The thing only worked for a dragon in human form, and the bolts were no more dangerous to non-magical creatures than a normal projectile—which was to say, sometimes fatal, sometimes not—but if they hit a dragon, the magic wrapped around the bolt was unleashed, causing an explosion large enough to rival modern human weaponry. Definitely large enough to destroy the dragon.
If it were to be used in some kind of assassination attempt—as it had been when he’d captured it in the first place—it was effective enough to be dangerous. But ultimately, it wasn’t a weapon that would cause many casualties.
“Perhaps my cousin is reconsidering his ban on the use of artifacts in combat.” Owain looked down the ugly cardinal red dragon at his feet. It was one thing he and Rhys had agreed on years ago. The artifacts were far too powerful, and to use them was to create a situation that could seriously diminish their already-depleted people.
Rhys had proposed the idea, but Owain had readily agreed. Every dragon that died was one dragon less he would have for his war against the humans. He had to consider every life that he took so very carefully.
Not that it stopped them from using artifacts when he and Rhys tried to kill each other. Interestingly, Jiang had reported the loss of a similar artifact days ago. She’d sent soldiers to kill Rhys and his Wingless when they left Eryri with two guards—idiots. It had been a good idea. Unfortunately, it hadn’t worked.
“That isn’t the only message, Majesty,” the messenger said, starting Owain out of his reverie.
“What else?” Owain snapped.
“Rhys ap Ayen has located the Sunrise Dragon on an island in the Bering Sea. He’s headed that way with ten vees to capture the artifact.”
Owain’s heart froze. There hadn’t been a battle on that scale in at least ten years—not since the last time Owain had thought he was closing in on the Sunrise Dragon in Rhys’s territory and attacked. Now, apparently, Rhys was going to do the same.
He turned away from the cowering Draig. “Demba!”
The Bida appeared. Since allowing Jiang to sacrifice Kavar like a pawn, Demba had been promoted. He was good, but he wasn’t Kavar. Blood of the Ancients, what Owain wouldn’t give to have his friend back. He never should have given Jiang permission to spring that trap.
“Ready eight vees and give them all enough cordial for a battle. We’re going to war.”
* * *
They arrived at Mair’s hideout—as Seren had decided to call it—five days after leaving Eryri. It was so late, she couldn’t make out anything about it except that it was cold and everything smelled like snow and pine.
The next morning, Seren woke to the sound of singing.
Or she thought she did. By the time she came fully awake, the music had stopped.
She spat the veil from her mouth and sat up. She’d been so exhausted from the flight—the rogues had set a faster pace than she was used to—that when Rajani had shown her to a room she’d collapsed into bed, intending to undress after she’d laid down for a moment. A moment had turned into an entire night of sleep, and now she was trapped in the veil like a net.
She disentangled herself carefully. In her adventures among humans, she dared to go without it. Not here. Here, the veil was power. The only thing that gave her leverage among a people loyal to Mair.
At the thought, Seren sighed. Deryn was right. What kind of person couldn’t trust her own mother?
The singing started again, and Seren went still, gripping the veil in both hands. She knew that voice, though the tune it sang now was the exotic, unpredictable up and down of Naga music. The last time she’d heard him sing, he’d been barely able to stand the confined space of the elevator.
She stood and straightened her borrowed dress—she’d gone after Deryn so quickly she hadn’t had any clothes of her own—then pushed open the door to her room. Light streamed in through the vast windows, the banistered walkways of the upper floor suspended over the central chasm, a few dragons visible in the dimness at the bottom.
And there, by the open fire pit that made up the only intact part of the first floor, stood Cadoc.
Her breath caught. Unable to look away, Seren descended the stairs.
A pretty Naga woman sat on the floor next to him, playing a sitar. Someone else had found a drum. A small crowd had gathered to watch them. The woman’s fingers flew over the sitar strings as Cadoc’s rich voice flowed over the notes in a wavery, droning cry that changed from moment to moment.
Beautiful.
