Kazeic, reserved as always, gave Aevrin’s side a quick nudge with his scaled muzzle before sitting up on his haunches to tower over them all. Tail lashing, Kazeic gave Cobrid a judgmental look. When Cobrid at last came to a stop, her tail curled in a loose circle around where the woman stood, Cassia reached forward to tentatively pat Cobrid’s heavy red jaw. The juvenile’s whole body shuddered. Cobrid hummed happily. Aevrin couldn’t help but nod in satisfaction. Apparently, the dragons weren't going to sulk about him taking in a houseguest. AndCassia had looked stiff, but not scared witless like some people got, even people who’d lived in Zhavek their whole lives.
Then Kazeic, as if to sayenough of this foolishness, took off charging around the house, and Cobrid uncurled herself to follow, not quite able to keep up. Every third step Kazeic snapped opened his wings with athwakto skim over the ground, making Cobrid work harder to catch him. Her immature wings flexed open and shut experimentally as she ran.
The dragons took their jobs seriously: selling cows meant getting gold, after all, and they had their cut just like the humans of the family did. The cattle were good as their treasure horde, and there was a lot of territory to guard. No time to waste on a girl who hadn't proved a threat. Aevrin chanced a look at Cassia. She was tight-lipped and staring fearfully at the house’s doorway as if unsure what she'd find inside. As if it might be more intimidating than dragons.
She trailed a few steps behind him as he headed up the wide stone steps of the wrap-around porch.
“Hungry?” he asked as he tugged open the front door.
“A little,” she admitted.
“Good.” He watched her crane her head stiffly to take in the busy entryway, with its coat rack and hat stand, the neat lineup of a half-dozen different sized pairs of boots and clogs, and a wall stamped all over with block-printed flowers. A large cross-stitch his great-grandpa had done while laid up with a broken leg hung next to the coat rack:Take Your Damned Shoes Off, Dorria.His great-gramma Dorria had tried two dozen times to get it taken down with no success, as his father told it.
He saw Cassia's shoulders relax a little, still forcing himself to watch her from the corner of his eyes instead of drinking her in straight-on like he wanted.
“I’ll fix us something, then show you Ash’s room.” He took off his hat and hung it up on the empty rack. This time of day, everyone but his Gramma would be out in the fields, where he really ought to be too. But it wasn’t exactly an ordinary day.
“Ash is your sister?” Cassia asked, trailing him around the corner into the sunny kitchen. The messy counter wrapped around three walls. The wash basin was stacked so full of dishes they nearly obscured the deep window with its wide valley view. The thickness of their stone walls were insulating, designed to see them through firestorms and ice rain alike without the temperature turning uninhabitable or the stone cracking through.
“Yup. Ashelle,” he said.
A small table sat against the fourth wall, used often despite being too small for the family to gather at. Just now it was cluttered with dirty ceramic mugs, a bull-bridle that needed repair, and a whetstone.
“But won’t she mind?” Cassia fingered the back of one of the table’s chairs like she was nervous to pull it out and sit.
“Nah.” The preservation chest, three feet tall and four feet wide, was marked with sigils to keep away rot and mold. A group of potted plants sat on the shelf behind it, half their flexible roots submerged in the soil and the other half stretching out to wrap around the chest’s base and lid and feed it magic. He raised the lid carefully and rummaged through the insides for something easy to make. “You can sit. Just push all that crap to the side.”
“I think I’d kill my brother if he gave out my room to a stranger,” she said, taking the seat daintily but not moving anything off the counter. Aevrin looked straight at her in surprise that she’d volunteered any details about herself. The expression on her face looked just as startled. Like she’d reel the words right back in if she could.
“You got a brother?” he asked, nonchalant as he could muster. He wiped a cast-iron pan clean-ish with a rag and built the embers below the stove back to a flame.
Cassia bit her lip and nodded, but didn’t answer more than that. He scooped a pat of butter into the pan. On one side he laid down two griffon steaks that must have been from last night’s dinner. On the other he spooned a glob of crushed yellow carrot, patting it down to fill the empty space. He tossed the containers back into the preservation chest and set the dirty spoon he’d used next to the stove, avoiding the tacky spot on the counter from Saints-knew-what meal.
“Would you like any help?” she offered a minute later.
“Nah. Rest up.”
Aevrin’s eyes kept closing as he stood in front of the stove. If it weren't for the woman in his kitchen, he would have just eaten it cold and fallen into bed, but that would've been bad manners. When he could wait no longer, he dumped it onto two plates he didn't even recognize seeing before and carried them to the table. He pushed over the mess with his elbows, set down the plates, and returned back with cutlery and water for them both.
Cassia frowned down at her food.
“Thank you. I really don’t know how I’m supposed to pay you back.”
“You aren’t,” Aevrin said, dropping into the chair and attacking his meal with fork and knife.
“Well, that’s not…” Cassia fiddled with her fork, still frowning. Then she set it down and put her hands beneath the table. “Whydid you pay my healer’s fees?”
“Needed to be paid.” He shrugged, and shoveled more food into his mouth.
“I’ll pay you back,” she said firmly. “It might take me time, but I will. At the bank rate.”
He paused to swallow and take a gulp of water. She was staring at him, her amber eyes wide, like she wanted him to see how earnestly she meant it. He let himself stare back, drinking in details he couldn't properly see from the edge of his gaze. The purple bruises on the side of her face filled him with a burning anger.
“WayIsee it, Miss Cassia, you ain’t the one who owes me money,” Aevrin told her pointedly. “If some bastard wants to pay up, I’ll gladly make him, you just say the name. Butyoudon’t owe me a cent for what was done to you.”
Cassia’s eyes widened. Her shoulders shrank in on her as she bent back down to her plate. Cursing himself silently for being too straightforward, Aevrin scowled and took another bite of half-heated, cold on the inside meat. He hadn’t meant to bring up whatever man hurt her.
Even if shewasa rustler’s girl, nobody deserved to be beaten and left in the mountains. If Averin had been in that spot even one day later, there would have been no trace of her left. His hands itched to see justice delivered. If only she’d point a finger to who’d done it.Vengeancewas a new emotion for him, but then, someone being beaten and dumped in his mountains was just as new.
