Taniel (The Taverner's Daughter I)

50: Taniel - Truths

(Dedicated to @VicChua for her dedication in turning that little star into gold. Thank you!)

I carried the honeyed drinks into the family sitting room, turned the lamp up a little, and made myself comfortable on the worn leather couch facing the cold fireplace. My aunt arrived, munching on carrot cake.

With a sigh, she plopped into her favourite armchair. After kicking off her shoes, she picked up the hot drink at her side, her eyes smiling over the rim as she sipped.

"Aunt Rita ..."

Swallowing, she waggled her cake. "Sit for a bit, love. Hanrey will be here in a few minutes. I'm guessing this concerns us both."

"Oh," I said. "I... I wanted to ask you if... if..." I sought the right words.

"If?" she urged.

"Is Father my real father?" I blurted.

Her mouth dropped open and her finely boned face seemed all eyes as she stared at me. "Why would you ask that?" She put down her cup and cake. "Why would you even think such a thing?" As her voice rose, she stood.

I hurried to her, throwing my arms around her waist. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to upset you. Just that-"

The chance of a private explanation was interrupted with Father's arrival. He carried a tankard and his eyes hardened as he took us in - his two women - distressed. "What is going on here?"

"I can dragonspeak and I want to know why." There, I had finally said it. I had told him.

Aunt Rita's eyes popped. She dropped into her chair, mouth opening and closing like a waterless fish.

"Dragontalk?" Dad's whisper was hoarse.

"Whatever you want to call it. Why, Father?" My words climbed to a shout. "Why can I talk to dragons?"

He went red. He paled. The tankard fell from his hand. Beer splashed over his shoes and foamed the rug. He groped for the nearest chair and crumpled into it. "Dragontalk," he murmured, staring at the floor, gripping the armrests.

My aunt gawked at Father. "How? How could this happen?"

"You tell me," I said. "That's why I asked you if I was adopted. You and Father told me, over and over, that there was no way I could ever turn into a dragonrider."

I glared from one to the other. "And now I have. So, you tell me. It can't just happen! I know that."

Father's demeanor worried me. Usually so unflappable, he was having some sort of panic attack. I regretted my bluntness. I should have led him into it gently, days ago.

"Hanrey, you're looking weird. Are you all right?" my aunt said.

Father lifted his gaze from the floor but did not look at either of us. He lurched from his seat, rushed over to the window and flung it open. He leaned out and emptied his stomach."

"Auntie?" I whispered. "Is he all right? I've never seen him like this before."

"He's in shock. Go fetch his washer and towel," she said, without taking her wide eyes off her brother.

I dashed into Father's bedroom, glad it opened off the sitting room. I grabbed the requested items and, by my return, Father was back in his armchair. Auntie passed the wet washer to him.

"Here, you better wipe that spew out of your beard or I'll be the next one with my head out the window." She giggled, nervous. "Hanrey, how can Taniel dragontalk?"