Donar huffed, “I know.”
“And of course, you know which one of us is going to have to talk to the mediates now and try to spin damage control.”
Donar held up his hand, aggravated, in a gesture of surrender. “Yes, yes, I know!”
“Can I trust you to entertain Brianne while I go and try to mitigate what just happened?”
Donar looked over at Brianne, who stepped to his side supportively and took him by one arm. He found her touch decidedly soothing at the moment.
“Yes, go on ahead. Talk to them. They’ll be wanting a statement from me too. The ones you’re not busy with will come right to me, I’m sure.”
“Try not to give them anything more to work with, will you?”
“I’ll do my best,” Donar sighed.
Conran spun on his heel and walked off into the party beyond, leaving his brother with Brianne.
“Are all your parties like this?” she asked.
Donar did not answer. He just looked up, mortified, as if asking some ancient dragon divinity for the strength to make it through the rest of the evening.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Just as Conran predicted, those attending members of the media that he was not wrangling made their way directly to Donar. Brianne decided that she did not care for any of this kind of attention this evening. Feeling a bit guilty for abandoning Donar, she excused herself from his side only to encounter still other mediates wanting to ask her about her work, about the conservatory and the status of Damara—the only kinds of questions that the media should have been asking this evening, and the only kinds of questions she really cared to answer.
When their queries came round to her opinion of what had just happened between the Quist brothers and their uncle, Brianne discreetly answered that the little row was an internal matter of the Quist family and that she had only just arrived on Lacerta and did not know them well enough to comment. That seemed to keep the journalists at bay, at least for the moment.
Presently, Brianne found herself talking more about her work and her travels in the galaxy, not with mediates but with other guests who were there for no purpose but to enjoy the occasion and the Quists’ hospitality. This let Brianne relax just a bit, though she kept scanning the assembled party guests to see where Conran and Donar had gone. When she lost sight of them, she began to feel a bit adrift, which made the star-strewn night outside the windows look more than a little inviting.
At the first opportunity, Brianne quietly excused herself and let herself out of the ballroom through a rear portal, checking over her shoulder to make sure she wasn’t being observed. Just a little bit of alone time, in spite of it being a party, was what she needed just then to settle herself and collect her thoughts for another round of celebrating and socializing.
The exterior of the mansion after dark, illuminated by the night lighting, was breathtaking. The estate, set as it was into the mountain and turned pitch dark when the stars were out, was two tiers of golden-white stone with gleaming lights set into them and an uppermost tier with a transparent dome similar to, but much smaller than, the one of the conservatory habitat.
With its pillars and arches and terraces, it resembled an immense wedding cake, lit with candles, set into a field of black velvet under a canopy of smoky indigo blue with tiny diamonds scattered across it. The brothers had sent her holoscans of the way their home looked at this hour, so Brianne knew the way it looked from outside.
On the grounds themselves, it looked just as magical. Each level of the mansion’s exterior had its own walkway of marble, polished to a shimmer, that led into balconies and terraces. Some of these were open; others, which extended from bedrooms and other personal spaces, were accessible only from inside the mansion. All along the paths lay planted trees and gardens and reflecting pools and fountains.
Everything was quiet except for the soft splashing of the water from the fountains into the pools. This was good—good for Brianne just to think. She appreciated this after the confrontation that had nearly turned her reception into a dragon fight; just a chance to be alone with her thoughts, alone in the perfectly climate-controlled night air under the stars. The tranquility felt good.
Feeling a bit like a princess in a storybook in this setting, Brianne strolled along, thinking about getting back to work in the morning, hoping there would not be too much news coverage of the unpleasantness of the reception, looking forward to the whole thing blowing over as just a minor incident, never to be remarked upon again.
Yes, by this time tomorrow, the known galaxy would have something else to occupy its attention, and Brianne would be grateful to have nothing to concentrate on but her work and being in this place. At this moment, dressed as she was, feeling like a princess rather than a scientist, it was all just so peaceful. And so romantic.
At the end of the walkway on the lowest level of the mansion exterior, a stairway led up to the next level. Dreamily, Brianne climbed up the stairs, just to admire the architecture a little more. No doubt the second level, and the third, looked much the same as the first. After a bit of a stroll up there, she would remember her manners and go back down to her party.
She would have to go back. The serving staff would be bringing out dinner, and she would be expected. It would not do for the guest of honor to be absent at her own dinner. But first, for now, just a little more of a walk by herself. She’d go back down to dinner after this, she promised herself. Just a little walk now was all she wanted.
As she expected, Brianne found the second level much the same as the first: the same shiny path of stone, the same white marble railings, the same planted trees and gardens and fountains. It was only when she had leisurely passed about halfway down the path that she found one thing different.
