“Of course, take your time!” The bright-eyed elf named Lilia practically glowed from within. She sat on the opposite side of Rune’s dining table, right next to her partner, Ragnar, an elf with long crimson hair.
“Are you sure?” Rune asked. “You’ve been waiting a long time.”
Lilia nodded emphatically. “The cottage you’re building for us isn’t our permanent home, not in the same way Helga’s is. We still plan to travel the Isles, especially so we can make it to Riverwold’s Yule celebration most winters. So there’s no rush. We just want somewhere cozy and familiar when we need to slow down now and then.”
“Plus, it gives us a home base for brewing our ale,” Ragnar added with a fond look at his partner.
Rune smiled, then turned to me. “Wait until you try her ale. It’s some of the best.”
“Well, I’m glad you like it. Since that’s how we’re paying you,” Lilia said with a laugh.
I arched my brow at Rune. “Seems I’m not the only one willing to accept food as currency.”
“When you try Lilia’s ale, you’ll understand. The whole village has been trying to tempt her to stick around here for years.”
Ragnar cocked a grin. “Didn’t someone even try to come up with a new festival just to get her to stay?”
“Oh, I forgot about that! The Dragon Festival, to be held the first day of every Skerpla.” Lilia cocked her head. “That would be next month, but no one’s said anything about it.”
Rune shook his head. “It never got off the ground. No one took the lead in organizing it so the idea just kind of fizzled out.”
“The Dragon Festival?” I asked.
“Yes, because I ah…” Lilia quickly exchanged a glance with Ragnar. “Well, I have a dragon. You likely haven’t seen him around yet because he comes and goes a lot. Unlike…” She trailed off, looking uncertain.
“You have a dragon?” I repeated numbly.
Even though I’d come here specifically for a dragon, and even though I’d swallowed my doubts about their existence, Lilia’s words were a shock that felt like a fist to my gut. I turned to Rune, expecting him to be as taken aback as I was, but he silently stirred his stew. Because of course he already knew. None of this was a surprise to him.
“I forgot he hung around sometimes,” Rune said. “That might explain how something was pinging my wards.”
“Does everyone in Oakwater know about this dragon?” I asked.
Lilia shrugged. “Of course. Why else would they call it the Dragon Festival?”
So it was common knowledge. Couldthisbe why Erik was misinformed? He’d heard a dragon was on the Isles, and somehow he’d come to the conclusion that it belonged to Rune.Maybe he’d just gotten the name of its keeper wrong. Maybe Lilia’s dragon was the one Erik wanted me to steal.
My leg jiggled beneath the table. I’djustcome to terms with my failure to complete this assignment, and now a solution had fallen into my lap. I didn’t have to steal from Rune. I could take Lilia’s dragon instead. But as I looked into her smiling face, the thought made me sick.
Fate, I wasn’t cut out for this.
“Excuse me.” I shoved back my chair and scrambled to my feet. “I need some air.”
“Frida, come on. Wait—” Rune started to say. But I was already across the room, yanking open the door.
“It’s all right. Let her go,” Lilia said softly. “Folk from the mainland are always like this when they find out dragons are alive. It scares them.”
I shook my head and closed the door behind me, blocking out their words and breathing in the rich scent of the forest. This wasn’t about fear, at least not of the dragons themselves. For a beautiful brief moment in time, I’d thought I had an out. My fingers had closed around a bud of hope, but it had been snatched away from me before it bloomed.
Before it even had ahopeof blooming.
15
FRIDA
With a sigh, I crossed the garden and sat heavily on a mossy stone. The buzz of insects serenaded me. I pulled my legs up to my chest, leaning my chin on my right knee. The scent of petrichor mingled with the smoke that drifted from Rune’s cottage. Insects darted through the humid air, and the rustle of the wind through leaves swallowed up the static in my head. Closing my eyes, I tried to settle my thundering heart.
When I’d trained for the guild, I’d never faced anything like this. The drills were routine affairs with clear decisions and a kind of cold formality. Emotions and moral quandaries were not a part of the deal.
