33

Elephants and Evasions

The dragon was so enormous the mountains were blocked by its girth. The black of its scales glittered red from the light of the dying sun, like so many hard faceted diamonds. Its golden eyes were slanted, like a cat, and the size of a king's serving plates. Its breath was uncomfortably hot against her skin as she stood paralysed by fear, frozen by the intensity of the beast's gaze. She blinked sand out of her lashes and in that moment the dragon disappeared. Jotham stood before her in his human form, a sardonic slant to his smile. He crossed his arms across his broad chest, golden eyes amused as he watched her with feral intensity.

"You should try a swim in the sea," he said, by way of greeting, as if he wasn't standing in the bottom of the sandy crater he had made moments before, "you might like it."

"What?" asked Candle, her voice a little croaky. Her knees felt weak, and she resisted the urge to drop onto the beach. Jotham slipped down the sands to stand next to her, and she stumbled back, afraid.

"You should go for a swim, cousin," he said again. She shook her head. Had she heard right? What a strange thing to say.

"Don't be ridiculous," she said, breaking eye contact with some difficulty and looking back up the beach towards the tiny bothy, which was bathed in buttery light. The sun was a molten core on the horizon, melting into the midnight of the water. Twilight was upon them. She didn't want to leave Locryn alone for too long, and she didn't want to hang about on the beach with a creature that was almost certainly a Revenant. "My friend is hurt," she said, "I can't leave him." She couldn't think of anything else to say to such an odd request.

"I could heal him," Jotham offered, all dangerous grace and good manners. It reminded Candle of their first meeting. What did he want now? Did Revenants offer to heal people? It didn't seem like something a creature of the Night Nation would do, but then she was hardly an expert.

"Why are you being so helpful?"

"I resent that," he said, "I'm always helpful."

"Are you a Revenant?" she blurted out. The sun disappeared, and the cool blue of the gloaming swept across the sands.

"I don't know," he said, mildly, "what's a Revenant?" Candle snorted in disgust, and stalked back up to the bothy, her shoulder blades twitching. It made good sense to be afraid of Jotham. She knew that. He could kill her with his little finger, or talon or whatever it was he had on the end of his hands. Logically she should be terrified, but she just found his manner aggravating, and not a little disarming.

As she crossed the threshold of the tiny protective circle, she turned to watch Jotham's progress with great interest. Would he be able to pass the circle? Jory hadn't said whether or not stone circles were protection against Revenants. They kept out wights and spirits, but she knew from experience they were useless for demons.

Jotham crossed it easily, with his usual feline grace and strode into the bothy, taking care not to brush against the iron door. He looked down at Locryn, who was lying on the floor, somewhere between consciousness and sleep. The gash in his side was bleeding again, and his eyelids were fluttering as if he was dreaming. He must have used up his magic on their glamour, she realised, and not had enough left over to finish the healing.

She had a moment of panic, Locryn looked so vulnerable, lying on the floor. Why had she told Jotham he was even here? Jotham was peering at him with those uncanny golden eyes. Could she trust Jotham to heal him? Not that she had much choice in the matter, she had a feeling telling Jotham what to do would have the same effect as screaming into a storm.

She opened her mouth to say something, but it was too late to protest. Veins of magic washed through Jotham's skin, making the air around him luminescent. She stepped back, towards the door, towards the cool air of the twilight, to keep clear of the magic. From a safe distance, she watched as Locryn's side knit together, the skin smoothing over as if there had never been a wound. His breath became even and peaceful. Jotham hadn't broken a sweat, she noticed, as the strange man looked down at Locryn with some satisfaction.

"Thank you," she said, and Jotham shrugged as if it was inconsequential. He stretched out his arms, yawning.

"Now let's go swimming."

"I can't swim," she said irritated. No one knew how to swim. Fishes swam, not people. She glanced out at the beautiful waves rolling across the bay; the foam gleamed an unearthly white in the light of the rising moon. "And really...why go to all the trouble of saving me under the mountain only to watch me drown now?"

"Maybe I like my scrawny little snacks pickled and salted." He laughed at his own joke. At least, she hoped it was a joke. She sat down on the edge of the protective circle, her feet dangling on the sand. Whatever happened, no matter how much she wanted to, she knew one thing: she was not getting in the water with this creature, whatever he was. She could feel the water calling to her, like a quiet but insistent cry in the back of her mind. She felt like she might lose her mind and run into it. She might have suspected Jotham of magical interference, but she could see his skin was normal. He leaned against the ogham stone that marked the bothy, the picture of indolent innocence.

"So why were you under that mountain?" she said since he didn't seem in a hurry to leave. "You promised you would tell me what happened and then you didn't."

"What?" said Jotham, his eyes locked on something further up the beach that she couldn't see. He swung back towards her, grinning. "Your memory is too good, cousin." His face darkened, momentarily, his heavy brows drawing together. "It is a long story," he said, "and not suitable for a child's ears."

"Then it's good that I'm not a child."

"It is a tale not fit for stunted teenagers either," he said, smirking. He slithered off the stones and lay down on the sand. He placed his hands behind his head and stared up at the early stars above, sighing deeply. "I fell in love," he said, after a while, "with a woman who had the face of a goddess but the vile black heart of a demon. She betrayed me," he said, thrusting one arm melodramatically up into the sky. "She betrayed me! She led me into that cavern with sweet promises, and once there, she took me unaware and bound me in the dark." His eyes darkened at the memory. "And there I waited until you arrived." He smiled at Candle, and the shadows lifting from his eyes as quickly as they had arrived.

"That's all very unspecific," she said. He laughed at her face and then turned suddenly, sniffing the wind.

"Company," he said.

"Lochlanach?" asked Candle, scrambling to her feet, and searching for a weapon that wasn't there. "Barbarians?" He didn't seem too concerned, whatever it was. His body remained relaxed as he slouched against the sand. Of course, what did he have to worry about? He could just fly off, she thought bitterly. How wonderful would that be?

"Dead things," he said lazily. "Coming up the beach."