The Dragon of Trelian (7 page)

THE SMALL GATE WAS THE FARTHEST
and least ornate of the entrances to the castle’s outer ward. Presumably it was called the small gate because it was intended for the “smallfolk”; it was generally used by servants and couriers, as well as apprentices on errands. The gate itself was actually fairly large, in Calen’s opinion. Most of the nobility ignored it, if they even knew it existed. The fact that Meg wanted to meet
here
made him all the more curious about what her secret could be.

As he neared the gate, Calen scanned the crowd for the princess. She didn’t seem to have arrived yet, so he walked over to lean against a section of the outer wall. It gave him a good view of the main road from the castle proper, so he’d be sure to see her when she approached. In the meantime, he amused himself by watching other people. While it was true he hadn’t gotten to know anyone closely, there were plenty of people he knew by sight, some well enough to pass a few words with now and then. Some folk were always happy to share news and spread gossip, and Calen liked to hear tales of the world outside his own dreary existence.

So far the only familiar face he saw was Lammy, the kitchen boy. Lammy was about seven and not the most reliable source of information, especially since he liked to make things up. He was hauling a huge sack of what appeared to be turnips, and not being all that careful with his burden, either. As Calen watched, two of the pale vegetables tumbled out onto the ground, and the sack showed definite signs of having been dragged through the dirt for at least part of its journey. Calen shook his head and jogged over to rescue the fallen turnips.

“Need some help with that, Lammy?” he asked, handing the turnips over to the boy.

“
No,
” Lammy said testily, grabbing them and stuffing them back into the sack. “I
got
it. I could carry this a hundred miles if I wanted to. A
thousand,
probably.” He paused, considering. “Unless you want to make it fly for me?” He looked up at Calen hopefully. “Not because I can’t carry it, ’cause I
can,
but I never seen flying turnips before, and so that would be good. Also Cook would probably shout when she saw them and drop her spoon.” He seemed to find this last idea especially appealing.

Calen smiled down at him. “Sorry, Lammy. Mage Serek hasn’t taught me anything about levitation yet.” At Lammy’s blank stare he clarified: “That means making things fly. I could turn them into toads for you, though, if you wanted. Then they could hop to the kitchen on their own.” He lifted a hand theatrically, pointing at the turnips and raising his eyebrows at the boy.

Lammy scowled and thrust the sack higher up against his shoulder. “That’s dumb. What’s Cook gonna do with toads? Can’t make turnip soup from toads!” He started walking again, muttering about toads as he went.

Calen laughed and headed back toward the wall. He couldn’t really have turned them into toads, of course. Serek still denied that such transformations were even possible, although Calen was pretty sure Serek just didn’t want to teach him about it. He frowned. Probably didn’t think he had the
discipline
or
intelligence
to handle it. Well, that didn’t matter anymore. Calen had decided to take more of his education into his own hands. You could learn a great deal from a book, he’d discovered. The pages he’d read in the Erylun had been far more informative than anything Serek had deigned to tell him, although he still hadn’t found any clear instructions about interpreting the spirit card reading he’d done yesterday. There were apparently hundreds of different ways to deal and read the cards, and Calen hadn’t seen anything that seemed to relate to the specific pattern Serek had laid out. Also, Mage Erylun assumed a certain level of knowledge and experience in his readers, and so didn’t explain a lot of things in detail that Calen guessed most full mages would already know. But that didn’t matter, either. With time, and lots more reading, he’d eventually be able to understand. And he wouldn’t need Serek’s help to do it.

Calen looked around with growing impatience. Where was Meg? It was all very well for her to tell him not to treat her like the princess she was, but she couldn’t at the same time expect him to wait around all day so she could show up at her leisure. Unless — His heart went small and tight within his chest. Had she only been having fun with him yesterday? She
was
a princess, after all; she certainly didn’t need to befriend some lowly apprentice in order to have someone to share secrets with. Suddenly he felt very stupid. Of course, that had to be it. She had probably laughed about it all evening with her sisters, mocking the silly, lonely boy who actually thought a princess wanted to be his friend.

He pushed away from the wall, his face hot with embarrassment, but couldn’t help looking around once more. As he turned back toward the castle, he noticed a scruffy-looking girl eyeing him with an amused smile. Calen glared back at her. What did
she
think was so funny?

Oh.

Oh!

He walked over to her, struggling not to grin like an idiot. “How long have you been here?”

“Just a short while,” Meg said. “I was wondering how long it would take you to recognize me.”

“I almost didn’t. You look really — different.” She was wearing a tunic and faded breeches, similar to the clothing of most boys and many girls whose responsibilities had them running long errands or working outside the castle. Hers were certainly dirty enough to look authentic; perhaps she had borrowed them from a real errand girl. Her boots were splattered with dried mud, and her hair was loose over her shoulders and looked rather tangly. It was hard to believe this was the same girl he had seen yesterday.

“Well, good. It certainly wouldn’t be much of a disguise if I looked the same, would it? Now, come on.” She started briskly for the gate, and he hurried to catch up.

“Why do you need a disguise?”

She gave him a disgusted look. “You seemed smarter than this yesterday. For one thing, princesses do not go wandering outside the castle grounds by themselves. My parents would never permit it, and the guards know it. Maurel tries it often enough, so they’re always on the lookout for her, but they believe we older girls have more sense.” She flashed him a wry smile, and he had to smile back. Even after his doubts a few minutes before, her comment about his intelligence lacked the same bite as Serek’s more pointed remark. And besides, he hadn’t been stupid. She was here, just like she said she’d be.

