Chapter 98

That afternoon I returned to the workbench to see if I could stabilize the enchantment. By now I’d burned through a dozen pieces of scrap metal, and my supply was getting low.

Two more attempts ended the same way as the others - mana circuits forming halfway before collapsing like a house of cards. But on the third try something different happened.

The runes held.

The mana circuits threaded through them and formed a complete construct. It felt fragile - like a precarious stack of uneven rocks - ready to topple if I breathed on it wrong. But it held.

I fed a trickle of mana into the matrix. The metal warmed. Then it grew hotter - hot enough that touching it would burn skin, though not quite enough to glow red.

It wasn’t impressive. But it worked.

I set the piece aside carefully, intending to check it later to see if the enchantment would remain stable over time.

Stepping out into the bailey, I sang a small chicken coop into existence along with a pen for the goats. It wasn’t anything fancy - just timber posts, slatted walls, and a simple gate - but it would do.

With any luck we’d have chicks in a couple of months. The goats would take longer.

After that I turned my attention to something I’d been meaning to build for a while - a proper workshop.

Stone rose from the ground as I sang it into shape. Workbenches lined the walls. A large stone basin formed the heart of the room where I could build a forge. Nearby I raised a few stone blocks that I hoped to mount anvils on someday, along with racks for tools I didn’t actually own yet.

By the time I finished, the light had started to fade. I headed toward the keep, already thinking about dinner.

I stopped before reaching the door.

Vel and Thae stood atop the curtain wall. Both were rigid - their bodies coiled tight like springs ready to snap.

I jogged over and climbed the stairs. Even before I reached them I could hear the low growls in their throats. Their hands flexed. Their backs were tight with tension. I followed their gaze.

A pair of red eyes stared back from the treeline.

Just inside the forest stood a naked man. He was filthy, his body smeared with dirt and old blood. His hair hung in matted clumps around his face. His irises were the same bright red as the ferals, and when he parted his lips I saw rows of sharp teeth.

A Bloodchild.

I rested a hand on Vel and Thae’s shoulders.

Both of them jumped at the touch, glanced at me, then immediately returned their attention to the stranger.

“Is he dangerous?” I asked.

Vel gave me a look that clearly said that was a stupid question.

“He is weak,” Thae said.

I nodded slowly. “Should we go out and say hi?”

The two of them considered that. After a moment Vel nodded.

We descended the stairs, opened the gate, and stepped outside before closing it behind us.

The young man paced as we approached. His posture mirrored the girls’ earlier stance - tense, aggressive, teeth bared, claws flexing.

We made it halfway across the distance before he rushed us.

Before I could react, Vel exploded forward. She slammed into him, drove him to the ground, and sank her teeth into his throat.

He went limp instantly.

Not dead. Just… still.

Vel held him pinned there for a few seconds before releasing him. Then she stepped back and sat on her heels as if nothing unusual had happened.

Blood dripped from his neck, small puncture wounds dotting the skin. He rolled onto his hands and feet and crouched low, his gaze shifting between Vel and the rest of us.

Thae and I continued forward slowly.

He backed away.

When we reached Vel, she stood again. I wrapped an arm around each girl and kissed Vel lightly on the side of her head.

“I’ll get him some food,” I said. I stepped into the kitchen and returned a moment later with several sausages.

The young man jumped at my sudden appearance and retreated several steps.

I squatted down to look less threatening and tossed one of the sausages toward him.

He skittered away from it. Then he sniffed the air. Slowly - warily - he crept closer. He moved like a wild dog. Hungry, cautious, ready to bolt at any moment. He picked up the sausage, sniffed it once, and shoved the entire thing into his mouth. He barely chewed before swallowing.

I tossed him another.

He flinched again, though this time he didn’t retreat as far. He grabbed it and devoured it just as quickly. The last one I tossed landed closer to him. He snatched it up immediately and stuffed it into his mouth.

