The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons ld-2

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The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons ld-2 Page 27

by Katie MacAlister


  “Not directly, but the implication was there.” An idea popped into my head, but it was so far-fetched, I couldn’t give it any credence. Besides, it didn’t fit. “If there is someone other than Maura calling the shots, I don’t know who that could be. I had a vision a few days ago about an event that took place at an aerie in Tibet. Ouroboros dragons were there, and were led by Maura. I didn’t see her explicitly, but there was a shade present, and he referred to his mistress. Who else but a Summoner would have a shade?”

  Kostich made another annoyed noise, one long, thin hand waving away my question. “A necromancer or an Ilargi might. That is not what is important.”

  “They’d have to be dragons as well, and there are no necromancer or dragon Ilargi that I can—” I stopped, the word “necromancer” ringing a bell in my head. “Wait a minute—necromancers can summon shades?”

  “Summon? No, but they are the only beings to whom shades can be bound, assuming the necromancer first gains control over the shade. What exactly did Maura say when the ouroboros dragons defied her orders?”

  I repeated her words, trying to fit together the terrible idea that was growing increasingly horrible.

  “She condoned a kidnapping?” Violet moaned softly to herself. “She participated in it? She planned it? Oh, my poor girl!”

  “This is what comes of consorting with dragons,” her father told her before turning back to me. “Very well. We will deal with the situation from here. You are excused.”

  “Huh?” I shook away my mental fog and stared at him for a moment. “Oh. Er . . . yes, I’m sorry. If there’s anything more I can do to help you with Maura, I will be happy to do so. About the interdiction . . .”

  “You have not freed my granddaughter from her association with the dragons. Our agreement was for you to do so,” he said, returning to his seat and turning his attention to his plate of pastries.

  “Our agreement was for me to try. I’ve done so. I want the interdiction off.”

  He froze at my strident tone.

  “Please,” I added hastily.

  “Yes, Father, take it off her. She’s earned it,” Violet said wearily. My heart went out to her, but I was at a loss as to how I could be of further help.

  Unless . . .

  Kostich’s face was black for a good two minutes, but finally he relented. “I will remove the interdiction, but you will remember that you are no longer a member of the Magister’s Guild, and as such, may not look to us for help.”

  I nodded, waiting expectantly. With a sigh that rivaled Baltic’s at his most exasperated, Kostich stood, drew a symbol over me, and pronounced me free of the interdiction and grace.

  Tiny invisible bands that had held me tightly loosened somewhat before finally dissolving, leaving me with the feeling that I could breathe deeply for the first time in many months. “Thank you,” I said with profound gratitude. “And Larry?”

  Dr. Kostich’s nostril’s flared.

  “Right. I’ll take care of him myself. Shouldn’t be an issue with the interdiction off, right?” I would have apologized again for my inability to bring them good news about Maura, but it was clear they both wanted me gone.

  I paused at the door, looking back, unable to keep from asking Dr. Kostich, “Can mages who have diminished return to the mortal world?”

  His pale blue eyes pinned me back with a look that raised the hairs on the back of my neck. “It has not occurred, no.”

  “But it’s possible?”

  Silence greeted my question for a good minute. “Only by a mage powerful enough to overcome the forces of nature itself.”

  Or one whose daughter was working on her behalf, a daughter who was half dragon and who was in her own right powerful enough to sing dirges . . . and raise the dead. A necromancer, in fact.

  I looked at him with horror creeping along my skin. “I have to go home.”

  “What is in your mind, dragon?” he asked, starting toward me.

  I shook my head and bolted, tossing over my shoulder, “I’ll let you know if it’s true.”

  While in the elevator on the way down to the ground floor, I made a frantic phone call to first Baltic, then Pavel, but neither of them answered.

  By the time I engaged a rental car, hastily left a message with Aisling’s housekeeper informing her I would be by to pick up Brom later, and tried to reach Baltic three more times, I greatly feared that the dark turn of my suspicions would turn out to be only too valid.

  As I pulled up at our house to find the lights ablaze, semicircles of light from the windows piercing the night, all doubt was erased.

