The Reckless Oath We Made - Bryn Greenwood Page 0,21

to release the smoke from his cigarettes. From the leavings upon the ground, he had smoked for many hours.

“What is thy purpose here?” ’Twas ill-mannered of me, but there was no reason he should be there unless he meant harm.

“None of your goddamn business, kid,” he said.

“Certs ’tis.”

“Public street. I can park here if I want.” He closed his window.

I walked back to my truck and thought upon what to do. Behind the seat lay several weapons—a sword, a mace, a dagger—but they could not serve me for the nonce. I returned to the man’s car with my phone that I might make an image of his license plate. Then he would leave, making a wanton sign with his hand ere he drove thence.

For a time, I stood in the street and thought of the lady dragon enthroned upon her hoard, alone. More alone than I, for when I departed the dragon’s lair, I followed a clear path to my father’s keep, where my lady mother prepared the morning meal at the hearth. There also, in the safety of my father’s household, was Lady Zhorzha. Lest Gawen should mock me, I held the thought for only a moment, but she glowed as ember in a heap of ash.

“Good morrow. Slept ye well?” I asked, upon finding my parents breaking their fast.

“Well enough,” my father said. “That CPAP may save my life yet.”

“If only because I won’t be tempted to smother you with a pillow,” my mother said.

“And the lady? How fared she?” I dared not speak her name, for she was still an ember to me, and I felt the warmth of her presence unseen.

“She had a hard time getting the little man settled down,” my father said. “He was pretty upset.”

“They must be exhausted, and the news about her sister isn’t great,” my mother said. “They found her car abandoned near the Nebraska border.”

“Her sister yet liveth?” I believed not that my parents possessed sure knowledge, but I longed to hear they held some hope for my lady’s sister.

“Well, it seems to me that if they’d done something to her they would’ve left her with the car when they ditched it. So I think that’s promising,” my father said.

’Twas my habit to bathe ere I broke my fast, but as I went down the passage, Lady Zhorzha opened the door of the guest chamber and stepped out. She wore naught but a blouse and her braies. I would spare her my gaze, but mine eyes caught upon the sight of her bare legs. Her right thigh was covered in black markings that graved her pale flesh. I knew not why. As a punishment? As a claim upon her?

“Oh, hey,” she said. “I was going to take a shower, but if you need the bathroom first, that’s cool. I can wait.”

“My lady.” I would assure her that she might do as she wished, but words came not to my tongue. Fearing that I gave offense, I bowed to her, but she retreated to her chamber.

Before my staring eyes, as she turned from me, the marking upon her shank gained the form of a fantastical beast—the hindquarters and tail of a dragon. In the strike of my heart, she leapt from ember to flame.

“Scarred like a pagan,” Hildegard said.

“Like a pagan priestess.” Gawen was right, for there was power in such graving.

In the bath, I opened the spigot and chastised myself for the heat in my blood. Hildegard lashed me, saying, “Art thou ashamed for thine eyes’ offense?”

“I averted my gaze,” I said.

“Wert thou pure of heart, thou wouldst not need to avert thine eyes. Thou couldst look upon her naked without shame.”

I protested not, tho ’twas untrue. I might do no such thing with a pure heart.

“She is thine to protect and no further,” Hildegard said, but the Witch said naught.

Gawen laughed and said, “The lady inflameth thy liver. Thou shalt have no relief but by thine own hand.”

Sooth, he was right.

CHAPTER 11

Zee

People say, “Stay as long as you need,” but they don’t mean that literally. Most people don’t even mean it past a week. No matter how good a guest you are, how cheerfully you help out around the house, eventually, your host starts to frown at the pile of blankets you try to keep out of sight when you’re not actually sleeping on the couch.

Even with LaReigne, I sometimes felt like she was giving me that look: Oh, you’re still here, sitting on the couch, waiting for me