The music ended, and the dragons and Wingless surrounding the performers applauded. Cadoc bowed, sweeping out his left hand, keeping his right pressed against his stomach. Seren could see his profile. Tousled black hair, a week’s growth of beard—though he had trimmed it since she’d seen him last—and humor playing around his lips.
As always, her heart nearly stopped at the sight of him.
A Derkin woman leaned toward him, whispering in his ear. Cadoc laughed.
Now at the bottom of the stairs, Seren raised her chin and cleared her throat.
The dragons nearest the stairs turned first. Some gasped, all bowed, two hands pressed to their foreheads. Like a fire that caught and spread, the bow swept the room until it reached the circle of people gathered around the musicians. In the silence, Cadoc turned.
A look of surprise crossed his face. Then one of anger. Like the others, he bowed. Unlike everyone else, his right hand remained hidden in the folds of his clothing.
“Good morning, Seren.” Mair had emerged from her office. She spoke, her voice discordant in the still aftermath of the music. “I trust you slept well.”
“Well enough.” Seren didn’t allow her eyes to linger on Mair, but swept the room with her gaze. “Please, rise.”
They rose. Cadoc’s face, Seren noted, was flushed. Even from here, she could see his eyes snapping with anger.
Mair moved toward the stairs, her stately pace perhaps a touch more hurried than usual. With a grimace she couldn’t quite hide, Mair said, “Lady Seeress, will you join me?” Her voice softened. “I should very much like to spend time with you as well as your sister.”
Seren studied Mair through the veil, her heart aching to say yes. To trust the woman in front of her. Surely, then, that meant spending time together would be appropriate. “Yes, that would be lovely.”
Mair smiled, and it seemed genuine. Seren felt a small, long-dead ember in her heart spark to life.
Mother.
Of course, no matter what Mair did, she would never be Seren’s true mother. That title belonged to Iolani.
Around them, dragons went back to their business. Talking, reading, sunning by the windows. All except one, who moved toward them with purpose. Cadoc inclined his head slightly toward Mair, then dropped to one knee and touched his fingers of his left hand to his forehead. It was the incorrect salute. Left hand was for royalty, right hand for the Seeress. But no one present commented.
Cadoc kept his gaze on the ground. “Golden Lady, I would speak to you. Alone.”
His scent drifted through the veil, and even months away from the shop where he crafted his own instruments hadn’t completely erased the smell of cedar wood and lemon oil. Knowing he was going to lecture her, Seren pushed down the niggling feeling of discomfort. “Stand up, awenydd.”
Cadoc rose, arresting her with those eyes. She met him glare for glare. He shifted his weight and broke eye contact. “Please, Seren,” he muttered.
She nodded, gave Mair a cool, “Mother,” then glided over to a cluster of unoccupied chairs by one of the large windows that showed nothing but snowy pine forest. She found a chair in a patch of warm sunshine and sat. Sliding her hands into the bell-like openings of her sleeves, she put on an air of serenity.
Cadoc followed, but remained standing. He paced, his movements a frenzied flurry. “Sun
der it, what are you doing here?”
Seren looked placidly in to the distance. “I am checking on the state of my people. It’s my duty.”
“Your duty?” Cadoc snorted. “Ancients, Seren, your duty is to keep yourself safe and out of Owain’s hands. I just got you back to Eryri.” He lowered himself so he could look Seren in the face. “I—we—that is, our people can’t lose you.”
Seren resisted the urge to brush a stray strand of hair out of those stunning purple eyes. Ancients, did he have idea how beautiful he was? “You haven’t lost me, I’m here.”
Cadoc made an exasperated sound. “How did you get here?”
“I followed Deryn. And then we were...escorted.”
A line creased the skin between Cadoc’s brows. “You followed Deryn? Of all the sundering things—where is she?”
“Asleep, I imagine.”
Cadoc pressed his knuckles into his eyes. “What was she thinking?”
Seren frowned. “That she wanted to see her mother.” She paused, considering Cadoc. Something had been nagging her since she’d come out of her room and seen him.
No. It had been before that, even. Since she’d woken up to the sound of him singing. “You seem different from the last time we were together.”
