The Last of the Firedrakes (19 page)

They both ignored me, and Rafe went on. “Something understated; she must blend in.”

Magdalene nodded. “Absolutely,” she said, as she leaned over to me.

Before I knew what she was doing, she ran her hands over my hair, and then one hand over my eyes and face.

“Done,” she said.

“What’s done?” I asked, bewildered. What had she done to me?

I looked around for a mirror, and Magdalene took a small silver one from a nearby shelf and handed it to me. I clasped the silver handle and brought it to my face. I was aghast; she had changed my beautiful black hair to a mousy brown color. Gone were my raven-black locks. I touched the back of my head and only felt a soft mop of short cropped hair. She had cut off my hair! And my eyes . . . instead of emerald-green, they were brown, and not a nice brown; it was a bit like the color of mud speckled with dirt. I hated this look. It was just not me.

I looked up at Magdalene. “Couldn’t you have made me blonde and blue eyed?” I asked hopefully.

Magdalene chuckled. “We want you to blend in, not stick out like a sore thumb,” she said.

Rafe nodded solemnly. “Yes, Magdalene. This is perfect.”

“Now she looks nothing like Azaren or Elayna and looks quite unobtrusive, thank you,” said Aunt Serena, inspecting me closely.

“Glad to be of service, my dears,” said Magdalene, still chuckling to herself.

I looked over at Erien. He made a face but said nothing. I looked horrid and so plain that even if Rafe had any inclination towards me, he would not anymore.

“We must be on our way,” said Aunt Serena, getting up. “It’s a long way to Greystone, and I want to get there before nightfall. At least we will be able to sleep in a proper bed tonight.”

I was glad to hear that. Camping under the stars was okay for a few nights, but I didn’t want to make a habit of it.

“I am so glad that you brought this child to see me,” said Magdalene. “I never thought I would ever get to see a fae-mage again.” She stood up and turned to me, taking my face between her leathery hands. “You have a great destiny, little one. Choose your battles wisely, and do not let your pride get the better of you. A wise queen is a just and humble one.”

We all thanked Magdalene and rode off through the forest, towards the town of Greystone, where we would be able to spend the night and pick up supplies.

Soon we reached the gates of the little town, which was surrounded by moderately high, but crumbling stone walls. It was situated on the banks of the Pinebrook River, which wound its way through the Dewberry Valley and into the Stardust Sea. A small castle rose up near the town walls. It looked run down and quite bleak, very different from Silverthorne Castle.

“Who lives in that castle?” I asked Rafe, as he rode up beside me.

“It belongs to the marquis of Greystone,” said Rafe, “but he lives mainly at his townhouse in the city of Neris near the palace. His steward runs the estates and the town. Normally your aunt would stay at the castle, but this time I have made other arrangements in the town itself. It’s better that no one knows we are here.”

“What about you?” I asked. “Won’t someone recognize you without your mask?”

“No one really knows me here. I will keep my hood on,” said Rafe. “Don’t worry. You are safe with me.”

“I wasn’t worried about myself,” I said, embarrassed as soon as I said it.

Rafe smiled. “I know,” he said and winked at me as he rode forward towards the town gates.

A guard was at his post, but he was asleep. Rafe did something with his hand, and the man woke up with a start. He looked down at us from his post on the gatehouse.

“Who goes there?” he said with a sleepy voice. “Don’t you people know the gates don’t open until morning? Go away and come back tomorrow. We don’t open the gates to strangers and . . .”

Rafe held out some gleaming gold coins that shimmered in the moonlight. The guard’s eyes widened, and he grinned at Rafe.

“I shall open the gate right away, milord,” said the guard, scurrying to open a smaller gate. We led the horses through on foot.

The little town was asleep as we walked quickly through the deserted streets. A few lanterns were still burning, but most had lived out their lives. Two stray dogs ran by, and one tried to snap at the heels of my horse, but Rafe shooed them away. Tiny cobblestone paths crossed and intersected in a maze of streets. Badly constructed wooden houses with patched roofs were crammed together, the upper floors almost touching each other, creating a tunnel passage over the street below. This was not like the clean, whitewashed town of Fairlone. Greystone was much smaller, more like a village, and very dreary.