  “Can anyone join this party, or is it by invitation only?” I asked as I set the Larry stone on a table near the door in Baltic’s library.

  At the sound of the door opening, two of the three occupants of the room turned to look at me.

  I squatted next to where Pavel lay on the floor, feeling for his pulse. It was a little erratic, but present, and he didn’t seem to be bleeding anywhere.

  “Will the day never come that you will do as I ask, mate?” Baltic asked, his face filled with irritation.

  I gestured toward the woman in front of him. “You’re the only man I know who can be annoyed at his mate while someone else holds a sword to your neck. What exactly do you intend to do to Baltic, Thala? You can’t mean to kill him; you’re the one who brought him back to life.”

  She ground her teeth while Baltic answered in just the arrogant tone I was expecting. “Ysolde, you will leave the house. This is between Thala and me.”

  “I don’t think it is—not anymore.” I stepped over Pavel’s form, skirting the two of them in their locked tableau. “Not since Thala ordered her Three Stooges to kill me in Latvia.”

  Baltic’s gaze shifted back to Thala. His eyes glowed with ebony fury. “You tried to kill my mate? Who are these dragons you command?”

  “Clever, aren’t you?” Thala taunted me, her eyes nervously switching from Baltic to me. “Did that little half-dragon bitch Maura talk?”

  “Half-dragon . . .” I shook my head, moving behind Baltic to the far side until I stood behind a couch, resting my hands on the back of it. “She’s the same as you, Thala. You both have dragon fathers . . . red dragon fathers. Was your father killed by Chuan Ren as well? Is that why you’re not a member of the sept?”

  She spat out a word that I didn’t recognize, but I knew it was not particularly polite. Baltic stood apparently relaxed, his hands open, but I could feel the dragon fire inside of him, demanding that he act. He was waiting to see what Thala would do. Neither of us believed she would hurt him, not after she’d gone to significant trouble to resurrect him.

  “My father couldn’t be bothered to recognize me, and the sept refused to allow me in because they said my mother’s blood tainted the precious dragon blood, diffused it into something impure. So, yes, I formed my own tribe, just as Baltic did when I brought him back. Only we have no intention of living quietly while our usurpers reign supreme.”

  Baltic eyed her with speculation. “You raised your own tribe? Then it was you who acted against me.”

  She smiled. “You were so busy thinking of nothing but re-forming the dragon heart, I’m surprised you noticed anything else was going on.”

  “You gave Kostya my shard.” His eyes narrowed. “You did not wish for me to re-form the heart!”

  “Of course I didn’t, you stupid man,” she snapped, the sword waving in the air as she gesticulated. “Ysolde! Ysolde! That’s all you could think of—Ysolde! ‘We must re-form the heart, Thala. We must get the shards from the other wyverns so we can invoke the First Dragon, Thala. Your plans and desires must wait—it must all circle around bloody precious Ysolde!’ I bit my tongue for years while you made your plans, because I knew that they would never come to fruition. I knew that one day you would grow tired of trying to regain that which you could never have again, and then nothing would matter to you.” Her gaze shifted to me. “I didn’t know that wretched sister of m
ine had already done the job.”

  “But why . . . ? I don’t understand,” I said, sliding my hands down behind the couch so I could start sketching a few wards and begin to gather a ball of arcane power.

  “She wanted the dragon heart for herself,” Baltic answered, his face impassive. The fire raged within him, however.

  “Why? What could it do . . . ? Oh. I suppose if you had the most powerful relic of all dragondom, you could do pretty much anything, couldn’t you? Even bringing your mother out of the beyond.”

  To my surprise, she dropped the sword tip from Baltic’s throat and made a gesture of annoyance with her free hand. “Do you really think I’m going to stand here explaining myself to you as if I were a villain at the end of a movie? I am not so foolish, nor do I have the time to waste on your inanities.”

  She flung down the sword and spread wide her hands, a horrible noise coming from her mouth, part wail, part spell.

  Baltic shouted and lunged toward me, knocking me down behind the couch, covering me with his body. For a moment, it seemed as if time itself stopped, the air inside the house gathering itself; then it was released in a shock wave of fury that exploded outward, taking with it everything in its path.

