WINDOWS: A BROKEN FAIRY TALE (6 page)

The pink one gave
a drunken sneer.
 
“You’re right.
 
He was just being friendly.
 
Of course, Daniel has been known to be
friendly with plenty of women.

“Hey, aren’t you
the girl who shoes our horses?”
 
The girl
on the left slurred with a cruel laugh.
 
The other two mimicked her with mean chortles of their own.

“I believe so,
yes.”
 
Sarah answered, still trying to be
polite.

The gaggle of
girls erupted in laughter at that.
 
The
noise carried over the band and everyone around them stopped what they were
doing and watched with interest.
 
Knowing
she was about to lose her temper, Sarah turned and tried to walk away.

The one in pink
reached out and grabbed her arm roughly, spinning her back around.
 
“Don’t you dare turn your back on us.”
 
The woman was swaying slightly on her feet,
bloodshot eyes barely focusing.

“Yeah,” The one of
the right chortled in a high pitched whine, sending shivers down Sarah’s spine
like nails on a chalkboard. “Why don’t you stay and maybe you can shoe our
horse for us right now.”

Sarah had just
about as much as she could stand and spit out, “Why, didn’t they come with that
hideous pink dress you’ve already stuck her in?”

The pink dressed
girl’s eyes flared angrily.
 
“Do you know
who you are talking to, you low born blacksmith?”
 
She started to say something else but a
venomous voice cut the tirade short.

“Right off hand, I
bet she thinks she’s talking to a flamingo that somehow escaped from a nearby
zoo.
 
Is that about right, Sarah?”

Shaking with rage,
her jaws clenched so tight they almost hurt, Sarah nodded slowly in response.
 
Never in her life had she spoken to a member
of the upper crust like that but she had been pushed to far.
 
The three girls glared at the redhead in the
purple ball gown as she stood beside the target of their barbs.

“Raven.”
 
The flamingo snarled, baring her teeth.

Raven’s right
eyebrow arched.
 
Despite her voice not
raising an octave, it carried clearly over the low hum of the gala.
 
“It seems you have forgotten your place,
Patricia.
 
My name is Lady Branwyen, and
as you well know people of a lower class are not to speak in such familiar
terms with those of a higher social ranking unless given permission.
 
I do not recall allowing you that
familiarity, nor do I believe I ever will.
 
Apologize to both myself and my escort.”

 
Like a serpent Raven’s word slithered through
the air.
 
The threat behind it was
unmistakable.
 
“Now.”

A small crowd had
formed a semi-circle around them, Sarah noticed, feeling uneasy now that her
anger was starting to abate a little.
 
A
quiet murmur rippled through the congregation as the five women stared at each
other.
 
Sarah glanced at the redhead out
of the corner of her eye.
 
Raven stood
fully erect, arms folded across her chest with a contemptuous look on her face.

“I apologize, Lady
Branwyen.
 
Mandy told us”, Patricia, or
the Flamingo as Sarah would always think of her after this night, indicated the
two crones standing behind her, “to think of her family as our friends.”

The look of
disgust on Raven’s face matched her tone.
 
“My younger sister is not here nor does she speak for me.”

The Flamingo
nodded with down cast eyes and spoke to her feet.
 
“Forgive my impertinence, Lady.”

“And to my
friend?’
 
Flashing emeralds darted
meaningfully from the three girls to Sarah.

The gangly
creature standing behind Patricia’s shoulder decided that she would point out
Sarah was just a commoner, and that they had no need to apologize to a
blacksmith.

The flamingo
picked up on that idea quickly, thinking she could turn the tables again.
 
“Yes, Lady Branwyen,” she spoke in a nerve
grating squeal, using Raven’s full title in a mocking tone, “according to you,
as she is beneath our social class, she should apologize to us for speaking as
she did.”
 
The heavy set girl jutted her
chin out in defiance and stared with renewed arrogance at Raven and Sarah.

That was the last
straw.
 
Sarah had enough and she was
going to give these people a piece of her mind, even managing a small step
forward.
 
