The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

by Katie MacAlister

  “No, you are not. You are my mate, and thus are a light dragon,” Baltic corrected, looking up from an architect’s plan.

  I let that go and eyed Thala curiously. She was about my height, built a bit broader than me, with coppercolored hair and dark reddish brown eyes. There was a blackish blue aura around her that warned she had control of some sort of dark power. Baltic had told me she was a necromancer, and that her mother was his former girlfriend, the famed archimage Antonia von Endres. What was more unsettling was the fact that she was also the sister to the woman I had recently learned was the true wife of the man I had married. “Did Ruth not tell you about me?”

  “Ruth?” Her lip curled in scorn. “That pretender. I haven’t spoken to her since Baltic was slain.”

  I raised my eyebrows. “I had no idea you were present at Dauva when that happened.”

  “I wasn’t.”

  “Odd, then, that you would date something to that event.”

  She turned her back on me, clearly dismissing my existence, addressing herself to Baltic instead. “If Kostich holds the light sword, then he must be keeping it at the vault at Suffrage House. That’s the best security he can hope for in France. We will simply have to get it from there. We should go to Paris immediately and see how much protection he has added.”

  “That would probably be best,” Baltic answered, a strange hesitancy in his manner. “Later. Now that Ysolde is here, however, we can discuss your experience at the hands of the weyr.”

  Thala’s hands tightened around the edge of the desk. “Surely that can wait for another time? Your woman can have no concern with what was said to me.”

  “My mate is concerned in every aspect of my life,” Baltic corrected, giving Thala a no-nonsense look. Love warmed my heart. I wanted to simultaneously cheer and kiss him, but that would no doubt enrage the woman who I was beginning to believe was more than a little jealous of my presence.

  “Oh, to hell with it,” I said, and walked over to Baltic, pulling his head down so I could kiss him. I heard a swift hiss of breath behind me as Baltic, never one to brush off a kiss, put both hands on my behind and wrapped me in dragon fire.

  “What was that for?” he asked when he had retrieved his lip from where I was sucking on it.

  “Nothing in particular. I just felt like kissing you.”

  “I approve of the sentiment,” he said, a hint of laughter in his ebony eyes. “Although I suspect that situation we discussed earlier is not as resolved as you claim it is.”

  “I’m not the jealous one here,” I whispered into his ear as I nipped on his earlobe before turning in his arms to smile at Thala.

  If looks could kill, the entire area within a ten-mile radius would have been a radioactive wasteland.

  My smile grew, more to annoy her than to appear friendly. “Much as I would love to hear what the dragons did to you, I’m afraid Baltic and I have an appointment. It’s time for us to pick up Brom.”

  “Brom?” Her fiery gaze narrowed on me again. “Who is Brom?”

  “My son. He’s been staying with Gabriel and May for the weekend.”

  “You have a son.” She was silent for a few beats before a slow smile stole over her face. “How excellent. You may go retrieve your son. We have no need of your assistance in making plans.”

  Pavel, who had been standing behind Thala, pursed his lips and shook his head.

  Behind me, Baltic stiffened, his hands under mine holding me back when I would have marched forward.

  “Oh, you did not just say that,” I said, my ire thoroughly roused.

  “Am I missing something good? Who didn’t say what? Hey, that chick you cuffed is up. Hiya. We met earlier, but you probably don’t remember me. I’m Jim. Effrijim, really, but no one calls me that except Aisling when she’s pissed about something. Don’t let this human form throw you—I’m normally much more handsome. So you’re Balter’s old girlfriend, huh? Did I interrupt a catfight about to happen? I did, didn’t I? Pavel, can I borrow your phone? It does have a camera, right? Does it do video? Man, why didn’t I think to bring my digital camera?” Jim wandered into the room with the bowl of popcorn. “This might almost make being stuck in human form worthwhile.”

  Thala looked at Jim like it had a miniature herd of rhinoceroses dancing a ballet on its head.

