The Wizard And The Dragon (33 page)

She nodded once. A dead-end, then. No
way to ask anymore without drawing suspicion. She focused on her surroundings
instead, getting her bearings for the area she lived. The direction of the
river meant that she had built her house upstream from the town. The settlement
was visible after only a few minutes of walking, after a gentle incline lead
them out of the trees. She saw the road curve closer to the river and continue
to more than a hundred houses built around the water. Despite the width of the
river, the town had been built on both sides of it, with a colossal bridge
connecting the two halves. On the other side of the town, along the water she
saw the beginning of farmland that stretched farther out than she could see.

The details in the note came back to her
as they neared the town. She tried to remember the list of names at the bottom
and found that the image of the words came effortlessly back to her, as though
she could hold the page to her eyes once more if she only closed them for a
moment. The town of Harkam’s Bridge, with at least thirty names of people that
she knew, their professions, and how they were related.

But no way to know their faces without
asking for their names.

The sword on her belt kept smacking into
her with each step. The area was starting to ache and she rested a hand on the
sword’s handle, keeping it steady as they neared the town. Calder’s face
changed from sullen to cheerful as they entered the streets, and she was
surprised to recognize that it was fake. He smiled with only his mouth and not
the rest of his face; his eyes and cheeks remained gloomy.

The townsfolk gave her a variety of
looks as they passed. Some greeted her by name and smiled, whereas an equal
amount of others glared and shook their heads. It was then that she began to
grow annoyed with her past self for the lack of preparation. Even with the
reminder that she had asked Calder for time alone, she felt betrayed. Each new
person she passed felt like a potential threat. By the time they reached the
heart of the town, near its central bridge, she was already considering leaving
the house behind. Her past self had built it, not her, and she had not yet
grown attached to it. She could just leave.

A group of children raced up to the two
of them, falling along side them as they walked and darting ahead and then
back. There was a young girl amongst them, Kate guessed no older than ten
years, who stared up at her with adoration. The look of pure recognition
combined with an innocent idolization cut into her sharper than any of Calder’s
looks. This young girl loved her.

“Anabelle,” Calder barked. “You’re not allowed
to cross the bridge.”

That name,
Kate thought, closing her eyes to the list.
Calder’s sister. Only sibling. Nothing
else next to her name. How could you leave out that she loved you?

“Mother said I could! Kate hasn’t
visited in so long that she said I could!” she was hopping in front of them,
grinning up at Kate.

“She was here last week,” Calder
grumbled.

“That’s a long time ago! Did my brother
do something to you?”

Kate found herself smiling back at the
girl. Calder looked shocked. For some reason it made her smile wider.

“Are you going to kill the troll?” one
of the children asked.

“Of course!”Anabelle answered for her.
“It’s just a troll!”

“Are you afraid?” another child called
out.

“No!” Again, Anabelle was the one who
answered. “Kate once beat up an ogre with her bare hands!”

“I heard that was because it was drunk,”
the same child taunted.

“So was she!” Anabelle stuck her tongue
out.

Kate kept smiling even as she began to
feel sick. She hadn’t recognized a vampire or a troll, but the word ‘ogre’
conjured a clear image in her head: an oversized man of muscle, three times her
height and several times her weight, and as stupid as it was strong. There was
no way she had bested it in a fistfight. The word drunk rang hollow in her,
sounding foreign and imaginary. She was unsettled by it, a reminder that she was
incomplete and that any word said to her might expose her.

They came to the bridge in the center of
town. It had looked massive in the distance and it was even more impressive up close.
It was wider than the streets: twenty people could have comfortably walked over
it side by side. Stone pillars supported the bridge from underneath, stretching
from beneath the water and holding the bridge high above the river. Kate could
see why Calder had been concerned about the little girl crossing it. The
structure dwarfed the other buildings of the town. Questions burned inside of
her as they neared it. It looked like the bridge had been built first and the
houses had been added later. She was forced to swallow her curiosity as they
stepped onto it.

The children scattered as they crossed
the bridge. Only Anabelle remained. She had wormed one her hands into Kate’s
and another into Calder’s. She walked between them.

“You should visit more,” she said with a
confident nod. “Even if that means kissing my brother.” She scrunched up her
face.

“Anabelle!” he growled.

Kate’s smile vanished as the little girl
ran ahead. She turned to Calder and saw that he looked grim rather than
embarrassed, his mouth a tight line. She looked at him now and saw that he
wasn’t unattractive, but she felt no stirring of desire when she looked over
him. She thought of the missing words, and how she had bitten into the apple,
and wondered if it was another change. Had she once been with the man, and that
was all the note was about? A lover’s quarrel? She felt her face mirror his
expression in contempt of herself, and hoped it wasn’t true. It felt petty and
absurd.

On the other side of the bridge, the
town opened up in a small market. There were stalls lined with food and furs.
There were many objects she didn’t recognize and she managed to keep herself
calm as she passed the merchants. She was either learning to temper her analytical
survey of everything or was becoming used to the sensation as second nature.
They passed a food stall and she tried to recall each of the different
vegetables she had seen. She stumbled on the names of things that she didn’t
know but the image was there all the same. It was only when she gave it
conscious thought that the information pressed and smothered around her.

There was a large building directly
outside the marketplace and Calder stopped at it. There was a sign hanging
above the large, double doors that had a crude painting of a dancing horse,
complete with an overflowing mug inexplicably held in each of its front hooves.
Anabelle was waiting at the door. Calder stepped up to her.

