CHAPTER 24
It was nearly a full day’s ride before we reached the bridge across the Fell River. Because we followed the river, we rode through a more heavily populated area than the border with Grünwald. It made for a few tense moments, but every group that seemed like it might have made trouble for us had less than half our number, and when you’re facing armed riders in leather armor, it matters more that there are ten of them than the fact that most are teenage girls. Everyone gave us a wide berth.
We reached the bridge around sunset. I dismounted and led my horse to the front of the bridge and waited. Behind me I heard Grace say, “Where is this place? Across the river?”
“Just wait,” I called back.
At the moment, the stone bridge arced over the boiling waters, the setting sun glinting off the icy stones in an unbroken arch from the Lendowyn shore across to Dermonica. Despite being the only crossing for miles in either direction, the immediate surroundings were the emptiest stretch of the river coastline we’d come across. For a few moments the only sound was the rushing of the river and the distant cawing of a raven somewhere.
Behind me, Grace spoke up again. “What are we waiting—Where’d he come from?”
A familiar bald man with ancient clouded eyes staggered down the bridge toward us, leaning heavily on his staff and holding out a wooden bowl. “Alms—” he began. Then he stopped short about ten feet away from me. His posture got straighter and his blind expression turned into an annoyed frown. “You again?”
“Uh, not exactly . . .”
“And you have the dragon with you.”
“Again, not exactly.”
The man gave an exasperated sigh and held out the bowl. I threw in a gold crown for each of us. Behind me, I heard Grace say, “And where did that come from?”
Once the toll was paid, the bridge became much shorter, and the river itself much wider, as a dagger-shaped island came into existence between the two shorelines. The space where the bridge had been became a broad avenue that cut across the island roughly in the middle. On one side was a forest that was a little too lush, too green, too dense—especially for this time of year.
On the other side was a walled city that filled that whole half of the island. Towers reached up from within the walls to pierce a sky that felt as wrong as the forest.
“Come on,” I told everyone as I led my horse up across the bridge.
Lucille rode up next to me. “This looks so different.”
“I imagine it does.”
“Things shouldn’t feel this wrong,” she whispered.
“Things are wrong,” I said.
“This is the body I was born in.” Her voice was barely audible. She looked behind us, at the rest of our party, then looked down at me. “How did that man know you?”
I shook my head. “He may look blind, but I suspect that being gatekeeper for this town requires types of sight most people don’t have.”
“He could see who you were?”
“I guess so.”
“He said you still had the dragon with you.”
I smiled at her. “I do.”
She shook her head.
“I should tell you something.”
“What?” she asked.
“When I was waking up from Brock’s herbs, I was still—I—uh—saw something.”
“Yes?”
“Auras I think, outlines of your soul or spirit or something.”
“My soul?”
“Maybe. But what I saw, it was the shape of a dragon.”
“It . . . you’re mocking me.”
“No I’m—”
“Just stop it! I know how you feel about me. You’re right, but you don’t need to be so cruel about it.”
“Lucille, I didn’t—” I had to jump back because she spun her horse around and rode away. For a moment I was afraid she was going to abandon us and gallop back into Lendowyn, but she just rode back to the rear of our group, next to Brock.
What did I say?
I hate it when I screw up without even knowing what I had done.
• • •
We unloaded ourselves into an inn called The Talking Eye. It might have served customers as sketchy as those of The Headless Earl, but at least it was a completely different flavor of sketchy—much more hooded robes and arcane symbols than leather and battle scars. The innkeep didn’t look twice at my party of teenage Amazon warriors, and gladly took our ill-gotten gold for a pair of neighboring rooms.
Lucille didn’t look at me as I let the girls into their room, though I think I saw her smile weakly as she watched Rabbit run and throw herself on the bed with a joyful grunt. The other girls walked in, looking around the room as if they’d just walked into the elf-king’s palace. There was a small iron stove in the corner, with a fire already burning inside. Laya and Krys walked over and crouched next to it, shedding their gauntlets and rubbing their hands.
Behind me, Sir Forsythe said, “The young master should stay with us.”
Everyone turned to face him. “What ‘young master’?” Lucille asked.
“The young boy by the stove,” he said. “It would be improper for him to stay—why are they laughing?”
Krys wasn’t laughing. She stood up and appeared a little embarrassed. “I’m afraid I’m a girl too, Sir Knight.”
“But—”
I patted Sir Forsythe on the arm and said, “It’s okay. You’ve been with me long enough I can understand how you’d be confused. Let them get settled.”
He stepped back and said, “Yes, My Liege.”
At first it seemed unfair that Lucille was wedged into a room with a half-dozen people, but once Brock, Sir Forsythe, and I entered the neighboring room, I envied her. I think just by mass alone, Brock counted as a half-dozen people, and through sheer height and length of limb, Sir Forsythe took up the remaining space.
