The tour took a surprisingly short time, given the sheer size of the Dragoon Cave. Ariana had taken Hestia along first, as she still seemed uncomfortable around the boys, while Shakil and Milius were left to show Frederick around; Sirius had decided to wash up and turn in for a short rest instead, leaving the task up to them, while Calder insisted that Cole be taken up to the Medical Wing for recovery.

Frederick’s reaction of mingled awe and astonishment towards various sectors of the Cave mirrored Milius’s own initial response so closely that he actually found himself smiling as they walked him through the long corridors. First they brought him to the kitchens, where they stopped for a quick snack.

Frederick did not eat much, however, as he had seemed vastly more interested in the Snoo dragons than the actual food (“They're so cute!”); when they had finished they brought him to the Courtyard, which had finally been restored to its original conditions, though the Bellator Ligneas were still standing in a distant corner (“You actually get to fight these things during your training?”); next to the bathrooms (“Ow!” he exclaimed delightedly as one of the dragon-head water taps snapped down on his hands, sinking its polished bronze fangs into his knuckles); to the Library (“They've got books on everything in here!”); and finally to the Medical Wing beside his friend Cole, where he settled into bed with a vague wave goodbye, his eyes glazed.

Milius had ultimately decided against showing him the underground structure, as he didn't think Frederick’s heart could take much more, and also because he thought the Elders wouldn't approve of it. Luckily Shakil did not bring it up during their tour, nor did he mention it at all when they had left Frederick out of earshot. They split up soon after, Shakil to the bathrooms to wash, and Milius to visit Minerva, he supposed.

Lumeus raised his magnificent head as Milius approached, his gleaming white marble eyes fixed intently upon him, almost as though he were looking through him. Before he could address the dragon, however, a voice sounded from behind him: "He's beautiful.”

He turned to see Hestia standing at the entrance to the Cave and his heart began to beat more rapidly. She had cleaned up as well, dressed in a short, dark blue dress that must have been Ariana’s, her dark hair drawn back into a tight bun. Her face was clear of tears now, and she had stopped trembling, but her arms were drawn tightly across her chest and she looked nervous.

“They all are, I mean,” she said. “But this one has a ruggedness to it that I like. He's yours, isn't he?”

“Yes,” Milius said, and to his intense embarrassment, his voice issued rather higher than normal. Hastily clearing his throat he added, “Yes, he's mine. His name’s Lumeus, he's the dragon of —”

“— lightning,” Hestia finished for him. “We've heard of the Dragonknights in our country,” she added, in response to Milius’s raised eyebrows. “They're quite famous in many parts of the world. When the last Knighting Ceremony took place, we heard that someone much younger than usual had been chosen. That's you, isn't it? Milius Manchester?”

Milius nodded shakily. The revelation that Milius’s name and news of his unconventional Knighting had been spread so widely unnerved him, but Hestia disregarded his uneasiness and took a tentative step forward, and another, then she broke into a swift but oddly jerky walk. A moment later she was standing right beside him, gazing up at Lumeus, who was staring right back down at her, almost appraisingly. “Were you about to fly?” she asked, her voice a little strained, still looking carefully up at Lumeus.

“I — I was, yes. My mother lives in the next town over, I was going to visit her.”

“Excellent,” a voice said as Hestia opened her mouth to speak. Both she and Milius started and turned around. Calder was striding serenely towards them, smiling.

“Elder,” Milius said, nodding. “Can I help you with something?”

“You know, I do believe you can. Frederick’s wounds are, unfortunately, a bit more severe than we had initially believed, Milius,” said the old man.

“What do you mean? Has something happened? Is he all right?” Hestia said at once.

Calder waved an airy hand, still smiling. “No, no, dear girl. He is all right for now, but Shakil has recently enlightened us on the effects of Hellhound claws. We’ve never encountered them ourselves, you see. Apparently, wounds they inflict are a little harder to heal than we had initially thought, and require a bit more assistance to be properly cleaned and remedied. Would you be so kind as to take this list to Marlise and procure the necessary ingredients for the tonic, Milius?” he asked, producing a slip of paper from his sleeve.

“Of course,” he said, withdrawing it from Calder's wizened fingers.

“Excellent. With luck, she will have everything we need in stock. Goodness knows we can't afford another excursion for ingredients.”

Milius felt himself flush, but Calder merely smiled. As he set off back to the Cave, Milius turned to Lumeus, but to his slight surprise, Hestia said swiftly, “May I go with you? I mean, Frederick is my cousin, and I — I — just want to make sure that he'll be all right.”

She did not quite meet his eyes as she said it, and once again he felt that unpleasant lurching sensation in his stomach.

“Oh — yeah, sure, you can come,” he gabbled.

Lumeus lowered his head and Milius climbed up, relieved to be back on the familiar, rugged hide he so preferred, and then helped Hestia up as well. She settled behind him, her hands clasped rather tightly around his waist.

“Er — let's go, Lumeus!”

The dragon flapped its enormous wings and took off in the direction of the town, moving as fast as Milius had ever seen him go. Hestia screamed, but Milius, turning, saw not terror in her expression, not mirth. Smiling, she pried one of her hands from his waist and removed the pin securing her bun; her dark brown hair fell out of its knob and streamed out behind her, rippling in the sunlight. Milius grinned too, turning back to the sight ahead of them, feeling the wind stir his own shock of dark hair.