Before she could speak, long
fingers wrapped around her arm, stopping her.

A vicious smile
that never reached her eyes twisted Raven’s lips.
 
“Earlier today this, ‘common blacksmith’, as
you called her, agreed to enter a business partnership with me.”
 
Raven breathed slowly through her nose,
“Sarah now has the full power of the Chandlish name and wealth at her
disposal.
 
In short she has more money at
this moment than all three of your families combined.”

Raven paused for a
second to let this bit of information sink in.
 
She enjoyed watching the jaws of all three girls hit the floor at
once.
 
“Although, to be honest,” she
finished, saving the final twist of the knife for a moment when all could hear,
“even if Sarah had refused my offer she would still be worth more than any of
you.”

Turning on her
heel and forcing Sarah to do the same with a gentle tug on the elbow, Raven sauntered
nonchalantly away.
 
She did not like
Patricia or her little sycophants in the least and thoroughly enjoyed knocking
them down a few pegs.

After walking a
few steps, Raven grabbed Sarah by the waist.
 
Sarah barely had time to recognize the dance floor before being twirled
around.

“What?
 
I wanna dance.”
 
Raven exclaimed, noticing the look of shock
on Sarah’s face.

Sarah let herself
be spun across the floor.
 
Which one is
the real one, she wondered as she studied Raven’s face.
 
Less than a minute ago Raven had been vain
and spiky, as cold and distant as the moon.
 
Now she was grinning, a sincere smile that brightened her face like the
sun.

CHAPTER
5: GOING HOME

           
“La la la.”
 
The girl sang a nonsensical song as she poked
a finger at a new portrait that had appeared on the wall during the night.
 
Its frame gleamed with polish and the light
from the three remaining windows struck it at an angle that seemed to make it
almost glow.

           
In the back of the room, the shadow
waited silently.
 
Soon its time would be
here.
 
Very, very soon.

           
The
sun peeked through the large window in the hotel room, hitting Sarah’s eyes and
dragging her out of a wonderful dream where she had been dancing with the
handsomest man she’d ever met.
 
With a
few words she wouldn’t have dared uttered in the company she kept last night,
the blonde dragged herself off the most comfortable bed she had ever slept in
and began getting ready for the day.
 
She
still had to pack all of her clothes and a five day ride to Valentria to look
forward to.
 
At least, she thought to
herself, she’d have a chance to ask Lady Branwyen a few more questions.

           
Before
she was half way done, Sarah heard a knock from the door.
 
She opened it a crack to see Raven standing
there dressed in purple with a huge smile on her face.
 
Sarah wondered, and not for the last time,
how someone could be so cheerful first thing in the morning but instead of
asking, barely managed a sleepy hello.
 
Bursting through the door, already a full of energy, Raven fired off
questions rapidly, asking Sarah how she slept, if she was ready, if she wanted
breakfast.

           
The
blonde watched with blurry eyes as the redhead bounced from one side of the
spacious room to the other.
 
“Do we have
time to get some breakfast before the train leaves?”
 
She croaked, her mouth still dry and sticky
from the night’s sleep.

           
Raven,
who was intently studying a painting on the wall, grinned crookedly and said
they had plenty of time.
 
“The car is
waiting for us down stairs.
 
I’ll see you
in a little bit.”
 
And just as quickly as
she entered, she bounded out the door again.

           
An
hour later, Sarah stood looking around at the dingy shop.
 
It wasn’t much but it had been her home for
the last five years.
 
She had worked very
hard here and eventually came to enjoy it.
 
With a final farewell she walked out the door into a new world.

           
After
they ate breakfast Sarah fully expected to head for the train station.
 
All of her meager belongings were packed in a
small duffel bag that fit easily in the seat between her and Raven.
 
The tools in the shop belonged to Mr. Jackson
so all she carried were clothes and few personal affects.
 
She resigned herself to the long ride that
was waiting, but instead the driver stopped at a secluded spot outside of town.
 