His grin was brilliant and slightly wicked. “Do I?”
Hope swelled. “You broke the curse!”
His smile faltered. “No. But I did find the blood charm. Not that it does me any good. I have no family and no heartsworn, so I still can’t go home.”
Home. The word spilled from his lips filled with patient, persistent ache.
Seren ached to smooth the sadness from his face. “You’ve been missed.”
His voice was soft, surprised. “Have I?”
She swallowed. “More than you can imagine.”
Cadoc looked away. “How are they? How is Ffion?”
Seren tucked her hands in her sleeves and forced her voice to be light. “You’d do better to ask Deryn. She’s the one who gets to spend time with them.”
“Cadoc!”
Seren sat back and Cadoc straightened. She hadn’t realized how close they’d been leaning, their heads together as if sharing an intimate secret.
Deryn stood at the top of the stairs. She leapt down the entire flight and threw her arms around Cadoc. He staggered back under the assault and had to take his bad hand out of his pocket to catch her.
Seren caught a glimpse of his hand, still warped, the fingers gnarled into immobile claws. She looked away and he regained his balance and shoved it out of sight. At least he was laughing.
“Stars, it’s the royal terror. Everyone run before she jumps off a barn and tries to kiss you.” Cadoc hugged Deryn with one arm.
She punched Cadoc in the shoulder. “Terror? Me? Only since you’ve gotten so scrawny I could blow you over like an autumn leaf.”
Cadoc lunged for her, and Deryn skipped back out of his way. “Ancients, and you’re slow. What have you been doing for three months? Lying about?”
“You know me. Saving damsels. Not quite breaking curses.”
Deryn froze. “You’ve almost broken the curse? What do you need to do?”
* * *
It took a massive effort of will for Cadoc not to sneak glances at Seren—Lady Seren, sunder it—out of the corner of his eye.
You’ve been missed. More than you can imagine.
No. He had to focus on the task at hand. Break the curse. Go home.
He told them the story of finding Izel, coming to Mair, and stealing the blood charm from Owain. Then he told them how Mair—the closest thing he’d ever had to a mother—had tried to break the curse with her own blood and failed.
Deryn was thoughtful. “Mother tried to break it? But you haven’t seen her in a thousand years. And even when we lived in Eryri, she was hardly family to you.”
Cadoc nodded. He’d come to the same conclusion himself. He shook his head. “I’ve done well enough here. Mair has offered me a place. I’ll—” He glanced at Seren, then away. “I’ll stay until I’m heartsworn. I’ll have to find someone sooner or later. And once I do, I can come home.”
“Oh.” Seren’s voice was soft. She was silent for a moment. “Cadoc, just because Mair—Mother—tried and failed doesn’t mean you should give up. I know you and I don’t know each other well...”
Cadoc had to hide a flinch. Quiet, gentle Seren. If the curse could be broken by the object of his secret lovesick foolishness—
“But you and Deryn have been as close as kin for nearly a thousand years. You fight together, eat together, camp together. You’re closer to each other than I am to Deryn, and she’s my own blood.”
Shocked, Cadoc looked at Deryn. She was staring back, wide-eyed. “Do you think it would work?”
He shook his head. “If it didn’t work with Mair—”
Deryn snorted. “You’re my scalebrained moron of an adopted brother a thousand times more than you’ve ever been her son. Where is this rock? Let’s try it.”
Crushing the tiny spark of hope before it could grow large enough to burn, Cadoc pulled the charm from his pocket.
Deryn grabbed his wrist and tugged him up the stairs. “Mother!” she called.
Mair appeared in the doorway of her office. “Aderyn?” She looked from Deryn to Cadoc. “What is it?”
“Mother, I need a knife.”
Mair looked from Deryn to Cadoc in surprise. Then she saw the stone in Cadoc’s hand and smiled. “I see.” She gestured to them to follow her. “You beat me to it, Aderyn. I had planned to suggest this when you were all awake.”
Cadoc frowned. “You...planned this?” He looked at Deryn. “Is this why you’re here?”
