The Child Prince (The Artifactor) (50 page)

The water dragon leaned his head in closer, tilting it so that he could see clearly with one eye. “THIS IS EXQUISITE.”

“It’s an earring.” Bellomi juggled it slightly so that he could point out the different clamps. “This part clamps to the lower part of your ear, and this clamp goes up higher so the chain can dangle. It’s made for a dragon’s ear.”

The water dragon leaned in closer, nostrils flaring, tail twitching. The expression reminded Bellomi eerily of Baby when he saw something he just had to have. “I can put it on for you, if you wish?” he offered a little tentatively.

He barely had the sentence out before the dragon’s head was flat on the ground, head tilted so Bellomi could reach. Right. That was obviously a yes. Biting his lip to keep from laughing (dragons had strong pride, after all) he reached up and clamped the earring onto the lower lobe of the dragon’s ear. It felt surprisingly supple, although still hard enough to give hardened wood stiff competition. With care, he reached up higher, following the sloping tip of the ear, and clamped it on so that the delicate gold chain had just enough room to jingle but not enough play to get caught on something.

Sevana spun her wand into the air, whispering a spell, causing the air to shimmer and harden into a round, reflective surface. “Care to see how it looks?”

The dragon turned his head just enough to catch sight of himself in the mirror. His eyes half-closed in pleasure at the sight, and this time the tail thumped in a noticeable rhythm. “YESSS.”

Bellomi watched this reaction with bemusement and no little amusement. Didn’t it occur to the dragons to actually
wear
the gold they hoarded?

Gathering up his dignity, the dragon sat back up, although one eye kept straying to the mirror from time to time. “YOU ARE GENEROUS, HUMAN.”

“You have done me a great service,” Bellomi returned with spread hands, almost in a bow. “I wanted to show my appreciation.”

The dragon let out a low hum that vibrated the very ground they stood on. “HUMAN. WHAT ARE YOU CALLED?”

Sevana hissed in a shocked breath. Bellomi nearly swallowed his own tongue. Dragon’s didn’t care about human names. They very, very rarely asked for them. To be asked such a question was an honor in and of itself. “I am Bellomi Christoff Vogel braun Dragonmanovich, Prince and future King of Windamere.”

“I AM BRAMITHE.” The dragon dipped his head a fraction in greeting. “IF EVER YOU HAVE NEED OF A DRAGON’S POWER OR STRENGTH, YOU MAY CALL ON ME. I WILL DEAL WITH YOU.”

“You honor me, Bramithe.” Bellomi somehow managed to say levelly, as if his heart hadn’t just leaped out of his chest. “I will remember your offer.”

Satisfied, the dragon took one last, lingering look in the mirror before spreading his wings again. He lifted up his crate of gold with one hind leg, easily, as if it didn’t weigh a ton. Then with a last nod to his new human friend, he took to the sky with a powerful up thrust.

Bellomi felt battered by the strong beat of the wings, but he had so much practice now in keeping his feet, that he didn’t falter. He did, however, feel mentally floored. When Bramithe was out of sight, he turned to Sevana and said faintly, “When was the last time a dragon gave such an offer to a human?”

“When Aerts de Vos, the great magician of the last era, returned a lost dragon egg to its mother,” she rattled off the answer promptly but her eyes were just as wide as his. “Bel, just where did you get that earring?”

“Sarsen made it for me. He suggested making it, actually. He said making a reputation among dragons about being generous would be wise.” Bellomi thanked the gods that he followed that advice. He almost hadn’t.

“Sarsen, eh? I’m not as surprised now. The man’s always thinking up things like this.” Shaking her head, she cancelled the mirror spell, letting it fade and disappear. “I need to sit down.”

His knees felt weak enough to send him straight to the ground. “I’m with you,” Bellomi said fervently.

They had quite the celebration that night, everyone pitching in and taking good food to the table, with Sarsen surprising everyone and bringing out a guitar that he played. Aren had his son tell everyone each time he had a dragon’s encounter, with every detail included, and no one seemed bored at the recounting.

