Keeper of the Flame: Dragon Knights, Book 7 Read online

  The coat was more like a cape that tied at various points, allowing water to sluice downward. It wasn’t the easiest thing to get in and out of, but it had the advantage of excess fabric that helped ward off the rain. This kind of coat was common enough as to be unremarkable and he could carry much beneath it should he want to smuggle anything on his person.

  He lifted the excess fabric and the kitten scrambled under it faster than he would have believed. She was shivering and miserable, her small body skinnier than he’d expected.

  “Hoo warm,” she observed as she settled next to him. She’d tucked her body around him, her wings under his arm, her front paws resting alongside his leg, her head turned to look up at him.

  Wrapping the folds of his coat over her back and legs, only her head stayed uncovered as she watched him. Hugh let out a tiny tendril of his magic to warm her rapidly, gratified when her little body ceased shivering and her eyes closed momentarily in delight. He felt the way her magic touched his and accepted the energy he fed to her in a gentle trickle so as not to overwhelm her senses.

  “Are you hungry?”

  Her eyes popped open. “Yess!” Her verbal pounce reinforced the idea and Hugh had to struggle not to laugh. She really was the cutest little thing, bedraggled as she was.

  “I have a meat pie in my pocket. You can have it.”

  He pulled the waxed paper out of his inside pocket and unwrapped the treat within, holding it for her. Surprisingly dexterous paws took the pastry-wrapped meat from him and brought it to her mouth. It was gone in three bites and she looked to him for more even as she licked her paws clean. He noticed she favored one, but she was quick to hide it and he didn’t get a good look.

  “More?” she asked, distracting him from his train of thought.

  “Not with me. But I can get more. I have a room nearby where we can both get out of the rain. Would you like that?”

  “Hoo take me wif?” She seemed so hopeful. There was no guile in this brave youngster.

  “Yes, little one. I cannot leave you out here in the cold. Will you come with me?”

  “Yess. Go wif.” She leapt to her feet under his coat and looked at him eagerly. No doubt she was hungrier than her dainty manners had led him to believe.

  “All right.” Hugh stood and kept his arm raised so that at least some of the freezing rain was bin.g rain locked over her little body. “Come with me and we’ll both get dry, warm and fed.”

  She trotted at his side energetically at first, but soon began to slow her pace. Hugh finally stopped and bent down to her, meeting her eyes so he could gauge her reaction.

  “Is it all right if I pick you up and carry you? You can stay warm under my coat that way and we can get there faster.”

  Her answer was to raise her front paws to rest on his thigh. It was clear she wanted up.

  Hugh took a moment to untie the flaps on his coat completely, then make an opening in front where she could look out if she liked. She was an intelligent creature who needed to trust him. Keeping her in the dark—literally—would do nothing to further that trust.

  Once there was room under the hanging flaps of the coat, Hugh reached down and lifted her easily into his arms. The rain had turned to sleet and snow. No one saw him lift the large winged cat into his arms and walk on as if she weighed nothing at all.

  Hugh had the strength of a dragon even when he was in human form. The little gryphlet was no burden at all for him as he held her shivering body close to his chest. She’d gotten cold again during their short walk no matter how much he’d tried to shield her from the rain.

  Hugh was thoroughly wet now. Wet, muddy and a total mess, but he was warm. The kitten seemed to soak up his warmth and her shivering stopped again in short order.

  They walked through the alleys, heading away from the cliffs, toward the safer working-class part of the city where he’d taken a room. Opting not to be murdered in his bed, Hugh had chosen one of the better inns to sleep in. He’d rented a room for the next week and paid half in advance to keep the innkeeper friendly.

  Arriving at the door with a giant kitten under his coat, her head peeking out from between the folds near his chest, Hugh realized there was no way to hide her. The noise level from within the inn was higher than normal, probably because so many had chosen to seek shelter from the storm in the taproom.

  There was a back entrance and Hugh made for it, but it was also the area where the innkeeper kept his spare barrels, and he was out there on the covered porch, wrestling with an empty when Hugh approached. He could have waited until the innkeeper went back inside, but Hugh needed to feed the kitten and for that, he’d need an ally in the kitchen. Who better than the owner of the establishment? If Hugh couldn’t talk the man around, they could always find another inn.