Deryn shrugged. “No. I didn’t even know you were here.”
“How...fortuitous,” Seren said from the door, her arms folded into the wide openings of her sleeves. Cadoc was struck with a longing to see her face more clearly. She was too hard to read behind the veil.
“Here.” Mair pulled out the same bowl as she had when she had tried to end Cadoc’s curse herself, then put out a hand. Cadoc handed her the stone. “Now, the dagger.” She handed the small, hooked silver blade to Deryn and set the bowl on the table. She nearly dropped it, and it fell on the hard wood of her desk with a loud thump.
“Clumsy,” Mair said, smiling. She dropped the red stone into the bowl.
As Mair had done, Deryn drew the dagger across her palm without a second of hesitation. Blood welled in a crimson line. She held it over the stone.
Drip. Drip. Drip.
The stone began to melt.
Cadoc’s jaw fell open. All the hope and want that he’d shoved into the deep, dark recesses of his mind came flooding back. He couldn’t believe what he was seeing. But as Deryn’s blood continued to plink softly onto the stone, it shrank and dissolved into nothing.
Closing his eyes, Cadoc brought his friend’s face into focus and thought, Rhys.
Nothing happened.
“Rhys,” he muttered. “Rhys ap Ayen ap Thân.”
Nothing. No ice. No voices.
He was free.
* * *
Seren thought her sister might launch herself at Cadoc again. He stared at the bowl, shock and joy on his face. “It worked! It’s broken!”
Seren tried to smile with them, but couldn’t seem to make it stick. Deryn and Cadoc had been intent on the red stone in the bowl. They hadn’t seen, as Seren had, that Mair had slid something silver up her sleeve. They hadn’t heart the tiny snick of a latch closing at the same moment the blood charm had begun to dissolve.
Deryn did a small dance, spinning in place with her hands in the air. “I knew it! I told you, I knew it! I told you, fy mrawd. My brother. This is perfect! Now you can come with
us!”
Seren scolded herself for being paranoid. The blood charm was crimson, not silver. Whatever Mair had been doing, it had nothing to do with Cadoc.
“That’s my plan, as soon as I can arrange an escort.” His eyes slid back and forth from Deryn to Seren. “Ancients, the pair of you. What were you thinking?” Despite his words, he didn’t stop smiling.
Deryn gave him an arch look. “I’m here to see my mother, scalebrain.” She put an arm around Mair, who closed her eyes and hugged Deryn as if she were the most precious thing in the world. Deryn continued, “And Rhys will be coming, and it’s going to be perfect. Don’t worry about an escort. I believe I’ve got that covered.”
Cadoc didn’t seem to be listening. To Seren, it was as if he’d been sleeping. Even when he’d found her at the hospital, it hadn’t been Cadoc, only Cadoc’s shadow. Now he had woken, and it was as if he couldn’t stand still.
“I’ll contact him and tell you I’ve got you. Then he won’t have to come. Sunder it, a handful of dragons won’t be enough.” Cadoc rubbed the back of his neck with his good hand, his brows furrowed. “We’re in Owain’s territory. We’ll have to take at least a whole vee and fly day and night without stopping. Maybe two vees.”
Deryn exchanged sly smiles with her mother.
Mair spoke. “You are not going to contact Rhys, and you are not going to take them home.”
Cadoc looked from Deryn to Mair. “What do you mean?”
Mair grasped his arm. “We are going to meet Rhys. Deryn came to convince me to discuss an alliance. Rhys is on his way. We were only waiting for the last piece to fall into place—hoping that it would, really, and now it has. We can set out as soon as the three of you are ready. This place isn’t exactly large enough for the number of guests I’m expecting.”
Deryn practically bounced. “Oh, Mother, thank you! I know you won’t regret this.”
Mair smiled indulgently at Deryn. “It will be the best thing I’ve ever done. A mother does what she can for the children she loves.” She winked and pulled out a broken stone. “Like figuring this out.”
Deryn pulled the other half of the same gemstone from a pocket. Seren frowned. “I don’t understand.”
Shadow of Flame Page 30
