Page 27 of Demon of the Dead


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The boy stood upright in the seat of his chair, one hand gripping the back of it, the other smacking against his own chest. “I’m Bo.”

“All right. Good for you.”

“This is Ivar.” He pointed to the blond boy, who’d flushed with obvious embarrassment.

“Bo, he doesn’t care,” he hissed.

“He’s a bastard,” Bo continued.

“Bo!”

“Just like Lord Oliver. I ‘spose that means he might become a lord, too.”

“Only if he becomes a king’s consort,” Náli said, flatly. “Now, if you’ll–”

“You’ve a dragon, don’t you?” Bo interrupted.

Gods, but Náli didn’t like children.

“No. I don’t.”

“But I’ve seen it! The little one! He follows you around just like a hunting dog.”

“Yes, well, that’s his mistake. Those are Oliver’s dragons. You should ask him about them – or Lady Tessa.”

“But I saw it following you.”

He looked to the blond boy – Ivar – for assistance. “Is he always like this.”

“Yes. I’m sorry.”

“Bo,” a new voice said from the doorway. “Are you harassing Lord Náli?”

“Yes. He most certainly is.”

Oliver entered the library already put together for the day, dressed in fine velvets with his hair neatly braided and beaded. He bore dark circles under his eyes, though: evidence of long days and short nights.

“No,” Bo wheedled, pouting. “He’s lying about his dragon.”

Oliver sent Náli an amused look. “Is he, now?”

“I don’t have a dragon.”

“Mmhm. Yes, I see, well. Probably best not to harass him anyway.” Oliver leaned forward and dropped his voice to a conspiratorial stage whisper. “He might put an enchantment on you.”

“Yes,” Náli agreed, grinning, as both boys jerked around to stare at him. “I might.”

Bo considered this a long moment – and then his nose scrunched up. “No, he won’t. He’d get in trouble with my mum.”

Oliver hid a smile behind his hand, shoulders silently shaking.

Náli sneered at the brat. “I’m here to do research, not to entertain the likes of you. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” He turned his back on them, and strode across the library.

“What are you boys doing in the stacks this early?” he heard Oliver ask. Not that he cared – he certainly didn’t. But they were talking loudly enough that he couldn’t ignore them.

“We couldn’t sleep,” Ivar said. “And Bo wanted to know more about the dragons, and you were still abed, my lord, and Lord Náli and Lady Tessa, as well, so we came to look through the books, instead.”

Náli rounded a corner and found the – regrettably small – section he was after. His belly twisted with guilt, dislike of children aside. With repairs still underway, and the city by the harbor not yet inhabitable after its burning, the palace was bursting with humanity. The children were sharing rooms, fur-heaped pallets boasting them by the half-dozen. Náli had a room to himself, as one of the high-ranking peers of the nation, while these two boys were piled up with at least ten others.

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