The winds blew cold and stiff over the mountains the next morning. They were strong enough that I could feel the chill’s bite in my bones by the time I had risen and walked outside to see Mr. Lawcrest chopping firewood and Grace out amongst the fields of sheep that were taking shelter behind the barn. Sombre clouds hung low over the northern sky, heavy with rain. A storm was certainly on its way.

  I reached into my pocket, idly fidgeting with that gemstone I had taken last night. It felt heavier than it should in my hands. I glanced towards the town below, wracking my brain to try and remember where I could meet someone to pawn this thing off before it drew anything negative towards us. It had been years since I’d last tried to sell something stolen, and the memories of clandestine back alley swaps and under-the-table deals at jewellers’ had begun to melt into the quiet life I’d been living since then.

  “Something on your mind, Belfry?” said Mr. Lawcrest. I jumped at the sudden noise and shoved the stone as deep as I could into my pocket, doing a poor job of concealing the guilty manoeuvre and the look across my face. Mr. Lawcrest squinted at me. “Have you got something, there?”

  “Uh, no sir—” I coughed. “I mean, well, yes. It’s not anything special.”

  “Ah. I see.” Mr. Lawcrest nodded, apparently completely satisfied, not betraying even a hint of distrust as he swung the axe down again, splitting another log. “Grace told me you were planning on going back into town today to spend that money?”

  “I am,” I said. “If that’s okay, sir.”

  Mr. Lawcrest stopped, propping the axe up on the stone block he’d been bracing the wood against and leaning on it as he caught his breath. “I reckon it should be,” he said. “You picked a good day to delay for. Bad weather’s rolling in, so we’ll be keeping the flock close, where I can see ‘em.”

  “Mhm,” I nodded, sliding backwards a few steps. “So…I should probably go ahead…?”

  “Hold on a second,” said Mr. Lawcrest. He turned to the side, cupping his hands in front of his mouth. “Hey Grace!” he shouted. “You feel up to taking Belfry into town again?”

  “Sure do, Pa!” Grace cheerily called back, coaxing Juniper to sit down with a stick before traipsing towards us.

  “I don’t know if you need to do that, sir,” I said. “I can go on my own, if you need her here.”

  “Ah, like I said, it’s a good day for you two to be away,” said Mr. Lawcrest. “And you’ve got to remember that you’re only fourteen, kid. I don’t want you getting hurt, alright?” He put a comforting hand on my shoulder. “And you don’t need to call me ‘sir’. We’ve been over that. Remember?”

  I nodded, clearing my throat. “Sorry,” I mumbled. “Force of habit.”

  “You’re good,” said Mr. Lawcrest. He set the axe down by the block and started gathering all the firewood into a pile just as Grace hopped over the fence. “You two don’t be out too, too long, alright?” he said. “And make sure you get something to eat! Don’t want you coming home for dinner like ravening wolves.”

  “We will, Pa!” said Grace. As soon as we were down the hill and out of sight of Mr. Lawcrest, she gave me a light shove and flashed a bright smile. “Race you!” she said before bolting forward, her energy barely inhibited by the cold day.

  “Hey–wait!” I tried to call out, but she was far ahead of me by then. I didn’t have much of a choice but to run after her. I wasn’t nearly as much of a sprinter as she was, and pretty soon the frosty air filling my lungs spread out through my body, draining what energy I did have. I had to stop halfway to the town gates, doubled over by the road and breathing hard.

  Grace’s boots slowly clomped against the ground as she backed up towards me. “This better not be some plan to trick me into losing,” she warned. “I’ve never known you to be someone to quit, Belfry.”

  “Be quiet,” I said between breaths. “Today’s not a good day. I’m not feeling good.”

  I could practically feel Grace’s expression softened at that. “Still antsy about the cuirassiers yesterday?” she asked.

  “Yes,” I said, honestly. “That and…other things.”

  My hand went back to my pocket. That gem felt colder and heavier every time I touched it. Grace’s eyes obviously followed the motion, and she tilted her head expectantly. My heart pounded, but I brought the stone up, holding it low enough that our bodies blocked view of it from any passersby that might happen to come down the deserted road right then.

