“Still over our property then. Our valley continues up into the foothills. Or it will as long as my father doesn’t sell it. Were you able to learn anything about that?”
Trip stuck his hands in his pockets. “I didn’t catch your father thinking about selling the property—actually, there was one thought about him not wanting to do it—but here’s what I got: ever since this silver dragon started hanging around, the workers have been quitting left and right. The dragon hasn’t hurt anyone, but they’ve all said they’re too worried to continue living here where it’s lurking. Your father has had trouble attracting new workers, and he’s concerned he’ll have to close down some of the family businesses.”
Rysha frowned. “We’re in the growing season now. He’ll need more people, not fewer. Especially by the end of the summer and early fall when everything needs to be harvested.”
“I could possibly make some interesting magic-powered machinery that could help with harvesting.”
“Trip.” She leaned on him and wrapped her hands around one of his arms. “I appreciate you wanting to help, but you should help people who are nice to you, not snobby elitists. Or silly stoat-heads.” The latter, she applied to her brothers. She loved them, but they still acted like teenagers when they were together.
“I’d never help anyone if I made that rule,” he said, his tone dry again.
Her frown deepened. “You do have friends.”
“I know. It was a joke. Mostly. I’m aware that I… something about me rubs people the wrong way at times. A lot of times. I don’t know how to change that unfortunately. I try to hide my otherness—you know that—but I think it oozes out anyway.”
“It does, but people shouldn’t be so quick to judge otherness. How infuriating.”
He wrapped an arm around her back. “Something else you should know about the dinner,” he said, not sounding particularly infuriated—maybe he was used to being judged as quirky, “is that I caught this Lord Lockvale thinking a lot about your family’s land. It’s clear he wants it. He intended to make your father an offer on it tonight, a second offer. He was here a couple of weeks ago and met with your father then too.”
“I wouldn’t think his family would have enough money to make such an offer. We own so much land that’s fertile or has ore and timber on it that it’s worth a lot even if we’re not necessarily swimming in money. We would be if we sold it. Well, maybe not right now.” Rysha leaned back to look up at his face, though she couldn’t make out his features in the dark. They had moved away from the gas lamps around the house, so her parents wouldn’t know they didn’t have typical mounts waiting out in the stable. “With all the uncertainty and unrest, this would be a horrible time to sell land. Especially if there’s a dragon hanging right around here.” Rysha imagined prospective buyers coming out to see the manor as a silver dragon sailed overhead.
“A horrible time to sell,” Trip agreed. “An excellent time to buy if someone were forced to sell.”
Rysha mulled that over. Would her father feel forced if he couldn’t find enough workers to run the family businesses and help in the fields and orchards? Or would her mother and aunt and everyone else grow tired of worrying about that silver dragon lurking around? Was there a price at which they might feel tempted to sell the entire estate?
The thought horrified her, both because she’d grown up here and loved the valley and the lake and everything beyond, and because if her parents didn’t have the businesses, they wouldn’t be making an income. If they didn’t get what the property was worth—or even if they did—would it be enough for them to live on? And Aunt Tadelay too? And her brothers, for that matter. Rysha and her sister were the only ones who didn’t have incomes that depended on the family businesses.
“My understanding from my telepathic spying was that Lockvale’s offer was disgustingly low and also that the offer he intended to make tonight was the same one, with the promise that he wouldn’t offer as much in the future if your father didn’t accept this week.”
“You don’t know the amount, do you?”
“No.”
“If Father did feel he had to sell, I’m sure he could find another buyer, one willing to offer fair market value or close.”
“How sure are you? Because that’s not what Lockvale thought.”
“Do you think he’s just trying to take advantage of the situation?” Rysha asked. “Maybe making low offers to a lot of the nobles with land in this area? Or is he targeting my father in particular? He couldn’t be working with this dragon, could he? How would that even work? It’s not like bribing a dragon with money would do anything. I assume.”
“What about bribing a dragon with tarts? Or stories?”
“I don’t bribe Shulina Arya with stories. She just likes them, and I feel it’s wise to accommodate dragons.”
“Likely so.”
Trip’s arm felt good around her back, and she leaned in closer. Even though there weren’t typically big swings between daytime and nighttime temperatures here, it was getting late, and Rysha noticed the chill in the air.
“I didn’t catch him thinking about the dragon,” Trip said, wrapping his other arm around her, “but I didn’t pry deeper into his less-than-surface thoughts.” He hesitated and shifted his weight. “When I’ve done that before, I’ve hurt the person. Inadvertently. I was angry at the time—it was that cultist leader—and it’s possible I could be more careful about extracting information in the future, but seeing blood coming out of someone’s nose as he grabbed his head in pain made me… a little afraid of myself.”
“I’m sure it’s scary to have power like that, especially if you can’t always control it.”
“Yes. I’m never sure whether I should use it or not. Would it even be legal to use it on an imperial subject—a nobleman? Were there rules against mind reading back in the old days when mages were commonplace?”
“I think you’d have to ask Sardelle. My expertise ends at dragons. They had very few rules about anything. The fittest survived and ruled and did whatever they wanted.”
“I don’t think I can do what I want just because I’m fitter than Lord Lockvale. Though Azarwrath would have been pleased if I did.”
“I think my aunt would have been too. She didn’t like him.” Rysha leaned back in Trip’s arms as a new thought occurred to her. A thought that chilled her and brought memories of Xandyrothol to mind, Xandyrothol imitating Horus Silverdale. “There’s no possibility Lockvale is a dragon masquerading as a human to get what he wants, is there?”
Trip grew still. She wished she could tell what he was thinking.
“I didn’t sense anything unusual about him, but I also didn’t sense anything unusual about the would-be Horus. He did a good job dampening his aura and fooling us all. Though I don’t know if he could have fooled an actual dragon. We can ask Shulina Arya whenever she gets here, as long as Lockvale is still in the house.”
“Can you tell where she is now?”