I let out a slow breath. “I’m not sure what to do with him,” I admitted to the girls. “He’s too dangerous to let wander around, but we can’t bring him inside.”

“He’s not family,” Vel said.

“You’re right,” I replied. “You didn’t call him here, did you?”

She shook her head.

I studied the young man again. “I wonder why he came all the way up here. He’s not from one of the nearby villages.”

Both girls shrugged.

“Alright,” I said finally. “Let’s go eat dinner. We’ll talk it over and decide what to do.”

Vel and Thae turned and headed back toward the keep.

I lingered a moment longer, watching the Bloodchild crouched near the treeline. Then I followed them inside.

* * *

At dinner we talked about our newest guest - the Bloodchild lurking outside the walls.

Mirri was the first to speak. She was worried about him, already trying to figure out ways we could get him food, water, maybe even shelter without putting anyone in danger.

Serah was more curious than concerned.

“What brought him here?” she wondered aloud. “He can’t be from any nearby village.”

She was right. We’d collected all the Bloodchildren from the five villages when they were born. There weren’t any other nearby settlements. Someone like him would have been noticed.

“So he came from somewhere else,” she continued. “But where?”

Ashlara sat quietly for a moment before speaking, her voice blunt as always.

“He could wander into one of the villages. Hurt someone.”

“That’s possible,” I agreed. “There are stories in Northgate about Bloodchildren attacking people. I don’t know how many of those stories are true, but we do know he’s aggressive.”

I glanced at Vel. “Vel put him in his place,” I added. “But that doesn’t mean he wouldn’t lash out at someone else.”

Vel gave the faintest smile as she cut into her venison steak.

Ashlara wasn’t finished. “There could be more of them.”

The room went quiet for a moment.

“Which means someone should keep an eye on the villages,” I said slowly. “There are five of them. Reedwatch, Twinfurrow, Pinefall, Snagfield, and Mudcross.” I leaned back in my chair. “And there are only four of us.”

I thought about it for a moment, frowning.“I also don’t love the idea of leaving the kids here alone. We don’t know who - or what - might show up.”

“We can take care of ourselves,” Torvek said.

I met his gaze. “I trust you to handle almost anything that comes your way,” I told him honestly. “But when it comes to gods or armies, I don’t even trust myself.”

I folded my arms. “Brand almost killed the four of us, and he wasn’t even a god. If Aurelion showed up wanting to hurt someone? Or Pyraeth? One of them might be strong enough to break into the demesne.”

Torvek didn’t look happy about that answer.

“I care about you,” I said, gesturing around the table. “We all do. And it’s my job to worry about everyone - even if you don’t think you need it.” I gave him a small smile to soften the edge of it.

Torvek was nearly a man. He wanted to prove himself - to me, to the others, maybe to himself most of all. And I knew he’d fight like hell to protect the others.

But if something happened to one of them because of me? I’d never forgive myself.

“So,” I said finally, “let’s take this slow and hope for the best.”

I turned to my daugher. “Vel, you and Ashie keep an eye on our visitor tonight. Make sure he doesn’t get into trouble.”

Then I looked at Thae. “I’m heading to Reedwatch tonight to check in with everyone there. Thae, you can come with me. You seemed to sense him the same way Vel did.”

She nodded once.

“Tomorrow I’ll check on Twinfurrow. Then Pinefall, Snagfield, and Mudcross. Maybe I’ll bring one of the others along.”

I looked around the table. Everyone seemed satisfied with the plan. For now, at least.

* * *

After dinner I stepped to the demesne with Thae, then from there to Grams’ house in Reedwatch.

The old goblin woman immediately fussed over the dragon girl, cooing and pinching her cheeks like Thae was still a toddler. Thae stood there stiff and confused while it happened, clearly unsure how to react. She did accept the jerky Grams pressed into her hands, though. That seemed to help.

While Thae gnawed on it, I explained about the Bloodchild lurking near the keep and asked Grams to keep an eye out. She nodded seriously, then shooed us along so we could speak with Kashrinna, the matron of Reedwatch.

