The Dragon’s Appraiser: Part Three (3 page)

Warily, Madja removed her hand from her mouth. “A little queasy.”

Irina sat the tray down on the table, her face brightening. “That’s wonderful! A friend of my cousin, she had the same sickness earlier this month. She lost her child before the sickness had run its course.”

Throat tightening, Madja averted her gaze. A few seconds later, the side of the bed dipped as Irina sat down beside her. Glancing back at her, Madja could see worry in Irina’s blue gaze.

“You did know…didn’t you?”

Madja tried to wet her lips, but her tongue was too dry to do much more than scratch at them. Slowly, she nodded her head.

“I suspected as much.”

Suspected
. It was such a flimsy word, a word that had been swimming in her mind for over a month, loitering with its equally noncommittal friends:
perhaps, maybe,
and
possibly
. They were the words she used to shelter herself from facing the hard truth.

From the beginning, she had warned Sevrrn, and by proxy, herself, that there could be consequences to their sexual indulgences. Yet even as she’d done this, there had been a large part of her that had discounted these warnings with a sliver of belief and a heavy dose of naivety.

It won’t happen to
me.

Throughout history, many foolish women had believed that, but Madja considered her circumstance rather unique. After all, most women weren’t sharing their bed with a dragon. She had tried to reason that even though Sevrrn could take a human form, they couldn’t possibly make a child together.

Of course, like all of those women before her, she had been wrong, and she had spent the past several weeks trying to deny all of the signs that her stubborn body threw at her. The fatigue, the nausea, the mood swings, and her utter lack of a monthly cycle. More than once, she had been on the cusp of broaching the subject with Sevrrn, but cowardice and insecurity always got the best of her. It was as though she thought that by not speaking the words, the situation would remain abstract and not fully real. As her hand still clutched at the subtle, but undeniable swell of her belly, she inwardly laughed at how ridiculous that was.

“How did I get here?” Madja asked, deliberately changing the subject.

Irina passed her the cup, which contained a mildly fragrant tea. “Your companion brought you three nights ago. You were deathly ill.”

Madja sipped at the tea. It tasted like chamomile and honey. “You said you saw the illness before. What was it? Does it have a name?”

“Not really,” Irina said, shaking her head. “It’s easily treatable, only serious if you let it go unchecked for too long.”

That made sense, Madja thought. She had always taken modern medicine for granted, but then, she had grown up in a relatively wealthy home and had never had to go without it.

“I suspect it hit you particularly hard because of the baby. Your immunity isn’t quite up to par with normal standards.”

Madja nodded, but found she was eager to change the subject again. She was only just accepting her condition and words like ‘child’ and ‘baby’ made her stomach lurch.

“And my…companion… Did he leave?”

She tried to sound casual, but her voice hitched a little at the end.

“Oh no,” Irina said, patting Madja on the thigh. “He has hardly left since you arrived. He went to the marketplace with my father, to help him carry back the merchandise. He’s been such a comfort these past few days.”

Madja’s eyes widened in surprise. She found it hard to picture Sevrrn doing mundane tasks and chores.

“I only hope I can find a husband half so capable,” Irina said, appearing wistful. “Father just isn’t as capable these days.”

Madja nodded her understanding. Her own father had been older when she was born, but had always harbored a youthful exuberance that Madja herself couldn’t quite match. Had he not been executed eight years ago, she may very well have lived to see him crippled by age.

She listened to Irina talk while finishing her tea. When she was done, Madja set the cup aside and moved to climb out of bed, intent on relieving her bladder. Irina rushed to help her to her feet and Madja was glad that she did. After almost a week of convalescence, the muscles of her legs were nearly incapable of holding her up.

Irina helped her to the water closet and then took it upon herself to assist Madja in washing up. She was grateful for everything that Irina had done for her, but the coward in Madja wondered if it would have been easier to have just let the sickness take her. It was a horrible thought, made even more awful by the fact that her life was no longer her own, but she was afraid. No matter what happened next, one thing was certain. Her life was about to get a whole lot more complicated.