  But the man had seemed kind. Hugh had observed him taking less than the standard amount for lunch from a nearly blind old woman the day before and giving extra portions to her as well. The man seemed to have a big heart and Hugh was counting on that inner kindness to help him help the gryphlet as well.

  “Sir.” Hugh spoke in a quiet, unhurried voice, hoping to put the man at ease. “May I have a word with you?”

  The innkeeper looked out into the sleet and spotted Hugh standing by the steps to the covered porch. Hugh had dared not go closer until he’d warned the innkeeper of his presence. It wouldn’t do to startle the man.

  “Certainly. What is it you have there?” The man squinted, looking through the gray precipitation, staring hard at the gryphlet’s head poking out from the coat.

  “That is what I wanted to talk to you about.” Hugh stepped closer, moving under the end of the covered porch and shrugging his coat open wider so the innkeeper could see more of the baby gryphon d Haby gryin his arms. “I found her in the street. She is very young and in need of food and warmth. I will understand if you wish me to go elsewhere.” He kept his tone calm and quiet. To his relief, the man stepped closer.

  “Fell out of your nest, eh, little one?” The innkeeper addressed the gryphlet directly, his gaze rising from her eyes to Hugh’s with grim understanding. “Aye, you can both bide here. It was good of you to bring her. I have seen this before.”

  “Often?” Hugh couldn’t help but ask as he stepped forward, farther under the covered porch, heading toward the door. The innkeeper opened the door so he could pass through and their eyes met.

  “No.” The innkeeper shook his head, a grim cast to his features. “Not often. Thank the Lady.”

  Hugh wasn’t sure whether the man thanked a female deity or perhaps the Lady Doge who ruled this land. It didn’t much matter. What mattered now was getting this poor, bedraggled kitten warm and dry. And fed. The little cub had to be starving—Hugh could feel the bones of her ribs sticking out beneath her skin.

  The innkeeper led the way down the dim hall toward the bedchamber Hugh had been given. It was worth noting that the older man apparently didn’t want the gryphlet in the busy common room, even though the fire was roaring in there, where many people had gathered on this gloomy, sub-zero day.

  “I’ll send the boy up with coals for the fire and food for the youngling,” the innkeeper said as he bustled ahead of Hugh and his burden. “Blankets and nesting material too, though you’ll have to promise to keep her safely back from the fire. This lass is too young to know the danger.”

  “No fire,” Miss piped up, holding up one paw that Hugh now saw was singed. “Hoo warm.”

  Hugh shared a grim expression with the landlord who had opened his door with the master key. “Perhaps some salve for her paw? If you have any.”

  “I’ll see what the missus has from the stillroom.” He blocked Hugh’s path when he would have entered, holding his gaze with a hard look. “You seem to know your way around gryphons.” It was more question than statement.

  “Not gryphons, exactly.” Hugh shrugged. “In my travels I have become familiar with many different creatures. They seem to like me as much as I like them.”

>   “They are often better judges of character than most men, I reckon.” The innkeeper nodded once and moved aside. “All right then. If you would see to her for the night, we’ll see what must be done in the morning. If anything.”

  “I would be most obliged if you could send dinner to my room. I will pay…” Hugh tried to look reluctant, knowing the rough traveler he posed as would balk at spending extra coin—or at least make a show of objecting.

  “No need. The boy will be along soon with food and supplies for the nestling. Just tell him if there’s anything else.”

  “Thank you,” Hugh said politely as the innkeeper closed the door, leaving him inside with his precious burden.

  The room wasn’t warm yet. No fire had been lit in the grate. The innkeeper’s son would bring a coal to get the blaze going. Hugh didn’t need that, of course, but it would raise suspicion if he lit his own fire, and he’d have to expose his ability to the gryphlet. She was just a baby, really, and couldn’t know how important it was for him to keep his dragon half secretf t half s from the people of this land.

