Page 15 of The Dragon's Lair


  Ven's mouth was open. He shut it as soon as he realized it, but still the sense of awe he felt was overwhelming.

  "What an amazing place," he murmured. "No wonder you were sad when you were afraid it had been taken over by the humans."

  Saeli nodded, looking relieved.

  "Where does your family live, Saeli?" Clemency asked. "Can we meet them?"

  The Gwadd girl giggled, then nodded. She pointed at the clusters of bright wildflowers dotting the valley.

  "There," she said huskily. She pulled the curtain of ivy closed behind them, and immediately it swelled with moisture again, taking on its former appearance.

  She led them down a winding path lined with pink primroses to the valley floor where the bright patches grew. As they got closer, Ven could see they were little shelters made of willow boughs woven through with many different kinds of flowers and plants, with arched doorways and windows. Each window had a flower box beneath it filled with growing flowers or plants of the same varieties.

  Beside many of the houses were smaller patches of the same kind of flowers. Once Saeli came into view, those patches peeled back, and small, heart-shaped faces appeared, smiling broadly.

  "Look at all the Gwadd," Clem whispered excitedly to Ven, who nodded in agreement. "I've seen Saeli bring flowers around herself a few times when she's nervous—the others must have seen us coming and hidden in plain sight."

  The way magic does, thought Ven. I must draw this as best as I can for the king. He would love this place.

  He turned to the merrow, who was standing beside him.

  "Sometimes when you talk about all the bright colors under the sea, the anemones and the coral reefs, I imagine something like this," he said. "Do those things look anything like this?"

  "Not really," said the merrow placidly. "But this is pretty."

  Ven's brows drew together. He patted his pocket again, but the rustle was still there.

  "Are you feeling all right?" he asked, concerned.

  "Of course," said the merrow. "Just fine."

  Beyond the valley were rich green fields. Cows of all colors and sizes mooed pleasantly in the pastures as they grazed on the grass, the bells around their necks emitting a soft tinkling sound. Jagged rows of corn of every height swirled in random patterns, choking with what appeared to be weeds. Unlike the neatly manicured rows of pale yellow and brown back in the human farming settlement, however, the kernels that peeked through the silk at the top of the dark green leaves were golden and warm like the sun.

  With a harsh cry, Saeli leapt forward and began running in the direction of a tiny shelter made of white dwarf birch twigs. From the fresh mound of white blossoms outside the shelter a tiny old woman emerged, bent over at the waist with age, but still rosy-cheeked and bright-eyed. Loose curls from her silver hair had escaped the bun in the back of her head, and she hurried toward Saeli, her arms open and her skirts flying. They embraced in joy, then Saeli waved the others to come over.

  As they approached, she spoke in her odd, deep voice.

  "Betula Nana!" she said happily, pointing to the old woman.

  "That's her grandmother," Clem whispered.

  "Does she have parents?" Ven asked.

  Clemency shook her head. "But she does have a little brother." She scanned the flower patches, then pointed to a towheaded youth with chubby cheeks and little waterfalls of hair hanging from every place on his head. "I think that's Cecil."

  "Cecil?" Ida asked.

  "Cecil Bean," Clem said.

  "Poor kid," Ida said.

  "Hey, at least he knows his real name," Char muttered. "Better than you or I could say, Ida."

  "I've been told my real name's pretty at least," said the colorless girl, watching the Gwadd swarm around Saeli. "You're named after burned food. That's swell."

  The little white-haired boy ran over to introduce himself.

  "Hi," he said in his own version of Saeli's strange voice which was vaguely squeaky. "We're glad to meet you. Thank you for bringing Saeli home."

  "It's our pleasure," Ven replied.

  "Auntie Hepatica is going to make tea at her house," Cecil continued, pointing to a shelter decorated with gorgeous purple flowers unlike any others in the valley. "You are all invited to come."

  Ven looked at Amariel, who generally disliked being around a lot of people.

  "Is that all right?"

  "Of course," the merrow replied.

  Ven patted his pocket again.

  "Then, yes," he said uncertainly to Cecil, who giggled and ran off after all the small people scurrying toward the purple shelter. He waited until Char, Clem, Ida, and Tuck had followed Cecil, then went over to Amariel and took her by the elbow.

