“The markings on Sir Gareth’s hands?” Mr Aubrey’s voice was cold. “I made particular note of them. Those are undoubtedly the marks of dragon claws ... and in my experience, most modern dragons are not violent unless driven to it by fear.”
“And that burn?”
“Oh, as for that—!” Mr Aubrey broke off, breathing deeply. “Well. Until a week ago, I would have confidently assured you that real dragons do not breathe fire under any circumstances, regardless of what your uncle’s precious legends may claim. But after the week I’ve just endured ...”
“One moment, please.” The door to the family’s crowded library was open, and Rose had just spotted one of the household’s two maids curled up in an armchair in the far corner of the room, a novel in her hands, her dusting brush abandoned. “Carys! Did you see Sir Gareth leave the house?”
“How could I miss it?” Carys marked her place in the novel with one thumb as she shuddered. “Sent the chills up my back he did, stomping around just like that mad baron in Mrs Parry’s latest. And he slammed the door behind him like thunder! I thought he’d shake the old walls down. I’d wager Miss Serena’s on the right track for once, with all her talk about him and Dark Secrets. I shouldn’t like to look around all those cellars at Penryddn; there’s definitely more than spiders hiding in there nowadays!”
“I believe you’re right.” Had the red dragon been the only creature that he’d been secretly keeping and mistreating? Or had those marks been left by more than one beast?
“Did you know he won’t let any of his servants stop in at the local pub, even on their afternoons off? I had it off my mam the last time I saw her; Rhys from over the way was crying his eyes out over the injustice.”
“But why—? Oh, of course,” Rose said grimly. “He daren’t let their tongues be loosened by drink, in case they tell anyone else what he’s up to.”
“Hmmph.” Carys looked longingly back at her novel. “Well, unless the family needs me for anything at the moment ...”
“Not now, thank you. Only, please do let me know anything else you hear about Sir Gareth the next time you see your mother!” Rose closed the door behind her and turned, chewing thoughtfully on her lower lip. Carys was an absolute gem when it came to learning all the important gossip of the neighbourhood, but when it came to thinking up places that the dragon might have gone ...
“Clearly, any distance within the boundaries of this house is no great challenge to her,” Mr Aubrey said, once again falling into step with her thoughts. “We were in the converted chapel room – it had the best lighting for study – when she vanished and, only a few moments later, reappeared at your feet.”
“So she could be anywhere by now. Ugh!” Rose reached up to tug at her loose hair and had a bolt of inspiration. “Wait. She appeared directly at my feet when she came, so she was looking for me.”
“And she used that personal familiarity to pinpoint her target.” Mr Aubrey nodded. “Which other people or spaces might feel safe and familiar to her, if she was frightened by Sir Gareth’s voice and wished to flee?”
“As far as I know, everyone she’s ever met was gathered in that room by the end ... but perhaps Beth’s room? No, she vanished from there, too.” Rose winced. “Poor Beth. I should have believed her about that disappearance, just like—aha!” She turned around and started swiftly for the old buttery where Beth’s terrifying imagined monsters had been lurking in the first place.
The dragon had taken refuge there once before.
“But you didn’t notice any new golden swirls on her face when she appeared in the parlour?” There was a surprising edge to Mr Aubrey’s tone.
Rose frowned without breaking stride. “Certainly not. Why would you expect to see any?”
Mr Aubrey let out a wordless sound of deep frustration. “At least that would have made something about this particular dragon’s ... capabilities make some sense!”
“Don’t you mean her magic?” Rose had had no time to properly absorb that particular astonishment, what with everything else she’d been managing. Now, though, the sheer wonder of it filled her, as it had when she’d first gazed into the dragon’s golden eyes.
That sense of dream-like, reality-defying truth ... The pure thrill of such an expanded world of possibilities and—
“I do not care for the term ‘magic’,” Mr Aubrey muttered through clenched teeth. “It is no more than the lazy refusal to keep asking more difficult questions. In the end, everything must become explicable once properly observed and interpreted by natural philosophy.”
“Of course.” Rose sighed. Nowadays, she knew better than to indulge herself in that sort of dreaming. Still, a perverse flicker of rebellion forced her to add, “It certainly seems like magic, though.”
“Ha! If you had witnessed what I did last week ... wait!” Mr Aubrey drew to a halt just outside the closed door to the buttery, his brow furrowing in sudden consternation. “That young lady you spoke to some minutes ago—my mind was fixed on dragons at the time. What was her surname, if you please?”
“Carys’s surname?” Rose blinked, her hand hovering just above the door handle. “I’m afraid I can’t answer that question. How mortifying. I’ve never even thought to ask.” Her mother really would have been ashamed of her ... and that realisation sent a pang of loss and guilt through her chest, no less raw and painful now for all the many months that had passed.
Mama had known not only the full names of both of their servants but of every single resident of their village, along with all their family histories and quirky individual passions. That knowledge arose not merely from her duty as a vicar’s wife, but from her fierce and genuine passion for people, which had lit her like a torch and drawn them to her in return. Every day that Rose had known her, she had worked towards the safety and well-being of their community and expected all three of her daughters to do the same.
It hadn’t always been easy for Rose to meet those high expectations. Far too often – she flinched from the sting of memory – she had chosen instead to focus on her far more exciting dreams and wild, impractical aspirations, with her father’s indulgent support. But her older sister had always nudged her to do what was necessary while her younger sister had understood her when she couldn’t, and oh...
Once Rose had lost her sisters, too, that sinking white fog had made it impossible to see beyond herself at all.
She’d thought she had finally escaped the fog for good when she had walked outside this morning and felt the fresh air blow away its clinging tendrils. Now, she realised just how wrong she had been. It was still hovering just above her after all, ready to descend over her again at any moment, to encase her heart and mind in cool white clouds that blurred the world around her and took away all of the feelings that she still couldn’t bear ...
But the little dragon thought of her as safe. For the first time in months, she was needed.
Swallowing hard over the choking knot of memory, Rose took hold of the door handle in a firm grip. “If you need to know more about either of our maids, sir, I’m sure Aunt Parry—”
