While I sat glumly on a stone outcropping with my pitiful bundle of belongings beside me, the brown dragon dispersed the image of my aunt and her audience and summoned his blue-grey friend again. I was trying to think of some alternative, some way that I could get out of this mess and go home … No, not home. I didn’t have a home any more, and I was old enough to make my own way in the world, one way or another.
First, however, I needed to get out of this cave.
“The Lord of Carlieff’s son is coming,” Theoradus told his friend in a dry growl, “to rescue the fair maiden.”
“Is she fair?” His friend squinted up out of the water at me. “I never can tell with these humans.” He shook his head. “Is he decked out in shining armour and already madly in love with the poor maiden?”
“Yes,” Theoradus admitted, an expression of distinct embarrassment crossing his face.
The other dragon roared with what I realised was laughter. “I might come and watch. Earnest young knights are my favourite sport. I love the looks on their faces when they realise that they’re being slow-cooked in their own armour.”
An idea was forming in my brain, though I had to take a moment to quell the horrifying image of the lord’s son being slow-cooked in his own armour. This outer chamber of the dragon’s lair was very plain, but there was a wide opening beyond the pool that surely led to more caves.
I hopped down from my cold seat. “If I may suggest something,” I began.
“No,” the brown dragon said curtly.
“If you would please listen to me, I could save you the inconvenience of having to fight the lord’s son,” I wheedled.
“No one asked you,” Theoradus retorted.
“But I don’t want to stay here and have you fight him,” I said, taking a bold step towards the beast. “And you don’t want to fight him, either.”
“What is it trying to say?” The blue-grey dragon peered curiously up at me. There was a look of amusement on its muzzle.
“I will happily leave here, and take the lord’s son with me,” I said in a rush. “That way, you won’t have to worry about me, or fighting the lord’s son or any other knight. And all I ask in return is a small trinket from your large and no doubt magnificent hoard.”
A single jewel-encrusted goblet from the dragon’s hoard would pay my way to a city … perhaps even to the King’s Seat itself … And surely the dragon would not miss a single item from what I was sure was a prodigious treasure trove, considering his age.
“You want something from my hoard?” The brown dragon looked stunned.
My heart sank. Perhaps in dragon society this was a horrible faux pas. I prayed fervently that it wasn’t the sort of mistake that was remedied by roasting the offender.
The other dragon guffawed, stirring the water of the pool from underneath. “What in the name of the Seven Volcanoes do you want a pair of shoes for?”
“I beg your pardon?” I stared from one dragon to the other. “Shoes? A pair of – No … I wanted … a goblet or some such.”
“A goblet?” The brown dragon looked mystified. “I don’t collect dinnerware.”
The other snorted, rippling the surface of the pool. “She’s heard the stories,” he explained. “She thinks we all lounge about on piles of gold.”
“You don’t?” My voice was a squeak.
“Of course not,” Theoradus said. “Well, I’m sure there are some who do. It takes all kinds. I myself fancy shoes.” His golden eyes half-closed. “There’s just something so fascinating about the way they’re made, and the way the styles change over the years …”
The blue-grey dragon in the pool was laughing quietly, a sound that made my eyes water. “Go on, then! Let her take a pair of shoes if she likes, and be off!”
I looked down at my rough sandals. I thought again about going back. I thought about my aunt and the bed I shared with my cousins, who pinched me when they wanted more blankets.
“One pair of shoes,” I bargained with the brown dragon of Carlieff, feeling my heart hammering in my chest at my boldness. “And I’ll never trouble you again.”
There was a long, terrible silence.
“Oh, why not?” He sighed. “Come this way.”
He led me past the pool where the image of the other dragon still laughed, and through the entrance to the inner chamber of his lair. Here, too, I was disappointed as this proved to be just another large cavern, but with a huge oval depression in the floor to one side that I suspected might be the dragon’s bed. Beyond the bed was yet another rough opening and this one was curtained by a large and somewhat mouldy tapestry.
The dragon pulled the tapestry aside with a gesture that was almost reverent, and motioned with his foreclaw for me to precede him into the inner cave. I took a deep breath, still secretly hoping for a pile of gold, and stepped forward.
Shoes. Shoes as far as the eye could see. This third cavern was the largest yet, and every square foot of it was covered in wooden racks holding shoes. Women’s shoes, men’s shoes, children’s shoes. There were boots and dancing slippers and sandals. Shoes made of cloth and leather and wood. There were fanciful pointed slippers with bells on the upturned toes and men’s work boots with thick soles.
