Dragonskin Slippers Read online

  DRAGONSKIN SLIPPERS

  JESSICA DAY GEORGE

  For Mikey, who has put up with an awful lot over the past nine years, but who never gave up on me or let me give up on myself.

  And for the dragons.

  Contents

  The Brown Dragon of Carlieff

  A Fine Pair of Shoes

  Shards of Glass, Coloured Brightly

  The Gold Dragon of Rath Forest

  A Cave Like Home

  The King’s Seat

  The Princess’s Pippin

  The Curfew Bells Toll

  Scarlet Ribbons

  Numb Fingers, Itchy Feet

  A Plague of Royals

  A Midnight Caller

  Silver, Calfskin and Pearls

  A Gown Fit for a Princess

  Wanting a Dragon, Getting a Prince

  Pearls, Not Glass

  Satin Roses and Golden Ale

  A Gown Like Stained Glass

  A Council of War

  An Unusual Messenger

  Feniul

  Hope Strung on a Loom

  Collaring Dragons

  Shardas

  The New Palace by Night

  A Visit to the Kitchens

  Beneath the King’s Seat

  Picking Up the Pieces

  Stolen Glass

  Acknowledgements

  Meet the Author

  Also by Jessica Day George

  The Brown Dragon of Carlieff

  It was my aunt who decided to give me to the dragon. Not that she was evil, or didn’t care for me. It’s just that we were very poor, and she was, as we said in those parts, dumber than two turnips in a rain barrel.

  My father had been a terrible farmer, and too proud to admit it, so he had struggled on year after year despite countless failed harvests. It had only been my mother’s skill with embroidery that kept us from starvation. She had sewn fancywork for all of the merchants’ wives and once for the lady of the manor. But now Mother and Father were dead from a fever, leaving me and my brother, Hagen, to the mercy of my father’s sister and her husband, who weren’t exactly wealthy themselves.

  After the sale of our farm brought only enough money to pay off the mortgage, my aunt proposed the idea that I might marry into money and so pull the rest of the family out of poverty. But while I was pleasant enough to look at, with blue eyes and a small nose, my straw-yellow hair was also straw-straight and I was sadly freckled. To be blunt, I was no beauty, and as I could not spin straw into gold or cry diamond tears, there was no reason for a wealthy suitor to overlook the fact that I had no dowry whatsoever.

  “It will have to be the dragon,” my silly aunt declared as we all sat around the hearth, holding what my uncle called a council of war. “Surely a brave adventuring knight will save her from its clutches,” she continued, “and then we shall all be taken away to live in his castle.” She was also very fond of reading romantic tales.

  “All of us?” My uncle looked up from where he sat by the fire and whittled a rattle for my newest cousin. “Throwing yourself and myself and our youngsters into the mix as well?” He winked at me behind her back. He had a sly sense of humour after years of dealing with my aunt.

  “It’s the least he could do,” she said stiffly.

  Which really made no sense at all. Why should anyone be rewarded for defeating a dragon by being saddled with a dowryless, freckled wife and well over a dozen daft and impoverished in-laws?

  No matter how I pleaded and my uncle argued logic, my aunt would not be swayed. That my uncle finally agreed to the plan made me realise just how badly off they were. Their farm, like my father’s had been, was on the brink of ruin. Hagen was fourteen and could help in the fields, so there was no need to get rid of him, but I was just another mouth to feed, blood kin or not.

  Rolling my eyes, I went into the hills above our town and stood outside the great smoke-stained entrance to the cave where everyone agreed that the dragon of Carlieff lived. My aunt came with me, to make sure that I didn’t try to skive off, and brought her two oldest boys and Hagen as well. She promised them each a penny candy if they would pitch rocks at the cave mouth to awaken the dragon once she was safely back on the trail to town.

  Hagen just shook his head and grinned at me. “Not to worry, Creel,” he assured me. “All us lads dare each other to come up and yell at the dragon. He’s never been seen, not since Grandad’s time. Dead as a doornail, I bet. Just wait here until dark and then come on home. Uncle says mebbe you can get work at the manor.”

