Please send a pigeon to Gwenla, Number Three Orchard Lane, Herot’s Hollow, with any information.
Below their names was the portrait Weyland had made of the pair of them a few months earlier. The fliers had been printed recently—they were still warm from the press.
“Gwenla, what is this?” she asked.
And then she realized.
“How long have we been gone?”
“Eight days!” said Gwenla. “At first, I thought you might be held up in Fossholm, or that you’d gone to visit Lord Ainsley at Weldan House. But then we heard the news of the pirate attack on the ferry, and I worried you’d gone after your friend—hello, you must be Rinka.” Gwenla had noticed Rinka and Idris for the first time. She pulled Rinka into a hug. “Weyland told me not to worry. He said you knew how to take care of yourselves and that you were probably just delayed dealing with the constables inSudport. But when a week had passed and we still hadn’t heard anything, he agreed to help me with the fliers. Oh, he’ll be so happy to hear that you’re safe!”
“I’m so sorry to have worried you both. We’ve only been gone a day from our perspective.”
Alison recapped their recent adventures, and Gwenla nodded along, but the part she was most curious about was not the part Alison expected. “Idris? Why, you’re not the weePrinceIdris, are you?”
“I’m not exactly ‘wee’ anymore, but yes. I am he.”
Gwenla bowed. “Apologies, your highness. I thought the royal entourage wasn’t arriving until tomorrow.”
“I suppose they might be,” said Idris. “I wouldn’t know. I traveled on my own.”
“On your own? Well, aren’t you brave? I’ve seen you once before, when you were just a wee lad. My love Lady Willana, Gods rest her soul, she’d lived in the city, and we went to visit some of her friends there. And they were having an event at the castle for your fifth birthday, a great big festival on the castle grounds. And oh, you were just such a precious little thing. Your little red cheeks and your cute little dimples—oh! And your dragon form—so tiny and red. And when you took to the sky, Lady Willana was so worried for you. But you flew so well! You landed right on top of the highest tower, and you didn’t want to come down. Gods, that must have been twenty-five years ago.”
“A bit more, actually,” said Idris. He smiled politely, but Alison, who had been reminded of the curse on him by Rinka, could see the strain.
“Come on into the inn,” said Gwenla. “Sit down. I’m sure Ms. Morrison—she’s the innkeep here—will be pleased as punch to know you’re here. I’ll get the drinks, and then you lot need to fill me in on this scheme of yours.”
Alison caught Gwenla up on the plan to pass Rinka off as a noble, which Gwenla thought was wise on account of the reputations of Keir and Idris. “Not that you aren’t both quite charming gentlemen, but you tend to be on the fringes a bit, don’t you? We need someone who will really get in the mix if we’re going to convince these folks to save our town—and Rinka, you seem like just the type,” said Gwenla, and Alison agreed. Rinka had a natural friendliness and ease to her that few were blessed with. It had come as no surprise to Alison to learn that Rinka had made a friend during her voyage, and Alison would not be surprised if Rinka made it to the end of the summer with a dozen new friends, regardless of whether or not they were successful in their town-saving efforts.
Gwenla filled them in as well on the upcoming events. “The royal arrival is tomorrow; we’ll all be here to see them fly in, of course. Then the Midsummer Festival is the next day, and that’s where they’ll be having the dam demonstration. It would be good if something were to go wrong during the demonstration, but of course we’ll need to be careful so that no one gets hurt. If you don’t mind, I’d love it if you’d ask the korrigans if they have any ideas.”
“I can do that,” said Alison. “I’m sure they won’t be pleased to see their streams dammed up. And if they can’t or won’t help, there’s always magic.”
“Not my magic, I’m afraid,” said Idris. “My father knows what that looks like. He’ll probably suspect just about any kind of magical interference was me.”
Alison guessed that Idris had probably ruined more than one occasion that way before from the way he spoke of it.
“You’ll need a good alibi then,” said Rinka.
“And miss all of the fun?” said Idris.
Gwenla smiled at him. “I’m sure we can find something important for you to do. It’s so good of you to want to help us.”
Alison suspected Idris’s help was born less from altruism and more from a desire to make Rinka happy, but she kept her suspicions to herself.
They said their goodbyes to Gwenla, who promised to bring the good news of their reappearance to Weyland since they wouldn’t be back in Herot’s Hollow until the evening. Then they set out on the path to Weldan House.
Alison peeked back to watch Idris and Rinka joking and chatting as Keir led them through Fossholm. In truth, she’d been surprised to hear of their idea of pretending to court. She had suspected the feeling between them was genuine, at least on Rinka’s side of things, and she worried that her friend was in danger of having her heart broken.
But Rinka seemed in high spirits, and Alison wasn’t one to interfere without good cause. Still, she resolved to keep an eye on the situation and to be prepared with a hot cup of tea and a clean handkerchief should things change.
They reached the bridge near the falls, and Alison again felt the pull of the path near the water. “I think I’ll turn off here,” she said. “I’ll follow the path up from the falls to see if there are any signs of activity.”
“Are you sure you don’t want to stay on the side of the river closer to Weldan? It’s easier going on the west bank,” said Keir.
“All the more reason to avoid it,” said Alison. “The korrigans are seldom seen, probably because they stick to places that are more difficult to tread.”
Keir looked from Alison to Idris. Idris seemed to understand his hesitation. “Go with her,” said Idris. “I know how to handle showing up at a manor house unannounced. I’ll do my best not to give your father’s butler a heart attack.”
