The meandering path finally widened, and they encountered many groups of fey traveling to the market. Siofra would have taken hold of Lysander and not let go, but he kept one hand on his knife. As it was, she kept close to the edge of the road with her head down. What she didn’t see, couldn’t hurt her.
Siofra heard the music before she saw the town. Her steps grew lighter and mood gayer. If not for Lysander at her side, she would have been tempted to skip and dance the rest of the way.
She held tightly to the pendant, muttering against it. “Must not dance. Must not buy. Listen here, pendant. I don’t want to go anywhere near a shop or stall that sells things. Keep me safe, pendant.”
What was she thinking? Lord, you know where I am and what is coming. Give me your wisdom.
Not one minute later, Siofra found her hand on her satchel. It would be best if she saw what she still had left. Using Lysander as cover on her right, she rifled the contents of the bag. A four-leaf clover that looked as fresh as the day she dropped it inside, yellow marigolds, the rowan, pink primrose, and St. John’s wort, all equally fresh. There was also that other package Mrs. Sgot had snatched up from beside the stove. What was in that?
Siofra smiled a smile of deep satisfaction. Goblins love mushrooms as much as I love cake. And she had some beauties in her bag. Thank you for reminding me, Lord.
By the time they reached the massive stone archway into the city, there was evidence of civilization everywhere. Carts. Animals. Abandoned baskets. Smoke trailing in the sky above the tallest part of the city towers. And the smell of roasted meat. Though Siofra’s stomach was full, her mouth still salivated.
The moment they passed under the portcullis, Siofra felt a change in the atmosphere. A fearsome creature who had walked most closely to her now seemed almost ordinary, like the round squat man who had looked like a gigantic troll. There were more humans around her than she had supposed. Obviously, glamours held no power in this place.
Lysander kept a wary watch on those who wandered too close. “Wrap that strap around your arm and keep the satchel well-tucked underneath your armpit. There are thieves and brigands who would cut the strap and walk away with your treasures.”
Siofra obeyed immediately and looked to him for approval. He stared at her face a moment then nodded.
“What? What is it? Do I have something on my face?”
“Nothing at all. Let’s keep moving.”
There were indeed stalls with everything imaginable lining either side of the cobblestone lane. The first contained baskets, leather pouches, and boxes of all sorts and sizes, the next crystal containers, as if they expected their visitors to need vessels to carry out new treasures.
Even though Siofra had no need of such things, she felt their pull. If she felt that way about something she didn’t need, how would she feel if she saw something useful? If only she could walk through blind-folded.
She turned to ask Lysander when she spotted a reflection in a window. A young woman of unearthly beauty stood beside Lysander, her mouth agape. Siofra jerked around, but there was no one behind her nor anywhere near Lysander.
Siofra stopped walking, and Lysander passed out of the reflection. The woman, however, did not. As she watched, her eyes grew large in wonder and horror. She took a step forward and reached out. The woman did the same. Siofra pulled her hand back and touched her hair. What she had considered a dull, flat blond was as shiny as spun gold, hiding ears with a definite point at the top. And her eyes! They were the color of the most brilliant blue cornflowers or a sparkling sapphire. Why, she was as beautiful as Lysander!
His face suddenly appeared beside her in the reflection. “Now, you see what I see. But, Siofra, it doesn’t change who you are.” He grasped her hand and kissed it. “You were beautiful to me before I saw through the glamour.”
Tears welled in her eyes, and she dashed them away. “Why didn’t you tell me?”
“It seemed of little importance, one way or another. You are still you, no matter what others see.”
She looked back at the reflection and realized she still saw the girl she thought she was, only now there were no imperfections. She was herself, only more. It might take time to become accustomed to this appearance.
She turned back to Lysander and smiled. “We should go on.”
They next reached the wine market, and the merchants hawked their wares with tiny samples. Siofra stayed well away. But she’d noticed something about the goblins. Although each one had skin with some level of green hue, only a few had green hair. And they came in all shapes and sizes, from short, tall, to giant, with lithe figures or extremely rotund. Some had teeth, or a few teeth, and some did not. A powder for teeth would not go amiss here.
