Page 45 of Earth Dragon
“Yes, I kissed you,” Ewan agreed. “But only after you found ways to make me—”
He stopped himself, not willing to finish the sentence.
Make you what?she wanted to ask, but Petrus moved around the corner, and they all followed.
“Why the subterfuge?” she heard Sir Patrick ask Eric.
“Better to have fewer to no witnesses where we’re going at this time of night,” Eric replied. “It’s a place known for its particular clientele, if you know what I mean.”
Of course, Sir Patrick would not know what he meant, but he refrained from asking for elaboration.
The alleys were getting narrower, but the houses were still well-kept. The citadel was thriving. The king looked after them well, made sure they had everything they needed for a comfortable life. That said, the thatched roofs were blotting out the stars and the darkness seemed impossibly deeper as they entered an alley that was so narrow that they had to keep to a single file. Shannon’s shoulders were practically scraping the walls of the two buildings and the men all had to walk sideways to get through.
Finally, they entered a miniature square. It was round and surrounded by slender three-story cottages whose front doors all faced them. In the center of the square was a well. Its thatched roof gleamed silver in the one beam of moonlight that fell between the fat rooftops.
Still, the well itself and its roof looked too pristine. Brand new, though the square itself appeared ancient. Like stepping into a lost era. Where the rest of the citadel had a smooth grey stone for its buildings, these were made of wooden logs. Dark green moss grew between them, making the houses appear more like they should be part of the forest than a place bustling with life. The thatched roofs looked brand new. In fact, the moss glistened with dew that caught the barely present moonlight and glittered invitingly, even in the darkness of the square.
There was no question in Shannon’s mind that the place harbored magic, and powerful magic at that.
She felt the hairs on her neck and arms stand up in anticipation.
Whatever secrets one harbored, she felt they were not safe here. Readily plucked from one’s head and stored in jars, she had no doubt.
She reached for Ewan’s wrist, grasping it to make him stop.
“I don’t know if this is a good idea,” she said.
He smiled then. “Perhaps not for someone in your shoes,” he agreed. “I can assure you it’s one of the better ideas I’ve had. Would you rather go back? Eric could take you.”
Eric grunted in the dark at the thought of being excluded.
She felt a different kind of chill run down her back at the same thought. What would it mean if she turned heel and ran right now?
She rested her gaze on Ewan’s and knew that it would mean betraying her own hearts as they had never so strongly declared to her what the right course of action was.
She was staying.
“No,” she said, letting Ewan’s wrist go. “I shall remain with you for as long as you’ll have me.”
He gave her a look to save her poetry for someone else, then turned and lead the party into the middle of the square.
There were six houses, but Shannon realized there were seven doors.
She looked again.
Six rooftops, six housefronts, seven doors.
But she couldn’t quite make out which house the seventh door belonged to.
An illusion was covering it.
Was this a test? Would they have to shatter the illusion to step inside?
“Lady Marigold,” Ewan spoke, and the door finally settled between those of the second and third house from the left. “Your prince seeks an audience.”
Why was that name familiar?
The door opened slowly, the flickering of candlelight inviting them in.
