The monkeys ignored us. Not one smiled at me. I felt a pang in my chest.
“Master, is there more than this?” I gestured at the line of cages and pens.
“No more animals, except the fleas.”
We started back to the gate. When we reached it, I bade him farewell and thanked him for his kindness.
“No trouble. Had to get down from my stool anyway. End of day. Feeding time.”
“Master? Do you lock the gate at night?”
“Not I. No key. His Majesty’s guards do it after I’ve gone.”
The guards might forget sometimes, I supposed. I curtsied and left him. When I reached the lair, I found it empty, so I hurried to the market square, where the marchpane vendor said IT hadn’t sold skewers today.
“IT came earlier,” she said, “and bothered people with questions about the ogre’s feast.”
I decided to wait in the lair, but on Sabow Street I saw a column of black smoke ahead and remembered that IT sometimes made the fire hotter for Master Bonay, the blacksmith. I followed the smoke.
ITs shoulders and trunk filled the doorway of the smithy. ITs head was inside.
The shop abutted the town wall, set apart from the line of houses across the way. And no wonder it was alone: The entire building glowed fiery gold.
Master Bonay stood nearby, holding his poker in his right hand. He turned as I approached, although I don’t know how he heard me over the rush of fire. “Ah, the dragon’s apprentice.”
“Assistant, master.”
Ash drifted down on us.
He grinned. One of his front teeth was gone, but the others shone white against his sooty face. “A great day. Meenore the Unfathomable, the Stingy, lights my furnace for free.”
Smoke eddied from the side of the shed as well as from the chimney. Curious, I went there and discovered a window. I waved to clear the smoke, peered in, and gasped.
A thick jet of white fire shot from ITs mouth into the forge, the flame roaring as it spewed forth.
How could IT create such an inferno?
Nearby, a man worked a bellows. I marveled that he didn’t melt.
Master Bonay spoke into my ear. “I used to pump the bellows.” He chuckled. “Better to be a master than an apprentice.”
Undoubtedly. I crossed the street to where the heat was less fierce. Master Bonay joined me there, and we waited several minutes while, gradually, the noise dwindled. The shed’s incandescence dimmed. A few minutes more and my masteress backed away from the doorway.
“Bonay?”
“Behind you.”
IT turned. ITs eyes were paler than I’d ever seen them.
“Bonay?” A set of almost transparent eyelids lifted. IT had two pairs of eyelids. “There you are. Lodie, you are in time to hear Bonay answer my inquiries.”
How did IT know I hadn’t come on some urgent matter?
“Fire away, Meenore.” Bonay laughed at his own joke.
Enh enh enh.
The smith hadn’t been a guest at the castle. Why was IT questioning him?
“Do you believe the ogre is now a lion, Bonay, a lion who mauled his own ox?”
“I believe it. I heard a lion’s roar a few nights ago—”
As I had.
“His guests saw him turn into a lion. Only a fool would disbelieve.” He shrugged. “Makes no difference to me if His Lordship the lion is still prowling.” He raised his poker. “I have this and my cat.”
“Tell me, Bonay, if you have your cat and your poker, why wear an aegis?”
What was an eejis?
Bonay looked down at the bracelet of twine on his left wrist.
“Lodie,” IT said, “you’ve wondered about the twine. We have a saying in Two Castles: Innocence bares its wrist and trusts its luck. Guilt wraps its wrist and trusts no one.”
I understood. The twine bracelets were a protection from harm—for people who had done harm.
Goodwife Celeste wore twine, and so did Master Thiel!
“Guilt isn’t the only reason to wear a bracelet, Meenore. I need protection from fire, a roof beam collapsing.”
“I fly over town at night when the mood strikes me. Most houses are asleep, but your shed is awake. Who is giving you silver and gold, Bonay?”
The apprentice emerged from the shed. “The fire is hot enough, Master.”
“You may use the tongs, Gar. You’re ready. I’ll come in to see what you’ve done.”
The apprentice disappeared back into the shed.
“This is none of your affair, Meenore.”
“We have a bargain.”
He relented. “Burghers in debt bring me silver sometimes. Occasionally gold.”
Violet smoke rose from ITs nostrils. “Burghers in debt take their precious metals to a jewelry smith. Who really brings you silver and gold? Do not lie to me.”
“I didn’t agree to be insulted. I answered your question. My obligation is discharged.” He shifted the poker from his left hand to his right. “You are all smoke and no fire, Meenore.”
IT grinned. “Two Castles boasts three blacksmiths, but the king sends all his sword work to you. Why is that, Lodie?”
Bonay’s face was still sooty, so I felt rather than saw him pale. I cast about for an answer.