Chapter One
Early June 1814
Anne glanced right and left down the long hallway tiled in black and white marble squares, the portraits of long forgotten ancestors staring down—disapproving, for they disapproved of everything—upon her. Yes! No sign of Father or Elizabeth, only Mrs. Trent, the sturdy, grizzled housekeeper, trundling the recently delivered post toward the parlor. Anne hurried to intercept, glancing first at the letters in Mrs. Trent’s hands, then cocking her head. Best not make a sound lest she be discovered. Father and Elizabeth were always the most demanding when she had other plans.
Mrs. Trent nodded and handed her several thick missives from the bottom of the stack. Excellent! One, sealed with blue wax—and it was the one she was waiting for! She clasped the letters to her chest and hurried outside in the opposite direction of the parlor. Though Father and Elizabeth rarely cared for any news that might come by way of Anne, still it would be better to read her mail alone, especially when the thickest message bore the Blue Order’s seal.
The pale green muslin skirts of her day dress swished against her ankles as she darted out of the kitchen door. Yes, it was a bad habit, using the staff’s doorways, and it left her smelling like the kitchen. But was it really so bad to smell a bit like baking bread whilst obtaining her freedom? Cook did not even raise an eyebrow at her comings and goings anymore.
Light, bright, and sunny, everything a summer’s day should be! A soft, warm breeze kissed her face with the fragrance of peonies and roses—so thick and lovely she could almost taste them weaving together in the sunshine. Her favorite bench in the garden called her, the filigreed iron one, painted white and placed in the middle of the flowerbeds so that Mama could comfortably watch the antics of the local fairy dragon harem. The tiny dragons frequented the lavishly blooming flower beds, especially on days like this when the sun was warm and brilliant and the wind was calm, allowing the garden air to fill with sweet perfume. Mother had liked this place for excellent reasons.
Anne sat down and set aside the first letter. Given the handwriting on the direction, it was no doubt a demand for payment by the wine merchant. That should have gone to Elizabeth or Father since Anne had no authorization to make such payments. Perhaps Mrs. Trent thought Anne might actually manage to see a remittance was made. She was after all quite the optimist.
Good thing she bore disappointment graciously. Anne cracked the flour and water seal on her other letter lest she forget about it in the almost certain flurry the Blue Order’s news would bring.
“What are you doing?” A bright pink fairy dragon, Peony, circled, her wings buzzing low over Anne’s head.
“I am reading my letters.” She shaded her eyes and peered into the sky. “Where are your friends today? You are not usually alone.”
“The others are mad at me. Wren-Catcher caught me in a mating flight yesterday.” Peony, the lead female of the harem, warbled a self-satisfied little sound.
Anne blushed—dragons lacked discretion, but it was their way, at least according to Lady Russell, and they ought not be rebuked for it.
Peony landed on the back of the bench and peered at the letters, her head cocked so far it nearly turned upside down. Silly little creature. “Why do you sit there staring at those papers? They do not look good to eat.”
“No, one does not eat letters. They bear news of distant friends and acquaintances.”
“What sort of news? What a strange way to carry news. That is what fairy dragons do, you know.”
“You are the post of the dragon world?” Anne chuckled. This was not the first time they had this conversation, but the shatter-brained little flitter-bit never seemed to remember it.
“If that means we spread important news, yes, that is what we do. Why else would even the grumpiest of major dragons tolerate us in their territory? We have our value as more than a snack you may be certain.” Peony looked so proud. She puffed her chest and raised her beaky snout. It would not do to tell her just how reliable fairy dragon carried news was generally considered. “What news have you? I can share it if you like.”
“I will need to read it first before I can know. Can you wait that long?” Anne scratched under Peony’s chin.
“Be quick about it.” She stretched and turned her head to direct Anne’s ministrations behind her left ear.
Continuing her scratching, Anne scanned Mrs. Smith’s letter. “Well, that was interesting. Who would have expected news of interest to Father in this letter?”
“Do tell, do tell!” Peony hopped and cheeped.
“This one is from a friend. It contains some sad news.”
“Sad?” Peony fluttered in a downward spiral until she landed on sandy ground in front of the bench and looked up at Anne. “What is sad to a warm-blood?”