  "You're making me nervous," he said quietly. "Are you feeling all right?"

  "Yes, fine," said the merrow.

  Ven sighed. He wasn't certain what was going on, but he took Amariel by the arm to lead her toward Auntie Hepatica's house. When she didn't pull away, he grew even more worried, but had no idea what to make of it.

  The tea in the house of the Gwadd was charming. The little people were hospitable even if they were shy, and offered plates piled high with ripe strawberries, sweet whipped cream, raspberry tarts and other summer fruits and vegetables that the companions agreed were the best things they had had to eat since leaving the Crossroads Inn.

  "This is how milk should taste," Clem said, sipping a frothy glass. "I don't know how to explain the difference between this and what we had last night, but that just tasted wrong somehow."

  "So did everything else," said Ida. "The corn, the cheese—it wasn't spoiled, I don't think. I dunno. It was weird."

  Saeli was deep in conversation with her grandmother. The joy had left her eyes, and her face was sad again. When they paused, Ven interrupted gently.

  "What is going on, Saeli?" he asked. "Why are the Gwadd all hidden away here, rather than in the lands where the humans live now?"

  Saeli posed the question in the Gwadd language to her grandmother, who turned to Ven and smiled sadly.

  "Once all of these lands were ours," she said. Her voice was rough and aged, but she sounded very much like Ven's own grandmother. I guess everyone ends up sounding like a Gwadd eventually, he thought. "We lived and farmed this part of the Wide Meadows from the First Age, when we came to this island, fleeing the floods that had destroyed our home across the sea. But lately the humans have come. I'm not sure they even knew we were here, because they do not tend the land as we do. They just moved in, and took over the place we had loved for centuries."

  "Why didn't you fight for it?" asked Ida, amazed.

  Betula Nana chuckled. "Spoken like a Big person," she said. "Look at us—with what would we fight, even if we knew how? No, we had no choice but to retreat here, to this secret place which has been our haven all our lives. The Big Ones have burned the high grass, have undone everything we have done, have only planted the Oldest Sister, not the other two—"

  "Oldest sister?" Ven asked. His head was itching.

  Betula Nana nodded. "The corn is planted first, followed by beans, then squash between the rows," she said, pointing at the fields beyond the valley. "They are called the Three Sisters. They sustain each other, the earth, and us. But the Big Ones do not know that. They do not care for the earth, and its children, properly."

  "Is that why their food tastes strange?" Clemency asked.

  Betula Nana shrugged. "I would imagine," she said in her croaking voice. "When we farmed that same land, it gave to us in the same way it now gives to us here. The Gwadd love the earth beyond measure."

  In the corner of the little house, a tattoo on a tiny drum began to sound, followed a moment later by the sweet, high sound of a flute. One by one, the Gwadd gleefully gathered their strangelooking instruments and joined in, filling Auntie Hepatica's house with so much music that the party had to move outside. Soon the entire hidden valley was dancing, even the humans, Tuck, Ven, and the keekee.

  All exce
pt the merrow. She had found herself a quiet spot under a magnolia tree and was sitting there, watching the merriment, her face serene.

  The party grew larger and louder, past sunset and into the dusk hours, when stars began to appear in the darkening sky. A sliver of the waxing moon could be seen, hanging over the beautiful valley.

  Truly this is what the king means when he says that magic hides in plain sight, Ven thought, watching the revels. The happier and merrier the crowd grew, the more the flowers and trees blossomed, bursting with color and succulent nectar.

  Finally, as the evening wore into night, Tuck coughed politely between songs.

  "I'm sorry, but we really do need to be moving on," he said. "The horses need to be watered, and we should be on our way."

  The crowd of Gwadd made no sound, but the disappointment was so thick that Ven could feel it in the air. Beneath his feet, the wildflowers of the valley closed their petals and shrank back into the grass for the night.

  He went over to Auntie Hepatica, Betula Nana, and Cecil to say goodbye.

  "I hope we will get to see you again one day soon," he said sincerely. "This has been a lovely place to stop and rest on what has otherwise been a pretty trying journey."