The lane expanded into a market square, and the options were so wide and varied, Siofra couldn’t take it all in. Cheeses on boards, sides of meat hanging from hooks, bread of every size and description, fruits and sweets galore, but what impacted her the most were the spices. The scents drew her ever closer, and the colors! Brilliant reds, orange, yellows, greens, brown. Too many to describe and such heady smells. It made Siofra want to cook, and she had never cooked.
“Come along. We should avoid the food market and try the side streets where they offer specialized items.”
Once they turned aside, Siofra noted a particular goblin following, short, squat, with one tooth atop and one below. Then another joined him. And another. Their noses continuously rounded as they sniffed the air.
“Why are you smiling?” Lysander asked. “Don’t tell me you’ve fallen under enchantment.”
“Would I know if I had?” Her sassy tone brought a huff from him. “Never mind. You see those fellows following us? And the sniffing? I have something they want.”
His eyes met hers, and he smiled. “Mushrooms.”
“Even better. Diamonds of Perigord.”
“How did you manage to find such a rare truffle in England?”
“Mrs. Sgot is truly an amazing woman.”
“We must thank her when we return. She may have afforded us the leverage we need for the dragon weapon.”
After a hard glare at the goblins following them, and a show of touching his knife hilt, Lysander pulled Siofra along.
“You know,” she whispered, “you even frightened me when you frowned just now.”
Lysander shook his head, but the smile on his face brightened her heart.
They rounded a corner and found a placard that drew them closer. A red dragon on a white background.
They slipped inside. It only took a few seconds for their eyes to become adjusted to the darkened shop and to take in the vast array of dragon defenses contained therein. From long practice of watching Lysander, Siofra instantly noted the satisfied gleam in his eyes.
They passed through an aisle, reading the explanation of each item for sale. To lure dragons, dragon urine. It attracts both sexes. One sign said, For Fresh Meat, go to the Food Market. For Rotten Meat, go to the Undertaker.
Siofra grimaced. Attracting a dragon was not her aim, but the next sign attracted her interest. Specialty Item: Ice Spear- sure to penetrate. The clear blue ice spear was kept in a long glass case. How did you get close enough to the dragon without the spear melting? She chuckled to herself. How did you get it out of the store without it melting? Perhaps it was spelled.
The next aisle offered more suitable ideas: Poisoned Meat is found at the rear of the store. Dragon poisons- Proprietary Blend. Siofra saw two types, a dark liquid and a bottle of herbs. The next sign read: How to use poisoned arrow tips- Get a light arrow with a barbed point and heavy fletching. Aim for the wings to take the dragon down. The poison will eventually seep into the bloodstream.
That might not work quickly enough before one of them was eaten or burnt to a crisp.
Next, they found powerful crossbows set with weights then shields of varying strengths and prices, with good advice. Metal will stop fire, but not heat. Wood is a good insulator, but it can burn. Leather would burn more slowly than wood and protect against teeth. Try our unique ultra-shield. Combine all 3. Siofra tried to lift one of the shields, but it was rather hefty. Obviously not built for someone as puny as she. Lysander glanced back at her with the usual indulgent expression, a half-smile that made her want to shove him.
He stood before a large bin of swords varying in length and thickness. When he noted her curiosity, he said, “These would be like sliding a pin in a cushion. Utterly useless for penetrating vital organs. And that’s if you can penetrate the scales of the dragon.”
Siofra pointed at a sign behind him. Dragon Scales- Our most effective item for protection against fire, teeth, and claws.
There were shields made of interloping scales, arrow heads honed from scales, and swords and knives with a scale-enhanced tip. This, then, was the heavy artillery they needed.
She reached toward a shield, and Lysander’s quick reflexes captured her hand. “If you touch that in the wrong place, you’ll cut your fingers off.”
