Page 72 of Ties of Legacy

If the people of Bolivere were watching for Avery’s arrival, they must have been looking west, toward the river. Entering from the east, Avery, Mattie, and Elliot arrived in the town without fanfare.

It looked tired and subdued compared to Elliot’s memories, with none of the added shine he had been expecting given the distribution of his father’s wealth. The crack in the retaining wall of the dam—the same one he remembered from his childhood—made his hands clench into fists. What exactly had his father’s funds been used for?

As they walked the streets, the sight of the houses and buildings shook Elliot just as he had feared they would, flooding him with memories of his father. The familiar views cut at him, the small changes emphasizing how much time had passed since he had last walked the streets of his hometown. He caught sight of several missing buildings, but none of the new construction he had been expecting.

As they wound toward the center of town, he caught a glimpse of the manor where it perched on higher ground just north of the town. For an unthinking moment, his heart swelled with joy, and he was gripped by an unreasoning certainty that his father would be waiting for him around the next corner.

But reality returned, and his second sight of the stately home made his stomach sour. The happy years he had spent there were tainted by memory of his loss.

A youth running past slowed to look at them curiously. Elliot watched him cautiously, wondering how old the lad would have been when Elliot left Bolivere. Would he recognize Elliot?

But the boy’s eyes caught on Avery. They widened as his whole face lit up. Almost tripping in his haste, he turned and fled without a greeting, his voice calling the news of Avery’s return through the town.

People flooded out in response to his cries, converging on the travelers as they arrived in the central town square. Elliot had been planning to hang back as far as the lamp would allow—possibly even hiding himself between some of the buildings—but the crowd that surged around them made escape impossible. Quickly gathering the reins of the three horses, he positioned himself behind the two merchant women, grateful that Avery was the center of everyone’s attention.

“Has anyone run to the big house?” he heard several voices calling.

“Yes, two boys have gone,” one faceless person replied.

“I saw Corbett in town not twenty minutes ago,” another chipped in. “He’s probably still here. Has anyone seen him?”

Corbett? Elliot frowned at the familiar name. Why were the townspeople searching for the mischievous youth who had been the first to tell him the tale of the dragon in the cave?

But eight years had passed. Of course Corbett would no longer be a youth. He hadn’t truly been a youth even when Elliot left.

Elliot searched his memory and dredged up an old recollection. Just before he left Bolivere, his father had mentioned his steward’s plans to retire—and his intention to appoint Corbett in the man’s place. Elliot had been surprised to hear it—Corbett had been barely twenty-two at the time, and Elliot had pictured stewards as aged, solemn people.

He hadn’t protested, though. At thirteen he hadn’t involved himself with running the estate. And even he would have admitted that Corbett had steadied significantly since he had first told a four-year-old Elliot to be wary of the dragon.

But Elliot had forgotten his father’s words in the intervening years, and when Avery had shared the truth of Bolivere’s situation with Mattie around the campfire the previous night, he hadn’t thought of his old acquaintance. She had mentioned doing business with the steward without mentioning his name, and Elliot had pictured the ancient man who had served throughout his childhood.

Before he had adjusted to the thought of Corbett in such a position of authority, a man stepped forward, the crowd parting before him. Elliot stared at the face—at once familiar and unfamiliar.

There was no mistaking his identity. Despite the years, Elliot could clearly recognize Corbett. But his face held lines of age that hadn’t been there when Elliot left. Like the three buildings that had been pulled down, and the new front to the bakery, Corbett’s face reminded Elliot of all the years he had missed.

His gaze roamed over the rest of the crowd as he finally allowed himself to focus on each face. He found familiar person after familiar person, each with the same juxtaposition. Everywhere he looked, he saw recognizable features overlaid with new lines of age and maturity. Much had changed, and yet he knew these people. He recognized more than half the crowd, although he couldn’t have put a name to them all.

A strange sensation passed through him. It had been eight years since he had stood in a crowd of people and known more than a small handful of them.

“Avery!” Corbett exclaimed. “We thought we would get advance warning of your coming, but even so, we’ve been watching the river. But you came from the east?”

Avery smiled. “My journey didn’t go to plan.”

Corbett’s expression tightened. “But you got the lamp?”

Avery nodded, pulling it from her bag with a flourish. “As promised.”

Corbett relaxed, relief washing over his features as Avery held the lamp out to him. He took it carefully, gazing down at it for a moment before turning to the crowd.

“This scourge ends tomorrow! We will finally face the creature in its den and defeat it.”

The crowd cheered, their voices loud although the faces Elliot saw showed a mixture of relief and terror. They hadn’t forgotten that the battle was still ahead.

Corbett turned back to Avery. “I see you came with companions this time. You are all welcome, of course, and I’ll have rooms prepared for you in—” His words died as he turnedhis welcoming smile from Mattie to Elliot, shifting slightly to get a proper view of him.

His face paled momentarily, his eyes widening, and Elliot tensed, waiting for the words of condemnation and rejection. But instead, something that looked remarkably like joy and relief swept over Corbett’s face.

“Elliot?” He stepped between Avery and Mattie, the merchants forgotten. “I mean, Your Lordship!”

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