  "Come back anytime," said Betula Nana. "Any friend of Saeli's is welcome here, as long as the Gwadd live in the valley. Thank you for bringing her home."

  "I hope the humans never find this place," said Ida.

  "Thank you," said Auntie Hepatica. "So do we."

  The companions each took a turn hugging Saeli goodbye, all except Ida, who coughed nervously.

  "We'll miss you," Ven said, taking his turn last. "If it's ever safe again, we will come back for you."

  Saeli smiled as Ven patted the keekee sitting on top of her head.

  "Don't hurry," she said in her rough voice.

  The children followed Tuck back up the switchback path, through the ivy curtain, and into the dull, dry fields again. The land beyond the curtain that had once seemed so lush and beautiful now was almost ugly to their sight.

  Ven waited until the others had climbed into the wagon, then helped boost Amariel in without protest. He sat down beside her and put his hand on her forehead, as his mother had done to him when he felt sick as a child. It was cool and dry, without a hint of a fever.

  "All right, what's going on?" he said quietly as the wagon began to rumble north toward the foothills of the High Reaches again. "You've not been yourself all day."

  Amariel blinked. "Who have I been?"

  "I don't know," Ven whispered, "but not a merrow, that's for certain." The second the words were out of his mouth, he regretted it. He looked over at the wagon board where Tuck was sitting, under his straw hat, driving the team, but the Lirin forester said nothing except for occasional clicks and encouragements to the horses.

  He put his hand on his pocket and felt around. Everything seemed normal, but Amariel was acting so strangely that he decided to see if the cap had been damaged. When everyone else was asleep or not looking, he unbuttoned the pocket and took out the jack-rule first, then the Black Ivory sleeve, and finally the handkerchief that had contained the merrow's cap.

  Which, to his horror, had mysteriously vanished, leaving in its place nothing but two empty handkerchiefs.

  16

  Things Get Uglier Still

  WHEN HE RECOVERED HIS VOICE, VEN REACHED OVER TO WHERE Ida was snoring and shook her violently.

  "All right, Ida," he said, trying to keep his voice under control. "Not funny. Where is it?"

  Ida yawned, opening her mouth as wide as a horse's.

  "What are you blathering about, Polywog?" she demanded sleepily.

  "Where is Amariel's cap?"

  "Hmmm?" Clem said, stirring. "Cap? What cap? What are you talking about?"

  Ida stared at Ven. "I dunno." A crooked smile played at the corners of her mouth.

  Ven's anger was rising faster than the smoke from the human settlement's fires. He had to struggle to keep from slapping her.

  "Where is it?" he demanded again.

  "I dunno," the Thief Queen's daughter repeated. "Not my turn to watch it. In fact, I don' think I've ever seen it."

  Ven grabbed her knapsack and began to rifle through it, spilling its contents all over the floor of the wagon. Ida scrambled to her feet and grabbed for it back.

  "Hey! What the heck do you think you're doin'?" she snarled. "Gimme my stuff!"

  Ven's anger boiled over. He turned the pack upside down and dumped everything left in the bag onto the wagon floor. He was too livid to notice that Tuck had clicked at the horses to slow to a halt. Instead he was rooting through Ida's collection of knives and juggling balls, dirty underwear, and snacks stolen from the provisions. He kicked aside a small wooden-headed doll, sending it spinning into the side of the wagon.

  Ida's shock melted into fury. With a howl of rage she threw herself at him and grabbed him around the neck. He was not prepared for her frontal assault, and she had both reach and leverage on him, so he fell over onto his back, helpless, while Ida banged his head repeatedly onto the wagon floor.

  "Whoa! All right, now, stop that." Tuck vaulted off the wagon board and into the back of the wagon. He pushed aside Char and Clem, who were frozen in shock, dragged Ida off Ven and interposed himself between them, ignoring her struggle to resume her pounding of Ven's head. Tuck, however, had both reach and leverage on her, so she remained in the front corner of the wagon, spitting and scratching like a cat until she changed her mind and began brutally kicking a sack of rutabagas.

  "What's all this about?" Tuck asked Ven, pulling him to his feet.

