Dew covered the window. Aurelie sat wrapped inside a thin blanket that had been folded on top of one of the couches. Her toes and her cheeks were chilly. She couldn't remember the last time she felt cold.
The window looked out on tall and compact houses. They were bricked and thin, built one next to the other
No wonder Nick ran in that night. She was surprised that an army hadn't come running. The whole street must have wondered who was being murdered in Donahue's house. Yet, no one came knocking on the door to see the dragon.
Nick called her princess so he knew exactly who she was. Though, after she drank fire and grew scales, it wouldn't have taken a genius to guess who she was. Not even in Redayrah. Strangely, he either kept the information or himself or no one gave a damn that she was there.
Busy feet scurried up and down toward the center of the town for work and entertainment. She'd seen four of them in the last ten minutes. The roads were paved and spotless. There was hardly any greenery apart from the occasional flower pot on a balcony or a window. It looked quite gloomy but, at the same time, cozy.
She was still staring out when Nick entered the house with a large, black bag hanging over his shoulder.
"Morning," he said and dropped the bag on the dinner table, pushing books out of the way. "Still no change?" His head flicked toward Kirin.
Aurelie sighed and shook her head. She sat by his side, and whispered into his ear every day, making sure that he knew she was there. He looked sickly and pale, his collarbone was becoming more and more pronounced and his breathing was so shallow that Aurelie had to look at his chest every few minutes to make sure that it still rose and fell.
Donahue didn't help much either, not while she was conscious, at least. She had to pretend she dozed off so that he could pick Kirin up and give him a bath, or whatever he did with him when he carried him away. It didn't look like it was helping, but the Donahues were all shadow walkers, so she somewhat trusted his judgment enough not to take over completely at the risk of him stopping whatever it was that he was doing. This way, at least, Kirin was clean.
"Don't worry," Nick said, removing a few brown paper bags that were darkened with oil. "Peter said that he was going to be fine. No change means that he's not getting worse. So there's that. Here, I brought you some food." He handed her a bag.
"Does he speak to you a lot? I have to look asleep before he comes near Kirin." Aurelie's mouth watered and her stomach twirled with anticipation. That bag had better contain pastries. "I've tried asking him but he won't tell me a damn thing."
"That's because he thinks you've angered the gods. Well, one in particular," Nick said and bent over a chair, picked up Donahue's dirty clothes, and threw it to the far end of the small dining table. "Your scales didn't help."
Aurelie traced her finger over her scales. The hardened surface made her cringe on the spot. Goosebumps rose on her arms and she lifted her fingers. The skin where the scales had come out of had healed by now and stuck itself onto their surface, hardening like sap. At times, Aurelie forgot that they even existed but then her dress would catch on a sharp edge and she'd have to pry the material loose. The creeped her out, to say the least, but by the looks of things, they weren't going anywhere so she just had to deal with them like she dealt with everything elseâmake a fuss, complain and then quiet down and get used to it!
"Does everyone in Redayrah worship them as he does?" Aurelie ripped at the bag. It was hot and hit her with a strong scent of sugary cinnamon. The pastry's thick doe twirled from the center out and dripped with white glaze.
Donahue left her an apple, a handful of nuts, and a glass of water, before leaving the house that morning. She already received a roof over her head and someone who could help Kirin, or at least, that's what she thought he was doing and she had no other help nearby. More she could not ask for from a man who seemed to either hate or fear her, but as grateful as she tried to be, her stomach did not agree.
Nick sat down. "Uhm," he said, pulled his bun out and placed it on top of the bag. "Yes, I suppose some do. We have temples around town, but that's not really why Peter shows such " His eyes widened as he finished his sentence. "Peter thinks that he's cursed."
Aurelie sat up, taking a bite of the cinnamon roll and was left with a rough sugary coat on her lips. "Curse by whom? The gods?"
"A god."
Aurelie took another bite and smiled. "For what?"
"You'll have to ask him. When he started telling me, I laughed, and he refused to share the story with me any further. The man's insane."
"I'm surprised that you ever came back. You scurried out with such speed that I thought you'd leave your toes behind."
Nick laughed and pointed to his mouth. He waited until he finished chewing and spoke, "Never seen scales before." He shrugged. "I told my father and he made me come back. So, I spent a few days creeping around outside your window trying to find the right words."
Aurelie nodded and crossed one leg over the other. "It took you a couple of days to come up with 'Uh', did it?"
Seeing Nick every day seemed normal now. The two of them got on quite well. She had even become used to his strange beauty enough not to stare or stutter when he talked to her. Having him around helped her get her mind off of what happened, off of her aunt, Sasha, Leila and everything else that made her mind travel into deep and dark pits. It sounded selfish to want to take her mind off them but she had become so drained thinking about it that she would spend most of her day sleeping from the mental exhaustion that thinking about what happened caused her.
"I should have come with sweets. That's all you respond to."
"We all make mistakes." Aurelie pulled her mouth to one side in mock disappointment and folded the empty bag until it was too thick to bend again.
