Page 103 of His Greatest Treasure

Mrs. Wilson approached me. She gave a quick bow of her head and then spoke.

“Two of the sprites are good healers for cuts and bruises. Perhaps you’d give them permission to heal those in need of it, Lord Somerville.”

“Oh, yes! Where are they?” I looked around, pleased that my uncle would get at least some healing before his son got back, but then I paused. I cocked my head to one side. “Why have they never helped with healing before?”

“They heal the sprites, when they get injuries from the farming equipment and so on.”

“But they don’t heal the dragons?”

Mrs. Wilson gave a sniff. “They were never allowed to. Your father didn’t believe that dragons needed help healing from any but a dragon.”

That sounded silly to me.

“Where are they? I’d like them to heal Uncle George, please, and anyone else who needs it. Mother, how is your leg?”

She gave me a brave smile. “It was a deep cut but it is healing. You need to be looked at, Alfie.”

“I’ll go last. After you.”

I folded my arms, showing her that I was not going to budge on that.

To my surprise, she nodded and turned to Mrs. Wilson.

“Will they meet us in the medical room?”

Mrs. Wilson blinked in surprise and then nodded quickly.

As my mother and Aunt Silvia and Uncle George left, I looked again at Mrs. Wilson. She had a slim bond with my mother. It felt more like the quiet respect of colleagues than the loving bond of a clan, but I hadn’t realised they had even that much. I was seeing more bonds now than before, and wondered if that was because my dragon eyesight was better. Or my magical eyesight. I’d have to ask Great Aunt Evangeline.

And, now I looked, I saw the bonds between the sprites that were gathered, and at least a dozen more spread out in every direction.

“Where are the rest of the sprites?”

“They are circling the borders to make sure there are no other breaches, Lord Somerville.”

I cleared my throat. “How did you know I was Lord Somerville now?”

Mrs. Wilson blinked at me in surprise. “I’ve been working for the Somervilles all my life, Lord Somerville. I know who rules the clan.”

“That’s good,” I said. “At least I don’t need to go round telling everyone that my father is dead. I don’t really want to talk about that. Do you think everyone knows?”

“All the sprites know.”

“Do you think I could meet them all? I know that people work in the fields but I’ve never been allowed to meet them before. I wasn’t allowed past the woods.”

I might have been imagining it, but Mrs. Wilson shot me a look of pity. “Of course, Lord Somerville. The sprites would be honoured to meet you.”

“Really? Are you sure? I can’t think why anyone would be honoured to meetme. Oh, I suppose I’ma golden dragon. Is that why they want to see me? Will I have to shift in front of them?”

Mrs. Wilson chuckled and she shared a look with Blaze. I saw a bond flicker into existence between them, thin and new, but there.

Turning to me, she said, “They would be honoured to meet Lord Somerville. It’s been decades since they’ve seen the ruler of our clan.”

“Our clan? You mean you’re part of my clan too?”

That might have been the wrong thing to say. Mrs. Wilson drew herself up proudly and tried to look down her nose at me. She was very short and plump, though, so she couldn’t do it. That didn’t mean I wasn’t just a tiny bit intimidated.

“We were under the impression that we were. In our own way.”

---