For a moment it felt as though the tension that had risen like a wall between them had been blown away by the breeze, lost in the dragon's slipstream. But then the glinting caduceus sprouting from the top of Marlise’s ward swam into view, Lumeus began to slow, and Milius felt awkwardness rise in him once more.

Milius cleared his throat. “Er . . . here we are.”

Usually, Milius would have had to launch himself from the dragon’s back and jump the remaining distance, seeing as Lumeus was too large to land anywhere in the cluttered block, but now Lumeus approached much closer than normal, lowering his head towards the ground so that the jump seemed doable even without his armour.

“We'll have to jump,” Milius said. “Do you want me to go firs —?”

“No,” she said quickly, and she clutched firmly at his arm.

Milius felt the flush rising in his cheeks again and hurriedly averted his face. “Well . . . we'll go together then,” he muttered. “On three. . . . One . . . two . . . three.”

They leapt, Hestia still holding firmly onto Milius; they staggered on landing, but Milius managed to right himself just before he fell, and kept them both on balance. Hestia laughed again. Next moment she looked up and their eyes met; she let go of his hand and recoiled as though burned, fixing her gaze upon the floor.

“You can go,” Milius said to Lumeus after an awkward pause, and the dragon disappeared obediently into the distance.

“Well, it's just in here,” he added, rather unnecessarily, pointing at the bright green, cobblestone building. She nodded and they strode up the staircase and into the reception area. A woman and her child were sitting upon the velvet seat that Milius had occupied not too long ago, and an elderly woman was leading a man that could only have been her husband out of the room and towards the door. The receptionist, who had been talking pleasantly to another of Marlise’s employees, looked up as the door opened; her eyes found Milius and her smile melted.

“Back again, are you?” she said coldly.

“Erm — yes, I'm here to see Marlise, the Elders sent me,” Milius said tremulously.

“She's through there," said the receptionist, pointing at the door behind her desk. Milius muttered a hasty thanks and lead Hestia into the back room, the receptionist glaring at him all the while. The wards were just as they had been when Milius had first entered: dimly lit, dark-walled, and immaculately tidy. Back then, most of the rooms had been empty; now, however, almost all of them were occupied.

On their left side, through the glass, Milius spotted an old man lying on a small, linen-draped bed, staring to his right and speaking fluently to what seemed to be a second, invisible occupant. On their left, a young girl, pale as Milius’s cousin, Regulus, and emaciated, with wispy hair, was looking right at him through sunken eyes.

Hestia clutched at his arm again and he hastily sped along the hallway. He slowed down when he heard Marlise’s voice issuing from a room just ahead of them, and they stopped at the door, looking apprehensively inside.

Her patient was about as old as Sirius, with a large bandage covering most of what was visible of his chest. Marlise had lifted it tenderly and was surveying the wound beneath. “Well, the stitching is holding up quite nicely,” she said, pleased. “Just a few more doses of Healing Solution and you'll be out of here perfectly fine soon enough. Though I would recommend you use wooden swords at your following practice sessions, from now on" she added, sounding stern and disapproving.

She fixed the bandage back over his chest and turned away from him, but stopped short at the sight of Milius and Hestia.

“Milius!” she said warmly. “How are you? And you’ve brought a friend, too! Wait —” Her smile, like her receptionist’s, faltered at once. “Is it Minerva?” she demanded in a suddenly urgent voice. “Did she forget to take her potion again, or has something else —?”

“No, no, she's fine!” Milius said hastily. “No one's hurt this time — well, not seriously anyway.”

“Oh, well, that's wonderful news. But then, what are you doing here if no one’s in trouble?”

“Calder asked me to fetch these,” he said, extending the slip of parchment. She took it, her eyes sped the length of it, and then she uttered a little gasp.

“Hellhound claws?” she said, looking shocked. Milius nodded grimly. With what seemed to be an enormous effort, she pulled herself back together. “I'll gather these up at once," she said. "I'll need a few minutes to find them." She pelted past them and disappeared around a corner.

“Come on, we can wait in the reception area,” Milius said, casting an uneasy eye around at the strange-looking patients. As they started along the path, Hestia asked, “This woman — Minerva — is she your mother?”

Milius nodded. “Yes, unfortunately she has a magical affliction. Marlise has managed to create some medicine that works well to dull the effects, but it's not permanent.”

“Oh . . . I'm sorry.” And she truly looked it. “And also,” she said suddenly, “I'm sorry about the way I treated you and your friends back in the forest.”

Milius grinned. “It's fine. You were scared, and the swords didn't exactly present a reassuring sight, I imagine.”

She gave him a watery smile in response. “So . . . as a Dragonknight . . . you'd be going to the Royal Wedding, wouldn't you?”

“I am. Would you like to come with me?’

The words had left his mouth before he even knew what he was saying. He stopped dead in his tracks and looked down at her, horrified, but to his astonishment, she smiled up at him. “Oh . . . yes! Sure!”

His feelings of shock fading, Milius beamed down at her, but then they entered the now-crowded reception area and silence fell between them again. Moments later Marlise rounded the corner, carrying a large, fully stocked bag. Once Milius had taken it and they were safely outside, he found himself staring down the path towards his old home, but his legs seemed strangely reluctant to follow his line of sight.

“Aren’t you going to see your mother?”

He hesitated, marshaling his thoughts. A moment later, he put his fingers to his lips and whistled. As Lumeus came zooming into view, Milius grinned down at Hestia again. “Nah, I'm sure she'll understand.”