The Dragon of Trelian (9 page)

“Calen, please,” Meg whispered into the silence. “Say something. You’re the only person who knows. I can’t tell anyone else. If my family knew, they’d take him away. I couldn’t stand that.”

She looked up at him, hopeful and scared. Calen watched her watching him, both of them trying to read the other.

“I’ll help you, Meg,” he said. She smiled, and Calen thought he had never seen a sweeter sight. “Of course I’ll help you. I don’t know anything about dragons, really, but I’ll learn. Mage Fredrin’s old library —”

Her worry returned in an instant. “But you can’t ask Serek! If he found out about Jakl . . .”

Calen smiled grimly. “I won’t ask him. I know how to find some things out on my own.”

If Meg heard any of the bitterness in his words, she gave no sign. “You really think there might be something in Fredrin’s books?”

“Have you ever seen that library? I’m pretty sure
everything
is in one of Fredrin’s books somewhere. It’s just a question of figuring out where to look.” That would be the hard part. He could start with the Erylun — there must be
something
about dragons in there, and maybe that would lead to other references. . . .

Meg placed a hand on his arm. “Thank you, Calen.”

He smiled back at her, a real smile this time.
She’s my friend,
he thought suddenly.
I have a friend. Why would Serek try so hard to avoid this?

They stayed for a good part of the afternoon, talking about everything and nothing in the way that Calen supposed friends did. Meg asked him questions about his life before Serek, and seemed shocked to learn that he didn’t have any family of his own. When she told him stories about her sisters and parents and that Nan Vera person who always seemed to be around, Calen tried to imagine what it must be like to be part of such a large and complex arrangement of people. Sometimes it just sounded exhausting, but he thought that other times it must be kind of nice.

Jakl nudged at Meg for attention periodically, but otherwise seemed content just to have her nearby. Calen kept stealing glances at the dragon, still trying to accept what he was seeing. A
dragon,
by the gods! If someone had told him yesterday that today he’d be sitting in a secret cave with a princess and a dragon, he never would have believed it. And here it was, really happening.

Eventually they got up to leave, saying good-bye to Jakl — Meg with another belly rub, Calen with a more reserved pat on the neck. Those yellow eyes still made him more than a little nervous.

As they made their way back through the tunnel, Calen spoke into the quiet blackness. “Thank you for bringing me here, Meg,” he said. “I’m honored that you shared your secret with me.”

He couldn’t see her face, but somehow he knew she was smiling again. “You’re welcome,” she said softly. “And thank you, too.”

THEY PARTED ON THE ROAD, OUT
of sight of the gate. Calen went back toward the castle, and Meg waited, not wanting anyone to notice the two of them too long together. She was probably being overly cautious, but all it would take was one person asking awkward questions and she would be in big trouble. She and Calen both, now. She hadn’t done him any favors, taking him to see Jakl like that. She still couldn’t really believe that she’d done it.

She also couldn’t really imagine how this situation could ever turn out well. Did she honestly expect to be able to hide Jakl forever? Someday, the truth was going to come out. And then — what? There was no way Mother and Father would ever just allow her to raise a dragon. Dragons had been systematically driven away from the castle environs for years and years for a reason, after all. They were dangerous! They flew around and breathed fire and were big enough to eat cows and horses and people and anything else they chose. Any guard or soldier who saw a dragon would attempt to kill it on sight. No one would be able to understand how attached she’d become — even now, she could feel Jakl’s warm, comforting presence back in the cave, like a small and distant sun.

The thought of losing that was awful. And there was no doubt that if the wrong people found out, they’d try to take him away from her.

Lately, though, she’d begun to realize that Jakl might not . . .
allow
that to happen. Which gave her another good reason to keep him a secret. She knew he wouldn’t just go off and attack the castle, or her family, but if anyone tried to come between them . . .

Squinting into the distance, she decided enough time had passed since Calen had gone ahead through the gate. She began walking, slipping into her Mellie persona as she went — head down, shoulders slumped, focused on nothing but getting back to her mistress, errands complete. The gate guard barely glanced at her as she went back through.
How nice it must be,
she thought wistfully,
to have such freedom! To be beneath notice, free to come and go as you please.

Once past the gate, she took off running across the ward. Gods, she loved to run. Loved the feel of her legs pumping, stretching out, propelling her forward, her loose hair flying behind her. Running down the long, dark hallways of the castle just wasn’t the same, especially not while wearing a dress and balancing a golden circlet on her head. Nan Vera invariably caught her at it and made her stop, anyway.
Princesses walk, Meglynne!
Ugh.

She took a roundabout way back to her rooms, checking the hallway to make sure it was empty and then slipping quickly and quietly past her sisters’ doors and down to her own. She opened the door and darted inside, closing it behind her. Safe at last.

Then she turned around and saw Maerlie and Morgan sitting side by side like disapproving bookends in the deep, rose-colored chairs Mother had had made for all the girls’ rooms several years ago. Her sisters were staring at her expectantly, arms crossed and eyebrows raised.

Meg froze, torn between trying to explain her way out of this and turning and running right back out the door. What were they
doing
here?

Several seconds of unpleasant silence passed. Finally, Morgan leaned forward in her chair.

“Hello, sister,” she said calmly. “Did you have a good afternoon?”

Meg swallowed. “Yes, thank you,” she said. “And you?”

“Yes, lovely, thanks. Maerlie and I met with the seamstress about our dresses for the wedding, and then we had a pleasant lunch with Mother and Queen Carlinda.”

“How nice,” said Meg, still standing with her back pressed against the door. “Queen Carlinda seems very kind. Do you find her so?”

“Yes, quite,” Morgan answered. “You really must take some time to chat with her soon.”