I marvelled at fur-lined boots embroidered with red silk and clusters of small shells. The dragon watched carefully as I caressed a pair of high-heeled dancing slippers so encrusted with emeralds that I doubted the wearer would be able to walk in them, let alone dance. I could not imagine what sort of person would wear such shoes, and I stopped to imagine briefly where the woman had lived, and when.
“Make your choice,” the dragon said as I reached out a hand to a tiny pair that were apparently carved of crystal. The dragon’s voice sounded nervous, and I wondered if he was afraid that my rough peasant’s hands would damage the delicate footwear.
I withdrew my hand and moved on, searching for shoes that looked to be my size. Something sensible, I thought, boots perhaps, or at the least, sturdy brogues.
Nevertheless I paused before a delicate pair of green satin slippers embroidered with gold. My mother would have loved them, I thought with a pang. I remembered how she had sighed over some of the fancy embroidery that she had done for the wealthy women of the town. It had always saddened me that she was forced to wear such plain gowns, when all the while she was toiling over beautiful and intricate garments for women who did not even look her in the eyes when they paid her.
“No, Creel,” I told myself firmly, moving on. “You have to be sensible.”
Sensible. I was not going back to Carlieff Town. I had to make my own way in the world, and if I was going to take a pair of shoes, they would need to reflect that.
I began looking at sturdy shoes with thick soles. They should fit well and be comfortable, or there was no point in having them at all. Fortunately, in the six hundred or so years that the brown dragon had been collecting shoes, he had amassed quite an array in all shapes and sizes, and I soon had a large selection to try on.
He still seemed tense about me touching his hoard, but I was careful to treat each pair gently, no matter how plain or fancy. I set them down on the far side of the room and crouched down to see which ones fitted.
The embroidered slippers made me think of my vague plan, and as I tried on pair after pair of shoes, I worked it over. My mother had taught me to embroider, and to knot and weave sashes and lace. She herself had been an assistant dressmaker in the King’s Seat, before a visit to some cousins had resulted in her meeting and marrying my father. She had never let me do anything for an actual customer, explaining that they had paid her to do the work and she had an obligation to do it. She had trained me using scraps of fabric and tag ends of thread, and I could admit without any false modesty that I was good. Very good, in fact. After I surpassed even my mother’s skill, she had often lamented that my talent would be wasted in Carlieff, with no money to send me to a larger city where I might find a place at a fancy shop.
I had thought that with a piece of the brown dragon’s hoard I could pay my way to a city and buy the materials I would need for a sampler set to show potential employers. If I was as accomplished as Mother had said, then I hoped to earn enough to one day open my own shop. But without silver to buy what I needed, I would have to try another way. Perhaps if I went to the King’s Seat, where I was totally unknown, and claimed that bandits had robbed me of nearly everything during the journey, the scanty bits of cloth and yarn I had with me would be enough to find me a job.
I had been so caught up in my plans that it took me a moment to realise that I had gone through all the shoes I had originally selected and none of them fitted. I heaved a sigh and put them all back, then began searching for more. Perhaps some sturdy boots meant for a boy, or a better pair of sandals would have to do.
There was a sound from the outer cavern, and the dragon left off his anxious scrutiny of me. I gathered from the rumbling that his friend was impatient to hear what was happening.
At the far end of the last row of shelves I found a strange pair of shoes. Well, not really all that strange – they were sitting beside two somethings made of black and white feathers, which could not possibly fit human feet – but they caught my attention nonetheless. They were a rich azure blue, and made from very soft, thick leather. They had no laces, but slipped over the foot to reach a little way up the front and back of the ankle. The heels were low, the soles were made of some stiffer dark gold leather, and the interiors were lined with white silk.
They were much too fancy for my needs, but I couldn’t tear my eyes from them all the same. They looked to be just my size, and terribly comfortable. Besides, I reasoned, they were obviously new and of good quality. And if I wanted to pass myself off as a master artisan I would need to dress better.
And that meant wearing nice shoes.
I picked them up and went back to the centre of the room, where I had been gathering another group of shoes to try on. I left the blue slippers for last, but I already knew in my gut that they would be the only pair that fitted.
I was right.
None of the boots or sandals, the brogues or even the crude moccasins I thought came from the southlands fitted my feet. They were too big or too small, the toe pinched or the heel did. They were too stiff, or too floppy, for proper walking.
