“Does Evander Trevelyan’s condition hamper his work?”
“What condition?” Thomasina asked sharply.
Narrowing her eyes, Valenna leaned back. Could Thomasina really not know? Had Evander hidden it that well? Not that it surprised her. He had always been stubborn and stoic—hiding the pain for months before he dropped half-dead in front of her one day and frightened her half out of her mind.
Or perhaps he was doing better?
She couldn’t imagine that. He didn’t look better. Well, Evander always looked beautiful and tragic, but he didn't look healthier.
“Did you ever have a trainer here by the name of Olive?” Valenna asked. She knew Olivette was traveling under this name, and she’d followed her trail as far as Largotia before it went cold.
“Olive?” Thomasina considered. “It doesn’t sound familiar.”
“Do you have any records I could check? She’s a friend of mine, and I lost her address. I’ve been hoping to find her.”
“I do keep records, but I remember everyone who comes through here, and there was never anyone named Olive. I’m so sorry.”
Valenna nodded, choking back her disappointment. This was her last hope. If Olivette wasn’t in Silvanlight, where in Roz’s nest was she?
“We’re having a festival tonight,” Thomasina said with forced brightness. “For the Cobblepine trainees. They leave after the paddocking.”
Valenna frowned. “Isn’t it a little tasteless? Having a festival when the dragon master was so recently eaten?”
“My dear”—Thomasina laid her hand on Valenna’s arm—“if we cancel this festival, the people from Cobblepine will be offended, and if the people from Cobblepine are offended, they might not trade with us anymore. Reggie would understand.”
“Was Reggie well-liked?” Valenna asked. “No one seems very upset over his death.”
“Reggie was not particularly good at what he did, unfortunately. That is why he was eaten. We’re all sorry for him, of course, but it was not unexpected.”
“And how was he able to be dragon master if he was so incompetent?”
Thomasina chuckled. “Because Evander Trevelyan does all the work.”
That, at least, made sense. Evander was nothing if not hard-working, physician’s orders or no physician’s orders. She'd had to practically tie him to his bed after his accident, just so he wouldn't get up and go feed his wretched pet hydra. In the end, she'd smuggled the creature into the infirmary just so he would sit still and rest. It was only the size of a dog back then—she wondered if it had grown larger.
“Oh!” Thomasina cried, leaning across Valenna and prodding the willow branch behind her. “The dragon willow has a blossom! How strange.”
“Is that a dragon willow?” Valenna asked.
“Yes,” Thomasina replied, standing and inspecting the dainty white flowers. “One of the last remaining. They used to grow in abundance in Talwaith—you would know it as the Scathmore Barrens. There are two variations of this kind of willow. The purple and the white. It is said that the sap of the purple willow can wake the dead at a terrible price, and the scent of the whitesummons the dragons. This one isn’t dead—I’ve cut into it, and it’s green inside—but it won’t bloom.”
Unnerved, Valenna leaned away, not wanting to touch it again. Something about the tree made her uneasy.
“The old song mentions it," Thomasina continued. "I can’t recall the words. Something about blood and singing birds. Anyhow, they say when the dragon willows bloom in Talwaith, the dragons will return to roost.”
“Well,” Valenna said grimly, “Talwaith is a wasteland now.”
“It’s sad.” Thomasina sighed. “Very sad.”
“Anyway,” Valenna said, a tangle of painful memories tugging at her attention. “If there's a festival, I'll need an appropriate dress. Could you recommend a dressmaker?”
Valenna returned to her room at sunset, her arms laden with new gowns, each one custom-picked for revenge. Never again would Evander see her in torn trousers. He needed to know what he was missing.
Thomasina had prepared an attic bedroom for Valenna in her snug stone cottage at the farthest corner of the dracorium. From the window, Valenna could see over the rock wall into the Whyspenware forest where the trees changed as abruptly as ocean water fades from sky-blue shallows to green-black depths. A glistening plum-colored owl, wreathed in mist, watched her from a gnarled oak tree, and a dark, hulking form moved deep in the forest, snapping branches as it went. Valenna squinted, trying to see what the form was, but the trees shielded the creature from sight. The flesh on Valenna’s arms prickled, and she turnedquickly away and flopped on the cozy bed tucked in an alcove lined with bookshelves. Closing her eyes, she breathed in the fresh spring breeze.
Her body relaxed, but her mind went for an anxious romp.
Evander rode dragons every day. He meant to be dragon master. No one here knew about his condition, and his pupils were uneven. Did he leave because he was sick of being happy and healthy and having someone look after him, the absolute bloody idiot?
