess she was right when she told me to stop assuming how anyone else would feel
.

Because clearly I've had one too many turns at the forge
.

B
Y MID-AFTERNOON, THE MOON HAD RISEN. IT FLOATED IN THE
pale blue sky, a white shadow of itself, fading in between the clouds passing in front of it.

Tuck had suggested that the children take a nap, because they would arrive at the southern bridge well after nightfall, and it was a good idea to be awake and fresh when crossing the Great River. After a good deal of jostling and shoving, the six of them managed to find places in the wagon to lie down somewhat comfortably in between the bags and barrels. Clemency positioned herself near the wagon's side to keep Saeli from banging into it if the wagon should rock. Ida arranged a small mountain of grain sacks and snuggled down into it. Char curled up in the front of the wagon near Tuck's seat. And Ven lay down in the back end next to Amariel, who had moved as far away from the others as she could.

"Are you feeling better?" he asked the merrow, who was shivering a little as the sun started to go down.

"Not really," Amariel admitted. "I still don't like humans. But the dry world is interesting, I'll say that."

"You aren't getting used to my friends, just a little?" Ven asked hopefully.

"Well, the Gwadd is nice at least."

"Just Saeli? You don't like any of the others?"

Amariel sighed. "In case you hadn't noticed, Ven, they don't like
me
."

"Give them a chance," Ven urged. "Once they get to know you, they will."

"You really don't understand," said the merrow. "This is one of the reasons merrow mothers tell their merrowlings not to trust humans. Even when we look like them, even when we have legs, they can tell we're different. And humans don't like anyone who's different. Surely you must have found that to be true."

Ven thought back to his first day on the Island. Char had flagged down a farmer to give them a ride to the Inn, but when the man discovered that Ven was Nain, he refused to let him into the wagon. Char, in turn, refused to accept the ride, and the man drove off, hurling insults at Ven.

It was no different than what his brothers had experienced many times in Vaarn.

"Yes," he said reluctantly. "I've had a few humans be nasty to me because I'm different. But as you can see, there are more of them who are nice, who don't care whether I'm human or not. Wasn't Mrs. Snodgrass kind to you?"

"She was," said the merrow. "But she knows the sea. So she doesn't count. The rest of your friends aren't happy that I'm here. You wish they were, and maybe some of them will be, but right now it's very uncomfortable. Just leave it alone for a while, Ven. You aren't in charge of whether or not I have a good time in the dry world. I made that decision on my own. You're just in charge of keeping my cap safe and not letting anyone touch it, or even
see
it. As long as you do that, everything will be all right."

Ven smiled. "I will. I promise. I'll try not to even open my pocket unless I have to."

"Good," said the merrow. "Now, stop being such a blabbermouth and let me get some sleep."

Ven waited until her eyes were closed and she was breathing steadily. Her mouth was open, and he noted that the edges of the lines that had once been her gills fluttered slightly each time she took a breath. When he was sure she was asleep, he rose and moved to the front of the wagon where Char was lying on his back, staring at the passing clouds, and lay down beside him.

"You all right?" Ven asked his roommate.

"Define 'all right'."

"How's your head?"

"Stopped bleedin'," Char said. "Feels like it was bein' used as an anvil all day."

"I'll bet," said Ven. "Sorry."

Char rolled on the side.

"Would you like to tell me what the heck is going on, Ven?" he asked. "When I woke up this mornin', I knew it was gonna be a bad day; Murphy wrote it out for me just in case I wasn't sure." He pulled the leg of his trousers and pointed to the cat-scratch
M
. "But if I'd had any idea just
how
bad, I'd of climbed back inta bed, pulled the pillow over my head, and let the Spice Folk, Cadwalder, and Murphy do their worst to me tryin' to make me get up. I think you owe me an explanation at least."

"I know," Ven said quietly. "Everything happened so quickly that even I don't know exactly what's going on."

"Any little bit o' clarification will help. You came inta the Inn and said we was leavin'—then you went to town, and you came back with a wagon, a driver who's a great shot, and the weirdest girl I've ever met. I liked the way you was actin' like the Cap'n, but I think ya may have a mutiny on your hands soon unless you start explainin' what's goin' on here."

"Do you remember the man who helped us carry the parsnips into the kitchen this morning?"

Char looked perplexed. "I guess so."

"That was the king."

"What king?"

"King Vandemere," Ven said. "I'm not joking. He had to sneak out of his own castle to get an urgent message to me, that ravens were gathering in huge flocks all throughout Westland and were even being seen east of the river. He knows about the Thief Queen, and wanted us to get away as soon as we could—all of us that might be in danger. He left Tuck with us to get us safely out of Westland, because he's a Lirin forester, and knows the lands east of the river better than anyone."

"So where'dya go this mornin', then?" Char asked.

Ven swallowed. He wanted to be honest with his best friend, but he felt that too much was known about the merrow already.

"To town," he said simply. "To get supplies."

"And your friend Amariel," Char said pointedly. "Who I never heard of 'til today."

"Well, given the warm welcome she received from my other friends, perhaps you understand now why I didn't introduce her earlier," Ven said. "Mostly I haven't told you things because the time has been short, Char. But just in case you think I'm not sharing the important stuff, take a look at this."

He held out his hand with the Black Ivory sleeve.

"What's that?" Char asked.

"It's a kind of stone called Black Ivory that's made into boxes and sleeves used for hiding powerful or magical things," Ven said softly. "I saw Madame Sharra in Kingston—"

"
Madame Sharra?
"

Ven clapped his hand over Char's mouth. "Keep your voice down," he cautioned. "She came to find me—I don't know how she got out of the Market when Felonia apparently isn't able to. She said she wanted to know why she was unable to see any future for me. And after she read my palm, she still couldn't see anything."