Meg nodded politely and stole a glance at Maerlie. She was sitting back in her chair with an amused smile on her face. When she caught Meg looking, she gave a quick shake of her head:
Sorry, you’re on your own.

“Maerlie,” said Morgan, after watching their silent exchange, “why don’t you tell our dear sister who came calling for her this afternoon?”

“Oh, do you mean that handsome young man with the prince’s party? What
was
his name? Winston? Wilhelm?”

“Wilem?” Meg blurted, stepping away from the door. “Wilem came calling for me?”

Both sisters turned slowly back to look at her with predatory smiles.

“Yes, Wilem,
that
was his name. Quite the charmer, wasn’t he, Morgan?”

“He certainly was,” Morgan said. “He seemed so disappointed to find you not at home, Meg.”

Meg looked back and forth between them. “What — what did you tell him? Where did you say I’d gone?”

Morgan’s eyes went round and innocent. “Well, that was quite a quandary, since we had no idea
where
you were. We had to come up with something, of course, so we told him you were out riding with your favorite suitor — what name did we give him, Maerlie?”

“Micah.”

“Yes, right, we said you were out with dear Micah and that we didn’t expect you back anytime soon, because out of all the eager young men pursuing you, this one was especially handsome and intelligent —”

“And muscular,” Maerlie put in.

“Right, and
muscular,
and so we were certain you’d want to spend as much time as possible in his company. . . .”

Meg stared, unable to think of anything to say. Surely they were only teasing; surely they would never —

When both of them burst into helpless peals of laughter, she had her answer. Maerlie was practically crying, she was laughing so hard. Meg felt her face go red with mingled anger and embarrassment.

“That wasn’t funny,” she said softly.

“Oh, Meg,” Maerlie said, wiping at her eyes. “You had it coming, for the position you put us in today.”

“Then — did he really come calling for me? Or was that a joke, too?”

“Yes, he really came calling,” said Morgan. “But we told him you were off seeing to some wedding details for Maerlie and that we didn’t know when you’d be back. Of course, it was harder to convince Mother —”

“
Mother
was looking for me, too?” This was awful.

“You were gone for hours, Meg!” said Maerlie. “Did you think no one would notice?”

Morgan shook her head. “If Maerlie hadn’t argued so passionately on your behalf, I would have told Mother the truth. But instead we told her we’d had an argument and that you went out to take a walk and cool off.”

“So we’ve covered for you with everyone else,” Maerlie said, “but I’m afraid you’re going to have to tell us where you really were. And to save you some time, I’ll say straight out that we will not believe you were merely out for a walk somewhere. Not dressed like that, you weren’t.”

Meg stood silently, head down, trying to think. What could she say that they’d believe? Maybe it was all right to mention Calen, but that still wouldn’t explain her clothing. . . .

At a loss, she looked up to find them staring at her again. Morgan looked angry. Maerlie looked hurt.

“You’ve always been able to tell us the truth before, Meg,” Maerlie said quietly. “It’s obvious you’re standing there trying to make something up. Why won’t you just tell us? Do you really trust us so little?”

“Don’t, Maerlie. Don’t say it like that. I do trust you.” She hoped Morgan wouldn’t notice that her last sentence wasn’t exactly directed at both of them.

“But?” asked Morgan.

Meg bit her lip. “But I can’t tell you this. I’m sorry.”

Morgan and Maerlie looked at each other. Something passed wordlessly between them, and Morgan rose. She touched Meg’s hand on the way to the door, and left.

“Can you tell me, Meg?” Maerlie asked once she was gone. “Just me? You know I won’t say anything if you don’t want me to. Not even to Morgan, although you must know you’re hurting her with this secrecy.”
Hurting me, too,
Meg could hear her saying beneath the words.

Meg walked over and sank into the chair Morgan had left empty. She closed her eyes to shut out Maerlie’s unhappy face and rested her head back against the rich, soft fabric. She wanted to tell. She wanted to throw herself down on the floor with her head in Maerlie’s lap and confess everything, to feel her sister’s strong hands stroking her hair and hear her calm, wise words making sense of it all. She had always gone to Maerlie with every problem, every pain, every bit of news she’d been bursting to tell, every fear and worry. But this time she knew she couldn’t. She held Jakl’s life in her hands. She had already risked one friend’s life today — that was true, no matter how many times she told herself Jakl would never have hurt Calen — and the instincts that had guided her then, that had convinced her that bringing Calen to the cave was the right thing, those instincts were screaming at her now to be strong, keep silent.
Don’t let her in.

“Gods, what
is
it, Meg?” Maerlie whispered. “Why can’t you trust me?”

I can’t. I’m sorry.
Meg opened her eyes. She suddenly felt very tired. “Please stop. Just stop asking. I can’t tell you.”

“Meg, please —”

“Can’t you please just leave it alone? Why do you need to know so badly?”

Maerlie seemed taken aback. “Because . . . because we’re worried about you.
I’m
worried about you. You disappear without a word to anyone, and not for the first time, I might add, and then you show up in those clothes —”

“Why do you have to worry?” Meg leaned over the arm of the chair. “Why must you assume it’s something to worry about?”

“Meg —”

“Why can’t
you
trust
me,
Maerlie? Why can’t you trust me to have this to myself, to take care of it by myself?”

Maerlie didn’t say anything. She sat back in the chair and watched Meg’s face unhappily.

“All right,” she said finally. “I’ll stop asking. I do trust you, Meg. And I love you.” She folded her hands in her lap and paused, then went on. “But please be careful. Secrets . . . secrets can be dangerous. If you keep them too long, too close, they get bigger. They breed. They come between people, push them apart. And I don’t want anything to come between us, Meg. Ever.”

But it has,
Meg realized sadly.
It’s come between us already.
She reached over toward her sister, and Maerlie grasped her hand. “I’ll be careful, I promise,” Meg said.