Sevana had never been one for parties, but if someone applied a judicious amount of lye and thumb screws, she would have grudgingly admitted she enjoyed this one. She sat in a corner of the main room, legs tucked up underneath her, mug of mulled cider in hand, and watched everyone else. After months (in some cases, years) of strain, this evening represented an end and a new beginning, and the festive mood reflected that.

Bel especially seemed to be almost beside himself with happiness. His bright smile glowed as he went from person to person, talking, laughing, and offering food. With Hana, he picked her up and swung her about several times, laughing as she protested.

Sarsen finally took a break from playing and sat down in a nearby chair with a thump and squeak of chair’s springs. From the side of his mouth, he muttered, “You’re smiling, Sev.”

She promptly put her mug to her mouth, letting the warm rush of spices wipe away any trace of a smile. “Am not.”

“Nothing wrong with that,” he assured her, dark eyes twinkling. “No sin in admitting that you’re happy for the boy, or that you’re enjoying yourself.”

Snorting at his sentimental words, she retorted, “Next you’re going to claim I’m fond of him.”

“You most certainly are.” He patted her arm, grin turning wicked. “But it’s alright, I know that you’d bite your own tongue trying to say that. You don’t need to hurt yourself.”

Gormless berk. “You do remember that he is, in fact, three years my senior?”

Sarsen blinked at her, then turned and studied Bel for a long moment. “I actually
had
forgotten that. He looks to be of an age with you.”

Bel hadn’t touched the grow-for-true-love bed in weeks. Sevana suspected that he wouldn’t ever climb into that bed again. He wanted to grow old at the same rate as Hana, after all, and few men had a choice on whether they could do that or not.

“You’ll likely miss him when he’s gone back to the palace,” Sarsen continued, sounding sincerely sympathetic this time.

That knowing tone if his irked her and she shot him a challenging look as she drawled, “Miss him? Miss being woken up at bird’s hours because he’s gotten into mischief? Miss having to rescue him from tangling with dragons? Miss patching him up when he’s done something stupid, competing with Baby? Miss having to cook and clean up after him? Pah!”

Sarsen’s sympathetic smile deepened. “Yes, you’ll miss the boy. After all, the more you complain about a man, the more you like ‘em.”

Of all the ridiculous notions. She snorted and drank more of her cider. “You’re one to talk. What made you think of that earring?”

“Master’s idea,” Sarsen admitted with a shrug. “Some great magician in the past did something similar and made friends with a dragon. Or so he said.”

Sevana raised her eyes to the heaven in a bid for patience. She knew better than to ask which dragon or magician. Sarsen had never had any patience with history and didn’t retain more than the basics for more than five minutes. Master had been at his wit’s end trying to cram enough information into Sarsen’s head for him to be a full-fledged Artifactor. He’d almost flunked the history part of his exam for his Artifactor license because of that. She’d have to go look it up herself if she wanted to know. “It was a good idea. The dragon, Bramithe, loved it.”

“So Bel told me.” Sarsen gave a smug smile, as well he should. 

A loud popping sound from the other side of the room caught their attention. Pierpoint was in the middle of it, excitedly explaining some sort of game that he had set up on a table in front of him. Everyone but she and Sarsen were hovering around him, all listening attentively and asking questions.

Jerking her chin to indicate the group, she asked in bewilderment, “Where
are
all of these games coming from?”

“Bel,” Sarsen answered promptly. “He’s fascinated with them. Makes sense—growing up, no one was around to play with him.”

He was certainly making up for lost time. She had a whole corner full of them now.

Sarsen turned slightly so he could watch the group more comfortably without craning his neck. “Hard to believe how much he’s grown since I got here. He reaches my nose, now.”

Yes, and he was strong enough to pick her up. When exactly had that happened? Sevana knew that he trained daily, in every possible martial skill that a prince should possess, but it never truly sank in what that meant until he’d so easily lifted her in his arms. His body didn’t quite match the man inside, but it was close, much closer than it had been. She could see now, a little, what Hana saw when she looked at Bel.