  “You didn’t miss anything, Jim, because Thala didn’t say anything. Did you?” I said in a calm, even tone.

  Pavel backed away several feet.

  Jim sucked in its breath and did likewise. “Uh . . . right. I can see that. Don’t turn me into a banana, please. Human form is better than that.”

  “I haven’t banana-ed anything since the sárkány,” I said with a significant look at Thala that she totally ignored.

  “Do you have any idea who I am?” She answered my threat by stepping forward, her eyes glittering with an unholy red light.

  “Yes. You’re the woman who is clearly bent out of shape over the fact that I’m back in Baltic’s life. Get over it, Thala. I may be human, but I’m also immortal, and Baltic and I are very much together. Nothing you can do will change that, so if you don’t want to force me to rain down death and destruction on your head, you’ll move on.”

  Baltic sighed heavily. “Mate, do not threaten Thala.”

  “If there is any death and destruction to be done, I will be the one performing it,” she snarled at me, her hands fisted as she took another step forward. Menace and fury rolled off her in palpable waves, but I knew a stand had to be made.

  I tried to move forward again to accept her obvious challenge; Baltic, however, held me firmly against his body. “Thala, do not threaten my mate.”

  Jim moved over to where Pavel was watching the scene. “It’s gonna be a catfight, and me with no camera! Lend me your phone, buddy. We could make a killing off the video, especially if they both go into dragon form. I’ll go fifty-fifty in the profits with you.”

  “There will be no fight,” Baltic said, glaring at Jim for a few seconds before transferring his attention to Thala. “Will there?”

  Her jaw worked angrily before she managed another one of those bloodcurdling smiles. “I only ever have your best wishes at heart, Baltic. If you desire that I ignore your woman’s insults, then I shall do so.”

  I tapped my fingers on Baltic’s hand, where it lay over one of mine.

  His sigh ruffled my hair. “There was a time when I believed that all would be peaceful once Ysolde was at my side again. I see that I was wrong.”

  I turned in his arms to give him a share of my scowl. “I am not the one who started this—”

  “Enough.” He gave me a quick, hard kiss, then turned me and gave me a gentle push toward the door. “You will no doubt wish to drive us to London, since you claim my piloting the vehicle takes years off your life. We will go to fetch our son—”

  I noticed the emphasis he put on the last words, and smiled at them.

  “—and Thala can fly to Paris to determine what new measures of security Kostich has put into place to guard the light sword.”

  Thala blinked a couple of times. “You’re not coming with me?”

  “No. I have business to attend to at Dauva, and Ysolde has extracted from me a promise to meet with the weyr, which she no doubt intends for me to fulfill soon. Once you have assessed the security, return here and we will make our plans.”

  I was about to ask Baltic why he needed to go back to Latvia when he had just returned from there, but something about the set of his jaw had me clamping down on the question. “I’ll bring the car around. Jim, get your things. Pavel, are you coming with us?”

  He shook his head, flickering a quick glance at Baltic that set off a number of warning bells in my head. “I have some things to attend to. You may exchange polite greetings with the silver guards on my behalf, if you like. Nothing too friendly, and I would prefer that the greetings are offered only after they have acknowledged my absence, since we are the older dragons and it is our due to be greet
ed before offering the same.”

  “You guys are downright archaic sometimes,” I said, shaking my head as I herded a protesting Jim and its bowl of popcorn out the door.

  Baltic claims he knows how to drive perfectly well, but experience has shown me that while he has a firm grasp on the mechanics of driving a car, he disregards all other aspects of the driving experience and thus has only a vague idea of rules of the road, laws, and even what common courtesy is with regard to other drivers. He also doesn’t give a damn about any of that, which means that usually either Pavel or I drive when we go somewhere. Luckily, I enjoy driving, even on England’s sometimes confusing roadways.

  “Jim,” I said once we had joined the throng of folks streaming toward London, “can I give you direct orders that you can’t refuse?”

