Sworn To Transfer by Terah Edun

capable of, “But your mother didn’t want to play. Unlike the courtiers who constantly surrounded her, the dragon could read her emotions, and, she told me, hear her thoughts, as well. As much as she tried to avoid him, he still knew when he saw her that she was lying, and he didn’t like it. Not one bit. He couldn’t see why she wouldn’t worship him as all the others did, and he poked at her, trying to push down the barriers she was erecting before him. That same season, she disappeared.”
    “Well, what happened?” Ciardis said.
    “All I know is one night she came into my room in tears,” the duchess said. “She wouldn’t wait the three months until the ship we had planned to run away on was coming to port. She was leaving that very night and nothing could stop her. I couldn’t leave so soon...I wouldn’t leave so soon. She disappeared that night, and I never heard a word from her after that.”
    Ciardis sighed. Another dead end.
    “But,” said the duchess, “before she left, she gave me something to give to a minstrel who played in a local tavern frequented by the wealthy noblemen of the court.”
    “What was it?” said Ciardis breathlessly.
    The duchess looked at the young girl standing before her. Eager and smart but naive. The Duchess had a look on her face as if she was seeing a vision – a vision of the past.
    “You know you look very much like her and you’re so much less cautious. You should be wary,” she said while staring at Ciardis, “But this is what you seek.”  She raised her right hand and called in her magic. In her palm appeared an oval locket. It was simple and carved of wood.
    Ciardis took it tentatively from the duchess’s outstretched hand. The outside was glossy and she could see hinges on the side with a straight line running along the curve of the oval. She tried to open it, but it wouldn’t budge.
    “Who was this minstrel?”
    “A friend—a friend of your mother’s who still plays at The Blue Duck Inn on the east bank of the Sandrin River,” the duchess replied. “Every night,” she added significantly.
    “Thank you,” said Ciardis.
    As the girl walked away cupping the locket in her hands, the duchess thought, Don’t thank me yet, child. I’ve given you more questions than answers. More mysteries than resolutions. If only you could see that.
    Ciardis quickly went to her room and changed into something more reasonable. Head rushing with hope she grabbed the first tuk-tuk she could find and instructed them to take her to The Blue Duck Inn. It was dusk now and night was falling. The minstrel who played there should be preparing for his performance.
    As she walked in the door, the old dark wood creaked between her feet and rafters soaring above her head. What looked like a three-story building from the outside was actually just one large room. On the main floor were chairs and round tables strategically placed to face the large main stage. Along the wall was a huge bar that curved the length of the room, with three bartenders strategically placed to take orders.
    The room was empty except for a few early drinkers. The bartenders knew most of the goings-on of the patrons and performers at any inn. Picking the one currently shining mugs and glasses, Ciardis walked over and ordered a cup of hot cider.
    “Will the minstrel be playing tonight?” she asked as she handed over two shillings and took her mug.
    “Aye, every night. He’s up first on stage,” said the man with the final wipe of a glass. “You should stick around for the jugglers, though,” he continued, tossing the towel onto his shoulder. “Their fire act can’t be beat. Not another one in town.”
    “I’ll be sure to,” said Ciardis while walking away.
    She took a seat off to the side. Close enough to the stage to take in the details of the minstrel, but far enough into a dark corner to not catch his eye. She wanted to see him first, to know more about him before they met. And they would meet