“I find it astonishing myself, that I actually came to England yet another time,” he teased. “I thought this would be a very quick trip, merely collecting Rowan at the Nest before returning home, but apparently the Eldest is not quite ready to send him off yet. So I have the delightful opportunity to visit my friends, and to deliver this in person.” He held out a paper-wrapped parcel.
“How kind of you.” She took the package - a book, by its weight - and untied the string. Was it from Roderick, the Welsh Nest, or one of her relatives in Wales? Perhaps the contents would tell her.
Folding back the paper revealed a simple leather-bound book. There was no title embossed on the spine, which was left blank like a commonplace book. Indeed, it proved to be handwritten. “The Journal of Iorweth, called the Bold,” she read aloud. Iorweth the Bold, companion to Taliesen the Seer, who had been grandsire to her own Cerridwen. Iorweth had opened the first - and last - Gates. Excitement coursed through her veins. “Where did you find this?”
“The original, in medieval Welsh, is in the archives at the Gwynedd Nest. They let me take it to make a translation for you.”
“Youdid this? Thank you so much!” She pressed the book to her chest with delight. “I cannot wait to see what treasures it holds.” This could hold the answers about her mysterious Forbidden Talent – and how to open Gates!
“It is interesting reading,” he said. “He goes off on tangents, especially regarding old stories, but I think you will find much of it useful.”
“I cannot think of anything that would make me happier. I have felt so lost, with no one to speak to...” She stopped. No one could know she was working on Gate-opening. “...about what it is like to be companion to a Seer.”
“There are some interesting parallels. His other mage skills, like yours, were not strong, and he theorized that his Talent focused on the foundations rather than the actual matter of the world. He mentions other ways to work with the foundations. Unfortunately, he had his last journal with him when he died, so there is nothing about that final Gate, the one that led to disaster.”
“That is a pity, but still, this is a treasure. I am very grateful.”
He hesitated. “I also asked the older dragons about the prophesied one. They, like the Dark Peak Eldest, knew only of the prophecy about Ysmeina the Fair, the one which never came true. But they told me one new detail - that Ysmeina lived near the Dark Peak Nest, and she met with the dragons there more than once. And that the Dark Peak dragons know where Ysmeina's Cuff lies.”
“Ysmeina's Cuff?” she asked.
“Ah, you do not know the tale of Ysmeina the Fair? Her cuff is a Great Artifact, made by the Wicked King with his own hands out of deepest love, or at least deepest obsession. She was afraid of him, since his power was so much greater than her own, so he made her a tool to address that. She could use it to bind any fae, even the Wicked King himself. Or so the story goes. She accepted the gift, but eventually rejected him.”
Elizabeth stroked the book cover, anxious to start it, but something in his words niggled at her. “Could Ysmeina's Cuff bind a dragon?”
“It is thought so, which is why the Dark Peak Nest sent many people to hunt for it. Apparently Ysmeina left it well-hidden, though, for none have succeeded.”
Nearby, and never found. Cerridwen had been talking of wanting to go on an adventure with her, like they had back in Hertfordshire, and what could be better than a quest for a missing Artifact that could be a weapon against Napoleon and the Wicked King? They would never find it, of course, if no one else had managed it in all these centuries, but the hunt itself would raise her poor dragon’s spirits. She smiled to herself. “Where can I find out more about Ysmeina and her Cuff?”
“You could ask at the Nest. The older dragons should know,” Roderick said. “Iorweth mentions Ysmeina in his writings, too. She had died only a century or so before he wrote, and he was still waiting for the prophecy to come true.”
Frederica asked eagerly, “What was the prophecy, though?”
“We do not know exactly, but it is said the blood of his love would cause the Wicked King's death. When she died, some assumed it meant her children, yet the Wicked King still lives. Or perhaps it was meant metaphorically, that it was the death of his heart and capacity for love. In any case, nothing happened.”
Which was a terrible pity, as far as Elizabeth was concerned. Having enemies on two fronts was not pleasant. But the book had made her forget her manners. “Will you not sit down? I will send for some refreshments and ask for your room to be prepared.”
“Already done,” Frederica said with a grin. “That is what comes of leaving me in charge here all that time.”
Chapter 20
Elizabethheldoutaplatter with plum cake to Cerridwen, whom she had been waiting all day to see. “What have you been doing?”
Cerridwen all but snatched the plum cake from her and devoured half of it in a single bite. “I wish Cook would make bigger cakes.”
Elizabeth hid a smile. “Perhaps if you made her a larger pan, she could do so. But not so big that it cannot fit in the oven.” She suspected Cerridwen could happily eat a plum cake as big as the kitchen hearth itself.
She knew better than to offer any to Quickthorn or Coquelicot. Cerridwen was unusual among dragons in having a taste for mortal foods, no doubt from spending so many years away from her Nest.
Cerridwen's gold-ringed eyes brightened. “I could do that. When I am not so tired.” She yawned. “Rana Akshaya had us working on the new Nest all day.”
So Rana Akshaya was wasting no time in founding her own Nest, given the high stakes. Elizabeth was careful not to show too much interest - or worse, enthusiasm. Dragons did not care for curiosity about their lives. “I did not realize she had chosen a location already.”
An image of a cliff face flashed into her head, sent by Cerridwen. Kympton Edge, if Elizabeth was not mistaken, with the village off in the distance. “Not at Pemberley?”
“The Dark Peak Eldest said it could not be too close to their nursery. Rana Akshaya thinks this is a better site, anyway.”
“It seems a good choice,” Elizabeth said. Any choice that did not involve locating the new Nest in the Pemberley state rooms was a brilliant one as far as she was concerned. She was happy to have Cerridwen here, but Rana Akshaya had taken over the state drawing room on her arrival, and her entourage had expanded into the other state rooms. Elizabeth was more than ready to reclaim that large portion of her house.
