Mellor
The smell of rotten fish hit Renda like a club. She stopped and held a hand over her nose. Kiernan turned and raised an eyebrow.
“Princess?”
“Don’t be rude,” she said from behind her hand. “Just because you’re used to the slum.”
Instead of a retort, he smiled. That was so much worse. Part of her wished she hadn’t come. But, Kiernan was insistent. And so damned persuasive.
“It isn’t far.”
When he reached for her hand, Renda gave it to him. They picked their way through the refuse and bodies that littered the dark alley. Someone coughed, a terrible, deep sound that must have hurt. Renda grimaced.
“The glamorous life of a Tether.” Kiernan emphasized this with a sweep of his arm.
“This isn’t a result of being a Tether. That’s ridiculous. There must be Drake here, too.”
Renda had tried to avoid looking at the people hunched in doorways and lying on the filthy ground. Now, she wanted to stop and gaze at each one. Wanted to check every pair of eyes. Surely there would be some with flecks.
Kiernan sighed. “Doubtful. You’d be hard pressed to find a dragon who’d been shunned like these people have.”
They passed a fire burning in a makeshift pit. Rocks of all sizes had been set in a circle, piled haphazardly to contain the flames. Three men and one woman stood next to it. Renda smiled at them as she passed. One man glared at her, the woman spat at her feet. Renda stopped and stared at her.
“Get out, you filthy crow.”
Renda’s intake of breath pleased the old woman who cackled, caw-caw, and flapped her arms like wings.
Kiernan pulled her hand and led her away. Renda kept looking back. The woman kept calling to her. As they moved forward the echoes of ‘caw-caw’ followed them.
“What did I do?” Renda looked at Kiernan.
“Your eyes.”
“Oh.” Renda blinked twice. She wasn’t Drake. Yet. But the orange flecks in her brown eyes were unmistakable.
“But, my being Drake doesn’t have anything to do with why she’s here.”
“That’s what you think,” Kiernan ran his hand through his hair, “but they see it differently.”
He stopped next to a small doorway. The wooden door had a gaping hole in the bottom half that let light into the alley. Kiernan rapped on the door in a pattern, knock-knock-pause-knock-knock.
An eyeball appeared in a crack between the door and the wall. Kiernan nodded and the door swung wide. He led her inside. The room was lit by a fire burning in the hearth and dozens of candles that covered almost every flat surface in the room. The smell of the alley was replaced by the smell of smoke. And something vaguely sweet.
“Don’t move.” Kiernan’s grip on her hand tightened. They waited.
“You’ve brought a traitor?” A gravelly voice spoke, but Renda couldn’t see where it came from.
“She’s not a traitor.” Kiernan defended her. About time.
“She’s Drake, yes?” The voice whispered.
Kiernan nodded. Renda wanted to look around, to search the room for the person speaking. But the obvious anger in the voice kept her still.
“She looks for answers.” With his hand on her back, Kiernan gently pushed her forward.
A table sat in the middle of the room covered with melted wax in reds, greens and blues. Four tall candles sat atop the table burning brightly. As she neared the flames, Renda realized there was one dark corner. This is where the voice came from.
“Answers are costly,” the voice said, “Is she willing to pay?”
Renda looked to Kiernan for permission. He nodded. She took a piece of fabric from her pocket. Unfolding it, she held it out. The red gem in the ring caught the candlelight.
A hand emerged from the dark corner, wrinkled and dirty. It was followed by an arm, then torso. Impossibly, his face was the last to emerge into the flickering light. He wore black-- sweater, pants and knit cap on his head. His wrinkles were smudged with soot. The only break in the blackness that made him was his white beard and piercing blue eyes. Clear, fleckless eyes.
Kiernan cleared his throat, “Renda of Lear Clan, may I introduce Mellor.”
