A Tale of Two Castles(15)

“Elo—”

“Lodie. Do not correct your elders. I prefer Lodie.”

“Elodie is prettier.”

“That may be. Why would you prefer to be a mansioner when you might be a dragon’s assistant?”

“I’ve always hoped . . .” ITs words penetrated. “Your assistant? Or a different dragon’s?” What would a dragon’s assistant do?

“I will not pay you much. I am stingy.”

The evening bells began to chime. Pay pay pay pay.

I liked the sound, but I grew frightened. Would I go to ITs lair? Would chunks of me be on ITs skewers tomorrow?

IT sniffed. “I will withdraw my offer, if you think that of me.”

Could IT read my mind? “I didn’t say anything!”

“Precisely.”

I had hesitated, so IT knew. IT waddled several yards away. I missed ITs warmth.

“What will my duties be?”

IT reared onto ITs back legs and spread ITs wings without flying. “Back away.”

I did, and quickly.

IT spewed a jet of flame, burnishing the yellow meadow and rusting the charcoal sky. “You will proclaim my powers of deduction, induction, and common sense.” IT came down heavily on ITs front legs. “And you will thread my skewers, carry my baskets, assist me with my many responsibilities.”

Proclaiming sounded well. A mansioner might proclaim.

“We will try each other out to see if we suit.”

I nodded.

“If I find you wanting, I will not keep you.”

If I found IT wanting, I wouldn’t stay.

But where would I go?

“Twenty tins for the month. I will feed you, and you may live with me. That is my offer.”

I hardly heard the sum. As soon as IT finished speaking, I demonstrated my proclaiming ability loud enough for the moon to hear. “I will serve you, Masteress Meenore, with dedication, with enthusiasm, and with whatever art nature has bestowed on me.”

IT smiled, showing every pointy yellow tooth in ITs mouth.

“Is there food at your house?”

“At my lair. Bread and cheese, which you may toast. Sundry victuals.”


The idea of food more substantial than an apple weakened my knees. I stumbled, then caught myself. At home my family and I would have shared four meals since I’d last eaten more than the apple.

“Masteress, would you pay to post a letter from me to my parents, to let them know I’m safe?”

“One letter. The scribes are all knaves: twenty tins to write a letter, twenty-five for posting, five for a small sheet of parchment, ten for a large.” IT snorted. “Ink is free.”

“Masteress Meenore, I can write my own letter.”

IT exhaled blue smoke. “You will still need parchment and the posting fee.” After a pause IT added, “I failed to deduce that you can read and write.”

Not many could. “My mother taught me.” To take my mind off home, I thought about my salary.

A hundred tins to a copper, fifty coppers to an iron bar, four iron bars to a silver. Many lifetimes before I earned my apprenticeship.

“Lodie, walking is not my preferred mode of travel. Return to the town gate, then follow the high street, Owe Street, west to the end. There is my lair. I will be waiting with your supper.”

“How will I recognize your”—I gulped—“lair?”

“You will. Be alert as you go. When you reach me, tell me what your senses perceived. Mysteries abound in Two Castles. As my assistant, you must learn to notice them.” IT stood on ITs back legs and lifted in two great wing strokes, ITs wing colors muted by the dusk, ITs body in flight powerful and sleek. In a moment IT rose higher than the tallest castle tower, caught a wind, and glided away.

The rain had all but stopped. I pulled my cloak out of my satchel and wrapped it around me.

Mysteries abound. I reviewed the mysteries I had already encountered: the thieving cat; barefoot Master Thiel and his jingling coins; the polite ogre hated by all; no one at the dock to meet Goodwife Celeste and her goodman, who had come to see their children; even Master Dess, who seemed perfect enough to be a whited sepulcher; the dragon willing to hire an unknown girl. An abundance.

Soon I reached the menagerie fence. I ran my fingertips from one upright log to the next, rough to the touch. I smelled wet earth, damp fur, and the rust of raw meat—some animals’ feed, I hoped. My eyes sharpened as the dark deepened.

Again I heard that rising and falling call, which jangled even more eerily in my ears now that it was night. I would have been terrified if not for the protection of the fence. Any animal that escaped its cage would still be contained.

Then my hand encountered air. The gate hung open.

I fled. Although I heard nothing behind me, I didn’t slow for a full five minutes. I was lucky not to slip in the mud. Finally I stopped to quiet my breathing. The open menagerie gate—one more mystery.

In this setting I could truly be Thisbe, out at night to meet my Pyramus, who would look very much like Master Thiel. I could indeed see a bloodied lioness and bolt, leaving behind my veil, if I had a veil.

Torchlight and candlelight twinkled in the town to my right and the castle to my left. Torches flanked the nearby castle gatehouse. The drawbridge was up for the night.

I took the final fork. Below the town’s gate, a figure approached, striding toward me on Daycart Way.