Page 11 of The Fire Apprentice (Sylvania #5)

J ane bit her lip as Rowan crawled across the ledge away from her. Had she really offered to share a blanket with him? That meant they’d be sleeping... close together. Jane swallowed.

At the edge of the ledge, he unclipped the rope from his belt and rose up on his knees, opening his pack.

“I don’t suppose you have some magical way to stop us from rolling off the ledge in the night?” she asked.

Rowan regarded her a moment too long before pulling out one of the hammocks. As he spread it lengthwise along the ledge she moved out of the way. Crouching at one end, he slid his palm over the rock above it, as if examining the bumps and roughness. He did this motion a few times until his fingers settled on one place. He had an object in his other hand—a round thing like a walnut. He leaned to look past her briefly and pried the two halves open. Something stretchy inside resisted his pull.

Jane checked over her shoulder and saw empty open space. What had he looked at? The sun had set, leaving a yellow glow over the distant mountains.

Rowan had the walnut shell open and he dabbed a finger into a gooey substance inside it, turned, and spread it onto the cliff. He lifted the end of the hammock and pressed it into the goo.

It held.

“What is that?” Jane asked as Rowan crawled past her to the other end of the hammock and began the motions again.

“Fairy glue.”

“What’s it made of? Slug slime and magic?”

“Was that a lucky guess or did Rose tell you?”

“Wait, it’s actually made from slug slime?”

“And magic.”

Was he making fun of her? “How do you get it? Scrape it off slugs?”

“They wouldn’t like that. We scrape it up after they pass. It’s especially potent if you harvest it after they’ve mated. Plus they make a lot of it when they, you know, have slug sex.”

He had to be teasing her. “Have you watched slugs have sex?”

“Yes.”

Jane lifted her brow.

“It’s quite romantic.”

She shook her head. “How does the glue work? Can I move the hammock?” She pointed at the first place he’d hung it.

“You can try.” He sounded challenging, more smirky than she’d ever heard him.

Jane tugged on the hammock. It held to the rocks. She gripped it in both fists and pulled.

“Careful. Don’t fall backward and topple over the edge.”

Jane let go of the hammock. It truly was fastened to the face of the cliff.

“How will we get it off in the morning?” she asked.

“Slug glue works only from twilight through the night. Once the sun rises it dries out and falls off.”

“So we need to wake up before the sun or we’ll fall off the peak?”

“Only onto the ledge. That’s why I hung it down low.”

“Can it truly hold both of us?”

“A patch of fairy glue can hold many horse-weights. And we’ll have two patches.”

“And the hammock?”

“Woven with fairy thread.”

“Of course.”

Rowan unfurled the hammock enough to spread his blanket inside. Jane caught the end and helped. He handed her a travel biscuit and her gourd and they had a quick meal as the evening chill settled in. Thankfully Rowan came up with a method for her to take care of her bodily needs by clinging to one end of the hammock and hanging her bottom off the edge of the ledge. After describing it, he turned away and intensely concentrated on slowly coiling a length of rope from his pack as she awkwardly followed his instructions.

She shivered as she straightened her clothing and placed her shoes up against the cliff so they wouldn’t fall over. She tucked her loose suspenders into the top of her trousers so they wouldn’t get hung up on anything. Like Rowan. And she unbound her hair and ran her fingers through it to comb it out, with help from the stiff breeze.

He ducked his head. “Ready?”

An uneven laugh escaped her throat. He turned. She inhaled slowly and waited.

Rowan stashed his pack by her shoes and sat sideways on the hammock, pulling the fabric out under his thighs. He positioned his seat on the back side of the hammock against the cliff, turned, and lay back, pulling his bare feet in. He held out the side for her to sit on, and she copied his motions and lay down beside him. Her shoulder dug into his bicep and he smelled nice, like his blanket had when he’d first given it to her. And he was warm. The blanket was under them and hanging out of the hammock. She pulled the edge of it over and around her body.

It was so uncomfortable.

“I might try turning,” Rowan said. His arm moved up away from her side and he shifted until his back pressed against her. His back was also warm. She wanted to turn with him and wrap her arms around him. That would be comfortable.

Instead, she turned away from him.

Lying back to back was better. Her face was against the hammock but she could breathe well enough through the woven material. Hints of cold wind whispered through, but she was warm where the blanket swathed her and Rowan was a furnace against her back. She yawned. She wanted to flip over. She always flipped over once before she fell asleep.

