Bonfire of the Calamities: A Beaufort Scales Mystery – Book 8 by Kim M. Watt

Author:Kim M. Watt
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Kim M. Watt

They circled back to the house and picked up Rainbow’s scent where they’d left her earlier. Like her sister, she was light upon the land, but where Miriam left a faint trace of calm violet smudges run through with cheesy puff orange anxiety, Rainbow left something green and moody and gnawed at the edges with long slow grief. It was hard to pick out among the trees’ own ancient concern for the lost, and it made Mortimer think that perhaps Rainbow had less to fear from the woods than others might have. It didn’t make it safe for her, though.

“She can’t have gone far,” Beaufort said, as they padded along her trail. “It’s hard enough getting through here on four paws, let alone two.”

Mortimer made a small mumble of agreement, his own paw still smarting from the bat bite (its fangs were apparently small enough and sharp enough to get in around the edge of a scale), and concentrated on following the trail.

It led them deeper and deeper into the woods, plunging away from the house into old, wild forest until they met a brook that chattered over mossy rocks and between green-clad banks, forming tiny natural pools and shimmering cascades as it made its way to lower ground. There were scrapes on the rocks where the moss had come off, following the route of the water, and even with the rich brown dampness and the sharp electric scent of the water drowning all else, those scrapes were as good as arrows saying this way!

They found Rainbow sitting on the bank only a few minutes’ walk further on, and stopped at a reasonable distance from her.

“Hello,” Beaufort said. His scales glittered in muted greens and golds in the dim light filtering through the trees, and he looked carved from the world around him. Mortimer looked down at his paws, expecting anxious grey, and discovered he was wearing his own deep purples and royal blues, which was rather nicer than expected.

Rainbow jumped, scrambling to her feet, and stared at them. “Hello,” she said after a moment.

“We’re friends of Miriam,” Beaufort said.

“You’re dragons,” she said.

“That too.”

“I told Barry he was bonkers, going on about dragons.”

“Not so much.”

She nodded. “I thought something was up after the farmhouse thing, but I didn’t think you were actual dragons. I didn’t really see you up close, and it’s a bit jumbled in my head for some reason.”

“That does happen,” Beaufort said. “Call it a defence mechanism.”

Mortimer thought it was more to do with Thompson and his suggestions, but that was too much to explain.

“Oh. Good. I thought it might be from … well, it doesn’t matter. Good to know I’m not going dotty, anyway.”

They stared at each other for a moment longer, then Beaufort indicated himself. “Beaufort Scales, High Lord of the Cloverly dragons, and my friend Mortimer.”

“Hi,” Mortimer said. He had a bit of a warm flush going in his chest over friend. He supposed they were, at that, even if he still struggled to think of the old dragon as anything other than the High Lord.

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