"Ah!" Nick rose from his chair and lifted his index finger. "I might not have brought sweets, but I did bring something." He reached into his bag and pulled out a long, purple dress that had more layers than all the clothes that Aurelie ever owned put together.
The dress was far from the fashion that she had been worn outside. With all that she had been through it seemed silly to worry about Nick's taste in clothing and but still, it was so ugly that it felt like it was stinging holes through her eyes. If that was the alternative, she'd rather stay in Peter's old nightshirt.
"What am I supposed to do with that?" Her lips parted in subtle disgust.
"My father is making me take you to the Witching Festival," he said and withdrew a black hat and boots. "My mother offered clothes." Nick shook out the gown and displayed it properly. It had a lacy, purple corset, a lot of underskirts, a revealing neckline and a large black bow on the back.
"I'm getting awfully tired of you being here just because your father made you," Aurelie said, disapprovingly observing both the gown and him. "If you don't want to be here, leave, and if your father ever asks I'll tell him you were here and tried to make me wear that ghastly dress. That'll make everyone happy, won't it?" She was not going to force him to keep her company. He insulted her by even hinting toward it.
"That's not what I meant." Nick hung the dress on the back of a chair and walked closer. "He did tell me to take you, but I wanted to take you anyway. Especially, since I found out that your scales aren't some vicious Highfirien plague." He smiled at her sheepishly. His eyes were more green than blue today, perhaps it was the soft light that caused it. "I'm sorry you thought that's how I meant it. I like spending my time here. I'm sure you know that by now."
"Does he know what they are?" She rose up and bit a fingernail. Her first reaction was to scratch the scales off. Nick had to stop her from trying to cut them off with a bread knife that night. No one had prepared her for what would happen if she suddenly started to be pierced from inside and covered with black, rock-hard scales. As far as she knew, that only happened to actual dragonsâwell, they were born with themâand they were all dead.
"Not a plague," he said. "Speak to Peter." Nick walked toward the door. "I'll wait outside while you change." Aurelie would rather take advice from a fraudulent fortune teller than Peter. She took one more glance at the dress, sighed and bent down onto her knees to sit next to Kirin.
"Wait, Nick, I can't leave him." She looked at Kirin, still unconscious on the couch. Earlier, Aurelie moved him onto his right side to change his position. He was due for another move soon. Whether it helped or not, she wasn't sure, but she'd try a damn rain dance if someone told her it would help.
"Why not?" He looked at her with a genuine question. "Afraid he's going to run away while you frolic in the streets drinking naughty drinks from cauldrons?"
"Don't joke about him being unwell," she said, fighting an unnaturally strong urge to both shout at him and to cry.
Nick's shoulders sunk slightly. "I was only . . . I'm sorry. It won't happen again, I know you've been torturing yourself for the last couple of days because of what he did."
"I'm not torturing myself because of what he did."
"Aurelie," Nick held out an apologetic hand, "I'm not the enemy. If you don't want to go today, that's fine. I just thought that you needed a little bit of a breakâ"
Aurelie widened her eyes and opened her mouth to protest. Nick gave her a sharp look and lifted a finger to put a pause on her speech. "Not from him," he said, "from these four walls. If it'll make you feel better, I'll have a man here looking after him and if anything changes, he'll come call us. I think you need this, Aurelie. I know you care about him, but you'll just end up sitting here while life goes on outside these walls and he'll not know the difference."
"What if he wakes up and I'm not here."
"I want him to, for your sake, I do, but there's been no change at all. How about this, come with me today, have a cauldron and I'll show you the actual witches from the townsfolk and maybe we can find someone who knows how to help him?"
It was dark outside and people were turning on their lanterns. They brought some warm light into the darkened house. People rushed toward the town center in packs. Aurelie couldn't quite make out their wears, but the women did seem to be covered in a lot more layers than usual.
"I'll go."
"Good," he said and clapped his hands together. "I'll go get someone to watch him while you get dressed."
He left looking quite happy with himself. Aurelie waited for the door to close and came to sit by Kirin's side. She took his hand in hers and kissed it, closing her eyes.
"You really need to wake up," she whispered. "I have scales now, and we're in Redayrah. Remember you wanted to show me where that tree was that you like so much, the one with the fireflies?" Aurelie caressed his cheek and rested her head next to his shoulder. "What if I accidentally walk past it without you? Just . . . I love you. Come back."
Aurelie stood up and grabbed the dress, heading upstairs to find a room with a mirror. Peter had none, not even in his bedroom. The only thing he had in there was a trunk filled with clothes, and a bed with dusty, faded, blue sheets. She struggled into the dress, getting lost between the layers of the skirt more than once, and tamed her wild locks under the pointy hat. The shoes were too large and she had to curl her toes to keep them from slipping.
Aurelie left the room and noticed a rim of orange light coming through a wall at the end of the passage. It was a door covered in green striped wallpaper like the rest of the house and had no handle. Aurelie pushed her nails into the gaps and tried to pry it open.
The front door creaked and Aurelie jumped away.
"I'm back!" Nick called from below.
"On my way," she called and hurried down the steps. "Sorry." Aurelie slipped out the door past him and smiled.