Page 76

I nod, because the instant Fenrother is mentioned, a lump forms in my throat which makes talking almost impossible. I’m still incredibly angry at him, but I also miss him with an intensity I can’t get my head around.

I think Abbe smiles. “A Wyrm birth is nothing special. You will be fine.”

“Fenrother said his mother died giving birth to him.”

“That is what he was told,” Cedric says. Abbe gives him a savage look, and he grabs the platter he has set down and pushes it up at me. “You need to eat.”

There is fresh fruit, some cheese, and several large slices of bread already buttered. I am hungry, but I just don’t know if I can trust my stomach.

“I know.” I pull the platter closer and eye the fruit, wondering if I can manage the sweetness of a strawberry. I pick up a slice of green apple instead.

The first bite causes me to salivate in a way I know is going to mean trouble. I swallow as quickly as I can and put the remains back down with an apologetic look at Cedric.

Heard pops back into existence, holding a small pitcher and a glass.

“Drink this,” Abbe says. “It will help you with your digestion.”

Heard pours out a pink liquid into the glass and hands it to me.

I sniff at it. Other than a slight sweet scent, it seems like mostly water.

“I’m not going to start hallucinating or anything, am I?” I ask Heard. He smiles at me.

“He cannot respond,” Abbe says. “The queen took his speech, but the drink will do you good.”

Heard clutches the pitcher to his translucent chest and continues to smile. My stomach does a dance which I’m beginning to recognise. I take a quick sip of the liquid. It tastes like water only better, and as I take a larger mouthful, the squirming in my guts subsides.

I think I feel almost human again.

“Thank you,” I whisper, not wanting the tears which spring into my eyes unbidden.

“You need your Wyrm,” Abbe says. “We are a poor substitute.”

“It doesn’t matter.” I shake my head. “He is cursed which means I am cursed. Once I give birth, he dies. There can only be one Wyrm.”

Abbe snorts, and I’m jolted by her dismissal. “Who told you this?” she says, rolling her eyes.

“He did. It’s what he’s been told. The queen said the same.”

Cedric chuckles. Even Heard seems to be swaying with silent laughter.

“There is no such curse,” Abbe says. “We would know. The Duegar are the keepers of the curses, for all we are tasked with here in the Yeavering. The Wyrm is an enchanted creature, not a cursed one.”

“He won’t die?” My heart beats like it has been freed from my body. “Fenrother will live?”

The joy which flows through me is tempered by my situation.

I need to tell him. He needs to know he doesn’t have to swear fealty to the queen. My great Wyrm needs to know he is free.

FENROTHER

Moranik rises above us from the river valley below.

“Just how are you thinking of breaking the Barghest out?” I yawn, thinking about my Alice and how I could be ripping my way into the Faerie hills right now rather than messing around with Warden and a Barghest.

These particular monsters give everyone the creeps. As their presence in a village or a town usually signals death, they are mostly outcasts. Who knows why Guyzance chose to imprison one. Or this one in particular.

He presumably had his reasons.