Mirri’s mother, Morghinna, was actually the matron of Pinefall, where her brother Pik still lived. Mirri had moved in with Grams years ago because she didn’t get along with her mother. I could understand why. Morghinna had been one of the matrons who voted to exile the incredible woman I was lucky enough to call my girlfriend.

Kashrinna was the oldest of the matrons - seventy-three years old. Her gray skin was wrinkled with age and her hair was dyed a bright blue that didn’t quite hide the white roots beneath it. Like most goblin women, she wore no top, just a short skirt and simple shoes.

Two goblin warriors stood beside her chair at attention.

One of them had a suspiciously wet mouth and chin. Kashrinna shifted slightly in her seat, rubbing her legs together as if trying to scratch an itch her guard had been working on.

I pretended not to notice.

After the rocky start I’d had with the matrons, most of them had warmed up to me - or at least tolerated my presence. Morghinna still disliked me, though I wasn’t sure whether that was because of the argument over the trolls or because her daughter was dating me.

Either way, it didn’t bother me much. I rarely saw her, and Mirri’s opinion mattered a lot more.

I introduced Thae to Kashrinna and told her about the Bloodchild we’d spotted near the keep. Thae and I would be patrolling the village tonight, and I planned to check the other villages over the next few days until we were sure everything was safe.

“If anyone sees anything,” I told her, “send word. Bloodchildren can be dangerous.”

She nodded thoughtfully.

With that handled, we excused ourselves and left her to whatever it was she’d been doing before we interrupted.

Clouds were already gathering as Thae and I began walking through the village.

She was quiet - as usual. Most of the ferals didn’t talk much unless they had something specific to say, so we walked in silence. I tried a few jokes along the way. She either didn’t understand them or didn’t find them funny. Hard to tell which.

After about an hour the rain started.

It wasn’t a gentle drizzle either - it came down hard, thick drops pelting the ground and soaking us through almost immediately. I pulled off my cloak and draped it over Thae’s shoulders. The cold didn’t seem to bother her, but leaving her uncovered still felt wrong.

Sometime after midnight the temperature dropped. The rain turned to sleet, then to freezing rain. Mud and puddles hardened into slick sheets of ice that made walking… interesting.

As we passed Grams’ house we heard the frantic bleating of a goat.

We followed the sound and found one of the kids had somehow gotten over the fence. The poor thing was standing out in the freezing rain, crying to get back to the small barn where the others were sleeping.

I scooped him up and swung a leg over the fence. My foot slipped on the ice. My other foot caught the top rail. I went down hard on my back, shattering the thin layer of ice and splashing myself with cold mud.

The goat launched out of my arms, stepped directly on my face, and sprinted for the barn.

Behind me I heard a quiet chuckle.

Then a giggle.

Then a sharp, delighted cackle.

I turned my head. Thae was laughing. My daughter - the analytical, serious, dragon-scaled girl who barely ever showed emotion - was doubled over laughing at me.

I snorted. Then I started laughing too. I tried to get up. My foot slipped again and I face-planted into the mud.

Thae collapsed onto the ground, her laughter going quiet but intense as her shoulders shook.

I managed to get to my feet - successfully this time - and skated awkwardly over to the fence.

I stepped over it and looked down at her. Her red eyes gleamed with amusement, though she’d mostly gotten herself under control.

I reached down to help her up. The shift in weight sent my feet sliding out from under me again. I slammed onto my side, more mud bubbling up through the broken ice.

That set her off all over again.

I scooped up a handful of mud and flung it at her.

She shrieked - an unmistakably girlish sound so unlike her usual calm demeanor that it sent me into another fit of laughter.

Soon we were both slinging wet, freezing mud at each other, laughing like idiots in the middle of the storm.

Eventually we ran out of energy and just lay there in the cold mud, filthy and exhausted.

After a while we helped each other up and resumed our patrol.

By the time dawn finally arrived, we stepped home to clean up.