After ensuring that her satchel nestled safely under her arm, Siofra tucked her hands in her pockets. She’d like to keep her fingers.
The giant proprietor approached them, his owlish yellow eyes gleaming from a long, wide head. He barely fit in the aisle. He pointed at the arrows. “You’ll find none better. I fashioned them myself.”
Lysander’s face revealed no interest or inclination to buy. “We’ve no need of dragon-piercing arrows, but we would like a sharp knife that wouldn’t require constant sharpening. Do you have anything that insignificant?”
Siofra could have laughed at the disappointment on the face of the seller. Lysander would make a canny negotiator. He winked at her as he slid the satchel off her arm to take with him. “Look for a cloak of invisibility, preferably one that is heat-resistant as well,” he whispered.
Siofra meandered through the aisles, all the while listening as Lysander assured the seller his knives were not as glorious as he thought.
She stopped at a large dusty display of a horn, hanging on a wall. Dragan Sgaoileadh. Blood for fire, fire for blood. None can sound me and live. Whosoever blows this horn will die, but any dragons that hear it will obey the horn’s master.
No wonder no one had purchased it. That seemed rather counter-productive, which gave her a revelation of Lysander’s warning. They give you what you want the most, but the cost is what you most value.
Siofra jerked at the sudden figure looming over her, a large wiry female, wringing her hands in an apron, her long, thinning strands of green hair bobbing with her movements.
“That’s not for you,” she said, lifting her chin towards the horn.
“No doubt.” Siofra offered a polite smile and attempted to move past.
“But I do have what you’re looking for. Come this way.”
If nothing else, Siofra was curious to see what she was supposedly looking for. She followed, making certain she still heard Lysander’s voice negotiating with the proprietor.
The female stopped before a counter of shimmering bottles, each one a more alluring color than the last. Siofra wanted one, but the more she looked, the more beautiful they became. Which to choose?
“This one.” The goblin held up a bottle of pure shining light. “This is the memory of your mother.”
Siofra clutched her chest. “My mother?”
“With this memory, you’ll know exactly who she is and how to find her.”
Siofra’s gaze darted to the front of the room where Lysander was about to trade away her truffles. If Siofra purchased this memory, they wouldn’t need to fight the dragon. Then she thought of the king. He said she would fail Lysander because she would choose herself over him. He needed that ring for his betrothed. They’d still have to fight the dragon.
“How much?” she asked the goblin lady.
“Your memory of him.” She pointed to the front. “An even trade. One for one.”
Such a simple bargain. Siofra didn’t even need her memory of Lysander. Wasn’t he here? He could remind her of everything. And she would finally see the face of her mother, staring down at her as a babe! A face full of love.
Her hand reached for the glowing bottle.
“Siofra!”
Lysander’s voice brought her crashing down. What had she almost done? Her memories of Lysander were the most precious in her possession. Nothing was worth losing every moment with him.
He was right. She might have gained her heart’s desire, but she would have lost the person she held most dear.
She shook her head and lifted her gaze to the goblin. “That is a price I will never pay.”
Then she walked away, past Lysander, to the front of the store, then outside into brilliant sunlight.
When Lysander joined her, she couldn’t meet his eyes. Couldn’t tell him what she’d considered. “Can we leave the market now? Do we have what we need? I don’t like it here.”
“We’re going now. There’s a shortcut to the other side of town that leads through the residential area and away from the shops.”
He walked, and she followed. In utter misery, she studied the back of him. Regal bearing, confident, ever-watchful. How many times had he saved her now? She should write them all in her journal so she could never forget. Until then, she would recite them to herself.
They had just passed the curtain wall when Lysander paused to look at her. “What are you muttering? I hear my name back there.”
She tried to smile, but her lips quivered. If he didn’t stop looking at her, she would break down in tears.
When she didn’t reply, he hung her satchel on her arm then wrapped his arm around her and pulled her close. They had to walk more slowly, but she enjoyed the comfort of his touch, though she felt more like a traitor with every step.
