Page 112 of Deadly Maiden

“I feel useless. Is there anything you would like me to do?”

She only shakes her head. “No. Just be with me a while. Please.”

I sigh and settle into the ground. “If this takes a day, a night, I will be here. I heal better like this anyway.”

“Oh. You did say that. That’s good.” She reaches to stroke my jawline, and a half-smile blooms.

A smile. It’s a start.

The town is replenishing supplies and getting water from the nearby river, which is lucky. Otherwise, it would be moving past us, following its circuit, and then I’d need to disturb Wyntre.

When Andacc returns, he has Thander with him as well as a man and woman with a stretcher. The golem master descends onto solid ground and his face contorts as he lifts his feet with caution. This must be a rare occurrence for him.

“The golem master comes,” I murmur, and Wyntre struggles to her feet, brushes her clothes for wrinkles or mess, or maybe blood, then hurries to him.

He embraces her in his stoneflesh arms, towering over her, with lines of sorrow etched on his face. “Landos…I am so sorry, my dear Wyntre.” With her at his elbow, he heads over to study Landos, swathed in his blood-stained canvas shroud. The sword that struck him has been extracted and lies a few yards away. He paces to it, shifts it with a toe. “Enforcer, standard make.”

I grunt agreement. Wyntre wraps her arms about herself.

“What do you wish done, young Wyntre? Your father merits the funeral pyre of a golem-town citizen, but I will defer to your wishes. If you agree, I will inter his ashes in our wall of remembrance. Is it too soon to ask such a question of you?”

Andacc speaks. “A gentle reminder that the Aos Sin will be trying to find us, and a dragon is impossible to hide here.”

“Ahh. Of course. They will not dare disturb a funeral rite in my town, but you?” Thander encompasses us all in the arc of his gaze. “All of you seem likely to be arrested and terminated if you stay here too long. Andacc has summed up the events today. You’ve dealt the kingdom a blow that will not be forgiven.”

“I understand.” Wyntre raises her head, and a fierce brightness burns higher in her eyes. My heart warms as I recognize this—the soulmate sign. She straightens her arms, clenches her hands into fists. “And you cannot have us in the town for more than a few hours? You will not get involved in this war?”

“No. I will not.” Thander’s face softens as he goes to his knees before Landos. “What do you wish done, Wyntre?”

“What would Landos have wanted?” Her voice is quieter. She wipes away the last of her tears with her sleeve. “I truly don’t know. He lived here happily for twenty years, and I know of nowhere else to bury him. That seems sad, but when I think on it, he always loved walking on the land, too, exploring the towns and places we passed through.” She considers Thander, nods to him. “I will say my goodbyes to him here, and I will come back to see where his ashes are kept in the wall. Can you add earth from some of the lands we pass through and let his ashes mix with those?”

He bows his head. “It will be done. I will pass word to one of Andacc’s people of the date of the funeral. It will be in a few days, at most.”

When he rises and retreats to talk with Andacc, Wyntre kneels in his place.

I think she simply says a goodbye to her father, and I do not intrude or try to overhear. The passing on of a dearly loved friend or relative always leaves one with an emptiness wherethey filled a part of our souls, our lives. Though the emptiness never vanishes, it does lessen.

I will say some of this to her.

Now I have the words I was searching for.

I did not know him well, and so I cannot grieve deeply, but I will be here for Wyntre.

When she returns to me, her step is firm, her head a little low, but with no signs of the overwhelming sorrow.

“I have said goodbye to Father.” She draws a shaky breath then goes to stand before my wounded eye and peers at me there. “Landos would understand that we need to leave. Can you still fly with your wound, Rorsyd? You never asked Thander for any physician to check this. Shall I? It looks deep.”

“As I said before, it will heal by itself, but ten times as fast if I remain dragon, compared to if I change to man form. I can fly but are you ready? Truly ready to depart?” I recall my words. “The death of your father will leave you with an emptiness where he filled a part of your life and your heart.” She regards me, her mouth quivering. Have I made it worse? I hurry onward with the words. “Though the emptiness will never vanish it does lessen with time.”

“Thank you, Rorsyd.” She goes onto tiptoes to kiss beneath my ear. “I will be okay, especially since I have you by my side.”

“Where do you wish to fly to?” I steel myself for her saying she wants to go to war. I am not ready for that. I never will be. Not with her life at risk.

“To Slaedorth, and with Kyvin also. I want to see this place my parents thought might be a poor destination. How did they say it?” A frown creases a line above her pretty nose as she recites her parents’ instructions. “It would be best if you do not go there. See the above regarding enemies and wars. Slaedorth is for those. It is no place for a holiday.”

“Ummm.” It comes out a weighty drone thatummm—a hazard of dragonform.

“You disapprove?”

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