Love in the Time of Dragons

Chapter Five

Bliss. What a lovely word it was. I lay on the bed and stared up at the shimmers from a streetlight dappling the ceiling of my room, listening to the faint sounds of London traffic, sounds that were muted by the fact that the house had exceptionally good windows, and by the time of night. It was two in the morning — deep night, someone had once called it.

I frowned. “Now where did I hear that?” A sliver of light pierced the darkness of the room as the door opened a tiny bit. “Are you awake?” “Unfortunately, yes.”

Kaawa opened the door wider and gave me an inquisitive look. “I was passing your room a short while ago and heard you call out. I thought perhaps you were having a nightmare. Would you like some company?” “So long as you don’t mind being shut up with a nutcase, sure,” I answered, pulling myself up to a sitting position. I clicked on the bedside lamp and watched as she hauled an armchair a little closer to the bed.

“That’s a lovely caftan,” I said, admiring the black and silver African batik animals on it.

“Thank you. My daughter sent it to me. She lives in Kenya, on an animal preserve. Why do you think you are a nutcase?” I looked back up at the ceiling for a minute, debating whether or not I wanted to talk about the fear that was eating away at me. Kaawa seemed nice and motherly, but I didn’t really know her.

Then again, there weren’t too many people I did remember knowing.

“I think I might be mentally unstable,” I said at last, watching her to see if she looked at all frightened of me.

She didn’t look anything but mildly interested. “Because of the memory loss?” “No. I think I might be schizophrenic. Or suffering from multiple personalities. Or some other mental disorder like that.” “You are having dreams,” she said, nodding just as if she understood. “Dreams of your past.” “I’m having dreams, yes, but it can’t be my past. I’m not a dragon. I’m human. Evidently mentally unstable, but human.” She was silent for a moment. “Struggling against yourself is not making the situation any easier, you know.” “I’m not struggling against myself. I’m trying to hold on to my sanity. Look, I know what you think, what everyone thinks. But if you were in my place, wouldn’t you know if you weren’t human?” “Do you think humans have dreams of their past life as a dragon?” she asked with maddening calm.

“The only reason I’m having those dreams is because you people put it in my mind!” I said, my voice tinged with desperation.

She shook her head slowly. “It was a dream that brought you out of the month-long sleep, was it not?” I looked at my hands lying clenched tight on the bed cover. “Yes.” “Child.” She laid her hand on my arm. “The dragon inside of you wishes to be woken, whether you desire that or not. I will admit that you appear human to me, and I do not know how it can be that you have changed thusly, but deny it though you may, you are Ysolde de Bouchier, and you will not be calm in your mind until you accept that.” “Calm in my mind? At this point, I can’t even conceive of what that’s like.” I took a deep breath, trying to keep from going stark raving mad. “I’m sorry. I don’t mean to be the biggest drama queen there ever was, but you have to admit that this whole situation is enough to drive a girl bonkers.” “It is a test, yes,” she agreed in that same soothing voice.

I just wanted to shriek. Instead, I took another deep breath. “OK, let’s go into the land of totally bizarre, and say you’re right. I’m a dragon magically reincarnated—” “Not reincarnated — resurrected,” she corrected me.

“What’s the difference?”

“I am reincarnated — when my physical form has run its appointed time, I retreat into the dreaming and await a new form. I am born again, remembering all that has passed before, but with a new body. That is reincarnated. Resurrection is the bringing back to life of that which was dead.” I took a third deep breath. It’s a wonder there was any air left in the room. “That’s cool. You’re reincarnated. I’m resurrected. We’ll just move past that and get to the meat of my argument — if I’m a dragon, why don’t I like gold? Why can’t I breathe fire? Why can’t I turn into great big scary animal shapes?” “Because the dragon in you has not woken yet. I think…” She paused, her gaze turned inward. “I think it is waiting.” “Waiting for what?”