  “Whoa,” said Grace, her eyes widening. “What is that?”

  “I don’t know,” I said with a shrug. “Well, I know it’s a gemstone. I don’t know what kind, though. It’s weird, it doesn’t look like anything I’ve ever seen before. And I found it….” I weighed whether or not to tell her everything. “…I found it in a hole. In the ground.”

  “Where?” asked Grace.

  “In a hole,” I repeated. “It was buried.”

  “Right, but where was the hole?” Grace pressed. She added in a whisper, “Belfry, did you steal this?”

  “No!” I said a little too fast. “No, no. I don’t think so. It was in the field, where the sheep graze. I found it last night when I was getting Juni. I swear I didn’t steal it. If someone left it there, then they weren’t looking out for it well enough.”

  “Belfry, calm down,” said Grace. “I believe you. If you didn’t steal it, then it’s all good. Great, even.” She held a hand out and I handed over the gem. She held it up to the sky, squinting at the glint of cloud-stained sunlight that shone from the edge of the stone. “What do you think it’s worth?”

  “I don’t know that either,” I said, trying to guide her hands down so she wasn’t showing it off so brazenly. “I think it might be fake. I’ve never seen a purple pearl before.”

  “Yeah, me neither,” said Grace. She tossed in the air and snatched it up before handing it back to me. “If it is, then we’ll find out today and you’ll get a nice little pretty thing to hang on a necklace or something. If it isn’t we’ll get a whole heap of castles for it, more than we’d make in years, and we can give those back to Pa as a Crown Day present!”

  “Yeah,” I agreed, some of the stress melting away under her reassuring words. “Let’s do that.”

  Grace smiled and pulled me forward after I’d gotten my energy back and put the gem away again. As we crossed through the gates once more, I finally thought to ask, “Do you know someone we can hand it off to?”

  “Not immediately,” she said. “But I know who we can ask about that.”

  After the commotion of yesterday, I had have expected Vandermaine to have gone at least a little back to normal by now. But the atmosphere that hung over the wind-lashed streets that day was just as dead as before. We avoided the main square today, just on the off chance that it was still being actively occupied by the imperials. One of the dragons, the green one, did wheel through the sky overhead while we sheltered under an archway, confirming that they were still around.

  We were headed to the low city, where about a quarter of the town’s buildings seemed to spill off the mountainside, clustering themselves on a series of precipices below the main field upon which Vandermaine stood, and which ultimately gave way to another fell further down. Chimneys belched thick plumes of smoke as workshops and small factories built halfway into the cliff churned through the coal dug up in the mines to the south of town. I coughed constantly as we climbed down switchback stairways and steep slopes in the road, eventually having to put the hem of my shirt over my face to filter out at least some of the acrid pollutants.

  Grace led us into a nook between two houses, where a small wooden door sat flush with the stone of the cliffside. A small sign painted with the word “CLOSED” hung from a hook just at eye-level.

  “Uh, Grace, it says they’re—” I started before Grace marched right up to the door and gave it three solid knocks.

  “Are you illiterate?” a familiar voice called from inside. “We’re closed for Crown Day!”

  “It’s Grace and Belfry!” said Grace. “We’re not here for business.”

  Heavy thuds sounded behind the door before it cracked open just a hair, revealing Gordon’s suspicious, bespectacled eye on the other side, before it swung open wide. “Come in,” he said.

  I followed Grace into what was a combined storefront and workplace. A single line of shelves ran around the room, displaying a number of metal goods. Horseshoes and nails were the most abundant, but there were also locks, metal bars that seemed like the skeletons of furniture, and a handful of solid plates that surrounded them. At the back of the room was an end table evidently repurposed as a store counter, and beside it a much more open space with a somewhat conical forge that glowed with heat, a perfectly flat stone workbench with a number of tools I didn’t recognise sprawled out across it, and a grindstone.

  “Not to come off as suspicious, kid,” Gordon said as he shut the door behind us and made his way over to the workbench, leaning back against it as he faced us and crossed his arms. “But you don’t normally come by, save when you’re needing nails or a fix for your gates. So, what’s it that you’ve come to me for this time?”

