Highland Dragon (The Treasure of Paragon #6) - Genevieve Jack Page 0,45
folks keep their ancestors’ wares.”
“Should be easy enough. All the people here have been around for generations, right?”
Xavier rubbed his chin. “In theory, but goin’ door to door askin’ for iron weapons might not serve our cause. Lachlan will have poisoned the clan’s mind about me by now, and Glenna says they’re after ye as well.”
“Right.” Avery spread her hands. “There must be another way. This shouldn’t be hard. We are literally living in a cottage with a brownie. Shouldn’t one fairy know how to capture another?”
Xavier raised an eyebrow and muttered something in Gaelic. The brownie appeared by his side. After an exchange of words and squeaks, the furry man led them both to a trunk at the back of the cottage. Avery had noticed the chest before, but it was covered in a musty quilt and a layer of dust. She removed the quilt and a puff of dust rose into the air. She coughed and covered her mouth and nose with her hands.
Xavier reached down to lift the lid and magic swirled in the air. Avery only recognized it from the time she’d raised the circle with her sister Clarissa. The air grew thick and her skin tingled. The chest vibrated as if there was something alive inside it.
Xavier lifted the lid.
“Books!” she said.
Xavier glanced back at the brownie, and the furry man bowed and then disappeared. “This was not whit I was expectin’.”
“What were you expecting?”
“I didna want to scare the fella by askin’ how to murder his kind, ye ken?”
She nodded.
“So I asked to learn more about fairies. I wasna expectin’ a library.”
She selected one of the tomes and opened it. “This is filled with sketches of fairies. All the labels are in Gaelic.”
He grunted and selected another book, flipping through the pages. “Must be somethin’ here. And it looks like most of them are in English.”
Avery groaned and tilted her head back. “When I said I would help you, I didn’t know there would be research involved.”
“Ye donna like books?”
“Oh, I love to read… fiction. I’m just not much of an academic. School was never really my thing. I mean, certain subjects clicked. Others…”
“Aye. Ma talents as a young dragon lay more in the fighting pits than the classroom as well.”
Darkness passed behind his normally bright eyes, and she couldn’t help but wonder at what haunting memories must have caused such an expression. “Did you like fighting?” she asked, closing the book in her hands. The man in front of her was far more interesting than anything within its pages. “Nathaniel said you were the best of any of his siblings.”
Xavier gave a deep grunt that she interpreted as agreement. “In Paragon, every dragon male is taken to the pits when they’re old enough to hold a weapon. We were no exception. The Highborns entertain themselves by watching their whelps fight.”
“Highborns—that was the aristocracy, right?”
He nodded. “Our father, Killian, coached us, but he took special interest in me. Because we were heirs to the throne, our lessons were longer and harder than the others’. Not that it mattered. The other Highborn children were taught never to win against us, just as we were taught never to defeat our eldest brother Marius.”
“Some of the matches were fixed?”
“Aye. They were, although it was an unspoken rule. A confusing one at that for a bairn who didn’t know the why of it. I remember one match when I rebelled and let a male from a lower caste win. He broke my arm and my wing. I crawled to Killian, injured and in the worst pain I’d ever felt, and he picked me up and sent me back into the pit.”
Avery’s stomach turned. “He made you fight injured?”
“Aye. ‘Donna come out until ye’ve won,’ he said. And I dinna. I pummeled my opponent bloody. Couldn’t move for a week afterward.”
The idea of a young Xavier fighting for his life in the pit gave Avery a chill. She opened her mouth to say something and couldn’t find the words. In the end, she gave up on trying and looked down at the books in her hand.
Xavier reached in and picked up another tome. “So…”
She sighed. “All right. Well, I guess we should get started… reading… these old books.” She rocked back on her heels.
“Would ye like a whisky to dull the pain?” He gave her that charming, crooked smile.
“That’ll work.”
She settled into a chair at the table while he fetched a bottle and two glasses from the stash of