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Smug, Owein relaxed. “Now, we’re getting somewhere. You could be a goddess, though I know of no story that tells of one flying on a dragon.”
“Anything else?” I yawned, not impressed with the goddess angle.
“A Gwyll. But I destroyed that theory with my knife.” He brandished the knife before shoving it back into his boot. “You’re much too pretty to be mistaken for one of those elfish hags anyway.”
“A Gwyll? What’s that? What does a knife have to do with it?”
“The folk headed to the festival thought you were here to trick them, to entice them far enough into the woods until they became lost. Those Gwyllion cause a lot of problems during the festivals, with poor souls wandering for the week and missing the event. I said it didn’t make sense that you were flying on that beast. You couldn’t be one of those. Gwyllion are repelled by metal, so I pulled my knife out as a test.”
“That’s an interesting story. What of my dragon here?”
“A Ceffyl Dwr. A shape-shifting water horse that flies. That could be true.”
My dragon peered closely at Owein, challenging him. “I don’t change shape.”
I folded my hands in my lap. “Seren, sit, my love. I don’t think Owein means us harm. And you don’t intend to harm him, do you?”
Seren dropped on her haunches. “Perhaps not.”
Owein seemed satisfied, so he continued our conversation. “Thankfully, the villagers didn’t see your friend puffing her fire, or they’d be in an uproar.”
“So who saw us, then?”
“My partner and I and the caravan we’re traveling with.”
“Why’re they not here with you?” I chucked the apple core into the woods.
“I convinced them it was safer not to mess in affairs we know nothing about.”
“Yet here you are. So audacious.”
“As I told you, I’m curious. My reasons for being here are very apparent or you’d have cause for more concern, but you haven’t revealed your motives. Didn’t one of my stories satisfy you enough to share your secrets with me?”
I liked the fellow. He had a clever way with words. “I don’t think I should tell. You haven’t earned my trust yet.”
He hasn’t earned my trust yet, Seren said.
There’s no need to worry.
“I’m nothing but trustworthy,” Owein said. “I’ve come out of concern for your welfare. It distresses me to see a young woman traveling on her own, that is, without human companionship. Not that I don’t trust your dragon to keep you safe. The roads are dangerous. Some men prey on young women. My companion, Arnall, and I are headed to the festival to sell the furs we’ve accumulated from our trappings. The harvest festival is the best opportunity to make a profit before the long, cold winter begins in the highlands. It’s an arduous journey from the lowlands, so I’ve teamed up with others making the same trip. In the nature of a gentleman, I wanted to see if you’d accompany us.”
“Sounds interesting. Though you do realize I could fly on my dragon.”
“Aye, you could, but you’d miss the camaraderie. If you’re some otherworldly creature…” Owein paused to carefully calculate his next words. “Ah, a woodland nymph, perhaps?”
I still wasn’t revealing my identity.
Owein stared me down, but my expression remained impassive. “Not even a little hint?”
I gave the slightest headshake.
Owein grinned. “Fine. As I was saying, if you’re not from this place, I’d think you’d enjoy the chance to rub elbows with humans.”
“Why would you even think I’m not from this place?”
“Your dragon referred to me as mortal.”
I laughed. “You’re as observant as you are persistent. Who says mortals are the only ones who dwell on this plane?”