  Grace nudged me. “Show ‘em,” she mumbled.

  “Are you sure?” I hissed, still eyeing the man with distrust.

  “Don’t be paranoid, Belfry,” said Grace, an edge of irritation creeping into her tone. “Of course I’m sure.”

  Gordon gave me an expectant glance. I pushed my nerves aside and retrieved the stone, holding it out towards him. The warm firelight from the forge flickered across its surface, clashing with the natural purple tint.

  Gordon raised an eyebrow. “Fancy little bauble you’ve got,” he said. “What’re you wanting me to do with it?”

  “Well, Gordon, you’re one of the smartest people around town,” said Grace. “Belfry here found it out in the fields last night. We need to find out if it’s real, and if it is, we need to sell it to someone. Would you happen to know where we might be able to do that?”

  Gordon snorted. “For the record, I’d normally count this as ‘business’,” he said. “But I’ll let it slide. Give it here.”

  With a heartbeat’s trepidation, I handed the stone over. Gordon took it, adjusting his glasses and bringing it really close to his eye to investigate.

  “What kind of stone you trying to prove this is?” he asked. “Pearl? Can’t say I’ve ever seen a purple pearl before.”

  “It’s the only one I can think of,” I said. “I’m not sure, though. I just want to make sure it isn’t glass, or something. Because it doesn’t really matter what a jeweller would call it, it would still be pretty pricey, I think.”

  Gordon nodded, examining the stone in the firelight for several minutes of silence, eventually lighting an oil lamp by the workbench to brighten the room up a bit more. He rubbed it between his fingers, closing his eye as he concentrated.

  “Well, it doesn’t feel like a pearl,” he said.

  “I know,” I agreed. “It feels more like glass. Pearls are a little gritty-feeling.”

  Gordon glanced up. “Oh? You handle a lot of pearls in your line of work?”

  “Do you?” I asked, instinctively turning defensive.

  “Gordon’s done lots of things!” said Grace. I could see in her eyes she was trying to defuse that little fire I’d just started, and I was more than thankful for it. “We’ve got some time. Why don’t you tell her, Gordon?”

  Gordon gave a heavy sigh. He sat down at the workbench, grabbing a few tools and a hammer as he kept up his examination of the stone. “I don’t normally like to talk about this,” he said.

  “You talk about it with me?” said Grace, her head tilting with confusion.

  Gordon paused. He opened his mouth, then closed it, then tried again. “I know,” he said. “The other cuirassiers showing up just helped me put some things in order, I think.”

  I put two and two together pretty fast. “‘Other cuirassiers’?” I repeated. “Were you an imperial cuirassier?”

  Gordon’s shoulders tensed up. “I was,” he said. “For a while.”

  “Why’d you leave?” I asked. “I thought cuirassiers were supposed to serve until death.”

  Gordon shook his head. “That’s a myth,” he said. “It’s just that it’s a pretty dangerous job. Especially with the rebellion that’s been going on for years. Most folks just get old and stop going out on active jobs, they just teach the new kids.”

  If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.

  “But you’re not teaching?” I asked.

  “Nope,” said Gordon. “I can’t.”

  “Why?”

  His jaw clenched. Grace leaned forward, her joviality replaced with concern. “Gordon?” she said quietly.

  “Hmm…” hummed Gordon. It was difficult to make out in the flickering light of this underground room, but I could have sworn I saw a twinkling tear fall down to the workbench. “Well. I know you, Grace, but how much do you know about the cuirassiers, little Belfry?”

  “I know that they’re the empire’s best soldiers,” I said. “And that they ride dragons.”

  Gordon nodded. “You’re closer than most,” he said. “A lot of people have gotten fooled by the romantics into thinking that they’re like old knight-errants. Soldier is better. They’re basically the emperor’s most reserved level of attack dogs.”

  I glanced at Grace to see a look of complete betrayal across her face.