And then I slipped into the blue pair.
They fitted as though they had been made for my feet. They were so light that I felt as if I were barefoot, yet the soles were thick enough that I could not feel the uneven stone floor beneath them. They were supple as I walked and didn’t slide or chafe my feet. I had a sudden urge to cut the skirt of my gown off at the knee so that everyone could admire my beautiful new shoes.
“By the Seven Volcanoes!” The brown dragon had returned, and steam was rising from his nostrils as he surveyed my footwear. “What are you doing?”
I was taken aback by his reaction. “You said I could have any pair of shoes that I wanted,” I said stubbornly. I had never owned anything as nice as these shoes, and longing for them made me bold. “And these are the only ones that fit me. I want these.”
“Any shoes but those!”
I frowned up at him. “No, it was to be any shoes I liked. You never said that there were some pairs I could not have!”
“What’s going on?” The voice of the blue-grey came wafting into the shoe cave. “Which shoes did she pick?”
“She picked the –” Theoradus began, roaring back over his winged shoulder to the cave entrance. “She picked the –” Then he looked back at me and snapped his fanged muzzle shut.
“You said any pair of shoes,” I reminded him. “Or I will stay here, and let my aunt rouse the entire town to come after you.” I folded my arms and put my chin in the air. “You gave your word just as I gave mine.”
“You don’t know what you’re doing,” the brown dragon said, its eyes narrowed to slits.
“They’re only shoes,” I pointed out. “They are very nice,” I hastened to add. “And they are certainly the finest slippers I have ever worn. They fit me perfectly.”
Theoradus studied me carefully for some minutes, while the sound of the blue-grey’s voice grew ever more petulant. The brown monster stared at the shoes, still visible because I was holding up my skirt so that I could admire them, too. He looked into my face, and smoke continued to billow from his nostrils, making my eyes water.
“Just a pair of shoes, you say?” His voice was rougher than normal. “I did indeed give my word. And you will hold me to it?”
Mute and confused, all I could do was nod.
He heaved an enormous sigh, even more bone-rattling than the ones he had emitted when I’d first arrived, and then he turned away.
“Then – I may keep them?” I called after him.
“I gave my word,” came the heavy reply. “You wish to have those shoes, and I cannot refuse you.” There was the scraping of his claws on stone as he walked back through the sleeping chamber. “She has selected a pair of shoes,” I heard him tell the blue-grey dragon.
“Oh, come now!” The other dragon was obviously still highly amused by the situation. “Did she winkle out your favourite pair? You look as though your fire has gone out!”
“Come forward, girl,” Theoradus snapped. “And show Amacarin which shoes you have chosen.”
Still holding my skirts at my knees, I walked over to the edge of the pool and held first one foot and then the other over the water. The blue-grey dragon reflected there hissed and drew back in shock. His eyes flicked from my feet to Theoradus and back several times before he could speak.
“Those shoes?” He was gasping for air. “Out of all the foolish human footgear you have collected over the years, she selected those? Why do you even have them?”
The great brown dragon bristled, literally, at having his hoard referred to as “foolish”, but he did not otherwise reply. I looked from one beast to the other. “What is so remarkable about these shoes?”
Amacarin, as the blue-grey was apparently named, hissed again. “Those shoes –”
“Those shoes were made by a master craftsman, many years ago,” Theoradus interrupted. “And no dragon parts lightly with something he treasures.”
“Especially something like –” Amacarin began.
“Any choice would have been difficult for me to see on your feet,” Theoradus broke in.
“Er,” I said. “Well, I’m … sorry … to have upset you.” I looked from one dragon to the other, but neither spoke for a long time.
Then Theoradus turned to me. “You have your shoes, girl, now go. And remember to keep your part of the bargain.”
“Yes … sir,” I squeaked, my attention being drawn from my new shoes to the fact that I was standing just a pace away from a large and upset dragon.
I let go of my skirts and hustled back to the shoe room to fetch my things, slipping my old sandals into the bundle just in case. I had toyed with the idea of leaving them behind, a little addition to the dragon of Carlieff’s collection, but decided they were far too crude and shabby. Besides, I might want to wear them for a while, to spare my new shoes.
“Thank you, sir,” I said sincerely as I made my way out of the caves. “You have been most kind and understanding about this whole, er, business.”
“I have kept my part of the bargain,” Theoradus said. “Now you must keep yours.”
“Yes, indeed,” I replied, and hurried down the path towards Carlieff Town.