Both girls got out and after Raven paid him,
the driver left them alone.
 

           
“Are
you going to tell me why you lied about who you are?”
 
Sarah broached the subject that had been rankling
her nerves as they watched the car vanish in the distance.

           
“Would
you have believed a daughter of the most famous house of nobility in Florence was asking you to
go into business?”

           
Sarah
agreed that if she had received a letter from one of the Chandlish clan she
would have thought it some kind of bad joke.
 
“I’ll give you that one, but why aren’t we at the train station?”
 
She was really curious about this one.
 
“I don’t think they’re going to lay down new
tracks just because you’re nobility.”

           
Smiling
over her shoulder, Raven said.
 
“I don’t
ride trains because they take way to long.
 
Close your eyes; I have a surprise for you.”

           
The
idea of another surprise worried Sarah a little as she closed her eyes.
 
What could possibly surprise her after
everything that happened yesterday?
 
She
heard Raven give a sharp whistle.
 
Sarah
felt a breeze blow softly through her hair and heard a muffled thump.

           
“Okay,
open ‘em.”

           
Sarah
did so and froze in fear.
 
A dragon, a
very large and very black dragon, was laying there, its head resting on
enormously clawed front paws while the serpentine tail curled and uncurled
itself lazily around the trunk.
 
Great
leathery wings folded neatly along the monster’s side and its eyes watched her
intently.
 
Sarah was much more concerned
about the teeth though.
 
Dazzlingly white
and incredibly sharp looking, they were each about the size of her hand and
there were quite a few of them.

           
“Bryson,
Sarah.
 
Sarah, Bryson.”
 
Raven provided introductions.

           
“Enchanted
my dear.”
 
The dragon’s words rolled off
his tongue like boulders down a mountain.

           
“The
pleasure is mine, Bryson.”
 
It was a
testament to Sarah’s adaptability that she didn’t faint or scream, both of
which seemed perfectly logical reactions to being face to face with a 30 foot
winged monster that could removes one’s head with barely a passing thought.

           
“Bryson
is my familiar.”
 
Raven explained,
rubbing the dragon’s neck.
 
“And since
everybody knows everybody, let’s head home.”

           
“You
know I require a tribute before someone’s first flight.”
 
The large head swung to face Sarah, who stuttered
to ask what tribute a poor blacksmith could provide such a noble creature.
 
Bryson laughed with the sound of thunder.

           
“I
have always enjoyed the attention of a comely maiden.
 
It would do this old dragon’s heart good if
he could have but a small kiss.”
 
Bryson
twisted slightly away from Sarah, offering his left cheek to her while Raven fussed
disapprovingly.
 
Sarah smiled and bent
forward, planting her lips on the dragon’s scaly face.
 
The scales were rough against her skin but
not unpleasant.

           
“Don’t
let him fool you Sarah.
 
He’s not
‘old’.”
 
Raven rebuked while giving
Bryson’s head an affectionate pat.

           
The
dragon looked offended, or as offended as a dragon could look, and pointed out
that he was two hundred and twenty seven years old which made him quite a bit
older than either of the young ladies keeping him company.
 
Raven argued that dragons lived thousands of
years so he couldn’t pass himself off as an ‘old’ anything.
 
Sarah laughed and asked if they shouldn’t be
leaving soon so the redhead and the dragon stopped their friendly banter.

Raven swung
herself up onto the dragon’s muscular neck and reached her hand out.
 
Sarah pulled herself up behind, wrapping her
arms tightly around Raven’s waist.
 
Serious
second thoughts about this idea rushed into Sarah’s mind and she was about to
voice those concerns when her stomach gave an unpleasant lurch and they were
airborne.

‘I’m gonna die,
I’m gonna die, I’m gonna die.
 
Sarah
repeated the mantra over and over as she closed her eyes tightly against the
wind and stomach churning fear.
 
Suddenly
the unpleasant shaking stopped and all she could feel was the cool wind in her
face and the muscles of Bryson’s wings rhythmically undulating underneath.