  “And they do ride dragons,” Gordon continued, “but it’s more than that. Dragons are smart creatures, smarter than most any animal or monster besides us humans. They don’t just give you a dragon and wave you off to go soldiering, like they do with horse cavalry. Cuirassiers make a special kind of bond with one dragon. Then they work together for life. Or until….” He stopped cold.

  “Or until one of you dies?” I filled in the blank.

  “Hmm,” Gordon hummed in agreement. “They didn’t tell us much about the bond before we made it. I was bonded to a dragon, yellow as citrine. We flew all across the empire together. I thought we were doing good, keeping the peace. She seemed to like the work as much as me. I’d have called us friends.” He sighed again, his entire body seeming to deflate. “But then she just…got sick one day, and never really recovered.”

  My mouth felt dry. I wanted to comfort him, but didn’t know what to say.

  “I’m…really sorry for your loss,” said Grace.

  “It’s been eleven years,” said Gordon. “I’ll live.” He wiped at his eye, fully setting the tools and gemstone down to focus on the conversation. “But once I wasn’t bonded anymore, they tossed me to the streets. No help to get by without the Order’s support, no word of a warning. Just booted out. I’d spent three decades training and practising in only one skill, and then I couldn’t do it anymore.”

  Grace made a disgusted face. “That’s so cruel. Why would they do that?”

  “Better than what they did to people who weren’t happy with the empire,” rumbled Gordon. “I’ll never get the sight out of my mind of one hamlet we got sent to. They said an illicit occultist had started a cult there to gather blood illegally. You know, most magi use blood to fuel their magic?”

  I blinked. I was vaguely aware that blood was the key to magic, what with it being preached as such in a few Luminary Church chants I’d heard, and with it being somehow related to healing products I’d seen in apothecaries’ shops, but I hadn’t done any study on the subject.

  “Well, they do,” said Gordon. “That’s part of why the emperor outlawed drawing blood outside of some people with a license for it. Now it’s only Church priests, some physicians, and a handful of licensed occultists that are allowed to.” He gazed into the embers of the forge as though they laid the past out before his eyes. “But our commanders, they told us that it was a cult that was in that little hamlet. And then, when the people didn’t tell us where our target was, they told us to burn it. Burn it all, because they discovered the ‘cultists’ were organising rebellion.” He shook his head. “We didn’t think much about it. I guess I figured that they were too far gone in the cult to help.”

  “Saints,” gasped Grace.

  “I’m guessing that there wasn’t a cult at all?” I said gravely.

  “Of course there wasn’t,” said Gordon. “I didn’t learn that until I found some papers that our commanders had forgotten out of place. I wrote it off then. I was stupid.” He glanced at Grace, eyes full of sorrow. “I’ve done you wrong, kid. I shouldn’t have told you all those stories of adventure. We didn’t plunder many ruins, and most of the people we killed weren’t brigands. It’s not a glamorous job. If the emperor’s gone, I can’t imagine that the order will last much longer, anyway.”

  Grace rested her head in her hands. “There’s got to be someone in the Order that isn’t like that,” she said. “They do good things sometimes, right?”

  “I suppose they do,” said Gordon. “Sometimes. But only when it suited His Majesty.” He frowned, seeing Grace’s obviously distraught face. “I’m sorry. It didn’t really catch on with me that I was feeding you a fantasy until the cuirassiers came to Vandermaine, of all places.”

  Grace pursed her lips. “It…it’s fine,” she lied. “It’s not like I haven’t dealt with bad news before.”

  I narrowed my eyes. “Grace, you’ve got that look in your eyes of an idea,” I said.

  “No, no,” she shook her head. “No ideas here. Just thinking about all those old stories. About knights flying through the air, cutting down rocs and gryphons and giants. Making sure that all the people under their shadow were safe.”

  Gordon closed his eyes, then forced himself to put on a small smile. “Well, lass, if the world isn’t what you want it to be, the only thing for it is to make it that way yourself. I’m sure that you’ll find some way to be that hero, even if the cuirassiers aren’t what you thought.”

  I could practically smell the tell of a white lie in his false optimism, but it seemed to cheer Grace up anyway. She returned his smile. “Thanks.”