  Hugh still didn’t know if Helios was friend or deadly foe to dragon folk. Until he figured that out, he would have to keep a low profile. Taking in a rejected gryphon nestling wasn’t exactly the way he had planned to do that, but his honor wouldn’t let him do anything else.

  Half dragon, Hugh was a strong believer in fate. Some things were just meant to be. Perhaps finding this baby gryphon in need was part of the grand plan fate had in store for him. Or perhaps not. Hugh would likely never know either way.

  Hugh settled on the lone chair in the small room, preferring not to transfer the wet mud from his clothes to the room’s single bed. Miss stayed happily in his arms, cuddling close to his chest for warmth. She jumped a little when the innkeeper’s son knocked once before entering at Hugh’s word.

  He held a small wooden bucket and a metal scoop that held a hot coal with which to light the wood and tinder already in the grate. Miss watched the young human with wary interest. She jumped when the fire caught in the fireplace, but Hugh soothed her, holding her close in his arms and stroking her drying fur.

  “I’ll be back in a tic with towels and hot water so’s you can clean up, sir,” the boy said as he headed for the door. “Da said heat first, then cleaning stuff, then food.” He ticked off his tasks on his fingers as he headed out the door. “Ma’s burn ointment is in the bucket, sir.”

  Hugh thanked the boy as he left and spent a few minutes coaxing Miss off his lap. She was truly afraid of the fire, which was a healthy instinct when not taken to an extreme. Hugh hooked the handle of the bucket with his foot and dragged it over, having been not entirely successful in dislodging the kitten. He found a small earthenware pot with a square of gingham fabric tied over the top, which proved to be a fragrant burnjelly salve he’d seen before. Humans who lived among dragons often had need of such things, unfortunately, so it was a staple of many Lair homes.

  “Can I see your paw?” he asked the gryphlet politely. “This salve will make it feel better and in a few days it will be good as new if we keep it clean and apply more salve morning and night. I promise.”

  She looked at him suspiciously, keeping her paw hidden. Perhaps she wasn’t ready to open herself up for more possible pain at the moment. He still had work to do in gaining her trust.

  “How did your paw get singed, little one? Did you stray too close to a fire?”

  “Wuz warm,” she said finally. “Wanted warm, but hurt.”

  “Fire can hurt, but it is also a good thing. See that fire in the grate?” Hugh pointed to the source of heat. Miss’s gaze followed reluctantly. “It can keep you warm. It can help dry your wet fur. It is also a source of light so we can see each other clearly. Although I suppose you have excellent night vision, don’t you?” His question was rhetorical since the youngster probably didn’t even realize she could see better at night than most humans. “People also use fire to heat their food. Cooking certain foods makes it safe for them to eat, though I think you probably prefer your meat raw, don’t you?”

  “Hungry,” she mewled and Hugh’s heart broke again for the bedraggled little waif.

  “We’ll take care of that soon. The innkeeper is sending food for us both. We just have to be patient a little longer. In the meantime, we should get clean and dry.” He shrugged off his coat and let it drape back, over the e ck, overchair. He was wet through and through, but a controlled blast of his own internal heat dried his clothing from the inside out.

  He stroked warm hands over Miss’s fur, drying it and sweeping bits of twigs, mud and other debris from her coat. Where most of the gryphons he’d seen were brown, gold or even red in color, Miss had a gray and white striped pattern to her coat. Her baby fur dried fluffy and full, giving her a fuzzy look that was utterly adorable.

  She purred a bit as she warmed up and began to dry out. Her wings were still wet and Hugh encouraged her to spread them out so he could see to them as well. She’d dragged the tips on the ground behind her and some of the shafts were caked with mud. It would crack off cleanly when dry, he hoped.

  She unfolded one wing at a time as he worked, relaxing more and more as Hugh and the fire warmed the room. She was dozing lightly when the boy returned. He placed a loaded tray on the room’s single table and began unpacking the heap of stuff on top.

  “Towels and spare blankets,” he said as he put the neatly folded stack near Hugh, who put them to good use almost immediately. “A bowl of tidbits for the little miss.” The boy seemed in awe of the gryphon, not sure how to approach. Hugh held out one hand for the bowl and the boy gave it to him.

