Chapter 7

A month had passed since Aldric's departure. Lilly had been insufferable for the first week or so. The crying had stopped more or less on the first day, but the quiet sullenness and dirty looks hadn't died down yet.

Rory hadn't talked with her about it. There was nothing to say. She knew that somehow Lilly had forged some kind of connection with him, and she suspected that she viewed Aldric as a stand-in for their father.

What did that say about Lilly that she had attached herself so tightly to someone who was around for not even two days? Was Lilly starved for human contact? Or was it Aldric's inexplicable ability to make everyone around him feel safe?

She crouched outside near the small waterfall, rinsing her hands in the cool, clear water. A few days past, a fox had killed the two chickens she had kept for Lilly. Rory didn't care much about them; they were too old to produce eggs anymore. But Lilly had been heartbroken—though all of her emotions had been much more intense ever since the incident.

So she'd spent the better part of the day building a stronger coop for two new chickens. Lilly was sitting inside the coop now, holding the chicken she had named Junie on her lap. Junie's sister, Ginny, poked nosily around the back of the house near the woodpile.

She caught a snippet of Lilly's voice, carried on a breeze. She pulled her hands out of the water and drifted closer, trying to hear what she was saying.

Lilly was talking to the chicken. Her small hands smoothed through the young hen's downy feathers. "You would've liked him, Junie. He was real nice."

Rory turned and stalked away, gritting her teeth. She kicked at the woodpile, sending logs scattering everywhere. Behind her, Lilly's voice cut off abruptly and she heard the door to the coop closing.

Perfect. Just perfect.

She pressed her hands to her forehead. Rory would never admit it to anyone, but she missed Aldric's presence as well. It felt much safer with another person at her back, fighting with her. Aldric was a powerful werewolf and had proven himself to be a fierce fighter.

Something inside her missed him as well. Her wolf had liked him, and ever since he had left, the spirit seemed restless and agitated. She wordlessly berated it, trying to make it understand that they were alone again.

Late that night, they ate supper—silently. Again. Lilly picked out and ate the pieces of venison and carrot in the stew, but pushed the other vegetables around with her spoon.

"Eat all of it," Rory insisted. "It's good for you."

Lilly glared at her balefully. "So?"

"So, if it's good for you, you should do it."

Pushing her bowl away suddenly, Lilly dropped her spoon on the table. "Why? You don't always do things that are good for you."

Rory looked up from her food at her, her voice a warning. "Don't start."

"Why can't I talk about it? I'm not allowed to do anything!" Lilly's voice was as angry as Rory had ever heard it. Normally gentle and even-tempered, Lilly shoved away from the dinner table and stood in front of her. "I want to talk about it!"

"There's nothing to talk about!" Rory snapped. "It's over."

"It's not over!" Lilly insisted breathlessly. "I heard what he said. He said he would still help us."

Rory pushed her own food away. "Lilly, if it were that easy, if I could just let someone help, then believe me, I would do it."

"But it is that easy," Lilly cried. "I know that your heart hurts ever since dad left. I know that you're supposed to take care of me. And I know that you're just as scared as I am, all the time!"

"Lilly—"

"No!" she interrupted. "You listen to me now! I'm tired of being afraid all the time. I'm tired of being alone. I don't have any friends. I went to town once and it was fun and I want to do it again!"

Instead of being angry, Rory was fighting a lump in her throat. "I hear you, Lilly, please believe me. I want those things for you, too."

"Don't you want anything?" Lilly begged. "Don't you want anything for yourself? Don't you want to get married and have babies? Don't you want to not be stuck in the house all the time, being scared?"

"Of course I do."

"Then we need to fight!"

"You don't know what you're talking about," Rory told her, trying to calm her. "Even if our parents were here with us today, we couldn't do it. They're too powerful, there's too many of them. I don't even know where to start."

"But Aldric might! He's the Dragonborn, Rory. He could—"

Rory shook her head and looked down. "I don't want to talk about that, please."

"Why don't you believe him? He Shouted for you!"

"That's something that can be taught, Lilly. That doesn't prove anything. What if he's a liar?" she proposed. "What if he's claiming he's the Dragonborn but he's not? Do you know how dangerous that would make him?"

"You don't believe that," Lilly said confidently, crossing her small arms. "You can feel it, just like me. He's a hero and he can save us."

Rory sighed, frustrated. Lilly could be so mature at times—sometimes she even startled her with the truth of her words. And yet, other times she acted exactly her age.

A distant sound brought her out of her thoughts. "Did you hear that?"

Lilly rolled her eyes. "I didn't hear anything. Don't try to distract me!"

Rory hushed Lilly and stood. There it was again. The sound was louder, and accompanied by a very slight vibration in the ground.

Standing completely still, she closed her eyes and concentrated on the sounds outside the house. This time, she didn't have to strain.