“That is the town hall,” said Erien, pointing to a large, rickety, two-storied house with a crumbling roof and battered walls.

“It looks so rundown,” I said, looking around as we crossed the deserted town square.

“That’s because many of the townspeople have left and moved south to Calos or Mirin or any of the other villages on the southern coast,” explained Rafe.

“Why?” I asked, always interested to learn what I could about Avalonia.

“This was once quite a prosperous town, but Greystone is too close to the Illiadorian border,” Rafe answered.

I nodded, understanding. Morgana’s terror was slowly moving into Eldoren too.

As we walked through the quiet, sleeping town, I felt like someone or something was watching me, and I glanced back twice. It was as if some presence was boring into my back, but when I turned there was nothing there but shadows. Rafe did not seem to notice anything unusual, so I decided not to say anything. Maybe it was just my tired mind playing tricks on me.

We came at last to a large wooden house two stories high. Above the heavy wooden door was a sign:
The Dancing Daisy Inn
. Rafe knocked once and waited. A short, fat little man opened the door. He was wearing his nightclothes and looked very sleepy and angry to be woken at this hour. But when he saw Rafe, his eyes widened and he gave a short bow, silently ushering us in.

“I have your rooms ready,” he said, as Erien, Aunt Serena and I followed him up the rickety wooden stairs. Rafe came up behind us.

The inn was a warm, cozy, well-kept place. It was basic, but better than what I expected from it. Four unpolished wooden doors lined the small pokey corridor on the first floor of the inn. The little man led us into the first one, unlocking the door and opening it ever so carefully, as if he were opening the door to a treasure chamber.

“Thank you, Bumbletree,” said Rafe, jovially patting the man on the back, setting him at ease. The little man bowed again and continued bustling about the room, closing windows, and tidying up.

The innkeeper showed me to my room, which I was sharing with Aunt Serena. It was small but comfortable, sparsely decorated with a frayed crimson rug on the otherwise bare floor. Two wooden beds with fresh sheets lay by the wall under the window, and a desk and chair were placed next to it. Across the room, a small candle lantern, half-burnt, lay on the little dresser, and a comfortable armchair that was patched in many places stood beside it.

The room was relatively clean and tidy, and I was too tired to be fussy. I washed in the copper basin with the jug of water and rough cloth that was left in the room and lay down on the bed.

My body was aching all over from spending the whole day in the saddle. I loved riding, and when I was little my parents would take me riding in the country, but I was not used to being on top of a horse for more than an hour at a time. My thighs were in agony, and my hands were blistered. I wondered if I would even be able to walk the next day.

Aunt Serena was asleep before I knew it. But I lay in bed thinking about the days to come. My thoughts whirled around in my head. Names of people I had never met, places I had never seen, and my change of name and identity.

I rolled over in my hard bed, trying to get some sleep, but I was upset and a little frightened. Starting a new school was going to be a challenge. I was not a very outgoing person, and I wondered what the other students would be like. Would I find anyone to be friends with? Even if I did, I would have to lie about who I really was.

Nothing could be worse than what I suffered at my old school, I told myself. At least here I had a fresh start, without Cornelia to make my life hell. In fact, thinking about Cornelia didn’t bother me anymore; Morgana was now definitely the one I had to watch out for. At least in Evolon, I would be safe for a while until I learned how to wield my magic.

I clutched the gold amulet around my neck and looked at it closely for the umpteenth time. Who knew that such a small thing could be so powerful? I slipped it back under my shirt. Finally I fell into a quiet sleep, without dreams of gleaming daggers or Morgana.

The next morning I woke quickly, got out of bed, and went over to the window. The sun was shining, and it was a crisp spring day. The sleepy, deserted town of last night was now a colorful, bustling place. I opened the wood-framed window, and, from my window seat, I could see everything that was happening in the streets below.

Different colored stalls and traveling vendors had parked their wares at various street corners, which led out from the town square. The main street was busy, noisy, and full of people haggling over prices and carefully choosing the best items.

Some of the men were dressed in dull, old clothes and looked like they were going about their daily work. There were women in dreary, homespun wool dresses and linen bonnets, who were chatting away at street corners with baskets filled with fruits and vegetables hanging on their arms. Children dressed in patched, ill-fitting clothes, many looking very poor and underfed, were running about in the crowded streets.