Little by little, people and signs of the goblin town disappeared from view, until Siofra saw nothing but the winding path through hills and valleys.
“Time to rest,” Lysander said, leading her to a convenient log at the side of the road.
Once they were seated, he took her hand and brushed her hair back from her face. “How did you resist? You could have had exactly what you want.”
Her head jerked upward. “You heard? How could I trade everything we’ve gone through for a moment’s look at something so fleeting? I will know my mother when I see her. I’ll feel it.” She patted her chest then looked down at their clasped hands. “But I can’t lose what I feel about us…not for anything. Can you forgive me?”
“For what?”
“Considering her words.”
He squeezed her hand. “Her words were enchanted to entice. Anyone would have entertained them.” He chuckled. “I would have entertained them, and I know my mother.”
“Really? I guess I thought she was gone. You never mention her. Is she at court with your father?”
“She left long ago when she realized she couldn’t beat him. They are two of a kind.” He sighed. “I see her occasionally when she needs something from the king. She has affection for me, and she did her best to protect me from unsavory characters at court. But she would use me now…if I let her.”
“Are…are you sad about that?”
“Not really. It is the way of the Sidhe fey.”
Siofra shook her head. “I don’t want to be like that. I want to always appreciate what’s good, what God has done for me.”
His silvery grey eyes stared into hers. “I feel the same, that’s why I stay away from both courts and make my life as the Steward. It gives me purpose and relieves the boredom of long life. There’s always something new there.”
“There’s nothing new under the sun.”
“Perhaps not, but there are new people with which to experience life. That is gratifying.” He grinned at her. “Especially one young miss who can’t seem to stay out of trouble.”
He wasn’t angry with her. Siofra’s heart felt warm again. “Tell me of your purchase. How will we defeat the dragon?”
He opened the satchel and lifted an arrow. “Once I convinced the seller that we only wanted a knife, he was deadset on selling me an arrow with a dragon scale tip. I’m confident it will penetrate anything.”
“Do you really think we’ll have to fight? I’d rather not kill it.”
“I admire your soft heart, but it should be killed whether or not it had something we need. It preys on the weak without mercy. It kills without remorse. There is no goodness to be found in it. It would eat its own young should they challenge it to a territory it controlled.”
“How horrid. I don’t understand why your father lets it continue, why he let it take the ring.”
“Neither do I. Boredom springs to mind. He enjoys the challenge it presents, and he finds it useful to achieve his own ends. Are you thirsty?” He held up the water container.
Siofra took a long drink then scrounged in the bag for the last apple. “I think I’m addicted to these. Should I be afraid?”
“Not in the least. If you never saw another, you would live long and happy. But I can provide more.”
“Hello, what’s this?” She pulled out two smooth white stones the size of her hand.
“River rocks. Put them in your pockets. They may come in handy later.”
Though she couldn’t imagine how, she fitted the rocks in her pockets.
A cool breeze had blown in, and she closed her eyes and tipped her head back. Such a warm afternoon for questing. How much daylight did they have left? Her food stores were almost depleted, and there was nothing around for miles. If the dragon was nearby, he was well-hidden.
“How long before we reach the dragon?”
“Tomorrow. I want to get further away from the market, and then we’ll set up a camp.”
“Will we have to sleep in the middle of the path?”
“You will sleep on the path, just in case we get separated. I will be nearby.”
She didn’t like the sound of that. “How nearby?”
“On the other side of the fire.”
“I’d feel safer if we slept back-to-back.”
He eyed her solemnly. “I would never make such a suggestion. The ton would be appalled.”
Siofra laughed. “You looked very like one of the matrons when you said that. However, I’d rather err on the side of living beyond tonight. We sleep back-to-back, though I doubt I’ll sleep a wink.”
It turned out to be a false assumption on her part. Lysander offered her a cushy pile of blankets then set about making a fire, just off the path. By the time, he returned to her, Siofra could scarcely keep her eyes open.
“Good night,” he said and kissed the crown of her head.
She promptly passed into dreamland, his reassuring warm back against her.