Keeper of the Flame (3 page)

“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 secret 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 chair. 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, really. 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 precious 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.

“Skwissh,” she said, cocking her head to the side as she encountered the slippery salve for the first time. “No hurt.” Her eyes blinked rapidly in surprise as she pulled her paw out of the jar. It had only a small amount of salve on the tip of the paw, where the burns were worst. If that was all she’d allow, it was at least in the right place.

The boy moved closer and held up one hand, palm outward as he moved it closer. “It takes the sting out, don’t it?” His tone was encouraging. He dipped his fingers into the jar and took a dollop of the salve out. “Can I put more on for you?”

This time the gryphlet held out her paw more eagerly. She understood now, Hugh thought, that the salve would stop the constant pain. The boy was a genius. And gentle with his approach to frightened young things. Hugh’s opinion of the innkeeper and his family rose with each interaction. When he left, he’d leave them extra coin and good word for their business with the Jinn.

Miss let the boy put more salve on her paw, her fatigue beginning to catch up with her as the pain decreased and she became warm, dry and sated. Hugh motioned to the boy to spread the towels and blankets he’d brought next to the low-slung bed. Hugh would sleep only a foot or so above the gryphlet—if she would accept the fabric nest. If not, he’d figure a way to make them both comfortable for the night. Somehow. Even if he was the one who ended up sleeping on the floor.

Hugh stood, lifting Miss in his arms and placing her in the curl of thick blankets the boy had arranged. He still needed to do a little work on her wings, but the young gryphon was dozing and would probably sleep for a while. Hugh could work the mud out of her feathers as easily while she was asleep as when she was awake, and the boy seemed eager to help.

“Does your father need you in the common room?” Hugh asked.

“Not for a while yet.” The boy smiled, speaking quietly. “He said I was to help you and the young miss.”

Hugh could see the boy’s excitement at the idea. He liked being around the young gryphon with all the open honesty of the young.

“What is your name?”

“Tomlin, sir. You can call me Tom.”

“Well, young Tom, you are very good with her. Would you be willing to help me with her wings? She has a few pounds of mud in her feathers that needs to come out. And we might need some kind of oil to help restore her shafts. I haven’t dealt with gryphons much. Do you know of anything we could use that you might have in the inn?”

The boy nodded. “I know just the thing, sir. Ma keeps it for the stillroom. I’ll come back with the water and the special oil. Just be a tic.” The boy was already out the door, away on his errand. Hugh looked at the sleeping gryphon and then at the tray that held his meal. With a shrug, he moved the chair to the table and dug in. He’d need his strength for the hours to come grooming feathered wings.

Dragon scale was so much easier, by comparison. Feathers were too delicate. But the little thing couldn’t help the fact that she’d been born gryphon instead of dragon. Hugh would help her as much as he could.

Over the next hour and a half, Hugh and Tomlin cleaned Miss’s feathers and then worked small amounts of soothing oil into the abused shafts. The little gryphon slept through the whole procedure and Hugh thought maybe this was the first time in a long time that she felt safe, warm and well fed. He vowed it wouldn’t be the last, no matter what he had to do to give her a secure future.

If he had to, he’d smuggle her out of Helios and bring her back to his land, where he knew she would be welcome. But first he had to get her through the next few days. Hugh thought he’d found allies in the innkeeper and his young son. Time would tell if his instincts were correct.