Dragon's Key--Complete

Chapter One

I'd flown in from New York into the Cardiff airport earlier and then climbed right in a car and driven three hours to the family manor in the countryside near the town of Devil's Bridge, Wales. Between layovers, the flight and driving time from Ithaca, New York, where I lived, flying to Cardiff and then the drive to Devil's Bridge, I was running on nearly 30 hours without any rest.

Immediately upon arriving, Henry, who was my grandfather's "gentleman's gentleman", had met me and we'd gone right up to my grandfather's room.  While the doctor had advised that he likely had several weeks left in him, Henry had told me he felt there was no time to waste.  

We'd gone right up the stairs, down the hallway and into the room that was my grandfather's.  The room was almost in total darkness as we entered and I stopped to allow my eyes to adjust  As I did, I was struck by how little the room had changed from when I was a child. The bed was straight ahead from the door, a large four poster draped in heavy brocades in red and gold. The rest of the room itself was just as Victorian, done in heavy fabrics and rich dark colors. A single small lamp, on the dimmest setting on the bedside table was the only light in the room, and it framed my grandfather's face where he lay.

I remembered him as being lean, wiry and tall. He seemed larger than life every other time that I had seen him, a personality almost too much to fit in one human body.  Now he was diminished, a small, gaunt figure wasting away into nothingness.  Henry moved to stand near the bottom of the bed, watching me as I stepped forward to take his own bony hand in silent request for comfort.

Tears came to my eyes. It didn't seem like my grandfather laying on the bed before me.  His skin was pale and wrinkled from all the weight he had lost suddenly. His gaunt frame sagged against the pillows, his gray hair was thin and sparse about his head, though combed neatly. 

“Oh, Henry,” my voice choked on the whisper and I couldn't continue, my free hand rising to press against my lips. “I didn't realize he was so sick.  You said, but I didn't really understand. What does the doctor say?”

“We are making him comfortable, Miss Sofie,” Henry smiled at me, trying to offer me solace though I could see the moisture in his eyes. “Dr. Storey does drop by every day to check on him, but there is nothing they can do. The cancer has spread too far.”

I could not hold back the tears in my own eyes and reached up to rub them off my face roughly with my free hand. I hated crying. I avoided it with sheer dumb stubbornness most of the time, but this was one time that I just didn't have the will. He was the last of my family and though I didn't know him well, this loss would leave me alone in the world. Underscoring the feeling of my own loss, my heart went out to him. We'd never been terribly close, and cancer was a miserable way to die.  

“He asked me to wake him when you got here,” Henry said softly, squeezing my hand before he offered me a handkerchief, understanding in his eyes. “Let me know when you're ready.”

I wiped my cheeks carefully with the simple cotton handkerchief. How like Henry to carry around a real handkerchief instead of tissues. I took a moment to pull myself together.  I didn't want my grandfather to see me like this, he had enough to worry about.  It took me a few minutes to regain my composure, but I wanted to make sure that I could talk to him without bursting into tears. 

“How's that? I don't look like I've been crying, have I?” I asked Henry, looking up at him.

Henry shook his head, returning my smile, though the light of it did not reach his eyes. “You look just fine, Miss Sofie.” 

When I indicated I was ready, Henry approached the bed, stepping around the chair that had been left at the bedside to gently shake the shoulder of the man in the bed. A moment later, the shake was more rough and still he didn't wake.