  Gordon nodded. He turned back around to grab the gem. “Anyways, you came here for this thing,” he said, holding it up to the firelight, “not to hear an old man’s regrets. I’m no jeweller, so take a grain of salt with this, but if I’m honest…I don’t think it’s a pearl, but it certainly isn’t glass either. I can’t tell you any more than that. It’s real, no doubt, but real what is still the question.”

  “That’s closer than we have been,” I said, taking the stone and putting it safely back in my pocket. A weight felt like it lifted off the room once it was out of sight. “I guess we’ll have to find a real jeweller to get it off our hands, though.”

  “That’d be best,” Gordon agreed.

  Grace stood, beckoning me towards the door. “Come on, Belfry,” she said. “We’ve still got to find you something to spend your gift money on, too, and I don’t think that we’ll find it around here.”

  I slowly stood. My eyes unfocussed and lingered on the wall. There was something else I wanted to ask Gordon while I had the chance, but the inertia of the silence was a little bit too much.

  Gordon turned to follow my gaze, and gave me a curious look. “What you looking at, lass?” he asked.

  His question broke the seal on mine. “Um, if you don’t mind,” I started, stepping forward. “Since you know so much about the town, I was wondering if you knew any apothecaries you might be able to introduce me to?”

  Gordon chuckled. “You looking to learn the trade?”

  “Yes,” I answered. “It’s just always been something that interested me, more than shepherding, at least. But I’ve never gotten a chance to really learn.” I rubbed the stone. “But if this thing is valuable, I might really be able to, soon.”

  “Aw,” said Grace. “I thought you liked working with us?”

  “I do,” I said, holding up my hands defensively. “I’m really grateful for the work that you and your father have given me, but I’ve always wanted to learn more about medicine.” I jabbed my finger at her. “You know what I mean, right? You’re the one who wanted to go off and ride dragons.”

  “Heh, heh,” Grace said with a smirk, scratching her head. “Guess you’re right.” Her eyes lit up. “Hey, if you get to be really good at it, maybe you could come and be my medic out on the field!”

  Gordon held up a hand. “Whoa, slow down,” he said. “First, Belfry’s got to actually learn, and that takes years of practise, from what I understand.” He fidgeted with a small hammer, flicking it back and forth between his fingers while he looked up at the ceiling. “I know an apothecary here in the low city, but I don’t think that they’re taking on apprentices right now.”

  I deflated a bit. “Oh.”

  “Hold on, now,” said Gordon. “They aren’t taking apprentices right now. But that doesn’t mean that you can’t study the craft. I can take you to them some time this week, I’m sure they’d be able to sell you some texts on herbs and medicines, maybe a pharmacopoeia if you really catch their eye.”

  I gave a melancholic shrug. “I guess, but I can’t use any of that stuff if I can’t actually practise with it.”

  “I also emphasise the ‘right now’ part of that,” said Gordon. “They’re getting as old as me. Their elbows are starting to creak a little too much, and I hear them complaining at the pub every now and then about having to fetch all the ingredients from their laboratory. I’m sure that they’ll have to start requesting help sooner rather than later. That’ll be your opportunity.”

  I brightened up a bit at that, but it still sounded like a very distant proposition. A ‘maybe’ in a few years’ time. “I guess it’s better than nothing,” I thought out loud.

  Gordon smiled. “I’m sure that your bound for a healthy apprenticeship someday, but a young girl like you ought to focus on study if a trade of knowledge is your goal. If you do, you’ll no doubt end up—”

  He was abruptly cut off by a sharp knock at the door. His expression instantly soured and he roused himself to walk over. “Bloody morons in this town,” he muttered to himself. “What’s even the point of putting up a sign?”

  Grace stepped back away from the entrance as Gordon pressed his face against the door. “No business today!” he shouted. “Read the sign!”

  “This is the Vandermaine Watch!” a haughty voice shouted from the other side. “Open this door!”

