Dragonlands(18)

She reached into the corner of the small cottage, grabbing her travel pack. It was stuffed with a change of clothes, breeches not a dress, bread and apples, a bit of jerky, a jar of honey, and little else. A small doll crafted by Granna from fabric scraps hid in the bottom. It was the one sentimental item she allowed herself. Everything else would have to stay behind. Waiting for her return.

Well, if she'd had family that might be the case. With Granna gone, her goods would likely last a day before they were distributed to others who needed them. No one ever came back, so why bother saving them?

She reached into her pocket, fingering the crinkled note she'd found earlier. She wanted to chalk it up to more of Granna's wishing.

A lilting noise interrupted her reverie. Tressa peeked out the back window, looking for the source. In the apple tree behind her cottage, a small downy bird, with huge eyes and a tiny beak peered at her. Its head bobbled up and down, then flipped to the side. Tressa gasped, covering her mouth with her hand. Nerak, Granna’s little owl.

Tressa tsked with her tongue, while stretching out her hand. The owl tilted its head to the other side. It was such a strange movement, as if it could almost turn its head upside down. "I’m glad to see you one last time before I leave."

The owl hooted at her, sticking its neck out and rolling its eyes. Tressa couldn't help but laugh. It was the cutest thing she'd ever seen. Nerak had always been loyal to Granna, treating Tressa as nothing more than an oddity. She’d treated the owl in kind. Now they had something in common – a loss so great neither knew how to go on.

Nerak inched closer and closer until a claw rested on the tip of Tressa's finger.

"Do you want to say goodbye to me?" Tressa smiled. The owl hooted and moved fully onto Tressa's outstretched fingers. Instead of digging in hard, it rested lightly. Warmth spread through Tressa, radiating from her hands to her shoulders, then both up and down her body. She shuddered, drawing her arm back into the cottage. As soon as both her hand and the owl were back in warmth of her home, the bird jumped to Tressa's shoulder. It nuzzled against her hair and pecked playfully at her braid.

A knock at the door startled her.

“Hey, Tressa, you still in there?”

Connor.

“Tressa?”

Bastian.

“You said you didn’t need much time. Everything okay?” Connor knocked again.

“I’m here. I’m just, uh, changing clothes. Putting on breeches for the trip.” Trip. She was probably changing her breeches just to walk into certain death. “Give me a few more seconds.”

Tressa pulled food and clothes out of her bag. Yanking the breeches over her legs one at a time, she cinched the waist under her dress, then pulled it down over the breeches. Sure she looked ridiculous, but not caring much at the moment, Tressa gathered up the little owl in her hands. “If you want to come with me, maybe you should hide in my bag.”

There were only a few owls in Hutton’s Bridge. They were looked on as a good luck charm. No one would want her to take Nerak with her, but Tressa needed every scrap of luck she could get.

Nerak didn’t argue, letting her lower it into her pack. She wrapped the food in one of her clean shirts, then placed it next to Granna’s friend. “Don’t eat any of that, okay?” She wasn’t even sure what an owl would eat. Hopefully not apples or bread or jerky.

She flipped the flap over the top and secured it with a small toggle. The owl didn’t protest. She patted the top of the bag. “Okay. You can come in now.”

Connor opened the door, Bastian stood behind him with his sword drawn. Tressa raised an eyebrow at their cautious entrance. “Something’s not right,” Connor said, glancing around her cottage. He raised a hand and Bastian lowered his sword. “We thought maybe you were being held against your will. You are okay, right?”

“Yeah, everything’s fine.” Tressa tried to appear calm. She worked even harder to keep her eyes from darting to her pack. “When do we leave? Are we getting a proper send off or are they just kicking us out of the village?”

“There are a few gathered,” Connor said. “Hazel, my boys, a few of our neighbors, and some random others.”

Tressa didn’t ask Bastian if Vinya would be there and he didn’t offer the information.

“Ready? There’s no time left to waste. We need to leave, make it through the fog, and find a cure.” Connor ran a hand through his hair, confident. As if leaving was something easy and not a death sentence.

“Don’t forget coming back to save the village.” Tressa slipped her pack off the table and onto her shoulder. Nerak didn’t protest. A small pressure on her back, like nuzzling, told her the owl was as attached to her as she was to it.