Valenna
How does one attempt to kill a man and then, four years later, kiss the same man and not recognize him? Valenna sat by the creek and watched a frog on the bank, its throat bobbing and its poison green eyes fixed on a damselfly. Deep down, she had known. She must have. She was just too much of a coward to look the truth in the face.
Valenna wanted to scream; she wanted to weep. A part of her even wanted to run through the trees, back to her life in Largotia where anger was lighter than regret.
A commotion caught her attention. Torsten was in the garden, trying to tug Hera out of his turnip patch. Dusty red turnips hanging from all three mouths, the huge creature paid him as much attention as she might pay a bumblebee.
Valenna wanted a distraction—from her past, from Evander’s gathering doom, from the possibility of wyvern bone powder and the fragile hope it held out like a carrot on a stick. So she got up and walked to the garden.
“Let me help you,” she said. Approaching Hera from the side, Valenna placed her hand behind the hydra’s front right knee. Hera buckled it immediately, lowering to the ground, but when Valenna attempted to mount her so she could guide her from the garden, Hera curled one of her necks back, bit the backof Valenna’s shirt, lifted her gently, and deposited her on the ground.
“Hera!” Valenna cried, indignant. She stood, brushed off her trousers, and reached for Hera’s neck, but the hydra shied away.
“Of course, your master has spoiled you and not trained you properly,” Valenna fumed. “You unmannerly beast.”
Hera tore a mouthful of radishes from the soil and turned her rear to Valenna.
“We’ll need to lure her out with something she wants more than your garden,” Valenna said. “Have you got any meat?”
Torsten looked forlorn. “I have a brace of rabbits in the shed."
“Let’s try that.”
Leaving Hera to desecrate the radishes, Valenna followed Torsten across the creek to a potting shed.
He stepped inside and cut some rabbits from the low rafters.
“And how do you know Evande … Evandaine?” Valenna asked.
“I was his father’s physician before the king’s death.”
“And why are you here, in the forest?”
“After the prince was injured at Scathmore Barrens, I helped him escape Ashkendor and left him in Cobblepine. I’ve no skills with dragons, so I came here, where I’ve been quite happy.”
“And Bernice won’t hurt you?”
“My magic is rather too strong even for her.” He glanced out the door, making sure they were alone, then continued in a low voice, “My dear, if Daine’s broken his oath, Cobblepine won’t be friendly. I fear if you can’t come up with another way to save him, the end is inevitable. Watch for bleeding, especially from his nose and ears. If you see it, then you’ve got hours left before it’s too late. In the meantime, make sure he doesn’t overexert himself.”
“You’re a physician. Can’t you help him?”
Torsten bent a sorrowful look on Valenna. “If it were a broken bone, I could perhaps. I have a friend who is working on afascinating solution to broken bones. But this dark magic? I cannot fix this.”
“Since the condition comes from magic,” she said, taking the rabbits from Torsten, “I think I may know a way to draw the corrupted magic out of him.”
“Yes, but you know it comes at a cost. And the cost will be too high.”
She knitted her brow. “How could any cost be too high? I would give my life …”
“Ah, but it is never your life that is required, is it? That would be too easy. Believe me, child, if it is written in the tomes that Evandaine dies, then he will die, one way or another.”
He stepped out of the shed and she followed him, her heart lead-heavy. Hera was sitting demurely beside the hut, with Evander lying across her back, his sleeves rolled to his elbows as he stitched a long gash in the hydra’s shoulder. Valenna started when she saw him.It had been less than five minutes since she left the hut.
“What are you doing?” she demanded.
“Baking muffins,” was the dry reply.
“And you think hanging upside down is a good idea right now?”