S
evrrn was a master of stealth
. His talent was born not of ever having to hide, but rather from wanting to spy. His true form was frightening to lesser beings and therefore if he wanted to observe them in their natural state, he would have to do it without their knowledge. Bending the light around himself was his primary means of cloaking, but that only fooled one of the senses. Over the years, he had learned to slow his heartbeat, to breathe silently, and above all, to move without making a sound. That was why it was so odd that Madja always sensed his presence.

His footsteps did not disturb the old wooden floorboards, nor did he make any noise to announce himself, but nevertheless her head turned in his direction the moment he came to stand in the doorway.

Her face was still pale, her cheeks still hollow, but there was a spark of life in her eyes that he had not seen in days. And her scent, it no longer smelled of death. In fact, she smelled clean and he realized that he didn’t like it. There was only the barest trace of his scent left on her. He wanted her to smell like him, the way she had smelled for the past few months.

Primitive impulse, the one that always seemed in control when it came to her, urged him to take her right there on the bed. He needed to feel her skin against his, needed to cover her in his perspiration, needed to thrust inside of her wet body. His hand clenched as he felt himself begin to harden with need.

She was still weak. Fatigue was evident on her face and in her sagging posture. Part of him did not care and wanted to take her anyway, but another part of him, a part that seemed both rational and illogical, was able to reign in the beast.

In long strides, he made his way to her bedside. There was an empty space beside her and he toyed with the idea of climbing in next to her and simply holding her body against his own. After a second of indecision, he decided that desire served no purpose.

“Hey, you,” she said, her mouth forming a tentative smile.

Her lips were cracked and dry, but in that moment they had never seemed quite so appealing. He reached out to run a finger over them, causing her to flinch with discomfort. Still feeling the need to touch her, his fingers moved to the curve of her jawline, then trailed down her neck.

As he touched her, something within him seemed to click into place. For the first time in days, he felt…whole. This should have been a relief, but instead, it was disturbing. When had that happened? When had he needed her to feel complete? Would it now be like this forever, or would she consume more and more of him until a day came when he did not just need her to feel whole, but would need her to live?

He withdrew his hand, clasping it in the other to mask a tremor of disquiet.

“It is good to see that you are well,” he said, the words sounding stiff even to his own ears. “I am ready to leave now.”

Madja tucked a lock of hair behind her ear. “I don’t know if I’m quite ready yet. I’m having a little trouble walking. I’ll need a few days to get my strength back.”

“I will carry you,” he said. “I’d rather not spend another day in this disease-ridden cesspool.”

For lack of anything better to do, Sevrrn had spent the past few days assisting the innkeeper. In the mornings, just before sunrise, they would go to the docks to bid on fish. While Sevrrn found the smell to be foul, he rather enjoyed the auction process. In many ways, it was like a battle, only you could defeat your opponents by sheer force of wealth.

After they brought the fish back to the inn, it was off to the marketplace. Haggling with shopkeepers was not as exciting as the fish auction, but Sevrrn did find that it allowed him to practice certain facial expressions. He had discovered that in negotiating prices, the words you used did not matter so much as the tone in which they were spoken and the way in which you carried yourself. Oftentimes, the merchants would seek to exploit the feeble old innkeeper, and when that happened, Sevrrn would step in. With his towering height, raised chin, and steely gaze, he needed only to say the price they were going to pay and the merchants would scramble to accommodate him.

Sevrrn was drawn back to the present by the soft sound of Madja’s laughter. He had never known such a soothing sound in all of his life and once again he was struck with the urge to hold her. He refrained.

“You’re being a little dramatic,” she said, giving him a lop-sided grin.

He wasn’t at all. During his time in the town, he had seen many humans afflicted with various ailments. From what the innkeeper told him, there had been various outbreaks of sickness and disease over the past few weeks. With foreign trade cut off, few medicines were available. Many of the necessary herbs for these remedies simply did not grow on the island, and given the thriving trade economy, limited efforts had been made to produce them locally. Madja had been very fortunate to get one of the few sicknesses that a native-grown plant could easily cure, but each day they stayed in the town was another day they risked her being exposed to one that was not.

