Sage scanned the next house, a farmhouse with various tools scattered outside. She inspected them. A pitchfork, an axe, a plow. Perhaps there was a dragon etched into one of the instruments. Sage scowled. That wouldn’t make sense. It would have to be something that couldn’t be moved, that would stand the test of time like that old wagon. Again, uncertainty plagued her, but she brushed it aside. Her eyes shifted to the wheel sign on the shop. Even the signs weren’t permanent enough. She sighed softly. Maybe whatever they were looking for was gone, blown away by a windstorm, or…
She glanced at Raven, who was sitting atop her brown horse. She had stopped in the middle of the road and was murmuring something to Landyn, her expression stern. Sage could feel the doubt radiating from them, prickling the skin at the back of her neck. She swallowed with a dry throat. She had to prove them wrong—find the dragon—prove that she had translated the book correctly.
Willow beamed as she watched a little girl with stringy brown hair dance from foot to foot. Willow smiled as the girl chattered away.
Sage closed her eyes in irritation. What was Willow thinking, playing with a child when they were supposed to be searching for a dragon? She gazed over the fields. Was the dragon hidden behind the trees?
The little girl squealed and grabbed Willow’s hand, pulling her excitedly back to the apothecary. She pointed to one of the plants about two feet high that looked like a leafy weed.
Sage clenched her jaw in frustration as she watched Willow wasting time with the child instead of helping them find the dragon. Willow should be looking, too—Sage needed all the help she could get. Sage grimaced. She shouldn’t expect more from her sister. This was who Willow was, and Sage knew it. Still, aggravation burned in her chest. “Will, you should take this more seriously.”
Willow turned to Sage with a strange smile on her lips and a glow in her eyes. She placed a fond hand on the girl’s head. “Clarissa told me that this plant is the—” She looked at the girl for clarification.
“Arisaema dracontium,” the girl proclaimed proudly.
Willow lifted an eyebrow at Sage. “The green dragon.”
Chapter Eleven
“Oh yes,” the woman who ran the apothecary shopsaid excitedly, her bright blue eyes widening and her long brown hair bouncing. “It comes back every year. It has red berries but don’t eat them.” She chuckled to herself. “No. Don’t eat them.”
“Where did you get them?” Raven asked, staring down at the plants lining the side of the shop.
“They were here when I was little.” She shrugged. “They’ve always been here.”
Marcus stood near the edge of the road, arms crossed as he watched Willow, Christian, and Raven chat with the woman outside the shop. Her voice was too loud, her words about some plant he wasn’t interested in. The child had dropped to her hands and knees, chasing a small frog around a patch of grass. He felt a sharp pain deep in his chest as he imagined his daughter, Rose, running after a frog and him not being there to witness it.
Sage joined him with the parchment paper gripped in her hand.
Marcus hastily banished the thoughts of his young daughter and faced Sage. “What’s the next part?”
Sage studied him, concern clouding her features. “Are you well?”
Marcus flicked his gaze over the child and gave a terse nod, his lips a thin line.
Sage followed his stare before searching his expression with a compassionate gaze. “Rose?”
Marcus’s head hung heavy with remorse; only Sage knew the true weight of his sorrow. She wove her fingers through his, the heat of her skin radiating into his own to bring him an ounce of comfort. With a tender touch, she kissed his cheek, and he felt the anguish begin to ebb.
Marcus inhaled deeply and turned his attention to the parchment. This wasn’t going to be easy, he knew. If it weren’t for the child and her knowledge of the plants, they would have passed right by the dragon. But Sage had been right in her decoding. He held her gaze, the corners of his eyes crinkling with emotion. His voice was thick and filled with love. “I’m proud of you.”
Sage scoffed. “Don’t be proud yet. We still have to follow the dragon to the top of the hill.” She lifted her gaze to scan the horizon. “There are small hills all over.”
“There must be more dragon plants.”
Sage carefully folded the parchment and slipped it into her boot. She and Marcus joined her sisters.
“Not my most valuable plant,” the woman was explaining.
“Are there any more green dragon plants?” Sage asked.
“There are some in the forest,” the girl said, picking up the frog and bringing it to them.
The woman grinned and ran a hand along the girl’s dark head. “She’s right.” The woman pointed toward a thick group of trees. “Near the pond.”
“It’s muddy there, but the frogs like it,” the girl said, cradling the frog in her cupped hands.
Landyn joined the group and issued a dire warning, “We have to go.” He jerked his head back toward the town.