They were almost at the gate. Meg shook her head, causing some of her hair to fall around her face. Her hands were thrust into her pockets, and she walked with a slumped posture that was completely unlike the normal way she carried herself. The transformation was amazing — no one would ever imagine she was really a princess. Calen forced himself to stop staring, lest he draw unwanted attention to her, and looked up at the nearest guard instead. The guard was one he recognized — Lared, he thought his name was — and Calen waved as he walked past. Lared nodded back at him and then turned his eyes to the next in line. Meg walked through beside him without incident.

“For another thing,” she went on once they were safely past the gate, “this is a secret, remember? Even if I were allowed outside as myself, people might wonder where I was going, and why, and arousing curiosity about something is generally not the best way to keep it secret. Mellie, the dirty errand girl, however, can go virtually anywhere without attracting anyone’s interest.”

“Mellie?”

She shrugged and pushed her hair back behind her ears. “I had to have a name ready, just in case anyone asks.”

“Yes, but
Mellie
?”

“You be quiet, or I’ll make up a name for you, too.”

Calen held up his hands. “All right, you win. No more teasing about the name. So where are we headed, Mellie? Are you going to tell me this secret or not?”

She looked back over her shoulder toward the gate. “Once we’re out of view of the guards, we’re going to leave the road and head for those trees at the bottom of the hill.”

“And then?”

“And then you’ll find out what the secret is.”

“Can’t you tell me now?”

She shook her head, smiling. “Sorry. You’ll just have to learn to be patient, I’m afraid.”

The road from the gate took a sharp turn toward the south, heading to where it would eventually branch into two roads, one going on to meet up with the Queen’s Road and one continuing toward the market grounds. Once they passed the turn, Meg took a final glance around and then pulled Calen off onto the grassy field beside the road.

“Walk casually,” she said, “as if we’re just wandering over to the trees to rest in the shade.”

They stepped slowly through the field. Tiny flowers — peablossoms — grew among the tall grass, sprinkling the green with bright flecks of pink and yellow and violet. Calen stretched his arms up and closed his eyes for a moment to focus on the feel of the warm breeze against his face. It was nice to be out in the sun. One of the worst parts of being a mage, he often thought, must be having to spend so much time cooped up in a dark study. As an apprentice, at least he got to travel to the market once a week and run occasional errands outside the castle, but most of the business of magic itself seemed to require darkness and dust and shadows. He couldn’t even remember the last time he’d seen Serek outside in the daytime. No wonder the man was always in such a foul mood.

Suddenly Calen pitched forward. He managed to get his feet back under him just in time to avoid falling on his face, and twisted around to look for whatever had tripped him. After a second he saw it. Stupid rock.

Meg was smirking at him again. “You might want to try walking with your eyes open,” she suggested innocently. “Sometimes that can help.”

Calen just looked at her until she turned away, laughing. He shook his head. She certainly did seem to find him amusing. But somehow it didn’t bother him so much today.

They had come to the outer line of trees. The grassy field gave way to forest floor. Calen tried to keep an eye on his feet, not wanting to give any rocks or bulging tree roots a chance to trip him. Meg seemed a lot quieter than she’d been yesterday. Maybe she was just thinking about her secret. He hoped that was it, and not that she was getting bored with him already.

“How was the big dinner last night?” he asked her.

“Hmm? Oh, it was wonderful,” she said. “Prince Ryant seems almost as perfect as Maerlie’s made him out to be, and I think everyone had a good time.”

“Did you talk to anyone interesting? Like that guard with the scar?”

“Jorn? No, I didn’t get to talk to him. But I sat next to one of the other guards, Richton. I think you’d like him — he told great stories. He had all of us caught up in tales most of the evening. And I met the son of King Ryllin’s chief advisor. His name is Wilem.” She stopped and looked as if she were deciding what to say next. Then she suddenly looked startled and grabbed his arm. “Oh, and I can’t believe I almost forgot — I also sat next to Serek!”

“What? He was there?”

She nodded. “He sat next to me after having a mysterious private word with my parents, which unfortunately I wasn’t close enough to overhear. I didn’t even realize he’d be at the feast until I saw him come in.”

“Me neither,” Calen said. “I mean, I knew he went off to talk to your parents, but not that he’d be staying for the dinner.”

“Do you know why he wanted to talk to them? They didn’t say a word to us about it.”

“Yes,” Calen began, then stopped, suddenly feeling like an idiot again. He’d been so preoccupied with his anger at Serek’s dismissal of his abilities that somehow he hadn’t given further thought to what his reading of the cards had already suggested. Even with Serek’s refusal to explain anything to him, it was obvious that bad things were involved. Bad things that were going to be happening to Trelian. And of course Meg would want to know that. He should have thought to tell her right away. Except — he didn’t know what to tell her, exactly. That terrible yet vague dangers were on their way — look out?

Something in his face must have reflected his thoughts. Meg stopped walking, her eyes wide and concerned.

“Well, what? What is it, Calen?”

He shook his head. “I don’t really know.”

She poked a finger at him angrily. “Don’t do that,” she said. “You do too know, and you’re going to tell me.” She poked him again, harder. “Right now.”

Calen rubbed his chest. Did she always have to be so violent? “No, you don’t understand. I want to tell you, it’s just that it’s — it’s complicated.”

Meg folded her arms across her chest and stood there, staring at him. He sighed. Then he explained about the cards, and the reading, and how Serek refused to tell him anything more about it.

“So even I can see it’s about something bad,” he said finally. “But I just don’t know what.” He thought back to the card with the grinning skull, and shuddered.

They started walking again. “Well, I can’t pretend I’m not concerned,” Meg said after a minute, “but I think it’s too soon to get too upset over this. For one thing, you don’t know for certain what the cards meant.” She looked up at him apologetically. “I mean, you are just starting with divination — you said it yourself.”