Before he could figure out how to frame this into a response, Madja began tapping her chin.

“Hey, did you make me chicken soup?”

He frowned. “In a manner of speaking.”

Madja beamed. “I thought I remembered that! I had no idea you knew how to cook.”

There was admiration in her gaze and Sevrrn felt his chest puff out. For a moment, he almost felt proud. Then, he remembered something that made his mood darken.

“It did not help,” he told her. “Nothing
I
did helped you.”

Her hand moved to his and she patted it as though to reassure him. Instead, it reminded him that he needed reassuring. It was only one of the many new needs she had created in him, just like the need to talk to someone and the need to mate and the need to be touched. All of these new imperatives, and somehow she was the only solution. How convenient.

“I’m fine now,” she told him. “You don’t have to worry, I’ll be okay.”

“Until the next time you become ill.”

It was only when she recoiled that he realized how harshly he’d made the statement.

“I’m human, Sevrrn. There’s nothing either of us can do to change that.”

“You cannot do anything, but I can,” he said, his back straightening and his chin rising. “I will find a way not only to make you immortal, but immune to disease as well.”

She let out a heavy sigh. The sound normally annoyed him and today was no exception. “Why don’t we talk about this later? There are more important things we should probably discuss.”

This again?

“I do not care about the island, nor which humans presume to own it. I care about you, and only you.”

Her mouth fell open. It was a bold declaration, and perhaps a bit exaggerated by his tumultuous mental state. Of course there were other things he cared about, but he could not seem to remember what those were at the moment.

“When we return to the lair, I will be leaving for the other realm,” he told her. “There is a way to make you immortal, and I will find it.”

“And how long do you plan on searching?”

“However long it takes.”

“And for what?” she said, sounding exasperated. “Even if you could find a way to make me stay young forever and never get sick, I could just as easily die some other way. What are you going to also find a way to make it so that my bones never break, so nothing can pierce my skin, so I can never drown—”

“I will keep you safe,” he growled. Both of his hands had become fists at his side and he could feel his claws digging into his flesh.

“You can’t keep me safe from everything! One day, I’ll die, and there’s nothing wrong with that, it’s natural. Look, maybe I’m just young and naïve, maybe one day I’ll wake up and beg you to make me immortal, but right now, I’m not afraid to die.”

I am afraid
.

He couldn’t force the words from himself, so instead they festered inside of him, making him belligerent.

“As you are, there is no place for you in my life,” he said coldly. “You can either accept immortality, or stay here amongst your own kind.”

The small amount of color in her face drained, and Sevrrn felt some satisfaction. But when she hesitated, that feeling was replaced by something else.

Apprehension
.

He had said the words merely to force her hand, but now she was considering them, as though leaving him were actually an option. He wanted to backtrack, but knew that if he did, she would see his weakness. He could not allow that, could not let her know how much power she had over him.

Madja looked down at her hands, which were now clasped in her lap.

“I’ll go with you,” she said. Then, more to herself, she added, “It’s not like I have much of a choice at this point.”

It was the answer he wanted, but he regained not even the smallest semblance of satisfaction. Instead, her response left a sour taste in his mouth.

T
hey stayed
another day in Bern. Had Madja’s health not been in jeopardy, Sevrrn may have been reluctant to leave the town this time around. Once her life had no longer been in danger, he had almost come to enjoy himself.

He had always taken comfort in routines, and their simple lives provided much of that. Every day was the same. They woke up at the same time, went to the fish market at the same time, set out for the market at dawn, and returned back to the inn three hours before noon. Yet, despite the routine, there were just enough variances to keep things interesting. Each day, they would barter with different merchants, purchase different goods, and take their lunch at different stalls. He would miss it, perhaps.

The old man had procured them two horses for their travel back to the capital. Of course, he had no idea that Sevrrn and Madja were actually heading to the mountain, or that Sevrrn had no need for the pack animals. But once Madja had seen the horses, she had become terribly excited, asking if they could keep them.

“I was not aware you were fond of horse meat,” Sevrrn had said.