  “Uh-oh. I don’t like the sound of that,” it said, looking up from one of Pavel’s risqué magazines it had filched before leaving the house. “What kind of an order?”

  “I don’t want you to hear what I’m going to say.”

  Baltic shot me a startled look.

  Jim sighed. “Yeah, you can. But I’d like to point out that I can also keep my lips zipped if I have to, so you don’t really have to order me not to hear something.”

  I thought for a moment, then shook my head, both at the driver in front of me who slammed on his brakes for no reason and at the thought of speaking my concerns in front of the demon. “Effrijim, I command you to not hear anything I say until I tell you it’s OK.”

  Jim sighed again, and buried itself in the magazine.

  “Oh, look, a hamburger place. Let’s go there and have food.”

  It didn’t even look up at my bait.

  “What is it that you don’t wish to say in front of the demon? Are you going to tell me some new way you wish for me to make love to you? Will it involve a phallic device such as Pavel has? I will warn you, mate, I do not approve of phallic devices for either of us. I do not care for such things to be used on me, and the only phallus I intend for you to entertain is—”

  I lifted my hand to stop what showed every sign of being one of Baltic’s “the old Ysolde never was into the sorts of kinky things you are into” lectures. “I don’t want a vibrator, thank you. Although those little bullet jobbies look kind of . . . never mind. You’re phallic enough for me, thank you.”

  An odd look crossed his face. “I’m not sure that is a compliment, but I assume you mean it as one.”

  “Yes, I do. How about this: you more than amply take care of any and all sexual desires I have. Better?”

  “Much.” He sat back with a smug look on his handsome face and waved a hand. “You may proceed telling me about the new fantasy you have.”

  “It’s not a fantasy. What exactly were you doing in Dauva?”

  His face went blank for a few minutes before he slid me a steamy look. “Do you have fantasies about making love in Dauva? Out in the open, perhaps? It is heavily forested now, and not visited by the locals because they believe it is haunted, so I would be willing to take you there if it would drive you to a new level of pleasure.”

  “If that’s some sort of a crack about me having voyeuristic tendencies . . .”

  He raised a hand and looked out the window. “I make no judgment, mate. I was simply offering to allow your strange new tastes some freedom; that is all. If you wish instead for me to make love to you in the lair, that is more reasonable, although we would need to bring in a blanket at the least, since the ground is quite rocky there after the centuries of disuse. Perhaps a mattress.” He paused for a few seconds and thought. “I suppose we could build a bedchamber in there if you really liked, although Kostya has stolen all of my treasures, so there would be no gold to rub all over your body.”

  “An underground love nest doesn’t appeal to me in the leas—Rub gold all over me?” My eyes went a bit glazed as I considered that thought. Although the dragon that slumbered within me must have shown the same preference for gold over all other forms of treasure, heretofore it hadn’t triggered any response in me. Now, however, just the thought of draping Baltic’s naked form with chains of gold had me shivering with arousal. “Maybe that would be nice. How much gold do you have now?”

  His smile was filled to the rim with smugness. “Not as much as I had, thanks to Kostya, but enough to satisfy your lustful demands. It is safe in my Paris lair.”

  “Perhaps—” I shook myself, dissipating the erotic images that danced so tantalizingly in my head. “We got sidetracked somehow.” An abbreviated gesture had me shooting him quick little glances as all sorts of warning bells went off in my head. “You did that deliberately, didn’t you?”

  “Brought up the subject of making love to you? I frequently discuss my desire to mate with you, Ysolde,” he said, but he couldn’t look me in the eye. He pretended to be interested in the passing scenery, which made a few more bells chime.

  “Yes, you do, and I appreciate that fact, but I also know that you don’t like saying you won’t answer a question I asked you, which is why you try to distract me with thoughts of you all warm and naked with gold chains draped across your chest and belly and . . .” My voice trailed off into a little whimper as I swallowed back a sudden wave of desire and need. “What was I saying?”

