Chapter 6

ALYS ASSUMED THAT they would set out for Griswold immediately, so she was surprised when—after she thought they were all set—Selendrile said, "Wait here."

"For what?"

"You said we'd need gold and silver."

"Ah," Alys said, "of which you have..."

He gave a perfectly charming smile. "Much."

"Much." Alys sighed. "I can imagine. Wouldn't it be faster if I went with you?"

He shook his head.

"Once it's really dark, they'll close and lock the town gates."

Again he shook his head.

"You don't trust me," she said.

He just smiled.

By the time he came back, clutching a leather bag of coins, and by the time she rebraided his hair and by the time they'd walked to Griswold, the sky had turned from gray to black. Now here they were, standing with only the moon to light them, trying to convince the night watch that they were, in fact, harmless and should be allowed to enter.

The guard who had the lantern leaned down from his vantage on top of the wall, holding the light out to get a better look at them. But since he was up about eight feet higher than they were, they got a better look at him than he got at them.

Alys thought he looked cranky and suspicious.

The other guard seemed to be the first man's superior; the one with the lantern had fetched him when Alys and Selendrile had knocked on the wooden gate, demanding entrance and refusing to go away and come back in the morning. Alys couldn't see him, but he sounded cranky and suspicious. He said, "How do we know you ain't that witch?"

Selendrile, who'd been looking down to avoid the glare of the light in his eyes, jerked his head up, but appeared more amused than startled.

Word of her couldn't have traveled this far this fast, could it? "What witch?" Alys asked.

"That old witch lives behind one of them waterfalls up to the glen." The guard jerked his head in the general direction of the mountain.

Alys realized she'd been holding her breath. She shook her head to indicate she didn't know what he was talking about.

"Sold her soul to the devil for the witch-power," he explained. "And never did use it for nothing but mischief and sorrow all her life. But now she's old and close to dying, she's looking to buy someone else's soul to take her place. Been bothering decent, law-abiding folk."

Alys continued to shake her head.

Selendrile finally spoke up. "No witches here," he said in a tone that gave away the fact that he was suspiciously close to laughing.

Alys added: "Does either of us look like an old witch?"

The guards were unimpressed with irony or logic. "Gate opens at dawn. Come back then."

If she weren't disguised as a boy in tunic, breeches, and cap, she could have started crying, loudly, to see if that would help, but under the circumstances it probably wouldn't. The first guard straightened, pulling the lantern up with him. Seeing the light move away, Alys yelled up, "It was the dragon's fault." She was aware of Selendrile watching her, but she was watching the light. It stopped moving, returned to the wall.

"Dragon?" the guard said.

Alys decided to put a little quiver into her voice after all. "It killed our parents, ravaged our fields. We didn't dare stay another night. We were afraid it might come back." She pointed vaguely in the direction from which they'd come, then snuffled loudly, rubbing her sleeve arm over her nose.

The guard's voice became more gentle. "How old are you lads?"

"Twelve," she said, because there was no way she could pass as a fifteen-year-old boy and because she figured the younger the guards thought them, the more sympathetic they would be. Then, indicating Selendrile, she said, "And seventeen," which was what he looked like. Seventeen, going on three hundred.

The guards muttered together.

"All right," the senior one finally said.

There was another delay, then the creak of rope and wood as the latch was raised, and the gate swung open.

The guard stood in the middle of the open space, glowering at them over his crossbow sights.

Alys forced down a swallow.

"Move, move," he told them from between clenched teeth.

Selendrile gave her a shove just strong enough that she staggered forward a couple of paces. Her first thought was that he was offering her up as the target, but he came with her, and the guard continued to aim at the spot where they had stood, all the while anxiously peering into the shadows beyond the walls.

The heavy gate thudded back into place, maneuvered by the guard who'd been holding the lantern. Once the latch was secured, the other lowered his crossbow, apparently satisfied that no one was coming in with them. A lot of good gate or wall would do to keep Selendrile or his real kin out.

"You got people in Griswold?" the guard asked.

"No," Alys said. "But we do have a few copper pieces for lodging." She wanted him to know they weren't going to make a nuisance of themselves begging, without indicating they had enough that it'd be worth his while to rob them.

But now that she and Selendrile were in, the guards lost interest. The first was already scrambling up to resume his position on the wall. "The Green Barrel's probably your best bet, then," the other said, waving airily in an arc that indicated three-fourths of the town. "There's probably cleaner and definitely cheaper, but at least you won't wake up in the morning to find your throats slit."

While Alys paused to sort that out, Selendrile took her arm and started pulling her in the general direction the guard had indicated.