But if she flipped over she’d be practically holding him. One move and she’d seem like she was rubbing up on him. But if she didn’t flip over she’d never be able to sleep. And the circumstances were dire. They were sleeping in a hammock hanging on the side of a cliff, for skies’ sake. And besides, she’d only promised Maryanne not to fall in love with him. She hadn’t promised anything about not cuddling against him. For warmth, of course.

Jane hitched her hips over and her body followed. She did it once more and faced his broad back. She resisted putting her arm around him and simply snuggled against him.

Rowan shifted.

Was he uncomfortable? What if his face was pressed into the hammock? Or what if, on his side, the hammock was up against the hard cliff wall and his face was mashed into that ?

“Are you comfortable?” she asked, yawning.

She could hear the gears of his mind coming up with a reply that wasn’t a direct lie. “I don’t mind it,” he said.

“Here.” She tugged on his shoulder and his body followed, turning over toward her. She nosed her way under his arm and he put it around her, under her head. He ended up back on his back but now she faced him and curved against his side. The hammock forced her legs to straighten against his and she pressed the tops of her cold toes on his warm skin. “Is this okay?” She yawned again, settling into him and closing her eyes.

“It’s fine,” he said softly. He pulled the blanket over her.

The wind whistled over the rocks outside. Jane listened to it in the dark, along with Rowan’s quiet breathing. His chest rose and fell against hers. Everything was warm, from her feet nestled against his calves to her cheek lying beside his chest. As soon as she settled down and closed her eyes, the memory of gripping the cliff walls returned, as if she were reclimbing it. Last night she’d been so tired she’d slipped into slumber a moment after closing her eyes, but lying against Rowan held away her exhaustion.

They were so close to Elle. They’d reach her tomorrow. Rowan really had been able to find her. Would they take her home? Or let her stay and apprentice with the dragon? Jane would have to stay, too, if Elle stayed. She smiled, imagining a look of horror on Maryanne’s face if they returned without Elle and said they’d left her behind alone.

But if she stayed, how would they get home when Elle finished her apprenticeship? The dragon might take Elle home but it probably wouldn’t want to carry her. Could she get down this peak on her own? Maybe Rowan would come help her when the time came. She snuggled into the warmth of her hammock bed and put the thoughts from her mind. She had to meet the dragon and see Elle first.

No forest sounds reached them, only the soft wind. Rowan’s chest expanded slowly. As it deflated, his whole body relaxed beneath hers before his breathing resumed its even pace. She hugged him close with her free arm as the rock wall towered before her again, knowing he would guide her safely up it. His hand came to rest gently on her back.

Jane dropped. Panic reared up but arms tightened around her. She wasn’t falling. She’d only been dreaming of cliffs and climbing. She was lying motionless on someone with arms holding her safe and she was wrapped in warmth.

She rested her cheek against the warm fabric and relaxed, stroking its softness with her fingertips. She was in a hammock, she slowly remembered—that’s what the falling feeling had been. Rowan had said the slug glue holding up the hammock would wear off at dawn, and the hammock would fall a hand’s width to land on the ledge beneath it. The hammock had fallen but she was safe and she hadn’t even landed on hard stone, only on... Oh. Oh no.

She was lying on top of Rowan.

Her pulse accelerated as she came awake. How long had she been on top of him? Skies he felt nice beneath her and with his hands on her back. If she pretended to be asleep, would he keep lying still and holding her? He could probably tell her heart had started racing, though, pressed up against his own. And her fingers splayed against his chest might have been caressing him.

Jane lifted her head and his hold on her loosened. The crown of her head brushed the hammock, splitting open the gap at the top. Her hair was pooled all around her shoulders on Rowan’s chest. Morning light shone into Rowan’s green eyes watching her.

Her breath caught and she became the deer startled motionless by the hunter. He was flat on his back with his head lifted up to gaze at her. His long hair hung to the side of his bare forehead and his lips made the sweetest bow. She resisted the urge to crawl up his body and kiss them. She forced her own lips to move. “Are you all right?”

He blinked, staring. “Did you sleep well?” he answered instead.

“Yes. Are you injured?”

“Why would I be injured?”

“From the fall.”

His eyes crinkled at the corners. He jerked his head to the side, gesturing for her to move. “Off,” he said, closing his eyes and resting his head back. But he said it so gently he might have been saying, Please come kiss me.