  Fear stabbed its icy talons into my heart. Grace and I shared a look, though she seemed more confused than scared. Gordon just sighed angrily, throwing the door open wide for three watchmen to enter. They were clad in combat-ready gear, with their characteristic tall nickel-plated helmets and evergreen-and-goldenrod gambesons covered with slightly dented metal breastplates. Heavy steel-banded clubs filled their hands. They marched in, two taking up positions by the door as it swung shut again and the third, an older woman with a hawkish expression, went to the centre of the room.

  “You,” she said, jabbing an accusatory finger at Grace. “Turn out your pockets.”

  “Hang on, what’s going on?” asked Grace. “I haven’t done anything.”

  “Now,” the woman ordered.

  “Saints, fine,” grumbled Grace. She very aggressively turned her pockets inside out, letting a small metal whistle and a piece of lint fall to the ground. “There. Good?”

  “Stand aside,” said the woman, gesturing Grace towards the wall. “You.” This time her finger pointed at me. “Empty your pockets.”

  I fell back on instinct. I reached into my pockets to turn them inside out, gripping the gem in my fist to keep it concealed as I pulled the fabric out, revealing nothing inside.

  The woman glared at me. “Open your hands, too,” she said.

  I held my breath. I hadn’t tried this trick in years, so I was praying the rust wasn’t about to get me imprisoned. I flipped my clenched fist upside down, trying to push the stone up my sleeve in the same motion. I kept eye contact with the watchman the whole time, doing my best to avoid the textbook “guilty” face.

  The sharp clink of the gem falling against the stone floor felt like a dagger in my ears, and I flinched hard. I had dropped it. The woman knelt down and picked it up, looking at it very closely.

  “Hmph,” she huffed, giving me a lethal glare. “You know, we used to cut thieves’ little fingers off,” she said matter-of-factly.

  “I didn’t steal it,” I said hurriedly.

  “She didn’t!” Grace concurred.

  “I find that hard to believe,” said the watchman. “Where’d you find it, then?”

  “On the ground,” I said. Half-lies were easier to get away with, I remembered. I crushed all the tense emotions building up in my head and put on the old straight-face mask I hadn’t worn in two years.

  “On the ground?” she repeated.

  “Yes, sir,” I answered. “On the ground, in our field. It was just sitting there by a boulder. I thought it was a pretty rock, so I picked it up. I was thinking of selling it in town today for a few coins. That’s all.”

  “She’s telling the truth!” Grace shouted. I fought a wince. If anything was going to blow our alibi, it was her reckless enthusiasm and poor choice of words. I already knew she wasn’t a very accomplished liar, but I didn’t like having my theories reinforced when both of us were on the proverbial chopping block.

  The woman narrowed her eyes. “Your field, huh,” she mused. “Do you know if anyone happened to walk through your fields some time in the last few days?”

  “No, sir,” I said. “I didn’t see anyone, but our fields are pretty big, so it’s pretty easy to get through them without any of us knowing about it.”

  “Is that so?” she said. She retrieved a small metal box from a satchel, and placed the stone inside before putting it away again. Watching potentially hundreds of castles disappear in front of my eyes was a familiar feeling that I had hoped I wouldn’t ever encounter again once the Lawcrests had taken me in.

  “You’re lucky this is an urgent matter, kid,” said the woman, “else we’d be taking you to jail to stand trial. As it is, your…reluctant aid to the Crown of the Empire of Lundenia is noted.” She walked back towards the door. “All of you, carry on. May the saints bless your souls.” With that, she and the other watchmen filed out, leaving us in the smouldering silence of the workshop.

  I leaned against a wall, sliding down it until I was sitting on the floor, holding my face in my hand. Grace knelt down next to me. “Are you doing okay?” she asked.

  “I’m fine,” I answered on instinct, before letting the wall down a little. “…No, not really. I’m tired.”

  Grace let out a big puff of air. “Yeah. Me too, honestly.”

  Gordon hadn’t moved from his place at the door, staring intently out the small crack between it and the frame. “Seems like that stone had some folks on its trail,” he said. “Were you expecting that, kid? The truth, please.”

  I swept my hair out of my eyes. “No?” I said. My voice betrayed my lack of surety. “I mean, I was kind of afraid of it, since I found it in a hole someone dug in our pasture…with some bloodstains around it.”