  I smiled and nodded, suddenly choking back tears. My scanty possessions were in a satchel slung over my shoulder, including any yarn or embroidery floss I had managed to save from Mother’s supplies before my aunt sold them. I didn’t want to upset him, but this would likely be the last time I saw Hagen for a long, long time.

  My uncle had mentioned working at the manor to me as well. He told me to go to the caves to humour my aunt, and when I got back he would take me to see the manor housekeeper about a job. But I had seen the doubt in his eyes and knew that it was a slim hope. I had my own plans, once Hagen and the other boys had gone back to town. And they didn’t involve scrubbing floors.

  My aunt started down the trail, shrilly directing the boys to start throwing rocks and admonishing me not to forget whose idea it had been to bring me to the dragon. I promised her cheerfully that I would not, snickered with Hagen, and even threw a few rocks myself.

  Either the dragon had risen from the dead, however, or it had been away visiting friends since our grandad’s time. It appeared soon after we began our bombardment. The first thing we heard was a great rumbling and scraping, audible even over the sound of our shouts. Then a plume of smoke came out of the cave, followed by the beast itself. My two cousins took off, screaming like anything, while Hagen and I stood there numbly, staring at the dragon.

  It was brown and scaly and looked impossibly old, with a great rack of shining golden horns on its massive head. My throat was so dry that the sides stuck painfully together, and a cold river of sweat started down my back beneath my worn gown.

  Hagen touched my elbow. “Run,” he whispered. He sounded as terrified as I felt, and I was grateful that he had stayed with me. “Run.”

  “You run,” I said. I didn’t think my legs would work. “I’ll be right behind you.”

  I felt the stirring of air as my brother wheeled about, needing no more urging, and took off down the trail like a young deer. My legs failed to carry me after him. I was mesmerised by the ancient beast’s great golden eyes.

  “What do you want?” Its voice rumbled and grated and hurt the bones behind my ears.

  “I am a virgin, pure and true,” I recited as my aunt had coached, not knowing what else to say. My voice came out in a wheeze, and my legs were now trembling so hard I feared that they would rattle me right off my feet.

  “And what am I supposed to do with you?” The dragon snorted, and a ball of fire shot out and burnt the grass to ash not two paces from me.

  “N-nothing. I am sure that a noble knight will come to save me from your clutches.” I blushed to say something so ridiculous, but I didn’t know how else to answer. I wasn’t actually in his clutches, and the Lord of Carlieff’s son was the only noble knight for miles around, and was known more for his skill at dancing than his fighting prowess.

  “Are you a princess?”

  “No.”

  “Then what are you?”

  “I’m the daughter of a farmer,” I said, lifting my chin. “My name is Creelisel Carlbrun.”

  “Oh, by the First Fires,” the dragon moaned. “I have no desire to deal with this.” He shook his rack of horns. “I am old and tired and bored with all the foolishness that humans ca
use.”

  “Oh,” I said, feeling as foolish as they come. It had not occurred to me, or to my family, that even the dragon might not want me. Its words also made me wonder: Who would come after the daughter of a poor farmer? Would some knight or lord really be moved enough by my plight to risk his life for a nobody like me?

  “I’m sorry,” I told the dragon sheepishly. “I can leave.” I had a vague idea of where I would go: I thought to carry on my mother’s dream of opening her own dress shop in one of the larger cities. And anything would be better than being eaten by a disgruntled and elderly dragon.

  “I don’t think so,” the dragon rumbled. “Get into the cave, go on!” It waved one claw towards the entrance. “I’d like to find out exactly how much trouble you’re going to cause before I decide how to dispose of you.”

  “I’d really rather save you the worry,” I said desperately.

  “Go,” the dragon said again, pointing into the dark cave. “Hurry.”

  I had to admit, scared though I was, I was also quite curious about what a dragon’s lair would be like. Would I be permitted to see the great mound of gold on which he slept? Was the floor carpeted with the bones of fallen knights? Steeling myself, I cautiously preceded the dragon into his cave.