She pushed her fingers against the hammock fabric and reached an arm out to find the ledge, shuddering when her hand met freezing air and stone. But she couldn’t delay, not with Rowan lying under her. She got a knee out, too, only now she was halfway straddling him and as she pushed herself sideways, she rubbed against a hard bump and oh, skies, that had to be him! She scrambled away, out onto the cold, hard stone.

Frigid wind surged around her, whisking away all of the blanket’s warmth in the morning breeze. But all she could think of was that bump—Rowan’s arousal. It had to be. Had it happened because of her lying on him? Maybe not—some men woke that way every morning. But if it had been because of her, what did that mean? He’d acted petrified when she’d asked him out in the smithy. Had he changed his mind? Or maybe it wasn’t her specifically but he wanted a tumble and having a body lying on top of him and—she had to admit—snuggling against him had affected him.

Rowan’s coat came around her shoulders, warding off the cold. He stood beside her and was already turning back to the hammock. She thanked him without looking up and huddled on the ledge. Maybe he’d think she hadn’t noticed his erection. This didn’t have to be embarrassing for either of them. She would put the memory of his—she swallowed—of his morning situation out of her mind.

She held the coat closed and backed against the wall as Rowan moved the hammock away. Far away to her left, to the south, wan sunlight shone across the misty treetops of the forested valley. Before her, fluffy stretches of cloud filled the sky down to the western mountaintops and patches of mist spotted the shadowed valleys. Their western-facing ledge was deeply shadowed, but the sun must be shining on the other side of Sunshine’s peak. It would be hours before they were warmed by the light, though, unless they climbed around to the eastern side.

She shivered and pulled Rowan’s coat tighter. He was rolling the hammock into his pack, wearing only his shirtsleeves. “Your coat—”

“I’m fine.”

She bit her lip. Was it worth arguing? He wasn’t shivering and he’d be climbing again soon as he scouted out the next stretch of the cliff. She slid her arms into the sleeves and thanked him again.

Rowan polished off a travel biscuit and set off. Jane waited on the ledge, nibbling on her breakfast and watching the clouds shift as the sun rose. The remnants of mist burned off on the forest to the south and the sky overhead cleared to a brilliant blue. To the west, the clouds sank down from the mountaintops, coalescing into a solid wall of fog over the valley even as sunshine filled the empty sky. She rolled her neck and hands in circles, leaned side to side, and rotated her ankles, working out the stiffness.

Rowan dropped onto the ledge beside her. “Ready to start?”

She wasn’t but she couldn’t tell him that. He never complained about anything, and he didn’t even have to be here. She rose to her feet and gave him back his coat, knowing she’d soon be sweating with the effort of climbing.

They climbed the entire morning. Sunshine had taken Elle to a remote peak where no one would molest them. It showed the dragon was careful, which was auspicious. But the thought of Elle at the top of this tower of rock filled her with anxiety. After a midday meal of more hard biscuits, Rowan returned from climbing with a smile.

“We’re almost there.”

“Did you see Elle?”

He shook his head. “Sunshine’s den is at the top of the next climb.”

“But—”

He touched her arm. “It’s hidden. We’ll find it when we reach the top.”

Jane nodded. Her heart was hammering. Elle would be fine. She was up there and she’d be fine.

“Sunshine may be waiting for us,” Rowan said.

“How do you mean?”

“She might hear us coming.”

Jane snorted. Rowan did everything silently. He meant Sunshine would hear Jane coming, but he was too polite to say it.

“So what do I do at the top?” Would she come face to face with a dragon without Rowan there to translate?

“Stay by the trees. I’ll be right behind you.”

“Trees? Up here?”

“You’ll see.” He indicated the end of the rope as he tied it to the spring-clip and handed it to her to fasten to her belt. The rope ran up and back, as usual. “She has some sturdy trees growing up there. I used them for the ropes. I didn’t like to drive a spike into her den without asking. Or to wake her with the blow of a hammer, to be honest.”

Jane started the climb. She was getting better at finding the handholds, sometimes gripping them even before Rowan called out directions. She climbed until her head broke into sunshine as she crested the top of the rock. The rope ran a few paces across the ground to loop around a trunk in a cluster of trees covered in pale pink blossoms. Apple trees! On top of the barren rock? Only the top wasn’t barren—plants grew everywhere. But no dragon was in sight, and she saw no sign of Elle.