The addlepated little creature probably just wanted to mock her. Fairy dragons could be like that, but it was difficult to resist answering a direct question. “Death and loss are sad. My friend tells me she still feels the consequence of her husband’s—mate’s—death at harvest time last year. According to her, our cousin, who did business with her husband, lost his mate at the end of winter. And it seems his business is not doing well either. Those are sad things.”
“Why do you bother with letters when they only bring you sad things?” Peony cocked her head this way and that as though thinking made her head hurt.
“It is not all sadness. She finds herself in Bath, in a comfortable establishment, with good company. Those are all good things. As is this.” Anne held up a thick, as yet unopened missive, her heart beating a little faster. “This is a letter, a very long one, from the Dragon Sage herself, telling me more about you and your kind. I count that as very good news indeed.”
Peony flipped her wings. “Why do you need a letter when you can ask us directly? Warm-bloods!” Snorting, she launched herself into the sky and flittered away.
Shatter-brained, definitely shatter-brained.
Anne stood and hugged the letter to her chest.
The Dragon Sage, Lady Elizabeth Darcy, had actually written back to her! No, it should not have been surprising. As Anne understood, it was the Dragon Sage’s role to answer such missives as hers. But having only been to the Blue Order once—to be presented and accepted by them shortly after she began to hear dragons—it seemed more likely that they would forget her than try to assist.
At first, they had answered her letters promptly and with some attention to detail. But over time, the letters grew shorter and less addressed toward her questions, taking longer and longer to arrive, until they finally stopped. Lady Russell thought it proof the Blue Order was just a matter of pomp and circumstance, not a serious force to be reckoned with. But a few comments in the last letters Father had received from them—pro forma reports that went out regularly to all Dragon Keepers—seemed to suggest there were some serious matters afoot, matters more urgent than the needs of a slumbering dragon. So, perhaps the neglect was not a personal affront, but an oversight from an overworked, overwrought office.
It was still possible that the letter contained a reproach for daring to address the Dragon Sage directly and without invitation, but it was unlikely a missive of that length was required for a simple rebuke.
Lady Russell would want to see the Sage’s letter for herself. She had insisted a reply would never come. Best get to Kellynch Cottage before some other “urgent” matter arose.
Anne hurried down the shady, hardwood-lined footpath to the flower garden behind Kellynch Cottage. Lady Russell often enjoyed the afternoon sunshine in the midst of the fragrant, exotic blossoms she raised there. “Lady Russell? Lady Russell?”
The regal—yes that was the word for her when she stood in repose amidst her prize possessions—cockatrix posed under a white wooden arbor lined with white and pink climbing roses in full bloom, standing on one leg—her thinking posture—with her head tucked up under her wing. She could—and should be mistaken for a large blue garden statue by those who did not hear dragons. If seen by those who could hear … oh the secrets that had to be kept.
Anne pressed a hand to her ribs. Best not think about that now. One crisis at a time.
“Anne?” Lady Russell pulled her head from under her wing. Her plumed crest of variegated blue, yellow and green feathers sprung up to its full glory. The feathers resembled peacock feathers, without the distinct “eyes.” How many ladies would envy such a headdress to accompany their evening wear?
More to point, how many ladies did, unaware that they were being convinced those feathers were part of a turban worn by a fine lady, not perched on the head of a dragon. Anne pressed her eyes with thumb and forefinger. Even after five years, this was all still very strange.
“I have a letter from the Dragon Sage.” Anne waved the still sealed missive in Lady Russell’s view.
She snorted and shook her head, head feathers flopping to and fro. “I am sure it is merely to rebuke you for your cheek. I do not see why you bother with that slip of a girl.”
“As I understand, she is just a few years younger than myself, hardly a slip of a girl.” Or so Father was wont to remind her. “Besides, you were the one who mentioned that it was approaching fifty years that Kellynch had been sleeping, and he should awaken very soon.”
“I have known Kellynch longer than she has been alive. I do not see why you needed to consult her, or anyone else on the matter.” Lady Russell stepped high and long through the rose beds to stand on the path beside Anne, bringing the sweet scent of roses with her.