The Dancing Horse,
she recalled from the list.
Calder’s parents own the tavern. Their names
weren’t listed next to it. An oversight, or a ploy from my past self to make it
appear that I wasn’t close to them?

Kate went inside.

There was a large fireplace that
dominated the left wall, its stone spanning from the front windows of the
tavern all the way to the bar. There was a man standing behind it that was
unquestionably Calder’s father. She found the old man handsome, no less so by
his gray hair and weathered face, and wondered if it was circumstance that made
her unable to see the same in his son. She was disappointed that no name came
to her as she watched Calder walk over and begin talking with him. She was too
far to hear them. There were only two others in the tavern, a man and a woman,
huddled at a table next to the fireplace. The fire was a tiny thing so early on
in the day, looking miniaturized in the massive hearth.

Anabelle stayed next to Kate as she
waited by the door. She had no idea why Calder had led her here but didn’t risk
asking any questions. There was a work board on the wall to her right next to
the front doors. She looked over it and saw mostly local work, both offers and
requests, on the right half. On the left were more exotic postings: requests
for deliveries to outside towns and villages, some bounties on thieves, and
listed prices for the heads of monsters wild in the countryside.

“You and my brother had a fight,”
Anabelle said quietly, breaking away Kate’s concentration. “Didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” Kate couldn’t bring herself to
lie to the girl.

“He’s been sad lately,” the girl nodded.
“You should visit anyway.”

The girl walked away and vanished into
the back rooms. Calder was still talking with his father. Out of the corner of
her eye, she could see the man and woman looking at her from the fireplace. She
turned to them and they perked up, waving her over.

“Kate,” the woman said.

Her stomach tensed as she walked to the
table. She ran through the list of names again and again, desperately grasping
for any name that could match the face. Molly? Nettle? Charlotte? Did the woman
look like a Charlotte? What does a Charlotte look like?

“Kate,” the woman repeated. She leaned
forward out of her chair and whispered, as though what she had to say was a
great secret. “What do you know about dragons?”

“I don’t know,” Kate replied naturally,
without thought, and quickly followed: “why do you ask?”

“The port at the end of the river was
attacked,” the man spoke in a similarly hushed voice. “Gallibank, it’s called.
Was called, I should say. It’s not there anymore. Dragon burned it to the
ground.”

“Have you ever killed a dragon?” the
woman asked, her eyes wide and unblinking.

“Don’t be silly, Rose,” the man said
quickly as Kate mentally crossed a name from the list. Her husband was listed
below it, marked as a relation. She glanced to the man’s hand and the ring he
wore, matching the one on Rose’s hand. She grasped the name.

“There hasn’t been a dragon seen in a
thousand years,” the man continued, “let alone slain. Am I right, Kate?”

“Yes, Leo,” Kate said smoothly. “I’ve
never killed one.”

Or know what a dragon is, for that
matter.

The man looked satisfied. Rose huffed.
Calder turned away from the bar and Kate excused herself, meeting him at the
door. He had a few rolled parchments in his hand that he offered to her. She
cocked her head at him.

“Postings,” he said, bewildered. “My
father took the best down from the work board for you, like always. Kate,
what’s the matter?”

“Nothing. Thank you,” she looked down at
the parchments in her hand.

“The troll is in there too,” he mumbled.
“The Rakestrow farm made the post. Do you want me to come with you?”

“Yes,” she said, and found that she
meant it. Rakestrow wasn’t a name on her list and she had seen many farms on
her way into town.

“Okay?” Calder looked at her like he had
just caught her in a contradiction. She turned before he could ask more,
stepping out of the tavern and into the street.

* * *

Kate
began to feel sore as she walked. Even holding the sword, it still bounced
against her leg. The armor felt uncomfortable and shifted too much with her
movement, rubbing her skin through her clothes.

She followed Calder out of town and once
again along the river. They passed many fields and farmhouses before coming to
the first major fork in the road. The right turn curved along with the river
while the left diverted from the water and led uphill. Calder stopped at it and
turned to look at her.

“You can make it on your own from here,”
he said simply.

She looked down both sides of the road
and saw the farms continuing in both directions. There were no signs or name
posts anywhere. She nodded.

“Yes, but I’d prefer it if you kept me
company.”

He stared at her for what felt like a
long time. He took two slow steps along the left road, away from the river,
before he stopped again and turned to her. He looked dangerous for the first
time since she saw him, confusion masked with fury.

“No,” he spat. “No, you don’t get to
have it both ways. You’re not being fair.”

“I have no idea what you’re talking
about,” she said, happy to be able to avoid a lie. She had seen the way he had
began to walk. She moved passed him now, slow steps, keeping him in the corner
of her eye while she appeared to look forward.

“You can’t tell me to leave you alone
and then invite me along on the next job like everything is the same. You can’t
have it both ways,” he repeated.

“Then leave,” she glanced back at him
without stopping.

Once again she counted his steps. Two
away from her and then shifting on his heels, scraping the road before rushing
back to her. She tightened her grip on the sword’s handle but he made no
attack, merely catching up to her side and matching her quick pace.

“I just figured it out,” he said. “It
all makes sense now. This charade of yours.”

She felt her chest tighten but she kept
her expression as blank as possible. She smiled.