A Tale of Two Castles(19)

IT put down ITs skewer and waddled to the trapdoor. “Follow me, Lodie.” IT pulled the door open.

I didn’t move. Did IT plan to kill me before I could write to Mother and Father?





Chapter Eleven

From halfway in, IT swiveled ITs neck and grinned back at me before disappearing down the stairs.

I stood at the top and saw a light spark on far below. The glow brightened. IT was lighting torches.

“Come!”

The stairs were stone blocks wedged into the earth. Follow IT or leave ITs service.

IT could have murdered me last night. I stepped cautiously and continued downward into a chamber almost as high and big as the one above, empty but for three large baskets beneath a table and four stacks of books on top, a fortune in books. I had never seen so many gathered together.

IT stood on the far side of the table. I approached, curious about the books but most eager to see inside the baskets.

They brimmed with coins, mostly tins but also coppers, several iron bars, and a sprinkling of silvers. I had never seen a silver before. The coin turned out to be smaller than a copper, much smaller than a tin, no bigger than one of my teeth, such a little thing to be worth a year of an apprentice’s labor.

I wondered if the baskets held coins to the bottom or were only a layer hiding something else underneath.

“In a century of industry and thrift, a dragon can amass wealth.” IT pulled out the baskets and thrust a claw into one after another, churning up the contents. Coins spilled onto the floor. “No bones of bygone assistants.”

I blushed.

IT sat back and rested a claw on a stack of books. ITs smoke turned gray; ITs eyes paled. In a dire and doleful voice, IT said, “I cannot read.”

I didn’t know how to soften ITs sorrow. I ventured, “Few people can.”

IT snapped, “Is that supposed to comfort me?”

I tried again. “Your vocabulary is big.”

“And varied and excellent. I astound my hearers with the erudition of my speech.” IT opened the top book to the middle and passed a claw across the page. “But I cannot decipher the merest word.” IT took the book.

I followed ITs tail back up to the lair, where IT set the book on the bench by the fireplace.

“Nothing read, nothing learned. We will not starve if we have a holiday. Read to me, Lodie.”

IT had said I could write to my family, but I didn’t want to remind IT. I lifted the book onto my lap. Lambs and calves, it was heavy, both thick and wide, covered in bumpy orange-brown leather that reminded me of ITs scales.

IT stretched out with ITs long head at my feet. ITs smoke rose in spirals. I wondered what spiraling smoke meant.

“Begin.”

I opened to the first page. “Masteress Meenore, this is a book about vegetable gardening.”

“Mmm. Proceed.”

I thumbed through. Each chapter described planting, tending, and harvesting a different vegetable. On the first page an enormous A in gold lettering was followed by corn squash in smaller black letters. In the corner of the page, with a border of gold dots, was a drawing in green and black ink of an acorn squash.

“Is the gold real?”

“Read.”

I began. ITs eyes never left my face. If my mouth hadn’t been moving, I would soon have been asleep. IT didn’t object when I practiced my Two Castles accent, but IT wouldn’t let me mansion a cabbage into tragedy or a carrot into comedy.

“Read as the farmer’s daughter you are.”

If I hadn’t been a mansioner as well as a farmer’s daughter, my throat would have given out. As it was, I finally had to interrupt myself. “Masteress, I need to drink.”

IT accompanied me out to the rainwater vats. I carried a tumbler, and IT held a bowl and the ladle. The changeable Lepai weather had brought more rain, but by now no clouds remained. The air smelled of sweet grass and fallen leaves.

IT lapped ITs water with ITs tongue, as a cat does. When we finished, IT led me back inside. I told myself how interesting endives would be.

But instead IT said we would eat our midday meal. Perhaps in honor of the book, IT roasted the orange squash to have with our skewers.

“Masteress?” I asked over spoonfuls of squash. “Will you plant a garden in the spring?”

“I have no land for a garden.” Then IT gave me leave to visit the scribe when I finished eating. “Thirty tins. Do not let any cats get my coins.”

I counted out the tins while IT watched me narrowly. When I had enough, I spilled them into my purse, tucked the purse under my apron, and touched the spot.

“Do not touch! You are signaling thieves.”


I pulled my hand away as though my apron were on fire. What a bumpkin I’d been.

“While you are out, observe and listen. Smell the air. All your senses are in my employ, Lodie.”

On Lair Lane, a shutter slammed shut. A cat cleaned itself in a doorway. I spied four cats. It occurred to me that Two Castles might have not a single mouse.

Roo Street was busier than quiet Lair Lane. At a weaver’s stall a man turned over lengths of cloth. I tried out the Two Castles accent I’d just practiced for hours and he simply directed me to a scribe’s stall. I skipped across Roo onto Trist Street.

Ahead, outside a jeweler’s stall, Goodwife Celeste held a silver bracelet close to her eyes while the jeweler pounded his fist into his palm and disputed with her husband, Goodman Twah.