  I opened my eyes to find a blurry face just a few inches from mine. I screamed and tried to sit up, clunking my head against something rock hard. “Ack!”

  “Ow! Oh, man, you broke my head!”

  I blinked rapidly, and my vision cleared enough for me to see that the face belonged to a furry black dog, who was now rubbing the top of its head along the edge of the mattress upon which I was lying. “Jim! What the devil were you trying to do?”

  “See if you were still breathing. You were making funny little grunting noises.” It lifted its head and bellowed, “She’s awake!”

  I realized at that moment that I wasn’t alone in the bed. The familiar warm, solid form who lay next to me was too still, however. I pulled myself up again as I bent over Baltic, who was lying on his stomach, and I noted signs of serious wounds in the process of healing. “Saints of the apocalypse, what happened to his back?”

  Aisling bustled into the room, May on her heels. “Oh, good, you are awake. How do you feel?”

  “Confused. What’s happened to Baltic?”

  “Dirge at point-blank range,” Jim said, peering over the bed to look at the bruised and battered back. “He takes a licking but keeps on ticking, doesn’t he?”

  “Dirge . . .” Memory returned to me. “Thala!”

  “I’m so glad you told us where you were going, or we wouldn’t have arrived just as she brought the house down on you,” Aisling said, fetching a soft robe from a wardrobe. Absently, I put it on over the nightgown in which I’d been dressed.

  “Baltic took the brunt of it, but Gabriel and Tipene worked over him and Pavel all night.” May’s blue eyes considered me with a frankness that drove home the debt we owed them. “You weren’t hurt badly, but the others . . . well, I’m just glad that Aisling and Drake brought you to us in time.”

  “I will move heaven and earth to repay all of you,” I swore, tears swimming in my eyes as I gently touched the marks on Baltic’s back. He moaned into the pillow, moving restlessly. I couldn’t keep from bending down to kiss his cheek, whispering, “It’s all right, my love. You sleep. I’m right here.”

  He murmured my name, his body relaxing again as I stroked his shoulder.

  “If you can stand a visitor, I know of someone who’s anxious to see you. Jim, stop touching Ysolde with your nose. It’s unhygienic,” Aisling scolded, shooing him toward the door.

  “Sheesh, you yell at me for not wanting to see her when she’s all bloody and gooey, and now you’re yelling because I’m just checking that she’s OK. Inconsistent much, Ash?”

  “Sullivan?” Brom appeared in the door, his face anxious. I slipped out of the bed and met him halfway, hugging him as tightly as I could without cutting off his oxygen. “Nico said you’d be OK, but you didn’t look like it when they carried you in.”

  “I’m absolutely OK,” I said, giving him one last squeeze before he started casting glances at the others in the room. “So is Baltic. I’m sorry if we frightened you.”

  “I wasn’t scared,” he said with all the insouciance of a nine-year-old. He glanced again at Baltic, then gave a little twitch of his shoulders. “Not much. I’m glad you’re back, though. Jim says Thala went postal and exploded the house. Is the basement blown up as well?”

  I smiled, relieved that the strained expression had faded to one of purely mercenary interest. “I’m sure it was. We’ll have to get you some new equipment for your ghastly experiments, all right?”

  “OK. Nico says he’ll go with us the next time Maata and I go to the British Museum. He says he knows someone who works there who will let us see behind-the-scenes stuff. He says they have mummies that they don’t even let people see, but that he can talk to them and they might show them to me. He says they have mummies of cats.”

  “You’re just a really weird kid,” Jim told Brom. “Luckily, I like weird.”

  “And once again balance is restored to the world,” I said, smiling.

  Chapter Twenty

  “ Mate, stop fussing over me.”

  “Gabriel says—”

  “I don’t care what the silver wyvern says. You will cease trying to force me into bed, and instead give me my trousers.”

  “You haven’t rested enough!” I stuffed the pair of pants that one of Drake’s men had brought into the wardrobe and spun around with my back to the door. “Gabriel was very clear that your injuries were sufficiently serious that you needed time to finish the healing he started. That doesn’t mean you can get up a few hours after you were just about blown to kingdom come!”