  It was quite a disappointment. Really, there was nothing out of the ordinary about the dragon’s lair at all. It was almost exactly like the caves to the east where my girl cousins met their swains to canoodle. Nothing more than a large, damp room with some imposing but not particularly inspiring rock formations. I breathed a faint sigh of regret, inhaling the odour of stone and cold and just a hint of sulphur. Perhaps I would not be treated to a sight of his hoard after all.

  I was no longer as worried about being eaten as I had been. This dragon did not seem that inclined towards munching on human flesh. I was more worried that he would send me away empty-handed, without either a champion or a generous dowry. I didn’t want the champion, but the dowry-money would come in handy. It seemed that I had heard stories of noble creatures such as dragons taking pity on dowryless girls and gifting them with ancient treasures. Hadn’t I? Perhaps it wasn’t dragons. But surely, to avoid having to fight some overzealous knight, this one might make an exception …

  “Don’t step in the pool.” The dragon’s rough voice intruded on my reverie.

  I halted in time to avoid putting my foot in a perfectly circular pool in front of me. I looked down and couldn’t see the bottom. And, to my alarm, I couldn’t see my reflection either. Just the dragon looking back up at me.

  But it wasn’t my dragon, I realised with a start. It was a blue-grey dragon with only two horns on its head, and it was looking up at me from the pool with an expression of what I guessed to be surprise.

  “By the First Fires, Theoradus, what is that you’ve got there?” The voice of the blue-grey dragon rippled the waters of the pool just slightly, but his image didn’t waver. It was an unsettling sight. “It looks like a human female.”

  “It is a human female,” the brown dragon said with disgust. “It appeared at the entrance of my cave, demanding that I fight some knight over it. And I never wanted it to begin with.”

  “Half a moment,” I protested, tearing my gaze away from the alarming vision in the enchanted pool. “I never demanded any such thing! I’ve been offering to leave quietly, and you wouldn’t let me!”

  “Its clan sent it here,” the brown said woefully, “and now it thinks that a knight will come to save it, even though it is not nobly born.”

  “Coo-ee,” the blue-grey breathed. “It’s been years since I’ve had to fight a knight.” It licked its chops with a long forked tongue. “I don’t know what you’re complaining about. She looks tasty enough, and you’ll get to eat her champion, too.” A rattling laugh stirred the water. “It’s almost enough to make me fly over to your territory to share the feast.”

  My knees were knocking together so hard that I was sure the dragons could hear them, and my teeth had begun to chatter. The brown dragon rather reminded me of the local tailor, who was much plagued by his wife and eight children and liked to pretend that he couldn’t stand the lot of them. Secretly, though, he doted on the entire brood. But this great beast wasn’t the local tailor; he was an animal, a monster, really.

  And it seemed that he did eat humans.

  Or at least he was acquainted with dragons that did.

  I hated my aunt suddenly, with a ferocity that startled me and kept me from hearing the brown dragon’s next words.

  “I beg your pardon?” I shook my head to clear my thoughts. It was certainly the wrong time for me to be daydreaming, but there was something so surreal about my situation that I could hardly focus on the here and now.

  “We were not speaking to you,” Theoradus said in his dry voice.

  “If you must use the pool, you must.” The blue-grey dragon sighed. “But promise me that you will summon me right back, Theoradus. I am dying to know how this is going to turn out.”

  “Very well,” Theoradus agreed in a much put-upon tone. “Now go.”

  He put one claw into the pool and stirred it, breaking up the image of the other dragon, which had something that nearly approached a grin on its face. Theoradus withdrew his claw and then blew a gust of hot, sulphurous breath across the surface of the pool.

  The surface boiled and then the bubbles were replaced by an image I recognised as the gates to the lord’s manor. Standing before them were my aunt, Hagen, and the entire host of my cousins. There was a large crowd of townsfolk as well, and I groaned in despair. Even if the dragon did let me go, there would be no living this down. I was going to have to leave Carlieff for certain. Theoradus dipped a claw into the water briefly and the sound of my aunt’s piercing voice filled the cave.