  Hugh carefully checked the meat scraps inside the bowl, selecting one to give Miss. It wouldn’t do for her to gorge herself and become ill. He would watch over her eating until she was sated and more secure. She perked up when she scented the meat and lifted her head. He held half a chicken breast—top quality meat, he was pleased to note—in his hand, allowing her to take it from him with her paws. He watched her injured paw with particular interest, plotting how to treat it once she was done eating.

  “If you want to help her, you can give her the rest of the chicken, one piece at a time. It’s best she doesn’t eat too much too fast just now after not having eaten for a while.” Hugh gave the bowl back to the boy. He seemed enchanted by the gryphlet and thrilled at the prospect of helping her.

  With a tentative expression, the boy held out the next piece of chicken. He smiled with joy when Miss snatched the meat out of his hands and began chewing it daintily. While she ate, Hugh used the towel to work on her fur a bit more. She was almost completely dry, except for her large wings, and much cleaner than she had been just an hour ago.

  The boy watched, enthralled, when Hugh spread one of her wings to its full length with Miss’s absent-minded cooperation. She was busy eating and didn’t seem to be paying attention to what he was doing.

  “She is going to grow up on the big side, eh?” the boy asked, seeing the largeness of her wing.

  “I believe so, yes,” Hugh confirmed. “She has a very large wingspan for her body size right now, but I have little doubt she will grow into these very impressive feathers.”

  Hugh was proud for no reason he could think of. The gryphlet was not his. She was merely a stray he had picked up out of the kindness of his heart. He would have no influence on her future as an adult. There was no reason he should feel so proud of what she would no doubt become. Still, he did feel pride in her and for her. She was going to be a beautiful creature with uncommon talents and if her reactions so far were anything to go by, a beautiful soul.

  If nobody managed to crush her spirit before then.

  Hugh didn’t like that idea at all. Not one bit. But what could he do?

  It was simple, realle wimple, y. He would do what he could for her while he was here. Beyond that, he had no idea. Maybe the Jinn could take her in when he had to leave. He had to come up with some solution that would protect this prec
ious creature. He just didn’t know what that solution would be at the moment. Perhaps fate would step in once more to provide it.

  “Will that mud come off her primaries?” The boy’s voice broke into Hugh’s dark thoughts. “Da said to bring you a kettle you can keep over the fire so you have warm water for washing. I’ll also bring a pot of cold water for drinking, miss, so you won’t go thirsty.” The boy addressed the gryphlet directly.

  “How know name?”

  The boy’s gaze went from her to Hugh in confusion. “I’ve been calling her Miss as a short form of what her parents called her,” Hugh explained with a grimace only the boy could see.

  Understanding dawned over the boy’s features, along with an unexpected compassion as he turned back to the gryphlet.

  “Da taught me the polite way to address young females is to call them miss. Like Miss Jenny who teaches me letters and Miss Sara who helps Ma in the stillroom. Married ladies are called Missus. Since you’re a young female, it’s only polite to call you miss, miss.”

  The kitten scrunched up her little nose and made a mewling sound that probably was laughter. At least the boy seemed to interpret it as such. He laughed with her and tentatively reached out to touch her uninjured paw.

  “I burned my arm once,” the boy said in a slow, careful way. Hugh had seen the youngster eyeing Miss’s injured paw. “Ma’s salve works wonders, miss. See?” He held up his forearm and pulled back his sleeve to reveal a white scar. That burn had been bad when it had been made.

  “Hurt?” she asked, stopping eating for a moment to look at his arm.

  “Yeah, it hurt when it happened, but the salve takes the sting out and makes it heal. You should try it at the very least. I bet your paw hurts something awful, don’t it?”

  “Hurtss,” she agreed, holding up her little paw. It was angry and red, puckered in places where the burns were worst.

  “Touch this.” The boy held the uncovered earthen pot up to the gryphlet, offering it to her. She sniffed it first and then dared to dip her paw into the wide mouth of the container. It was big enough that she could do so without further injury and Hugh wondered why he hadn’t thought of the boy’s unique approach.