Chosen: Book 1 in the Dragon Queen series
23 – Reluctant Help

The house was dark and silent. I knew it was empty, but I still trod on tip-toe as though afraid I might come face to face with the owner. I hoped Ma Fowler wouldn’t pick now to pop back and water the plants. Climbing the stairs, I winced when they creaked, chiding myself for being so jumpy. No one could hear me from outside. The hunter could have no idea I’d hidden here. Nor would Pa or Ma Fowler guess. I crossed the rear upstairs room to peer out of the window into the back alleyway. All was peaceful.

The floorboards creaked in the front room but there was no one but me to hear. When I reached the window, matters changed. Three people stood in a huddle in the middle of the street. I could tell by their gesticulations that they were trying to figure out where to look next. Pa pointed, and the hunter set off. I swallowed. I’d bet he was heading to Brunna’s house, and I was doubly glad I hadn’t run there.

I winced, craning to see when the hunter banged on Ma Henderby’s door, the noise loud in the darkness. Her terrier barked the alarm, but no human answered. He continued knocking, beating the door so hard I’m surprised he didn’t shake it off its hinges. I suspected the family was at the town square, waiting for the troupe’s performance and saying goodbye to Brunna. While the hunter continued his work, Pa and Ma Fowler conferred outside the shop. They cast accusing looks down the street, peering both ways as though I might step into view. When they – perhaps – realised that wasn’t going to happen, they retreated back inside.

I sank to my knees, glad I only had the hunter to keep an eye on now. Pa didn’t know me as well as he thought. Or perhaps he did. It was only the direst of circumstances that would cause me to take refuge in Ma Fowler’s house, after all.

When the hunter gave up trying to raise someone at Brunna’s house, he jogged farther down the street. He was gone a good fifteen minutes before he made his way back. I suspected he’d checked all the streets on the way. I shuddered and fought a yawn, wondering how long it would take for him to give up. I was safe where I was, but I couldn’t stay here forever.

I got to my feet, trying to hold on to wakefulness. The night was deepening and I wanted to rest. Despite knowing who had occupied it last, Ma Fowler’s bed was tempting. I forced myself to stand by the window instead of sitting on the bed’s comfortable edge. Sitting would lead to lying, and then to sleeping, and then it would be the morning and I’d be trapped here. I needed the three of them to call off the search for the night.

Finally, the hunter stopped wandering and returned to Magpie’s, banging at the door to rouse Pa. I half thought he might have settled to bed, responsibility discharged now he’d sold me to the mages via the hunter. But no, he opened the door to confer with the hunter on the front step. From the gestures it was clear neither of them was happy with how the night had ended.

Which was good for me.

After some particularly irate fist-waving and insults, the hunter strode off towards the town centre and Pa shut the door with a slam even I could hear. I hoped the neighbours would give him hell tomorrow for the racket.

The lights snapped off in Magpie’s. My chest tightened. Pa was going to bed. He didn’t know where I was, and if he cared it was only because he wouldn’t get his payment until the mages got hold of me. You’re nothing to do with me...

I told myself to be glad he wasn’t out roaming the streets looking for me, because now I had the opportunity to escape. The hunter was most likely heading back to the town square in the hope I’d seek out the help of my friend, Brunna. Which meant so long as I avoided that direction I’d be safe.

I swallowed down my anxiety at the thought of what lay ahead if I left Besserton. I had no particular destination in mind, but I knew one thing for sure: I was never coming back. I couldn’t return home for my belongings, so I’d have to rely on Ma Fowler to help me.

My lips curved in a bitter smile. She would be appalled to know she was helping me out, but I intended to be long gone before she discovered my thieving. I felt no guilt whatsoever. If she’d wanted us to be friends she shouldn’t have turned my father against me. My heart lurched as I looked through a cupboard and dragged out a knapsack to hold everything I needed. He’d been easy to turn against me – because he wasn’t really my father. My heart still boomed with alarm and disbelief when I thought that. How had he hidden the truth for so long? And if he wasn’t my father, then who was? A man from Nordin. I wondered whether my mother had fled like this, desperate for safety, or if she’d come to Muirland for a good reason. Was she sorry or happy to leave her home? My heart ached. I had no one to ask for answers.

Focusing on the practicalities of escape, I found a tin of dried meat and half a wheel of cheese in the kitchen, wrapped them up and put them at the bottom of the bag. A warm blanket followed. I needed money, or something I could exchange for money.

I put a hand to my throat. I’d find a scarf before I left to ensure my collar didn’t gape to reveal the scars the necklace had left me with. Trading would be easier if I didn’t look like I’d recently escaped a noose.

I walked into the main room and hit the jackpot. The shelf over the mantel was crowded with what Pa had always scathingly referred to as old lady knick-knacks. Small and easy to break, they served no purpose that I could see but to need cleaning: pottery depictions of pink-cheeked milkmaids and loyal dogs. I tucked Ma Fowler’s collection in the folds of the blanket in my bag. I’d get a few pennies for them along my way.

Our neighbour also turned out to be a staunch royalist. Pa and I didn’t care much for the king this far from the capital, but Ma Fowler’s walls displayed a pair of plates painted to commemorate the births of Prince Jaran and then Princess Jurelle. I might be able to sell them, too.

The bag was nearly full, while my shoulders prickled with anxiety. I didn’t know how long the hunter might wait with Brunna to see if I would arrive. And I had no idea what he’d do when I failed to show. One girl who was reported to be able to tell the mages where a dragon might be found... I didn’t know how much effort they’d put into tracking me down. If they knew Pa’s ability to spin his tale according to his audience, I hoped they’d set little store by his promise that I could guide the mages to the dragon they craved.

I raided the kitchen once more, stealing the heel of bread and two apples that were all the fresh food Ma Fowler had. Then I snagged the woollen cloak hanging on the hook behind the back door and slipped out. I toyed with the idea of leaving the door open in the hope thieves might chance upon it. They would hide my own depredations. But in the end I turned the key and tucked it back in its hiding place, leaving no external sign of my visit.

Gripping the top of the gate I peeped over, checking the alley both ways before I unlatched it and slipped out.

I snuck along the back ways, striding down the moon-silvered streets with a confident step so I wouldn’t look like I was fleeing. The streets widened and the houses spaced out as the forest came into sight at the edge of town. My breath slowed. This was really happening. Goodbye to the place that had been my home ... and hello to the maker only knew what.

I straightened my shoulders and bit into one of the apples. Whatever lay ahead would be an adventure. I’d survived hunters, escaped evil mages, and even been – briefly – chosen for the dragon queen’s companion; I could overcome all obstacles.

I had to.

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