There were shops and multicolored outdoor stalls selling all kinds of delicious-looking fruits and vegetables, flowers, and even pots and pans. There was also a small group of entertainers who were putting on a show for the people in the town square.

I washed my face and dressed quickly. Aunt Serena had already left the room, and I wasn’t really sure what I should do. Should I wait for her to come and call me? She hadn’t said anything last night, so I decided to go check on Erien. Or at least I told myself that it was Erien I was searching for. He wasn’t in his room either, and neither was Rafe. I warily went downstairs to ask the friendly innkeeper where everyone was. They were probably having breakfast. But why hadn’t they woken me?

The main room of the inn was bustling with life and full of diverse people. A few long tables and benches were arranged round the room. No one took any notice of me, and I sat down at the nearest table. The smells of freshly baked bread filled my nostrils, and I realized that I was absolutely famished.

Over by the window, three extremely loud men were drinking something green and frothy from big wooden mugs, which they flailed around in the air while talking. A middle-aged woman with two children was sitting on the bench next to them, and she seemed to be having a very hard time trying to get her wailing offspring to eat. A few others still wearing their cloaks had sat down and were quietly eating breakfast, but Aunt Serena and Erien were not there.

The innkeeper saw me and hurried over. “Apologies, my lady; the others didn’t want to wake you, and the countess said she would be back soon. Would you like something to eat?”

I nodded. My heart started beating faster. Where had Aunt Serena gone? Surely she wouldn’t leave me stranded and ride off? I shook my head and laughed at myself for being silly.

The innkeeper brought over a basket of fresh bread with a bowl of freshly churned white butter, a whole honeycomb on a wooden plate, and a small pot of a red berry jam, which was delicious. He also produced a big bowl of freshly picked strawberries and with it a jug of thick yellow cream. I ate furiously; everything was delicious, and who knew when I would get my next meal?

I was just finishing my third helping of strawberries and cream when Aunt Serena and Rafe came back to the inn. A few of the people in the inn looked over at us, but quickly resumed their own business. Aunt Serena sat down next to me, but Rafe stood. He didn’t take off his cloak, and he still had his hood on.

“Did you have a good rest?” he asked me nonchalantly. He looked like his mind was somewhere else.

I nodded. My mouth was still full.

“Have you finished your breakfast?” Aunt Serena asked me. “We should get going. It’s still a long way to Evolon.”

“Where’s Erien?”

“Seeing to the horses,” said Aunt Serena.

I nodded again, took a piece of buttered bread, and got up.

Rafe turned to the innkeeper. “I have something I want you to do for me, Bumbletree,” he said softly.

“I am always at your service, milord,” he said.

Rafe nodded and gave him a sealed scroll. “See that it is delivered to our mutual friend,” he said simply.

The little man nodded back and tucked the scroll into his apron pocket.

I was curious. Mutual friend? Who was this mutual friend, and what was in that scroll? I decided to ask him later, when he was in a better mood. At the moment both Rafe and Aunt Serena looked very preoccupied.

“I would advise you to take the old road,” said the little man to Rafe quietly, as I put on my cloak. “The king’s road has blue cloaks patrolling all the way south.”

“Blue cloaks?” I asked, turning to Rafe.

Rafe nodded. “The King of Eldoren’s elite guard,” he said. “We will keep to the inner roads.”

Aunt Serena nodded, agreeing with him. “But why are the blue cloaks here? The king is in Neris,” she said.

The little man lowered his head and nodded. “Yes, he is, my lady. But there is something else you should know.” He paused, looked around and said, “The Shadow Guard have been seen prowling about these parts. There were six of them seen just north of here last moon tide.”

“Six!” hissed Aunt Serena, horrified.

The little man nodded. “They say that the Shadow Guard have been roaming the southern lands more frequently now. They have even been seen as far south as the villages in the valley. They seem to be searching for someone, a girl. Supposedly with long, jet-black hair and eyes like a cat,” he added and looked at me for a second before he turned back to Aunt Serena. “That’s why the blue cloaks are out in full force; the Shadow Guard have to be kept in check.”