The house shook violently, the source of the movement coming from above. The roof over their bedrooms cracked and partially caved in with ear-splitting noise. Lilly let out a small yelp of fear and crouched instinctively, her arms flung over her head.

"Is it them, are they back?" she shrieked, sheer panic on her face.

Before Rory could think to do anything, a deafening roar filled the house, shaking the air around them. The sleeves of Rory's armor vibrated with the sound. It stopped, and Rory lurched toward Lilly, her ears ringing.

"Dragon!" she yelled over the tinny whistling in her ears. The roof creaked and groaned again, more wood splitting as another section gave.

Rory's blood froze in her veins. The dragon had to be perched on top of the house.

"Don't move!" she commanded Lilly.

Terrified, the child cowered on the floor. "Where are you going?"

"I'll be right back! Don't move!"

She raced up the stairs, taking the steps two at a time. When she came to the top, she hesitated a moment; her bedroom had taken the worst damage. Half the space was covered in rubble and flaming wood. The bed was lost to view, the chest at the foot only partially uncovered.

Covering her face from the smoke, she pushed and kicked at the debris over the chest. Ripping it open, she had time to wrap her hand around the bow before the roof screamed in protest over her head.

She scrambled backward, narrowly avoiding the massive piece of lumber that fell away from the roof and over the spot she had just been. She coughed, dust and smoke wreathing her body.

Hazily, she realized she had been able to retrieve the bow and the quiver of arrows that had been beneath it. She clutched them to her chest tightly and started to push her way to her feet. The fire was starting to spread.

The house shook again as the dragon shifted. Rory felt a second of air whooshing in the wake of some massive movement, and then she froze in place, kneeling on the ground. She looked up through the broken, jagged hole in the roof.

The dragon's head was directly outside. It was turned to the side, and its enormous, yellow eye was looking directly at her. It was close enough for Rory to see the blade-like pupil, narrowed to a slit, and the whorls and threads of color inside the dragon's eye.

It considered her for a long moment, and then it turned—far more quickly than a creature of its size should be able to do—and scrabbled at the hole in the roof with a clawed wing.

There was a mighty sound of air whistling again, and Rory realized immediately that it was inhaling. She rolled to the side of the bed, into a narrow corner that remained untouched by debris, seconds before the dragon roared again.

A column of fire, white-hot and scorching, blew through the roof, aimed at where she had been. Desperately, Rory covered her face, trying to shield herself from the superheated air. She sucked in a breath that seared down her throat, feeling like it was cooking her lungs.

The stream of fire ended as quickly as it had begun. The floor and surrounding wood rubble blazed, leaving her trapped in the corner. The dragon moved around again, and the roof groaned ominously.

Her brain screamed at her that she had seconds before the roof collapsed on top of her. It was either go forward, through the fire, or be crushed.

Rory tightened her hold on the bow and covered her face with her other arm. She gathered her legs and half-jumped, half-ran through the fire toward the doorway she knew was on the other side.

She descended the stairs, slapping at her elbow where her sleeve had caught fire. Lilly was nowhere to be seen.

"Lilly!" she shouted, looking around frantically. Smoke had begun to fill the air and she squinted. "Lilly!"

A sound to her left alerted her. Lilly was crouched under the long table in the kitchen, curled into a tiny ball. She whimpered louder, and Rory ran to her.

She jerked her roughly out from underneath the table. Lilly cried out, but she ignored her. She shook her, forcing her to look at her face. "Look at me!"

Lilly lifted her head and met her eyes. Tear tracks marked her sooty face but her gaze was steady for the moment.

"It's on the roof," Rory told her, her voice hoarse already. "It saw me, it knows we're in here. I'm going to open the door, and then you run. Don't stop running, you hear me?"

Lilly's eyes were huge. "Where should I go?"

"Run toward town. When you get close, start yelling. The guards outside will come running. Tell them there's a dragon attacking here, that it breathes fire. They'll take care of you," she instructed.

Lilly nodded. "What about you?"

"I'm going to stay here and distract it." Rory gripped the bow. "I'm going to give it something more interesting than a little girl running away."

A huge tear rolled out of Lilly's eye and raced down her cheek, carving a new runnel in the dirt on her face. "Okay."

"Are you ready?"

At her nod, Rory ran to the door, Lilly right behind her. She threw it opened and shoved Lilly outside. "Run!"

Lilly darted outside, but ten feet from the door she stopped in her tracks. "Junie and Ginny!" she howled, looking to her left.

"No!" Rory reached out to stop her, but Lilly was too quick.

She skidded into the coop, throwing the door open. The chickens squawked in alarm as Lilly gathered them up, one under each arm. She dashed back out of the coop and began to run, awkwardly.

The roof creaked again. The dragon had seen her movement. Rory's body pulsed with terror as she saw the shadow of the beast on the ground, backed by the moonlight. She threw herself out the door, racing to where Lilly had stood.