Sitting at the edge of a fountain, in the middle of which water poured from a dragon statue, was a figure—a male figure. Brianne stopped, startled, both at the presence of the figure and the familiarity. She paused there, wondering whether to interrupt him or just turn quietly around and leave him in the same peace she had wanted for herself. On an impulse, she decided and called out his name.
“Donar?”
The handsome blond Lacertan, who had been sitting looking out at the stars, broke his concentration and looked in her direction. Donar smiled softly at Brianne. “Hello there.”
“Hello,” Brianne replied. “What are you doing up here?”
“My guess is the same thing you are. Taking a break from everything and everyone after what happened.”
Brianne went to him and sat herself down at the edge of the fountain beside him. “It was kind of a mortifying scene, wasn’t it?”
“That’s one good way to put it. ‘Mortifying’ behavior. Especially my part in it. I was an idiot. For a dragon, I can be such an ass.”
“What do you mean?”
“You were there. You saw. I never should have let Uncle Xorian bait me that way. I never should have risen to the bait. But the things he said—especially in front of you. He had no business speaking that way. At a party or any other time, that was uncalled for.”
“You said it yourself,” said Brianne. “He did bait you. He taunted you and provoked you, and he did it deliberately. He wanted you to get angry that way in front of the entire party. He wanted to create a scene like that. It’s not your fault.”
“If I’d been thinking more clearly, I would have seen what he was doing. I let him bait me. He wanted to get a rise out of me, and I gave him exactly what he wanted. Ever since his disgrace, he’s been a bitter old dragon, curled up in his cave, angry at the universe, and it’s his own damn fault, he and our cousins. They hunted endangered animals, broke interplanetary law, and acted as if they had a right to do it.
They got what was coming—no, they got a pass because our nest is wealthy and could buy them out of what they had coming. And still, Uncle Xorian acts as if we wronged him. And he said those things. Damn him, anyway…”
Brianne touched him on the arm, under
standing. “You know something? I don’t blame you one bit for the way you reacted. Your uncle was out of line, totally. He had no right. He wasn’t invited; he crashed the party, and there was nothing appropriate about anything he did or said. To be honest, I half wished I could have gone dragon on him myself.”
Donar’s mood broke like the night into dawn. He smiled and almost laughed. “I can see that. I can just imagine that. Do you know something? I think you would make a great dragon. I can see you that way. You’d be a very great, proud dragon.”
Casting her eyes away, smiling but mildly embarrassed, Brianne said, “Please…”
Putting his fingers under her chin, Donar turned her face back to his. “No. Truly, you would. I think if you for some reason stopped taking the inhibitors and let the waters work on you, you’d make a truly outstanding dragon. Not that you would stop taking them; you have no reason to. You’re a perfectly fine human. But if you became one of us…that would be really something to see.”
Brianne felt deeply touched both by Donar’s words and the sincerity with which he said them. “That’s so sweet. That’s so kind. Thank you.”
They paused now, looking at one another very appreciatively. There was no sound but the laughter of the softly splashing water in the fountain behind them.
Reluctantly breaking the mood, Brianne said, “Your uncle…those attitudes of his, they’re something very old. Something that really ought to be obsolete in this day and age, but I don’t know…somehow, that kind of thinking is still around. There’s not as much of it as there used to be, but it’s still there.”
“What do you mean?” Donar asked.
“Well, you must know the history of Earth,” said Brianne. “Ever since very ancient times—I mean, very ancient—there have always been people who thought man—and specifically man, male humans—were the masters of nature. And woman, not incidentally. They thought their spiritual faith made man the master of nature and woman. To them, because of what their faith told them, the world and everything in it was e for men to do with it whatever they wanted. Harness it, control it, hunt it, kill it, whatever. And dominate it, conquer it. That was what the world was about, they thought.
People have mostly gotten over that. They had to get over it, or Earth wouldn’t have survived, and we wouldn’t be out here now. But every so often, every here and there, you still find some of that kind of thinking. Maybe it doesn’t have the same supernatural, spiritual baggage that it used to have. But sometimes, you find it’s still there. Your uncle—he’s one of the few who still holds onto that kind of thinking.”
“Yes,” Donar agreed. “And his sons, our cousins. He taught them to think the same way. Conran and I saw it and heard it, growing up with them, the way they talked, the way they felt. It’s why we grew apart from them as we got older. They were just too much Uncle Xorian’s sons. Uncle Xorian is right about one thing: they are our scales and blood. But maybe what happened was inevitable. Maybe this is what they were coming to all along, being cast out of the nest. Maybe there was no other way to go, after all. It makes me sad. Tonight, it made me angry. But it makes me sad.”
Now, Brianne touched his hand as he rested it at the edge of the pool. She put her hand on his, and they shared their mutual warmth. Donar looked up from their hands together into her eyes and found them as warm as their shared touch.