Jane crawled onto the top of the peak, glad of the warm sunlight although the stone under her hands was cold. She unclipped the spring-clip from her belt and lowered it down to Rowan before examining the entrance to Sunshine’s den.

Color covered the top of the peak. Twisted pine trees mixed with delicate green bushes created an unusual landscape—were those blueberry bushes? Thorny branches with russet-green leaves and white petals arced across the rocks—those were blackberry! Beside the three apple trees, a deep pool of water shimmered in the breeze, surrounded by soft grass. And orange fire mushrooms covered the vertical sides of every rock, from the wall behind the apple trees to the larger boulders all around. The wide space was like a very disorganized human garden. Jane remembered Axe’s sparse den and ached to think of the isolated dragon lying in it all alone.

Sunshine and Elle must be here somewhere among the trees and boulders. Jane pushed herself to standing and moved away from the edge toward the apple trees, stretching her muscles in all the ways they hadn’t been used while climbing. Rowan appeared without a sound and climbed onto the ledge. He unhooked the rope from his belt and coiled it, leaving it at the base of the trees.

“Ready?” he said, facing her.

Jane tried to smile. He rubbed her arm and smiled back.

She followed him past the apple trees and into the shade among tall, mushroom-covered rocks. As they moved farther, the trees dwindled until they were in a maze of boulders. Rowan scanned the surroundings as he led her deeper in, until he stopped.

“The entrance is here somewhere. Wait here a moment.”

He glanced up at the sun and all around, as if getting his bearings, before he slipped out of sight between two boulders. Jane didn’t move—not that one could get permanently lost in this limited area, but knowing her luck, she’d walk right off the edge if she tried to follow him.

In less than a count of fifty, Rowan reappeared. “This way.”

He led her in a zigzagging path between boulders until they entered a narrow channel leading inward. It narrowed so much Rowan had to take his pack off and turn sideways to fit. He examined the space overhead as if he might climb in from above but ultimately dragged his body through. Had Sunshine picked this spot knowing a large adult couldn’t enter easily?

The channel widened into a flat courtyard. Rowan stopped.

Sunshine waited on the flat stones ahead. She was as big as Axe and her scales were a brilliant green. Her eyes narrowed as they faced her. Her wings were folded but not tightly, and she crouched on her clawed feet as if about to pounce.

Where was Elle?

Rowan observed Sunshine silently but his hand wrapped around Jane’s wrist and held her tightly. Sunshine snorted a gust of hot air across the space. She blinked slowly and turned to look as she lifted one wing. Elle peeked out.

Jane started forward and Rowan’s grip tightened and held her beside him.

“Mama!” Elle cried. Sunshine lifted her wing farther and Elle clambered up and ran to Jane.

Rowan released her and she fell to her knees and wrapped her arms around Elle. Elle clung to her, her small face against Jane’s neck. Tears wet Jane’s cheeks.

“Mama,” Elle said. She pulled back. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too. I—”

“I’m learning magic. Want to see?”

Jane nodded, wiping her tears. Elle’s first thought was about magic? Her own questions could wait.

Elle detached herself and darted back toward the huge green dragon. Jane stood and stepped forward, but Rowan grabbed her again.

“Go slow,” he murmured.

Jane forced her shoulders to relax and he released her. They moved into the courtyard. Sunshine kept her gaze on them until they stopped by a boulder with a flat top. Rowan tugged on Jane’s sleeve and she sat beside him in the sun.

Sunshine’s massive head turned toward Elle, seated cross-legged on the stones a few paces away. Elle’s hair was tangled and she had smudges of dirt on her face. Her dress—the one she’d been wearing when Jane had last seen her, lying on the grass and talking to the daffodil—was in one piece, albeit dirty. But her face was glowing. Her green eyes were alight and she watched Sunshine with eager anticipation. And she sat waiting without saying a word. At home, the children were always hanging on Jane’s sleeve or asking for something, even Elle. Jane had never seen her quiet and focused like this.

How did Elle stay warm enough with only that dress and her feet bare? Sunshine didn’t have blankets. Did Sunshine truly keep her warm at night? Did she sleep under her wing? Maybe they’d been napping all morning as they waited for the sun to warm up the rocks.

Sunshine snorted again and Jane tensed. This time, Rowan put one arm around her shoulders and held her with his other hand. Dread pooled in Jane’s gut.

