Page 55 of To Touch A Silent Fury
What? Why would the Euphons set their own forest on fire? “Why?”
Yvon made a gesture, then. One I recognised, for I had asked of it when I first met her, years ago. One I had waited a span to see again. The sign for 'dragon'. “Vellintris. She left dragonsign last night in the woods, a broken hollow.”
I could not help the excitement that burned in my heart. But I kept my tone as soft as a quail's shell. “She is landing, then? She will hatch her egg?”
Yvon studied me. “If she can. The cacofs were all over the hollow like trampling children. They hope to capture both mother and babe, we measure.”
I scowled. “The Dragon Prince’s men? Was he with them?”
She signed something which I had come to gauge meant 'usually'.
I had not seen Langnathin since that day in the arena, but the look on his face as he met my gaze, with my prospective suitors melted around him, had never left my mind. I saw his blood-red eyes every time I went to sleep. “Why the fire, then?”
“When she nests, she will burn up and create fire. We light our own fires to hide her presence. There will be so many fires, the prince will not know where Vellintris really hides.”
I shook my head. “You would destroy your own forest?”
Yvon made an expression so incredulous it made me feel like a child again. “To keep a wild dragon from the cacofs? We would burn more than that, I measure.”
In the city of Sellador, the Silver City in the west of the Soundlands, it was said there lay a twinkling orchestra of bells, so small and so soft, they broke your heart just to hear them. But the Euphons, including most of the tribes of Gossamir, were more extreme, venerating only noises that could not be manmade. They worshipped nature and the natural world. Its rivers, lakes, plants, and fauna were the only music most of them needed.
But above all of that, above nature’s order itself, they worshipped Amune. An ancient mythical silver dragon. They believed he birthed all of our dragons and pulled the moon across the sky.
To them, a dragon was not just another aspect of nature, some fauna to be respected. To them, a dragon was a divine being.
Yvon swept her hand. “You must keep away. Stay here.”
I took another bite of jerky. “I have seen dragonfire before. I do not fear it.”
She made a noise close to a scoff, and it made me jump. “Vellintris is no Skirmtold.”
I narrowedmy eyes. “How did you—”
Yvon signalled my silence and spoke so quickly I barely followed along. “I don’t tell you to keep away because of the fire. But for those who will haunt those fires. The Dragon Prince seeks Vellintris. My people will leave traps. It is not safe for you.”
At her motion for traps, I nodded. I wanted to say,I know your traps. I can avoid them,but I knew better. If Yvon thought I would disobey her in this, she might not visit again. I relied on her too much for that.
“We can keep your hair dark, but your eyes are still as bright. If my people catch you, you would not be free,” Yvon said, splaying her fingers around in a quick wave to indicate the word 'free'. “Ifhefinds you, I don’t wish to guess. A pretty Broken girl, alone in the woods, is a novelty to too many.”
I ducked my head. She had no idea just how fascinating Langnathin would find me, if he recognised me. “I thank you for your warning.”
I knew then I could not accept her request for service.
She had asked the one thing I could not do. She had asked me to remain out of the events that had brought me here, just as they had brought the barracks. This was what I had waited for, this was why I had suffered in the silence of the forest, barely living.
Vellintris was coming.
I would find another way to repay her.
But why had she said it? How did she know?Vellintris is no Skirmtold.A strange sense of knowing clanged over me, and I couldn’t tell if it was relief or foreboding.
I stared at the woman who had kept me alive for years. “Yvon. Why did you help me?”
She only made a dismissive gesture. I had asked her this before, and she never answered it.
I gritted my jaw. “Nearly five years ago, I entered this forest and thought I’d freeze in less than a week. You found me. Yousaw my white hair, my eyes. You knew what I was, where I was from. It was only knowing I was Broken that stayed your hand. I was a noisy cacof from the Brotherhood. Why did you help me?”
Yvon rolled her eyes, her attention on the dwindling candle. It was a gesture not native to her culture, and I reckoned she’d learnt it from me. “You have asked me this before, I measure.”
