I shook my head. “It doesn’t seem like it. At least, Shade doesn’t.” We’d all reverted to calling him Shade instead of Erebus. I was secretly glad for it—his true name was too intimidating.
“Gods,” Tommins uttered. He straightened. “Feels wrong saying that now.”
“Blasphemous,” Fiella agreed. “I kind of like it.”
“You would,” I said, humor creeping into my voice.
“Should we make him stay in the dungeon? Let him out?” Kizzi asked.
Tommins considered this. “Where has he been staying?”
I tilted my head. “I sent him your way weeks ago when he asked for accommodations. Did he ever rent a cottage?”
“No,” Tommins said. “He never rented anything.”
“So where has he been staying?” Kizzi asked.
“In the woods?” I guessed. The idea made me sad.
“Did he break in somewhere?” Tandor asked.
“This is a mess,” Redd mumbled.
“Do you think he’ll stay in the dungeon if we ask nicely?” Fiella suggested.
“I bet he would stay if Ginger asked him,” Tandor said matter-of-factly. His cheek twitched.
I glared at him. “Why don’t we just give him a choice? If he flees, he flees, and then he’s not our problem anymore. And if he does something evil, we’ll… we’ll deal with it. And hope he really has weakened in his time away...”
“Not a bad idea,” Linc agreed. I’d nearly forgotten the human was here.
“Cheers to that.”
I stood from my stool, grabbing the empty pitcher of cider. “I’ll ask him after I close up today. Tommins, Fiella, send the missive to the King. And the fates will take it from there.”
“Fair.”
I left my friends to finish their drinks as I returned to the kitchen, hoping that the flow of normal work would distract me from the conflicted thoughts churning in my mind and the bizarre, lingering smell of jasmine.
As the temperature of the air tugged in the direction of warmth, Brambleby began to spend more time outside.
The freeze season was drifting away slowly, and with it, the small dragon seemed to have more energy.
He still napped an absurd amount, and was outrageously sleepy, but he played more. Wandered further. Wrestled with his siblings with more fervor.
I was so proud of him it nearly brought a tear to my eye.
He even ate more, constantly begging for more stew when I served him some. I had a suspicion that the dragons also hunted small critters in the woods, but I tried not to thinkabout that too much—I didn’t like to think of the tiny, adorable dragons as carnivorous beasts.
“Let’s go see the god,” I urged as I tucked Brambleby into the sling Fiella had knitted while I was comatose. Apparently, Bram liked to be carried by whomever was willing, and she had fashioned a sling to keep her hands free while she hauled him to and fro.
It was rather convenient. It was a bright red color that reminded me alarmingly of the mushrooms that had nearly taken me out, but it was pretty, nonetheless.
Brambleby grumbled but complied, only wriggling a little once I settled him deeper into the sling and hoisted him over my shoulder.
I tried not to notice how much heavier he felt.
“We just need to talk to him one last time.” My stomach squeezed. “And then, he’ll be out of our hair. Forever, maybe.”