Sunshine exhaled and a thin stream of flame shot from her nostrils toward Elle. Rowan’s grip tightened as Jane whimpered. But Elle reached up a hand and... the flames disappeared. Elle grinned at her palm. She pressed it against the stone floor with a hiss.

She beamed up at Jane. “Did you see, Mama?”

Jane failed to get a word out so she gave a big fake smile.

Jane stared as the dragon sent stream after stream of fire at Elle, and Elle snatched each one and snuffed it out with her hands. Elle began using both hands, and the puffs of flame grew larger. “She’s learned fast,” Rowan whispered. He’d loosened his grip as Jane relaxed but kept his arm around her waist.

When the fire finally stopped coming and Sunshine lowered her head to the floor, Elle stood and stretched. She stumbled over to Sunshine and threw herself on the dragon’s neck, petting her like she would Mouser. Tears pricked Jane’s eyes. She knew where Elle wanted to be. What should she do?

Sunshine turned her snout toward them. Rowan’s arm around Jane tensed. He shook his head. He stood abruptly, letting go of Jane and stepping in front of her. Flames teased out of Sunshine’s nostrils, a small tumble of them, reaching slowly toward Rowan. Jane tried to see around him but he backed against her. The flames burned out. Sunshine hesitated, huffed, and turned away to rub her face against Elle until the child giggled.

“What did she just do?” Jane asked. Rowan was so close in front of her she had to hang on to him to stand, nudging him forward.

“Nothing.” He stared down at his palms.

Jane held on to his arms. It wasn’t nothing. Something had transpired between him and the dragon.

He lowered his hands and turned, breaking her hold on him as he stepped back. “I can tell you what Sunshine said about Elle.”

Jane frowned at the change of subject but nodded.

“I told her you’re Elle’s mother,” he said quietly, “and you hadn’t known about her ability or the workings of fire magic, being a human. And that you were frightened by her arrival and worried about Elle. Sunshine told me Elle called to her, and after so many seasons of silence from the fairies, Sunshine was elated to be called. She also considered Elle young but took her because she was eager to go. She didn’t realize no one knew Elle was leaving.”

How did the fairies manage this relationship? Did the fairy children tell their elders one day that a dragon was on the way? Why didn’t Elle tell her—or did she, and Jane wasn’t listening? Elle said so many fanciful things about talking flowers and messages on the wind that if she’d ever mentioned a dragon, it would have gone right over Jane’s head.

She was a terrible mother.

And if Elle babbled about dragons and they were real... Jane swallowed. Were the daffodils really talking? What about the wind?

“Do flowers talk?”

Rowan’s brow wrinkled. “What?”

“Do flowers talk to fairies?”

“Not that I’m aware.”

Jane sank back onto the rock seat. At least she didn’t have to worry about that. Last moon she’d snapped off a few daffodils to take on a visit to Synne, the village healer; the other flowers probably had nothing nice to say about her.

Rowan loomed beside her, as quiet as a distant mountain. So Elle had asked Sunshine to bring her here. But that knowledge solved only part of her worry. “Can Sunshine communicate with Elle?”

“Sunshine said it’s awkward. Elle’s words come to her in a babble of thoughts and emotions that she tries her best to sort out.”

“That’s not so good. Did she share anything else?”

Rowan smiled a little. “She was enthusiastic about being named after the sun’s light. She mentioned it several times.”

Elle had climbed onto Sunshine completely, as if the dragon’s neck were a pony. Jane leaned back. Rowan sank down beside her and they sat in silence, watching.

Elle eventually slid off the dragon’s neck and came to Jane’s lap. Jane introduced Rowan but Elle was already propping her little bare feet against his thigh. Elle babbled about all the mushrooms she’d eaten and apples that Sunshine kept stored and dried berries, and about sleeping under Sunshine’s wing. She pointed to a cave at the south side of the courtyard where they could go if it rained, and described drinking from pools of rainwater as if she were Mouser. She said something about a bath and how Sunshine wouldn’t make her bathe the way she had to at home.

“But I missed you, Mama,” Elle said, snuggling under Jane’s chin. “I’m glad you’re here. It’ll be so much better now.”

Sunshine watched them across the stone floor. She lay with her wings folded against her back but her eyes remained alert.

Jane met Rowan’s gaze. What was she going to do?