  “I will not be ordered around by Gabriel Tauhou!” Baltic stormed, marching toward me in all of his naked glory, his scowl truly magnificent. He held out his hand. “Give me my trousers.”

  “If you go back to bed, I’ll give you a sponge bath,” I said, batting my eyelashes.

  That made him pause, but after a long consideration, he shook his head. “I could not make love to you in the home of the silver wyvern. Give me the trousers!”

  “How about this?” I cooed, sliding my hands up the muscled swell of his chest and stroking his neck as I nibbled on his lower lip, my body moving gently against his. “You get back into bed, and I’ll give you a massage to work out the kinks in all those poor abused muscles. I bet I could get some massage oil . . . the lickable kind.”

  Passion kindled in his eyes, and for a minute I thought he’d go for it, but at last he shook his head, reaching behind me to yank open the wardrobe door. “I know you desire me as much as I desire you, Ysolde, but this is not the place to perform those acts in which I clearly see you wish to indulge yourself. We will return home, and then you will lick oil off me.”

  The faint sound of voices yelling reached my ears, followed by the thump of footsteps.

  “Our home is nothing but a heap of stone and timber,” I said, sighing as he pulled on the pants. “Thanks to your crazy ex-girlfriend. It sounds like we’re going to have company.”

  He grabbed a shirt from the wardrobe, and was just buttoning it when Jim burst into the room, its eyes round with excitement. “Good, Balters is up. You’re going to want to see this.”

  “See what?” I asked as the demon turned tail and ran back to the stairs.

  “Is my son here?”

  “Yes, Aisling left him here when they went off to save us, not that I expect they knew that they would be called on to do just that. She just said that she was worried because I babbled something about Thala wanting to hurt you, and she convinced Drake to make sure we were all right.”

  Baltic made a noncommittal noise and put on his shoes, which oddly enough hadn’t been destroyed in the explosion. “Gather your things. We are leaving.”

  I smoothed out the dress that Aisling had lent me, May’s clothing being too small for me.
“Things? What things? This is pretty much it.” I looked up to find him disappearing out the door. “Baltic, wait! You’re not fully healed—”

  Raised voices could be heard filtering up the stairwell. Baltic paused for a moment as he listened, then sighed his best martyred sigh and took my hand as we continued to the ground floor at a more decorous pace.

  The hall of Gabriel and May’s house was large and filled with plants. A heavy round table dominated the center, upon which an elegant vase sat filled with a beautiful flower arrangement. Now, however, the flowers and vase lay in ruins on the marble floor, the glass shattered and water creeping across toward a gorgeous old handworked rug. Brom peeked out around Pavel, who stood guarding a doorway, Nico hovering protectively behind both of them. Gabriel was being held back by Drake and Tipene, while Aisling and May stood on one side, expressions of incredulity on their respective faces. Standing on the table was a thickly built man, his voice filling the hall as he declared, “I don’t care what your name is or who your father was, or what you used to be, you are no longer wyvern! I brought this sept into being, and I will not allow another to be wyvern so long as there is breath in my body!”

  “Constantine,” I said, sighing right along with Baltic. “I might have known he’d find his way here.”

  Baltic said nothing, just dropped my hand and strode forward. Constantine spun around, his eyes lighting with pleasure as he jumped off the table, obviously intent on giving Baltic yet another piece of his mind.

  He didn’t have the chance to, however. Baltic’s fist shot out, sending Constantine flying backward a couple of feet, his body hitting the ground with a loud whump.

  May grinned. Aisling applauded. Jim whistled as it peered into Constantine’s face. “He’s out like a light. Nice one, Baltic.”

  “Yes, nice one,” Gabriel agreed, shaking off Tipene and Drake to stalk forward to us. “I take it we have you to thank for resurrecting Constantine?”

  “Yes, because it’s not enough I have a lieutenant who wishes to destroy my mate, and a former heir who insists on taking what is not his. I must add the treacherous bastard who slayed Ysolde into my life, as well,” Baltic answered with a grim look.

 

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