  Grace whipped her head around to shoot me a look of hurt and confusion. “You didn’t tell me that part,” she said.

  “I know,” I whispered, my words spilling out hot and fast. “I’m sorry. I didn’t want to get you worried in case it didn’t matter. It could have just been sheep’s blood for all we know—maybe one cut its leg on a rock. I didn’t steal it. I promise I’d say if I thought that it was stolen.”

  Gordon drew a long breath. “Well, whatever you call it, it’s clearly drawn some attention your way.” He shut the door fully, retreating to his forge. “You should probably hurry home. Maybe stay there until the cuirassiers are gone and whatever this all is has blown over.”

  “Yeah,” Grace said, standing. “Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.” She held out a hand towards me. “Come on, Belfry. Let’s go.”

  I accepted her offer, and she helped pull me to my feet. I kept my head down as we walked out the door, but I gave Gordon a small wave as we passed him by. “Thanks for your help, sir,” I said.

  “Mhm,” he said. “Least I could do.”

  We hurried out of town, keeping our heads down and moving as fast as we could without rousing too much attention. Every stranger we passed by made my heart beat faster as that little needle of doubt made me question if they would stop us for a search, or turn us in, or something. We didn’t bother getting any food like Mr. Lawcrest had asked, and good thing too, because the rain began just as we were passing through the gates, the bitter wind dying down somewhat only to be replaced with a swarm of icy droplets. Thunder rumbled over the southern hills, and flashes of lightning lanced down towards trees that had the misfortune of sitting high up.

  “I’m sorry you lost your rock,” Grace said as we skirted the growing puddles of mud that filled the rutted road.

  “It happens,” I replied. “I’m sorry you had to hear all that stuff about the cuirassiers. I know you always dreamed about joining up.”

  “Eh,” said Grace. She hopped up onto a ridge by the road, holding her hands out to balance as she walked its length alongside me. “It was a long shot anyway. I mean, I’m just a farm girl from a small mining town. Working folks like us don’t really go on adventures.”

  “Well, when you put it like that, it sounds really sad,” I said.

  “It’s just how things are,” said Grace. Maybe it was the rain obscuring my vision, but she still looked crestfallen.

  “Hey, I’m sure that you’ll get to go rambling around the countryside some day,” I said, trying my best to cheer her up. “There can’t ever be too many heroes, you know. You’ll just need to practise your swordsmanship.”

  “Oh, if only we had a sword to practise with,” Grace bemoaned.

  I shrugged. “If that’s what you’re after, I’m sure I could save up a shilling or two to buy one.”

  Grace smirked, jumping off the ridge to splash in a big puddle. “And then whenever I get hurt, you can use some herbs to patch me up! We’ll practise together, that way!”

  I couldn’t help a smile crossing my face. “I think I’d like that,” I murmured.

  “You know,” said Grace, putting her arm around my shoulders, “I don’t think that I’d want to go off on an adventure anyway if my sister wasn’t beside me the whole step of the way.”

  Sister. My heart swelled. “Of course,” I said, glad the rain hid the tear sliding down my cheek. “You couldn’t go without me even if you wanted to.”

  “Hey!” Grace shouted in mock offence. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Nothing at all,” I said with a grin.

  Grace gave me a playful shove as we turned onto the pathway that led to our house. “So, what do you think was up with that stone, anyway?” she asked. Then, her eyes lit up, and she gasped. “Wait! What if it was a dragon egg?”

  I cocked my head. “I think a dragon is a little bit too big to fit in an egg that small, Grace.”

  She shook her head with exasperation. “Well, obviously they aren’t full grown in the egg, you blockhead!” she shouted. “They’ve got to start out small, just like everything else!”

  We argued about dragon eggs and how small hatchlings might be the whole way back to the house, and then over supper. I was glad for the enthusiastic conversation; it was a good distraction from the myriad caustic thoughts gnawing at my mind. Images of tiny dragons as delicate and cute as the baby lambs we kept made me smile all the way to bed.