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“Such is the way of the world,” Aedon said. “This is why we’re here. To bring a little bit more fairness back.” When he saw the flicker of skepticism on Harper’s face, he nodded. “You’ll see.”
“How big do dragons grow?” she asked quickly, keen to cover her tracks. Don’t bite the hand that feeds you, Harper. Criminal or not.
“Huge. The size of a house or more,” Aedon said. “It is said that King Menoth’s own dragon, some four hundred and thirty years ago, was as huge as a hill.”
Brand snorted. “Poppycock.”
“Were you there?” Aedon challenged him, puffing with indignance.
“No, and neither were you, young elf.”
“Don’t ‘young elf’ me. I’m older than you!”
“In years, but not maturity,” Brand sniped, grinning as Aedon’s cheeks reddened with annoyance.
“How old are you?” Harper asked curiously. She glanced between them. Brand looked older than Aedon by far. Maybe in his late thirties to Aedon’s mid twenties. How long is a year here? she wondered. Maybe they measure it differently.
“Old enough for everything to ache when I wake up,” Brand grumbled.
“Shouldn’t spend so much time banging weapons about then,” sniped Aedon. “I, my dear Harper, am one hundred and eighty-four summers young.”
Harper gaped. “What? Are you serious?”
“Yes, quite. We live a lot longer than humans, you know.”
We? “Wait. You mean… I will live that long, too?”
“Oh, undoubtedly.”
“How long?” Harper whispered.
Aedon shrugged. “It depends on how strong your elven blood is. Perhaps we will find out one day, but it’s not something to worry about now.”
“Right.” Reeling, Harper sat back. Just when I think I can handle all this, another surprise comes my way.
“We need to move on.” Ragnar stood, brushing the dust from his trousers. “We still have a long way to go.”
“Must I?” Aedon sighed. “What I’d give for a break.”
“Less of the cheek,” Ragnar said, bustling past him.
“I don’t know what in Pelenor you’re talking about,” Aedon protested, the picture of unconvincing innocence.
“You’re the biggest reprobate of us all,” Brand called back, already out in front.
“Charming.”
Harper jogged to Erika, who strode down the trail at her usual breakneck pace. “Thank you for the berries.”
She shrugged. “No problem.”
“Hey, Erika!” Aedon caught up. “Wait up. Ragnar’s washing pots in the stream before we head out. You know, now Harper’s here, she needs to know how to defend herself. Why don’t you show her how to use a weapon whilst we wait?”
Erika gave him a stare that could have surely reduced him to cinders, as if she simply could not imagine anything worse.
“Please?” Aedon gave her his best smile.
Erika scoffed at him. “Fine.” She pulled out one of the twin blades strapped to her back and thrust it at Harper. “Here.”