Madja had appeared shocked. “We aren’t going to eat them!”

What else would they do with them?

Still, Sevrrn did not object. It was the first time she had seemed happy since their fight the afternoon before.

Fight
.

Sevrrn had always associated that word with claws, teeth, and blood, not with words and feelings. He much preferred his former definition.

They left Bern, guided by early morning sunlight. Madja rode, while Sevrrn dragged his belligerent beast along. Unlike the humans, it could see through his human façade and refused to allow him to mount, not that he cared. It was bad enough that Madja would now smell like a horse. He’d probably be picking fleas from her by the time they arrived back at his lair.

They traveled in silence, which left Sevrrn to his own thoughts—dangerous territory as of late. But for once, he wasn’t thinking of Madja, but rather of the innkeeper. He was so feeble and his condition worsened by the day. What would he do now that Sevrrn was gone? How would he carry fish back from the auction? How would he negotiate good prices at the market? Who would he talk to over lunches?

That is not my concern
, he decided. He was a dragon. He had much more important things to do than spend time with an old human.

When they arrived back at the lair, Madja took a bath while Sevrrn tried to figure out what to do with the horses. She was clean and wearing fresh clothes by the time he returned, and he was pleased that she did not smell like a horse. He had wanted to mate with her, but she still appeared tired, a fatigue that seemed to go deeper than her flesh. He did not have to attempt anything to know that she wouldn’t be ‘in the mood.’

So instead, he decided it was time for him to go. Madja’s new mood was disturbing him, and perhaps once he returned with the means to make her immortal, she would have come to her senses.

Madja listened quietly as he explained how long he would be gone—a few weeks, perhaps a month. There was plenty of food for her, stored in a cool, easily accessible chamber.

He had expected her to protest, to ask him not to leave, but she just nodded to everything, her expression neutral. She was letting him leave, letting him pursue the means to make her immortal; but once again, this did not feel like a victory.

Why was it that she could give him everything he wanted, but make him feel as though he had gotten nothing at all?

M
adja had thought
things would get better once Sevrrn was gone, that some time apart from him would make her see things more clearly; but as usual, she was wrong.

The first hour he was gone, she had cried. A lot.

She had cried because she felt stifled. Even though Sevrrn was making great strides in becoming more considerate, he was an inherently selfish being. No matter how much progress he made, he would always be a dragon, would always be powerful, and would always expect to have his way.

She had cried because she felt trapped in their relationship. Even though he had given her an out, had told her she could stay in Bern, it had only been the illusion of choice. Aside from the fact that she was carrying his child, she was in love with him. How could she spend her life living in the shadow of his mountain, knowing that she’d chosen a mortal life over a life with him? How could any human man ever compare to the dragon that had once been hers?

She had cried because she was afraid. She was afraid of spending even a mortal lifetime with a man who did not love her, let alone an eternity. There would come a time when they would run out of items to appraise and things to talk about. There would come a time when he would lose interest in her body, perhaps even wonder what it would be like to be with another woman—if he didn’t already. After all, what were the odds that she, a simple human woman and the first woman he really ever got to know, would be the one for him?

Madja thought about all of these things during the next week, as she puttered around the lair, lonely and bored. To occupy herself, she made a project of building a house. After clearing off a small section of the floor, she began carefully stacking coins, slowly building them into walls. A single stack would always topple once it reached a certain height, but she found that if she bolstered the walls four stacks deep, she could build the walls beyond her head.

She had just finished the first room of her house when she decided to take a break. She lay back on the stone floor, one hand behind her head for support. She had not yet figured out how to make a ceiling, and so she was able to stare up at the sky, which was blanketed with dark gray clouds.

One thing Sevrrn had forgotten was that Madja had no idea how to start a fire. Customarily, he lit a large bonfire for her once night descended on the island. It was less for warmth and more for light as, unlike the dragon, she could see very little once the sun set. Thankfully, the island had a semi-tropical climate and winters were, at their worst, chilly.

