A Ghost in the House of Iron

Chapter Twenty-Seven

Will you do it, if she asks? Balsevor says. When she asks.

"No." I close the book and stand, stretching my arms above my head. The sun is creeping up towards the edge of the horizon, lightening the sky into a deep hazy blue. The forest just before dawn smells richer, mustier. Birds are awake and twittering with excitement at the start of another day of frantic autumn foraging.

You know it's what she wants from you, the dragon says. Why are you helping her, if not to carry out her plans?

"I am not Prince Adain," I say firmly. The memory flashes into my mind of Sindred the first night we met, the sharp edge of her knife pressed to my throat, "I know who you are" whispered like a threat. "She can't turn me into someone I'm not."

She can make you play the part, he says.

"No, she can't."

Aisling strides into view, picking her way easily through the maze of tree roots. "I wish I could hear what he's saying," she says by way of greeting. She chuckles. "You sound crazy."

I smile. "Well..." I say, making a thoughtful face as I trail off, as if that's a fair assessment.

She laughs. "We all are, around here," she says.

"Sindred asked me to tell you she'd be back later this morning," I say.

"I was wondering. That goblin scare her off?" she asks.

"Something like that." I frown. "Do you think...? I know she really doesn't like the cave, or all the new visitors she's getting, but sometimes it seems like she can't wait to get away from... me." I laugh uncomfortably. "I know; how self-centered."

Aisling regards me, head tilted to one side. "Well, you are pretty terrifying," she says.

I feign a wounded gasp and she grins. I appreciate her humor. Aisling is one of the few people in the group who's made an effort to talk to me, make me feel like one of them. In fact, she seems genuinely happy that I've joined their secret rebellion, in a way that doesn't fully make sense to me. I worry that she also expects something of me based on who I used to be, that she's just another person I'll end up disappointing.

"I wouldn't worry about Sin," she says. "She's just... not quick to trust. None of us are. She's used to being alone, you know?"

I do. I think that's part of what's so frustrating. Sindred's sort of... coldness should be completely understandable. In many ways, I feel like we're the same. Cut off from people, perhaps more comfortable with quiet solitude. Not fully belonging in one place or the other. Yet sometimes the way she stares at me, I feel like she's trying to erase my very existence by force of will alone. Like she can't stand to be in the same world as me. She puts up this wall and it's as though I can feel it, pushing me away. I'm not sure why that drives me so insane.

"I just wish I could read what she's thinking, sometimes," I say, rubbing the back of my neck and looking to the sky.

Trust me, that's not what you want, says Balsevor. Even glimpses of your thoughts are enough to make a dragon scream for silence.

Aisling smiles knowingly at me. "Maybe she'll open up, someday. If you stick around long enough." She says the last part pointedly.

I smirk, a bit bashfully. "I can't leave until my mother is safe."

"But once she is...?" Aisling asks.

I open my mouth, then close it again. "I don't know," I say, sighing. "I suppose we'll see."