The inhabitants of Saint Toby's would be mostly home and in bed by this hour, but Griswold was a lot bigger, if no grander, and there were still lights on in many of the buildings and people out on the streets. For Alys it was a strange sensation, being in a town big enough to get lost in, being surrounded by people she hadn't known all her life. By the time she and Selendrile finally found themselves in front of the Green Barrel Inn, her heart was beating too hard and fast for her to ask Selendrile to wait while she caught her breath.

He swept her past the painted rain barrel that gave the place its name and in through the open front door.

This is where we get set upon by thieves and cutthroats, Alys thought, just waiting for an innocent victim to blunder in. Unless, of course, anybody took more than the hastiest glance at Selendrile, in which case they were sure to see beyond his human disguise to the monster beneath, and that would start a commotion of a different sort.

But nobody at the dozen or so tables in the place looked at them with anything that even the wary Alys could call more than indifferent curiosity. From across the room came a skinny little man who was no taller than Alys, wiping his hands on his apron and smiling. His gaze flickered from Alys to Selendrile and he looked neither murderous nor about to panic. "May I help you?" he asked instead. Asked Selendrile, who appeared the older.

How can he look at him and not see? Alys wondered. She said: "My brother and I, we're looking for a room."

The innkeeper shifted his gaze back to her and raised his brows skeptically.

"Our parents were killed in a dragon raid," she said. "It knocked down our house, burned our fields. We've come to Griswold looking for work."

One of the people at the nearest table asked, "You Upton's boys then?"

It was too dangerous; if somebody here knew this man Upton, somebody else might know his sons. "No," Alys admitted. "We're from the other side of Saint Toby's village. But there wasn't any work to be had there. We've got enough money for the night"—Selendrile had brought enough money to buy the place, but she certainly wasn't going to announce that—"or we could work for our keep."

The innkeeper hesitated and Alys nudged Selendrile. The gold was useless—there was no way a pair of orphaned peasants could come by gold—but she'd had him put a few of the silver and copper pieces in his pocket. Now he took one of these out and held it to the innkeeper.

"This'll get you your lodgings and a bit of supper if you haven't eaten yet," the man said. "Breakfast comes with the room. Odelia," he called to a girl who was cleaning one of the tables. She looked just like him except for the fact that she had more hair and was obviously a couple of years younger than Alys. "You and your sister get a room set up."

"This way, please," the little girl said. She led them through the kitchen, where she introduced them as paying customers to another girl. This older one put down the spoon she was using to stir a kettle of soup and gave Selendrile a long, studied stare.

Here it comes, Alys thought.

With admirable calm, the older sister said, "We need to get straw for the bedding." She flung her arm around her sister's shoulders, but Alys saw her fingers dig into Odelia's upper arm, and the younger girl's confused expression as her sister hustled her outdoors. Run, run, every instinct warned Alys. They're going to raise an alarm. Selendrile was looking around the kitchen, oblivious to it all, peeking into the corners, looking under the counters. "We've got to get out of here," Alys warned him in a frantic whisper.

"We just got here," Selendrile pointed out, picking up a clay pot lid as though he'd never seen one before.

The two girls returned, carrying armloads of straw. Alys caught the hurried glance Odelia gave Selendrile before she lowered her gaze. "This way," she murmured.

But that wasn't fear which was causing her cheeks to redden. Alys glanced at the older sister, who was staring at Selendrile again.

Oh, heaven help me—they're flirting with him, she realized.

The two sisters led them to an upstairs room and began stuffing the straw into the mattress.

Alys tugged on Selendrile's arm. "There's only one sleeping pallet," she hissed at him.

He'd been looking out the window at the people in the street below, and he turned to her with a blank expression that could have been either lack of understanding or his usual give-nothing expression.

"What's that?" the older girl asked, straightening.

"There's only one sleeping pallet," Alys repeated.

"There's hardly room for two."

"Yes," Alys said, finding her patience wearing thin at the smug tone, "but there are two of us."

"But this one's wide enough for two," said the younger girl, Odelia, "and you are brothers." Both girls seemed on the verge of a giggling fit.

"Of course we're brothers"—Alys was balanced between annoyance and panic—"but we need two sleeping pallets."

Selendrile came up behind her and flung his arm around her shoulders in imitation of the older sister's protective gesture. Somehow Alys kept from jumping out of her skin. Selendrile told the girls, "My brother kicks and snores terribly."

This time the girls did burst out laughing, but, leaving, they promised to bring up more bedding.

Alys sat on the sleeping pallet and rested her head in her hands and waited for the thudding of her heart to slow down. "I think I'll stay here until I've calmed back down," she muttered between her fingers. "Barricade the door for a year or two, will you?"

Selendrile stooped down beside her, his leg brushing against her arm. This time Alys did jump. But there was no way to move back to put more distance between them, not without scrambling over the mattress. "Staying in the room makes no sense," he said. "We've got to go out and mingle with the townspeople."

Alys sighed.

The worst part of it was knowing he was right.