“Have you ever dealt with a dragon awakening from hibernation?”
“No, but neither has she. I am certain of it. Besides, I am a dragon. That should count for a very great deal.” Lady Russell stomped her long-toed, clawed feet, kicking up dust.
“I am sure it does. But have you not told me that you are as different to Kellynch as I am to a horse?” Anne folded her arms across her chest, tucking the letter under her left arm.
Lady Russell snorted.
“What is more, you have said that your kind do not hibernate. So how would you know anything about hibernation?”
“But I am a dragon.” Lady Russell bobbed her head back and forth, up and down, as though that proved her point.
“One with no experience of hibernating nor being awakened from such a state.”
“What can an inexperienced girl contribute to this situation that I cannot? Truly, I should be offended by your lack of faith in me. Have I not been your teacher, your mentor in all dragon matters since the day you first heard dragons?” Lady Russell ruffled her full, fluffy wings, throwing up enough breeze to set the flowers around her to rustling.
“Indeed, you have, and for that I am very grateful. I know you have taught me from your wealth of knowledge everything you thought I ought to know.” Anne smiled sweetly and bit her tongue. Best not mention that much of Lady Russell’s wisdom frequently contradicted the official lore of the Blue Order, and there was a very great deal that Lady Russell failed to mention at all.
“Since you seem so determined, do read to me what this Sage has to say. But do not be surprised when I tell you how wrong she is.” Perhaps Anne should have read the letter in private first and only shared carefully considered parts with Lady Russell. Ah well, too late for such ideas now.
Lady Russell picked her way through the flowerbeds, toward a low, wooden garden bench on the border of the sunshine and shade, her high steps exaggerated by her extremely long legs. She perched on the left side of the bench, sitting like a hen on her nest. Anne held her breath and pressed her lips hard. Lady Russell did not like being laughed at or told she resembled a character from a panto.
Anne wove her way down the path, sat beside Lady Russell and cracked the seal on the letter.
Dear Miss Elliot,
Let me begin my telling you how glad I was to receive your letter. It truly is my pleasure to assist wherever I can in smoothing relations between Dragon Mates. I have tried to answer as many of your questions as possible, but I am certain the answers will leave you with even more questions. Pray do not hesitate to ask them in your next letter, which I expect, dare I say insist, you will write to me very soon. I look forward to enjoying an active conversation with you. I hope you do not think me too forward to say I am fascinated by the circumstances of Kellynch and consider it my privilege to be invited to assist in these matters.
Gracious! That sounded nothing like the correspondence Anne had previously received from the Order. The Sage almost sounded like a friend!
“So, what does it say?” Lady Russell snorted, ruffling the paper just a bit.
“Lady Elizabeth begins with the usual greetings and salutations; nothing you would wish to hear.”
Lady Russell rolled her dark glittering eyes and fluffed her wings. Such a temper she was in!
Anne pointed to several lines near the top of the page. “Here, she addresses the matter directly. She says no Keeper alive in England today has ever assisted with a dragon awakening.”
“You see, I told you, she knows nothing.” Lady Russell pecked at the paper.
Anne jerked it away just in time to keep it from being torn by Lady Russell’s sharp beak. “She says she would come herself to assist us, but—and she does not say it directly, but I infer—that she is in a delicate condition and not able to make such a journey.”
“That is a very good thing indeed. I have no desire to have such a person poking her nose into our affairs where it does not belong.”
“I understand the need for secrecy and discretion here, but truly, she is the Dragon Sage. How could her visit be of any difficulty to us?”
Lady Russell hissed—she actually hissed!—and whipped her head around to glower directly into Anne’s eyes. “What does it matter? You said yourself she is not able to travel, so it is a moot point. Has she anything useful to say?”
Anne edged back, eyes watering from Lady Russell’s potent breath. Perhaps she should recommend some mint leaves to chew. “This is encouraging, she says she has searched the annals of dragon lore and found several accounts of slumbering dragons awakening.”
“She has, has she? I am so pleased for her.”
“You need not sit here and listen.” Anne stood and sighed. “You asked me to read it to you, but if it upsets you, then I shall take my letter and return home to read it far more conveniently.”