  He slid me another look, but sighed and slumped back into the seat, shaking his head. “You’d never let me hear the end of it,” he muttered. “It would be just like in Milan, when Antonia called me to her side, but I could not tell you because you would have instantly been jealous and likely lopped off my stones with the nearest sword. I had to tell you I was away on sept business just to keep you from following me.”

  “I am not the sort of person who gelds other people without due cause,” I started, then realized what it was he hadn’t said. “Wait a minute—are you saying you went off to see your former girlfriend after we were together?”

  “Not in the sense you are thinking,” he said blithely.

  “How do you know what I’m thinking?”

  He pointed to the steering wheel. “Your fingernails have dug into the leather a good half an inch.”

  I loosened my death grip on the wheel, spun it when I was about to plow us into a guard rail, and got a grip on my emotions. “What did Antonia want to see you about?”

  He was silent.

  I glanced at him. His expression was stony.

  “I see.”

  “I’m surprised you haven’t had a vision about that episode,” he said after a few more minutes of silence, during which I lovingly reviewed various forms of torture dug out from the shattered remains of my memory. “You came as close to killing an archimage as anyone ever has. It would be a worthy vision to experience.”

  An echo of a voice shouting in my head had me signaling and pulling over to a shoulder. Jim looked up inquiringly, but sighed and returned to its skin magazine when I turned to face Baltic.

  “Mate?” Baltic asked, one eyebrow raised.

  “Shush. It’s there, right on the edge of my mind. I can hear an echo of it. I want to know what happened. I want to see it. I want to be able to remember things again. I want . . .”

  It danced with tantalizing nearness, just beyond the range of my consciousness, where I could see it, but not grasp it. I closed my eyes in order to draw it into focus, but the echoes stayed fragmented and incoherent.

  “. . . shall not be! I will not . . .”

  “You have no right, dragon . . .”

  “Mate, you cannot . . .”

  I shook my head as I tried to coax the memories forward. “I’ve lost them, Baltic. I can’t even remember my own past.”

  I heard him sigh, and suddenly I was in his arms, his body warm and solid, holding me with infinite care, the scent of him seeping deep into my being. I opened my eyes to look into his, the dark, endless depths of them drawing me in and capturing me in his soul.

  “Do not do this, Ysolde. You are my love, my life. You are the very breath in my lungs, and the beat o
f my heart. I could not exist without you.”

  “She tried to steal you from me,” I heard myself say, and realized that he had done what I couldn’t do by myself—he’d pulled the vision from my hidden memories.

  “No,” the past Baltic said, his face different, yet familiar nonetheless. “No one could do that. You do not need to kill her. Do not risk that which you cannot afford, my love. She isn’t worth it.”

  I turned to look at the woman who was trapped against a stone wall, my fire surrounding her. On the edges of the shadows stood several forms, dragons and others, keeping a wary distance from the three of us. It was nighttime, the air warm and heavy with the scent of jasmine and orange blossoms, soft distant noises of the city telling me we stood some leagues from it.

  The fire was silent the way dragon fire is, burning with a brightness that lit up the immediate area despite the thick darkness around us. But it was more than mere dragon fire surrounding her; a sense of power rushed through me, pouring outward to encircle Antonia. I wanted more than anything to just let the stream of power wash over her, for I knew it would end her existence, but Baltic’s love wrapped me in a web that prohibited me from doing so. I could snap it with just a thought, but to do that would be to break our love, as well, and there was nothing on this earth that would compel me to such a sacrifice.

  “It pleases me that I have made no error in you,” a ponderous voice said from the side.

  A man strolled forward through the crowd, which parted as if he were a plow on loamy soil. Soft, startled murmurs rippled around us, trailing in his wake as he stopped in front of me. His face and eyes were ageless, all-seeing, all-knowing, as if he saw all too clearly that I was on the verge of committing an act that would forever change the path of my life.

  “Who are you?” I asked the man. He was a dragon, of that I was sure, but I didn’t recognize him or what sept he was from.