Page 74 of Dragon’s Ending

“You are not teaching him to throw them at people again,” she warned me.

“That happened one time.”

“Three times.”

“In fairness, the vicar started it.”

“The vicar absolutely did not start it.”

I grinned and shifted Teddy higher on my hip. “Come on then. We’ll need reinforcements.”

“Laura!” Teddy shouted instantly.

Which was how, fifteen minutes later, Ben and I found ourselves walking through the village, with Teddy charging several feet ahead. A tiny, dark-haired girl in a yellow raincoat marched importantly beside us, carrying a stick taller than she was. Apparently, she’d found it on a walk and now refused to go anywhere without it.

Ben looked around as we walked, and I realised this was the first time he’d been to the village. It was the first time he’d really been anywhere on our territory other than the records room, the castle, and my bedroom. I just hoped it wouldn’t be the last.

The village was larger than it first appeared, narrow roads leading away from the high street into a tangle of one-way lanes where houses appeared in unexpected places. Most belonged to our family, but enough humans lived here that we still had to be careful.

Laura stopped abruptly and pointed her stick at me. “Where’s the bag?”

I blinked at her imperiousness. “There was supposed to be planning involved?”

“We need a bag for the conkers,” she said patiently, in the tone of someone explaining basic concepts to a particularly stupid adult.

“Ah,” I said.

Before Ben could point out the flaws in my logistics and preparedness, I pulled my hoodie over my head and handed it to her.

“There,” I said. “Problem solved.”

Ben made a faint sound beside me. I looked over to find his gaze fixed very firmly on my t-shirt. Which was clinging rather closely to my chest.

“What?” I asked innocently.

“Nothing.” But it came out sounding strangled. I may have preened internally, just a little.

The children accepted the hoodie as an entirely reasonable storage solution and sprinted ahead towards the woods while Ben and I followed, hoping Laura didn’t put someone’s eye out with that stick.

“You realise,” he said, “most people would probably use an actual bag.”

“And deprive Teddy of the joy of ruining my clothing with muddy conkers? Never.”

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You like me ridiculous.”

His mouth twitched reluctantly. “Unfortunately, yes.”

The woods beyond the village blazed gold and copper beneath the afternoon light, fallen leaves thick underfoot while Teddy and Laura charged through the undergrowth with all the restraint of small caffeinated bears.

And somewhere amongst the cold air and the occasional shouted declaration of conker superiority, I realised I could breathe again. As if, for a little while, I could almost forget what waited for me back at the house.

* * *

By the time supper approached, the knot of dread in my stomach had tightened enough to make eating feel like an impossible concept.

I changed clothes twice before settling on black trousers and a charcoal jumper that looked respectable without appearing as though I’d made an effort. Which was ridiculous. Nothing I wore was going to improve this situation.