Chapter 9

Ilay stiff and still in the dragon's claws, trying not to do anything that would cause it to drop me. Though, perhaps falling to my death would be better than being eaten.

Fortunately or otherwise, I was likely going to freeze to death before either option became a real concern. The dragon had tucked me close, shielding me from the worst of the rain, but I couldn't feel most of my body, and thoughts flitted through my head without ever sticking. I should've been terrified, but even that emotion felt too far away, ephemeral and fleeting.

I don't know how long we traveled before I was set on the hard, snowy ground with more care than I expected. I was still trying to pry my eyes open when someone with strong arms—strong human arms—scooped me up.

The light behind my eyelids brightened, and the air no longer stung my lungs. We were inside. I cracked my eyes open, but all I could see was the wet, dark tunic of whoever was carrying me.

"Don't let the dragon eat me," I whispered.

A brief grunt vibrated against my cheek, and a deep voice murmured, "You would hardly be a satisfying meal."

I snorted softly. At least I had that going for me.

I finally roused myself enough to protest when I was laid on a soft mattress. "My clothes are wet."

"I'll dry them in a second."

The familiarity of the voice was enough to get me to crack my eyes open again. Baldric was leaning over me, a frown on his face. I reached for him, but my arm wasn't entirely under my control and it fell back before I made contact.

"Are you a dragon?" I whispered.

He met my eyes. "Yes."

That was not the answer I'd expected. "Promise you won't eat me."

"People are not as delicious as you seem to think you are." When I just stared at him, he sighed. "I promise I won't eat you."

"Thanks," I breathed, letting my eyes slide closed. Then I roused myself again and added, "Even after I'm dead."

"You're not going to die." As if to prove his point, warmth flooded through me, chasing away the chill.

"How are you doing that?"

"Magic."

"Magic isn't real," I mumbled reflexively.

The corner of his mouth curled. "Neither are dragons. Or witches."

"That's true." My eyes slid closed as the warmth spread. "Is that why you weren't worried about me cutting you?"

"Yes."

There was something off about his tone. "Are you mad at me?"

"Furious," he agreed, his voice a low rumble.

I pried my eyes open long enough to scowl at him. "I was trying to get back to you so we could sit in front of the fire, and I could distract you with my new dress."

"If I hadn't found you, you would've died." Now that I was listening for it, I could hear the quiet fury laced through the words.

"But you did find me."

"I was nearly too late. What were you thinking?"

I hissed as his magic washed away the numbness in my fingers. The pain was sharp but thankfully brief as he continued to heal me.

"I was thinking that if I didn't return, you'd worry and do something dangerous like going out in a storm. And I was right."

"You will not risk yourself for me again," he demanded.

"Bossy," I grumbled around a yawn. The last of the cold was fading and weariness was creeping in.

"If that's what it takes to keep you safe, then yes."

"That's okay," I murmured as sleep pulled me under, "I like you even when you're bossy."

He tucked the blankets around my now warm and dry form, then whispered softly, "I like you, too. Far too much."

He stood to leave and as much as I wanted to chase him down and demand answers, my body had other ideas.

I was asleep before his footsteps faded.

* * *

I awoketo a roaring fire and an empty room. My clothes were stiff, and I still had my boots on—in bed!!—but otherwise, I felt fine. I got up carefully so the rapier strapped to my waist wouldn't poke me or the mattress.

Baldric had left his nice oilskin cloak, probably because it'd been wrapped around me. I magically pulled the dirt and grime from it and set it aside to return. The effort left me woozier than I would've preferred, so I decided on a warm bath for myself. I'd deal with my clothes later.

After I was clean and dressed, I went to find Baldric—and breakfast. My first stop was the kitchen. Baldric was slicing onions into a heavy pot, and based on the stinging in my eyes, he'd been doing it for a while.

He tipped his head toward the table without pausing. "There's a plate for you."

His tone was hard to read, and his expression gave nothing away. I narrowed my eyes at him. "Did I imagine that you were a dragon?"

The knife stilled for a fraction of a second before resuming. "You did not imagine it."

I wiggled my fingers, all perfectly healthy and still attached to my hands. "And you healed me."

"I did."

"Thank you." I considered the tense set of his shoulders and the furrow between his eyebrows. "Are you still mad at me?"

His glittering gaze pinned me in place. "I'm still furious that you nearly died, yes."

"You should come with me next time. You know, to keep me out of trouble. And then I won't worry you if I have to stay overnight."

The knife slammed into the cutting board with rattling force. "You would invite a dragon home with you?"

"I would invite you home with me. Is that a problem?"

His glare was hot enough to burn. "I'm dangerous. And your employer."

I could fix one of those easily enough. "Fine, I quit." I held up a hand to ward off the argument I could see brewing in his expression. "I promised to stay for two weeks, I didn't promise to clean for those two weeks. So unless you object, I'll spend the next week as your guest, not your employee."

The manor was already clean. It would take the barest hint of magic to keep it that way, and what Baldric didn't know wouldn't hurt him.

He stared at me for a long moment. I held my breath. It was possible I was reading the whole situation wrong, and he'd refuse to let me stay as a guest. Finally, he set the knife aside. "I will get the wages you are owed. Now eat."

I barely contained the sigh of relief. "I will, thank you."

The covered plate held an assortment of delicate pastries that would've taken him all night to make. Had he stayed up, or had he somehow gotten to the village and back this morning?

Sweet, flaky dough surrounded a dark jam filling. The first bite revealed the jam was blackberry, and it was just tart enough to balance the dough's sweetness. If he'd made these, then he could make a fortune by opening a bakery.

I was working my way through my second pastry when Baldric returned. He set twenty-four silver on the table. "Your wages." Then he placed a gold crest next to the silver. "And a bonus for a job well done. Your employment is now finished. You may stay as my guest, if you would like, or you may return to the village. If you wish to return, I will take you to the edge of town."

He'd paid me for both weeks. I should give him the extra dozen silver back, but I needed it more than he did. I swiped the silver into my hand, then pushed the gold crest back toward him. "I would like to buy back my rocks."

Something ancient and feral flashed across his face before he shook his head. "That's impossible."

Unexpected pain lanced through my chest. "Why? Did you already get rid of them? Were they not good enough for your collection?"

"They already are part of my collection," Baldric said. "That's the problem. It would be very difficult for me to give them to you, but I can loan them to you."

"Then I will loan you this gold crest as collateral."

Baldric shook his head. "It wouldn't be even. If part of my collection is ever taken out of the manor, I could find it anywhere in the world, but if you give me this gold, you wouldn't be able to find it again if I hid it. Keep it. It's yours."

"You can find the rocks anywhere? Even if I travelled across the continent?" When he nodded, I asked, "How?"

"Magic."

"So you'll always be able to find me?"

His expression was unreadable. "As long as you remain with part of my collection, yes. Does that bother you?"

I smiled softly. "No, it doesn't bother me at all."