           
“How’re
you doing back there, Sarah?”
 
Raven
asked.

           
Sarah
responded by burying her face in Raven’s back and hugging tighter.
 

           
“You
really should look around you.
 
Not many
people get a view like this in their lifetime.”

           
Steeling
her resolve, Sarah opened her eyes.
 
The
sight took her breath away.
 
To their
right, the sun gleamed orange over a sea of puffy white clouds.
 
To her left, she could see Vestavia stretched
out to the other horizon with the ever present gray smog of pollution hanging
over it.
 
“This is amazing.”
 
She finally managed to say, still staring
blankly at the world she knew from an unaccustomed angle.

           
Raven
laughed, “Glad you like it.
 
When you’re
a little more comfortable, why don’t we ask Bryson to show off a bit?”

           
Though
she didn’t exactly care for the way that sounded, Sarah got the feeling she was
going to see Bryson show off sooner or later so she might as well get it over
with.
 
“Let’s do it now.”
 
No sooner than the words left her mouth, she realized
her mistake.

           
Bryson
started out by turning over and flying upside down.
 
Sarah felt everything she had ever eaten
starting to come back up while Raven cackled loudly.
 
Bryson responded by doing a few loops in the
air and Sarah found herself actually beginning to enjoy the sensation.

           
Then
the world fell out from underneath them, or at least that’s what it felt like
to the poor girl who had never flown on back of a mythological creature
before.
 
Bryson was in a nose dive,
heading straight for the ground.
 
Sarah
screamed at the top of her lungs.

Raven just kept
laughing.
 
“Hunker down like this,” She
instructed, lowering her torso on top of the dragons neck, “and hold on tight!”

           
Sarah
wondered who in the hell would want to offer less wind resistance when the
ground was rushing up to meet them at such an unexpectedly quick pace.
 
They were in a valley she had never seen
before now, the jagged peaks racing skywards to either side but Bryson was
still plummeting.
 
Sarah could see
individual trees now.
 
They couldn’t be
more than a hundred feet off the ground.
 
Seventy feet now and she could see rocks.
 
Forty feet and she thought she spotted an
anthill at the place there were going to crash.
 
She braced for an impact that never came.
 
At twenty feet, Bryson spread his wings and
they raced along, not more than a yard above the valley floor, hurtling towards
a wall of dark granite.
 
Sarah barely had
time to recognize the new danger, so she didn’t scream as Bryson rocketed
upwards just before hitting the stone.
 
In seconds they were back above the clouds, the blonde trembling in
relief, the redhead and dragon both roaring joyfully.

           
“Are
you ok, Sarah?”
 
There was laughter in
Bryson’s voice.

           
“If
you fell something warm on your back, I just spilled my coffee.”
 
Sarah muttered, which set the other two off
again.

           
The
trio settled down as they winged their way to Valentria, a patchwork of tan fields
passing below them.
 
A short while later
Raven turned to Sarah.
 
“You realize
you’re safer up here than you are anywhere on the ground, right?
 
Now that you’re our friend, neither of us
would let anything happen to you.”

           
Sarah
smiled, the sun twinkling in her gray eyes, “I know.
 
And thank you.”

           
The
warmth of the morning sun and the rhythmic beating of wings soon lulled Sarah
to sleep.
 
She had no idea how much time
had passed when she was awoken by Raven leaning forward.

           
“Bryson,
what is that?” Sarah and the dragon both looked off to the left to where Raven
was pointing.
 
A black blob was sharing
the sky with them.
 
Bryson’s eyes
narrowed and he said that it appeared to be the Prime Minister’s zeppelin.

“You think Richard
is on that thing?”
 
Raven asked.

           
Bryson
sarcastically retorted that since Richard was always with the PM, he was
probably on board.
 
The redhead rubbed
her chin thoughtfully for a moment and mentioned that it would be inhospitable
if they didn’t at least say howdy.
 

“Besides,” Raven nodded
dutifully, “he owes Sis ten gullions.
 
She told me to bring it back or not to come home.”