As she lay on the floor, her free hand flitted over her belly. In the week that had passed, she’d given some consideration towards the life that grew within her and what it meant for her future, but mostly she was just apprehensive. Given her circumstances, it was hard to take much joy in the prospect of being pregnant, particularly because she had no idea how Sevrrn was going to react.

When she had mentioned this was a possibility, Sevrrn had said that it would be, what was the word? Oh, right.
Interesting
.

Madja cringed. What the hell did that even mean, and how had she just accepted that answer at the time?

Either he hadn’t cared either way if he’d impregnate her, or worse still, what if he, like her, had just assumed it wouldn’t actually be possible? He didn’t seem to know a whole lot about his human body.

Which of course posed another issue. Sevrrn was still struggling with emotions, with his feelings towards her, how would he handle even the prospect of fatherhood? Madja thought it might overload him to the point of an emotional coma.

But the thing that scared her more than anything, and the reason she’d been too much of a coward to tell him the night that he left, was the possibility that he would be neither pleased nor displeased by the news, simply indifferent. She hoped he’d be happy, and she could deal with him being upset, but what if he really just didn’t care? What if he took no interest in their child at all? How could she bear that?

Madja sighed, rubbing her belly more firmly. “You know, a month ago, I was worrying over whether he would ever love me. Now I think I’d be happy if he’d even just
like
you.” She frowned and glanced down at her belly. “Does that mean
I’m
starting to like you? You don’t even exist yet. Not really.”

Another thing she had discovered in the past week, was that although she wasn’t yet sold on the idea of being pregnant, she did kind of like having someone to talk to. And in a quiet corner of her mind, she secretly, and guiltily, was happy to think she might have someone to love that would instinctively love her back. She thought that maybe, once her child was born, she would be a little more okay with Sevrrn not loving her.

Which, of course, was horrible of her. How could she put so much pressure on a baby?

“You should know that I’m already a terrible mother,” she said, this time giving her belly a small poke. Even through her robes, she could make out the slight mound where her child resided. If she was being completely honest, her expanding middle had been the main reason she’d been turning Sevrrn away from sex. Turning Sevrrn down was no easy feat.

“I’m not even sure how old you are, or when you’ll be born,” she went on to say. It had been over three months since she’d come to live with Sevrrn. Her cycles had always been timely, but it was impossible to keep track of the dates while in his lair. She hypothesized that it must have happened early, perhaps even the first time they’d been together.

Either that, or her baby was just freakishly large. Or maybe it wasn’t a baby at all, maybe she’d give birth to a dragon.
Could
she give birth to a dragon? She cringed at the thought, but as she rubbed her belly, the expression morphed into a lazy smile.

A cool breeze swept through the lair and Madja closed her eyes. She sighed, but this time it was a contented one. She was tired and long overdue for her afternoon nap. There was only about an hour of light left to her, but she thought that maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to just sleep through till morning.

She drifted for a little while, maybe she even fell asleep, but some time later, her peace was abruptly shattered.

A loud
boom
startled her awake. Madja shot up in time to feel the ground quake. Her house of coins came crashing down around her in a shimmering avalanche. There weren’t enough coins to do any real damage, but she dove out of the way regardless.

Three more
booms
sounded in the distance. The massive piles of coins and treasures were dimly illuminated in the scant moonlight and Madja could see them trembling as the ground shook beneath them. Her first thought was that it was some sort of earthquake, but then recognized that it didn’t explain the loud noises.

After barely a moment’s hesitation, she decided to get a better vantage point. She considered scaling the walls to look out the hole in the ceiling, but decided it would probably be too dangerous. Instead, she put on a pair of slippers and climbed up to the passageway that led outside.

She had counted over a hundred more of the
booms
by the time she made it outside. The entrance to the lair was positioned on a high bluff, giving her a solid view of the northwestern part of the island. If she squinted, she could make out dozens of dark figures on the water—ships. The wind carried the scent of smoke and gunpowder and she could see fires in the distance. Not Bern, but another port town not far from it.

The Allonan armada had arrived. Were the people prepared? Were they safe? Or were they waiting for a god that wouldn’t come?