The less said about the snoring, the better.
• • •
The next day I greased several palms to find someone who was expert in the lore surrounding the Dark Lord Nâtlac.
The Wizard Crumley resided in one of the least pleasant areas of Fell Green, and that’s saying something. It wasn’t winter here, and apparently never was. It felt too warm and too humid, uncomfortably midsummer. Every flat surface seemed to grow sickly moss, and even in midday the alleys and doorways were cloaked in impenetrable shadow. Just standing on the street gave you a feeling that your skin was in danger of being infected by some damp rot. The small patches of open ground resembled swamp, complete with a menagerie of buzzing insects.
Crumley resided at the end of a crooked lane that aimed generally toward the city wall, descending as it did so, until I was certain that we had traveled below the level of the Fell River. The door to Crumley’s lair was black oak streaked with green, held together by rusty iron bands. When I used the heavy iron knocker, the sound was muffled by the dampness of the wood.
“Are you sure this is the right place?” Lucille asked me.
“The dwarf was rather specific.”
“Before or after you paid him?”
Behind me, Mary said, “Seems rather soggy for a mage.”
“Brock’s socks are wet.”
“I told you,” I said. “This is our best chance for a local expert. Most of the people who study the Dark Lord aren’t very approachable.”
I reached up and tried the knocker again.
“Maybe he isn’t home?” I think I heard a hopeful note in Laya’s voice. “Maybe you can come back and try later?”
Lucille leaned over and whispered to me, “Why don’t you send the girls back to the inn with Brock? Do they need to be here?”
I shook my head. “They can handle themselves fine, and I don’t want us to split up.”
“Why not?”
“What happened the last time we split up in this town?”
“Oh—”
She was interrupted by the screech of rusty hinges as the door opened inward into a dim passage.
“What?” called a raspy voice. It took a moment before I identified the source. I peered into the darkness and a voice called up from somewhere around the level of my belt, “You just going to stand there, or you going to say something?”
I looked down and saw a stooped old man shorter than Lucille. He had long white hair and beard, both stained with streaks of green. “We’re looking for Wizard Crumley.”
“Why else would you come down here?” He peered at me through narrow eyes and leaned forward to start sniffing me. The man smelled so strongly of fish and seaweed I had no idea how he could smell anything else. “What do you want?”
“Advice on an enchantment,” I said. “Help undoing it.”
The man waddled over to Lucille, leaning on a bone-white cane that seemed made of driftwood. He smelled her as well, causing her to back up a step. He licked his lips and turned toward me. “Enchantment, eh? No help for the lovelorn?”
“Huh? No?”
He shrugged. “You’re dripping with the Goddess’s touch, boy. But your choice.” He leaned forward and said in a fish-scented stage whisper, “But watch out for this one, lots of fire there, if you get my drift.”
“Are you the wizard?” Lucille interrupted.
“See?” The old man winked at me. He spun around and bowed at all of us. “Of course, I am Wizard Crumley the Boundless, the Exceptional, the Knowledgeable—”
“The long-winded,” I heard Mary mutter from behind me.
“Can you help us with the Dark Lord Nâtlac?” I asked.
Wizard Crumley sighed and brought his staff down on the stones with a weak crack. “Of course it would be him. Are you sure it isn’t the Goddess? She’s much more fun.”
“We were told you know about the Dark Lord,” Lucille said.
“Such knowledge costs, Madam Dragon.”
“What—” Lucille gaped at him.
“We brought payment,” I said, hefting our pouch of ill-gotten gold.
“Of course you did.” He sounded almost disappointed at the prospect. “Come on in then.”
“Wait,” Lucille said, “why did you say ‘Madam Dragon’?”
“Really?” Wizard Crumley waved his hand at her dismissively. “You stink of the lizard, almost as badly as the tall one stinks of the Dark Lord himself. You come for my expertise and you think I cannot sense these things? Maybe you should go elsewhere.”
I hefted my purse. “Now you don’t want our gold?”
“And be insulted?”
I leaned forward. “If I hadn’t heard otherwise about your expertise in the lore of the Dark One, I’d almost suspect you’re trying to avoid being hired.”
“Are you questioning my expertise?”
“Of course not,” I said. “But anyone who had no idea of the vast store of knowledge hoarded by the Wizard Crumley might come to the wrong conclusion, wouldn’t they?”
“Don’t test me.”
“Why would I, when I can hire you?” I held out the pouch. “I can hire you, can’t I?”
He glanced from me, to Lucille, to the rest of our party behind us. He reached up and snatched the purse from my hand and said, “Come in, wipe your feet, and don’t touch anything.”