“Morgan says he’s almost ready to turn loose on the world, too.” Sarsen said in an almost rhetorical fashion, as if he didn’t expect her to respond.

“He can charm the warts right off a toad, that one,” she grumbled, ruefully acknowledging that she must have a soft spot for the boy after all. One that was in her head, at that.

“Is that why you help him?” Sarsen teased, eyes twinkling in unvoiced laughter.

“I help him because I want him
out of my mountain,
” she retorted.

“Yes, yes.” Shaking his head, he rose from his chair. “I think I’ll join in the game. It looks interesting. What about you?”

“Oh no, I’m not going anywhere near that thing,” she denied with a vehement shake of the head. “Pierpoint brought it, and the last time I was near a game he invented, my skin was purple for three hours. You cannot
pay
me to play it. I’ll watch here, from the safety of my chair.”

With an unconcerned shrug, Sarsen turned for the group, calling out a question of the games rules as he walked.

Sevana stayed in her chair, as she’d said she would, and watched them play. As expected, someone within the first round earned a punishment and had their skin dyed an interesting shade of green for five minutes, much to everyone else’s amusement. As long as it didn’t happen to her, Sevana found it funny as well. She basked in the heat the fire radiated, watched the hilarity as the game ensued, and hid a contented smile behind the mug in her hands.

~ ~ ~

He couldn’t sleep that night. Bellomi lay down with every intention to do so, but ended up tossing and turning, fighting with his covers. After an hour or so, he gave up and left the bed altogether, changing back into the clothes he’d discarded. In sheer habit, he picked up his swords as he left the room.

At times, like now, he simply couldn’t bear to be inside. His feet took him out of Big without any conscious direction, going out the front door and into the cool night air. Once he closed the door behind him, he took in a deep lungful, inhaling the rich scents of the forest. Oddly, it didn’t help soothe his restlessness. Normally it did, but tonight he felt unsettled.

Strange, this wasn’t what he expected on his first night of freedom. After ten years of being caged and cursed, he’d thought he’d be ecstatic to shed its heavy coils. And he did feel that way to a large degree. He’d thoroughly enjoyed the celebratory party with everyone. But some other emotion lurked in his chest, something that he couldn’t name or recognized. It felt hot and hard, weighing at him.

Not understanding this emotion, he kept walking, feeling driven to keep moving. He stretched his legs out in a quick pace that took him around the base of the mountain and onward into the edge of Noppers Woods. Upon stepping into the tree line, some instinct warned him that he had a tagalong and he spared a quick glance behind him. Baby? Ahh. The cat must have seen him leave and followed. Strangely, though, he didn’t try to catch up with his human student, just trailed along in the shadows.

Perhaps he sensed that Bellomi didn’t want company right then. He did appreciate the cat’s presence, though. He knew very well now the dangers that these woods harbored and a part of him had been doubtful of going in during the dead of night. But if any danger came close, Baby would alert him and help him fight it off. He could more or less safely continue now if he wanted to.

Without really thinking about it, he continued on to the clearing that he and Hana had spoken in not so long ago. Now, of course, it had nothing but moonlight in it, leaving a clearing all around him. He stopped in the center of it and lifted his face to the sky.

He’d never been able to see the moon properly until he came to Sevana’s home. His window had faced the wrong direction. Strange, then, how looking up into that pale white surface made him feel nostalgic in a way. So many things that he’d missed because of being locked in that room. Until tonight, he hadn’t realized just how much. But seeing Sevana easily speak and tease Sarsen and Morgan made it clear to him. He’d never had a childhood friend. Now, he never would. All of the experiences in his childhood that he should have had—being spoiled by his parents, getting into silly fights, going on long voyages around the world just for the sake of curiosity—all of it.
All of it
he missed because of greedy men and their selfish ambitions.