  “Swooped down out of the sky, like some great demon from the Holy Writings,” she squawked, waving her arms for emphasis, while my female cousins all sobbed into their aprons and nodded in carefully coached agreement. “Simply carried her off! And a finer, prettier, more accomplished girl there never was!”

  It took me a moment to realise that she was talking about me, and I felt a surge of liking for my aunt. Then I recognised her listener as the lord’s son, and groaned again. She didn’t truly think that I was pretty or accomplished, I told myself. She was only trying to stir him up so that he would ride out to save her poor dragon-abducted niece.

  The townsfolk were muttering and weeping in appreciation of the story. The women clutched their children closer and the men scanned the skies for more dragon activity.

  “You must do something,” a woman screeched. “Our lord must protect us!”

  “This is going to be irritating, at the least,” Theoradus rumbled.

  “And at the most?” There was a quaver in my voice that I couldn’t hide.

  “Painful.” He bared all his teeth in a jagged grin. “But not for me, of course.”

  “What if he should slay you?” I didn’t want to offend the beast, but I was a touch sceptical about his blithe attitude. The lord’s son was very brave, even if he wasn’t very muscular.

  “You don’t get to be six hundred and seventy years old by being slow or weak,” the dragon informed me.

  “Oh.” I shivered. In the pool, the lord’s son was striking his chest with a large fist and proclaiming that he would rescue the fair maid or be killed in the endeavour. “Oh, dear,” I said.

  A Fine Pair of Shoes

  While I sat glumly on a stone outcropping with my pitiful bundle of belongings beside me, the brown dragon dispersed the image of my aunt and her audience and summoned his blue-grey friend again. I was trying to think of some alternative, some way that I could get out of this mess and go home … No, not home. I didn’t have a home any more, and I was old enough to make my own way in the world, one way or another.

  First, however, I needed to get out of this cave.

  “The Lord of Carlieff’s son is coming,” Theoradus told his friend in a dry growl, “to res
cue the fair maiden.”

  “Is she fair?” His friend squinted up out of the water at me. “I never can tell with these humans.” He shook his head. “Is he decked out in shining armour and already madly in love with the poor maiden?”

  “Yes,” Theoradus admitted, an expression of distinct embarrassment crossing his face.

  The other dragon roared with what I realised was laughter. “I might come and watch. Earnest young knights are my favourite sport. I love the looks on their faces when they realise that they’re being slow-cooked in their own armour.”

  An idea was forming in my brain, though I had to take a moment to quell the horrifying image of the lord’s son being slow-cooked in his own armour. This outer chamber of the dragon’s lair was very plain, but there was a wide opening beyond the pool that surely led to more caves.

  I hopped down from my cold seat. “If I may suggest something,” I began.

  “No,” the brown dragon said curtly.

  “If you would please listen to me, I could save you the inconvenience of having to fight the lord’s son,” I wheedled.

  “No one asked you,” Theoradus retorted.

  “But I don’t want to stay here and have you fight him,” I said, taking a bold step towards the beast. “And you don’t want to fight him, either.”

  “What is it trying to say?” The blue-grey dragon peered curiously up at me. There was a look of amusement on its muzzle.

  “I will happily leave here, and take the lord’s son with me,” I said in a rush. “That way, you won’t have to worry about me, or fighting the lord’s son or any other knight. And all I ask in return is a small trinket from your large and no doubt magnificent hoard.”

  A single jewel-encrusted goblet from the dragon’s hoard would pay my way to a city … perhaps even to the King’s Seat itself … And surely the dragon would not miss a single item from what I was sure was a prodigious treasure trove, considering his age.

  “You want something from my hoard?” The brown dragon looked stunned.

  My heart sank. Perhaps in dragon society this was a horrible faux pas. I prayed fervently that it wasn’t the sort of mistake that was remedied by roasting the offender.