Lady Russell blocked Anne’s way. “No, no, I would rather know what sort of advice you are getting and trying to follow. Better that I stop you from doing something foolish before you begin.”
Anne clutched her forehead and turned her back. “Such faith you have in me!”
“Anne, my dear. You know I have only the best in mind for you. You must know that. How can you expect me to trust a girl I have never even met to give you good advice?” Lady Russell leaned over Anne’s shoulder.
“I suppose the faith the Blue Order places in her might be some indication.”
“Enough of your cheek. Just read the letter.”
Anne returned to the bench and spread the letter over her lap. “Very well. She says that while there are differences by species, there are some commonalities among them. She says they awaken slowly, by stages and may not be fully awake for several days or even a se’nnight or more.”
Lady Russell huffed and sneered—a difficult expression to achieve with a beak. “I am certain she is quite wrong about that. Perhaps Kellynch is of a species this Sage knows little about.”
“She also says that dragons wake up cranky—very cranky—and one should be very careful not to provoke a cranky dragon as they might be apt to act without thinking.”
Lady Russell muttered under her breath, but it sounded like, “Well at least that is sensible.”
“…and hungry. Dragons awaken very hungry. She likens it to hatching hunger—which, by the way, you have never mentioned to me.”
“New babies are hungry—what is there special in that?”
“Perhaps the amount such a baby might eat. In any case, the letter says that for a waking dragon like Kellynch, we must be prepared with a daily sheep, perhaps even two, for at least a fortnight.”
“I am certain that is utterly excessive. Even so, what problem is that? There is plenty of mutton afoot.”
Anne looked into the sky and huffed. “I think the shepherds might find it a bit unusual to find so many sheep going missing at once. At the very least it is something I can prepare for.”
Lady Russell pawed at the loamy ground. “Anyone with common sense might have come to the same conclusion. You did not need a sage to tell you that.”
“Had I known about hatching hunger, perhaps,” Anne muttered under her breath.
The Sage went on to say the hunger would depend on how the dragon had prepared for it before hibernation, something Lady Russell had never mentioned. Probably not the best time to mention it. “This, this is interesting.” Anne held the letter a little closer to her face. “She says that once the hunger for food is sated, if the dragon is a hoarding type then the hoarding hunger must be dealt with. You have never spoken to me about hoarding.”
“What is there to say? Some dragons like to collect things. Those who do, like it a very great deal.”
“Is Kellynch such a dragon?”
“I … I … how would I know?” Lady Russell flapped and stepped back.
“She says I should consult the Blue Order Charter to determine if he is a hoarder and what the provisions of the hoard might be. But I have been searching for it since Mr. Elliot asked about it years ago. I have been able to turn up nothing of the charter, so we have little remedy there. You are his Watcher—why do you not know such a thing about Kellynch?”
“You are impertinent today!” Lady Russell snapped her beak hard.
Anne jumped back. “And you have not taught me all I need to know! Why is it so much of what you have taught me disagrees with the writings of the Blue Order?”
“Because I am a dragon, and I know better! What could they possibly know?”
“A very great deal of very important things it would seem.” Anne bit her tongue hard. Reminding Lady Russell that a great number of the Blue Order members were dragons would only make her lose her temper.
Lady Russell glowered at the letter, her expression shifting as she stared into Anne’s eyes.
This was not the first time she had tried to intimidate Anne into silence, but today it would not work.
Finally, she squawked and flapped, pecking at the letter. Anne yanked it away.
“Impertinent, headstrong girl. How dare that ridiculous sage meddle in what she does not understand.” Lady Russell took several steps back, a shudder working down from her crest to her tail. “What does she know? Do not bother yourself with that … that woman. Concern yourself with dealing with the matters at hand. That is what is important right now.”
“As you say.” Anne folded the letter and stood. Lady Russell reached for the letter with her beak, but Anne pulled it away. “No, I will keep it. There are some details about the care Kellynch might require when he awakes that I will need to refer to.” Not to mention there were many pages she had not yet read.
Lady Russell grumbled under her breath—a sound very like a growl, but she relented and stalked away.
Very odd behavior for her, but Lady Russell did tend to be temperamental.