“May I tell you something?” he asked.
“Of course, yes,” she replied.
“I’m…proud. I’m very proud…that we chose to sponsor your project. I think it was the right thing for us to do.”
“I’m very grateful that you did,” said Brianne. “I don’t think I could have found better backers than you and Conran. You’ve been wonderful every step of the way, right from the initial proposal. You’ve shown me the best support I could have had. You’ve made everything perfect. That’s what it’s been, even tonight with all of that downstairs. It’s been perfect—because of the two of you.”
Almost unaware that he was doing it, Donar took his hand from under Brianne’s and laced his fingers together with hers. “You know,” he said, “Torado IV reminds me a lot of the way Lacerta must have been when our ancestors first came here: totally wild, totally natural, with no sentient life, just the wildlife. The lost human colonists came here and had no choice but to claim this wild planet for themselves. And at the same time…the planet claimed them.”
Brianne nodded. “You belong to Lacerta as much as Lacerta belongs to you.”
“Yes,” said Donar. “This is our world—and we are its dragons.”
They were silent again, just looking at each other, just feeling the coil of their fingers together and the perfection of the warm air.
Donar began again: “You like our planet, don’t you?”
“Yes,” Brianne said. “It’s a beautiful planet. Your people have made it a wonderful place. I see your respect for nature everywhere. You’ve taken exactly what you needed from the planet and nothing more. You’ve worked with nature to make it the way it is. So many planets I’ve seen, they’re beautiful in their own way.
But they’re…technologically beautiful, maybe that’s the best way to put it. Lacerta is…naturally beautiful. You’ve made the most comfortable life here, but you’ve done it with nature. I admire that.”
“I’m glad you think so,” said Donar. “I’m glad because of the length of your project. You’re going to be here a long time, helping with the continuing building of the habitats and the breeding of the cralowogs. For a long, important project, you should be in a place you like.”
“And admire,” said Brianne.
“Yes. And a place you admire—the way I admire you.”
A tiny spike of anxious caution struck Brianne’s heart. “Donar…,” she began.
He tightened his fingers with hers. “No, truly, Brianne. I admire you. I admire your passion for what you do. I admire your admiration for our planet. You say you think our planet is beautiful. I say…you’re beautiful.”
Brianne tried to pull her hand away. Donar did not let her. He kept Brianne’s hand right where it was, her fingers laced and entwined with his. “Donar,” she said, her accelerating heartbeat starting to make her feel breathless. “You shouldn’t…”
“Yes, I should,” he insisted. “It’s real. It’s honest. It’s the way I feel. I admired you and thought you were beautiful right from the beginning. I’m not sorry I said it. After tonight, I refuse to be sorry. I let some other feelings out when I shouldn’t have done it, and I regret it. I don’t regret being honest about my feelings now. You are beautiful, Brianne.”
She shut her eyes, as if not looking at him would still her heart and cool down the warmth she felt coursing through her skin. It did not work. Then, Brianne felt the fingers of Donar’s free hand under her chin again. She spoke his name. “Donar…”
And that was all that Brianne had the chance to say before he leaned forward, brought his parted lips to hers, and took her in a kiss as warm as the Lacertan night air.
Brianne could not move. She could do nothing but let Donar slip his hand from hers and wrap his arms around her, pulling her closer and deeper into his kiss. He held her that way, melting his lips to hers, for a deliciously lingering moment.
When at last he let them slip free of the kiss and still kept her close to him, all that Brianne could think to say was, “You know, I think dinner is being served downstairs.”
“To the inferno with dinner,” said Donar. “I want this.” And he kissed her again. This time, Brianne gave herself all the more into it, embracing him as he did her. She could not help herself. She did not want to help herself—to anything but what was happening at this moment.
To their mutual regret, something did happen. A trilling sound came from the gold trim on Donar’s skin suit. Donar ignored it at first and continued pressing his lips to Brianne, until she somewhat grudgingly broke the kiss herself and asked, “Aren’t you going to get that?”
“I don
’t want to,” he replied, licking her lips.
“You probably should,” she said, vainly resisting his licks.
With a sigh and a grunt, Donar pulled back and touched his trim. A flash of light leapt from his suit and expanded into the image of Conran, sternly asking, “Donar, where in the burning inferno are you?”
“I needed to get away for a bit,” Donar replied, frustrated. “I was tired of people’s questions. I needed a moment to myself.”
“Is Brianne with you?”
Donar glanced at Brianne, who looked as frustrated as he. “Yes,” he simply answered.
“Can the two of you please get back here?” Conran returned. “Your absence isn’t helping, and dinner is about to be served.”
“Fine,” said Donar, half-grumbling. “We’re on our way.” He touched his trim again and the comm hologram disappeared.
DONAR (Planet Of Dragons Book 4) Page 7
