Page 174

Chapter 60

I nearly ruined everything, and now I can’t face her. I am too scared to even go near them, so instead I go to the stables to finish the cradle Dragus had started. Putting another coat of lacquer on it, by the time the sun is up, I am finished just as Peter walks in to tend to the horses. Peter notices me and walks over to see what I am doing.

“Congrats daddio,” he says, smacking my back.

“Thanks,” I tell him though I don’t know much else to say when I can’t even be in the same room as them.

“What’s up?” he asks.

“Nothing, can you grab the other end so we can put it out in the sun to kill the fumes?” Peter nods, walking to the other end and carefully grabbing. I could have carried it but I am worried I would break it if I just picked it up. Dragus has really done a good job on it, it looks amazing, the little mobile is the perfect little touch. I know Elora will love it, I just hope she likes what I did with the ruins that were nearly finished. Though the ruins aren’t just for her, but to represent what I hope the future holds.

Placing it on the tarp out front of the stable door in the sun we set it down so it can dry and air out.

“I saw the ruins the other day, Dakari showed me. Looks great but where are you going to put it? It’s huge?” he asks.

“Where the water fountain is, have to smash it and remove it if you want to help,” I tell him, his face lighting up.

“Yes I have always wanted to break that ugly fountain,” he says, making me chuckle.

“It’s not that ugly,” I tell him, and he scoffs.

“What fountain has gargoyles watching everyone with their beady eyes. It was once pretty, but it’s now decrepit looking.”

“Fair enough,” I tell him, it is ugly.

“You are all good with your hands, the detail is unbelievable,’’ he says, holding the little Dragon figurine gently between his fingers.

“Yeah, well back when I was younger besides kicking stones the only thing to do was whittle,” I tell him.

“Yeah, must suck being as old as dirt,” he replies.

“I’m not that god damn old,” I tell him roughing his hair.

“No, just old enough where you played with rocks and sticks like it was prime entertainment,” he says with a laugh. I like Peter, he’s a good kid. And his father should be proud of the young man he is turning into.

“How is your family?” I ask him.

“Good. Grandma is sick with the flu. I actually need to see Victor if that’s alright later.”

“I actually just saw him; we can go see him now if you want. Cough medicine?” I ask him, and he nods.

“Yeah and antibiotics if he has any. My grandmother was helping mom in the garden. She cut her leg up on some steel. I think it’s infected,” he says.

“Come then we can go see Victor and take the stuff to her,” I tell him.

“No, I can do it later. The walk back home will take forty minutes,” he says.

“Not if we fly,” I tell him, and he suddenly stops. “What you aren’t scared of heights, now are you, Peter?”

“No, more worried you will eat me,” he says

“No, you’re too scrawny, not enough meat on your bones, need to fatten you up before I do that.”

“Should I be worried about all that candy you keep sending me home with?” he wonders as I drape my arm across his shoulder, forcing him to walk to the green houses.

Victor is busily compounding medication when we walk in, no matter how old he gets and how cold it gets he always shows, his dedication to the people and the apprentices he is teaching is admirable.

“Hey Silas, Peter,” he says, acknowledging us as we walk in.