  "She stole something very important," Ven puffed. "I need it back, and I need it back now."

  The Lirin forester turned to Ida. "Did you?"

  The Thief Queen's daughter shrugged.

  "See? I told you. Give it back, you rotten, no-good, miserable—"

  "Stop that!" Char shouted. "You have no idea whether she stole the stupid cap, so stop insultin' her. What's the matter with you, Ven? It's like you're a different person these days. And whoever that guy is, he's someone I don' especially like."

  There was something in Char's words, in the tone of his voice, that stopped me in my tracks. Char had absolutely never yelled at me before in anger, and it was so strange to hear him do it that all my fury melted and ran off me like sweat.

  I stared at him in shock. Char was panting. Enraged as I had been, it was Char's voice that broke through the brick wall in my head and made me calm down.

  At least a little.

  Ven glanced over at Amariel. Throughout the ruckus she had remained calm, even when Ida was pounding his head into the floor. She had taken all the clothes out of her bundle, refolded them neatly, and was now packing them back up again.

  "Did you take the cap?" Ven asked Ida, his voice calmer.

  "Stuff it up your nose."

  Ven turned to Char, who looked away, then Tuck, who was watching him intently. "She took Amariel's cap—or someone else did."

  "Why don't we search the wagon?" Clemency suggested as Ida began picking up her undergarments and other possessions. "Maybe it fell off her head and got lost. What does it look like? I don't remember ever seeing her wearing a cap." She began helping Ida gather her belongings. When she came across the doll in the corner of the wagon, Ida snatched it away stuffed it back in her knapsack, glaring at Ven.

  "Give it back," Ven said to Ida.

  "Leave her alone," Clem commanded.

  "Stay out of this, Clem, unless you're the one who stole it."

  The curate-in-training's mouth dropped open.

  "Out," said Char, pointing to the ground. "Now, Ven."

  Ven stared at him, but upon seeing the determination in Char's eyes, he sighed, climbed out of the wagon and stepped away into the night.

  The cook's mate was behind him a moment later. He pushed Ven ahead of him until they were out of earshot of the wagon.

  "What in blazes do you think you
're doin'?" he demanded. "I'm your best friend, and I barely recognize you, Ven. Somethin' about that girl is turnin' you into a complete idiot! What is it? Tell me, right now, or I'm gonna choke it out of you."

  "I can't," Ven said, wishing he could keep silent.

  "Like heck." Char ran a hand through his straight dark hair, now soaking with angry sweat. "You tell me what's she's doin' to you, or I'm gonna ask her. An' I'm not gonna be nice about it."

  "No. Back off, Char, you—"

  "Stow it, Polypheme." The cook's mate's voice rang with an authority that sounded like the Captain's. "We came out here, in the middle of utterly nowhere, for you—to help you. The bloody Thief Queen is looking for all of us, because of you. And don't go gettin' all guilty about it—that's what friends do for other friends. So the least you can do is tell us what's goin' on. What is it? Tell me. That's an order."

  In spite of himself, Ven felt a small smile twitch the corners of his mouth. He looked back at the wagon, where everyone had sat back down again, then looked Char in the eye.

  "All right," he said finally. "You're my best friend, and I owe you that much."

  "Darn right," said Char flatly. "Tell me."

  Ven breathed out all the breath from his lungs. The new air he took in was sharp with smoke.

  "Amariel is not human," he said. "She's a merrow."

  Char looked blank. "A what?"

  Ven rolled his eyes. "Do you remember when we first met, after I was brought on board the Serelinda, half drowned?" Char nodded. "Think back. Do you remember how you told me you thought you saw a seal over the side?"

  "Oh, yeah," Char said, scratching his chin. "An' you said you thought it wasn't a seal, it was a mermaid."

  "A merrow," Ven corrected. "I told you I thought it was a merrow, because I had seen one. Remember?"

  "Yeah, I guess so."

  "Well, that was Amariel." Ven's face grew hot, telling the tale he had promised never to tell. "She's a merrow—you know, fish tail, scales up to her armpits—and she is the one who saved me from drowning when my father's ship and the Fire Pirates' vessel blew up."

  "Man," Char whistled.