"Hey!" she screamed. "Over here! LOOK AT ME, you big bastard!"

The dragon turned its gaze toward her distractedly. It cocked its head as if trying to figure out what she was saying.

"That's right, you monster!" she growled. "You don't want her, you want me! I'll give you a fight!"

Her arms shaking, she drew an arrow and lined up her shot, moving backward rapidly. She released the bowstring and the arrow buried itself with an audible thunk in the creature's side.

That earned her a thunderous roar of pain. With a mighty lunge, it pushed off the roof and gave a heavy flap of its wings. It gained lift in the air slowly, almost painfully slow, and once it pushed completely off the house, the entire upper floor of the structure collapsed.

Rory cried out, shielding herself as she stumbled back. Shattered beams and chunks of stone rained down around her. She righted herself frantically, readying another arrow as she searched for the dragon.

It wheeled high in the air overhead, trying to climb over the tree line. She loosed her arrow and yelled in defiance as it struck its target. The dragon called out and flapped away from the house, only to turn and tuck its wings in a dive at her.

More fire coursed from its mouth, spraying across the ruined house and then eating a path in the dirt toward her. Eyes huge, she threw herself to the side and landed in a bone-jarring roll, narrowly missing the flames.

Moving quicker than she ever had in her life, she aimed another arrow at the dragon's passing form and once again made a hit. The beast lunged in the air, gaining altitude, and sinuously rolled its huge body to turn again.

Her fourth arrow pierced its wing. Tearing through the soft membrane like a knife into a loaf of bread, the arrow passed through, leaving a bleeding puncture wound behind. Hovering in the air, the dragon directed its rage into another breath of fire.

Rory was ready for it, and was already running. The flames chased after her, following her path along the ground as she made for a stand of trees near the house. She cried out in pain as she felt scorching heat wash over her right leg.

She shot at the creature again. This time, her arrow met its mark directly in the soft underside of the dragon. The gout of fire cut off abruptly as the dragon flinched.

Hovering in the air, its wings stirring the fire and smoke around the both of them, it stared at her. Panting, with sweat coursing down her face and into her eyes, she held still. Her next arrow was aimed at its head.

It opened its jaws wide, but nothing except a loud, long shriek came from its throat. The dragon heaved its body through the air, visibly struggling to get higher, and flew away from her.

She followed it with her bow, but it soared off above the trees. It began to disappear in the distance, going west away from her and Falkreath. Unbelievably, it had given up on her.

Rory collapsed onto the ground, giving one short laugh. Her hand unclenched from around the bow and she fell backward onto the baked earth. She laughed again, incredulous, until her leg throbbed when she moved it.

She sat up to examine the injury, her head still light and delirious. The leather of her armor had torn and partially melted. She could see puckered, reddened skin peering at her through the tear. Her fingers gingerly touched it, and she swallowed a whimper.

Breathing heavily despite her sore throat, she flopped onto her back again, squeezing her eyes shut. Her mind felt fuzzy, like it was stuffed with cotton. She must have breathed too much of the smoke.

Something buzzed in the back of her mind, insistent and annoying. She groaned aloud, swiping her hand in the air above her like she was brushing an insect away from her face. The feeling persisted until a thought swam groggily to the surface of her brain: Lilly.

Her eyes snapped open and she rolled unevenly to a sitting position. At the motion, her stomach roiled and she leaned to the side, heaving. Nothing came out. She forced herself to stand and then staggered to the path that connected to the main road.

She must have made it to Falkreath by now, she thought dimly. The closer she got to town, however, no guards made their presence known.

She frowned. Surely they would have dispatched at least a few of them to the house.

The road dipped downhill suddenly, and she was within view of Falkreath. Two guards were standing on either side of the entrance, peacefully looking out into the night. There was no commotion beyond them in the town proper.

Her heart thudded irregularly. Lilly hadn't made it to the town.

Rory turned and flat-out ran back the way she had come. She passed beneath the empty wooden bridge of the bandit lookout. The night was silent, only the sounds of a few buzzing torchbugs dancing nearby.

She could feel her pulse in her eyes, it was hammering so hard. She opened her mouth to call for Lilly, and then stopped short. A small, dark object lay on the side of the road past a small, abandoned house.

Kneeling, she picked it up. Lilly's shoe! It was pointed north, along the rock wall and past the small pond. She trotted forward, scanning the area. Just past the pond, she found the shoe's partner, resting in the dirt.

Looking up, she realized she stood in front of the huge manor house she had seen a time or two from the road below. Two lights flickered serenely on either side of the front door. A cow grazed in a pen to the left, and a prosperous garden was planted on the other side of the house.

Lilly had to be here, inside. But who lived here, in this house that was as large as the Jarl's quarters in Falkreath? Who had saved her sister?