“I don’t know. That is something you will find out when the time is appropriate. Until then, you must stop fighting the dragon inside you. The dreams you have, they are about your past, are they not?” I looked away, feeling my cheeks grow hot as I remembered the highly erotic dream I’d just had. “They concern someone named Ysolde, and a man named Baltic.” “As I expected. The dragon part of you wants you to remember,” she said, patting my hand as she rose. “It wants you to accept your past in order to deal with the present.” “Well, the dragon part can just go take a flying leap off the side of a mountain, because I want my life to go back to what it was.” “I don’t think that’s possible. It has stirred. It wishes for you to remember. It is time, Ysolde.” “Cow cookies!” I snapped. “No one tells me what to do. Well, Dr. Kostich does, but that’s fully within the bounds of my apprenticeship. And he doesn’t give me erotic dreams!” “Erotic dreams?” Kaawa asked, a little smile on her lips.

I blushed again, damning my mouth for speaking inappropriately again. “I don’t really think the type of dream matters as much as the fact that my mind is cracking.” “Your mind is doing nothing of the sort. Allow the dragon side to speak to you, and I think you will find your way through this trying time,” she said from the door. She hesitated a few seconds, then added, “This is truly none of my business, but I have prided myself on my knowledge of history of dragonkin, and I admit to being very curious about this… When you and Baltic met — did he offer to make you his mate right away, or did that come after Constantine Norka claimed you?” I blinked in surprise, then gave a rueful chuckle. “Assuming the dreams are not a figment of my warped mind, then no, Baltic did not ask me to be his mate when we met. Quite the contrary. He came very close to killing me, and later told me he would never bed a silver dragon.” “Fascinating,” she said, looking thoughtful. “Absolutely fascinating. I had no idea. Sleep well, Ysolde.” “Tully,” I said sadly, but it was said to the door as she closed it.

“You look horrible,” the fruit of my loins told me six hours later as I found the dining room. Brom was seated behind a bowl of oatmeal, a plate heaped high with eggs, potatoes, and three pieces of jam-covered toast waiting next to him.

“Thank you,” I said, dropping a kiss on his head before taking a cup off the sideboard. “And I hope you’re planning on eating all of that. You know how I feel about wasting food.” “That’s just ’cause Gareth makes such a big fuss over money,” Brom said, turning to May, who sat at the end of the table with a cup of coffee in front of her. “He’s a tightwad.” “Quite possibly the fact that you eat like a horse has influenced his lectures regarding economy,” I said, giving him a meaningful look. I lifted the lid to a silver carafe and peered in. It held coffee.

“If you prefer tea, we can get you some,” May said, watching me.

“Actually, I’m really big on chocolate,” I said with an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid the term ‘chocoholic’ applies to me far too well.” “I’m sure we can rustle up some hot chocolate,” she said, rising.

“Don’t go to any bother for me—”

“It’s no bother. I’ll just go tell Renata.” May disappeared, leaving me with Brom. I sat across from him, trying to make a decision.

“Gabriel says there’s a museum here that has human mummies. Can we go see them?” Brom asked.

“Possibly. I have to see Dr. Kostich today, though. I was told he’s in town, and I will need to see what work he has for me.” Brom’s expression was made strangely horrible by the mouthful of toast and eggs he stuffed in. “Gabriel said Tipene or Maata would take me ’cause you’re going to be busy with dragon stuff.” “Dragon stuff?” I frowned, idly rubbing my finger along the beaded edge of the table. “What sort of dragon stuff?” Brom thought for a few seconds, his cheeks bulging as he chewed. “It had some foreign word, like sarcophagus.” “Sárkány,” May said, entering the room with a tall, athletic woman who towered over her. Like Tipene, she appeared to be of Aboriginal descent, with lovely dark skin that gave emphasis to her grey eyes. “This is Maata, by the way. She’s the second of Gabriel’s elite guards.” We exchanged greetings. Maata moved to the sideboard, loading up a plate almost as full as Brom’s.

“Before you ask,” May continued, retaking her seat, “a sárkány is basically a meeting where the wyverns discuss weyr business. Kostya called one for today.” “Kostya?” I sat frozen for a second as a face rose in my mind’s eye.

“Yes.” Both May and Maata watched me. “Do you know him?” I blinked away the image, saying slowly, “He was in a dream I had.” “Kaawa mentioned you were dreaming of your past. It must be very confusing to you to see yourself but not be able to relate to it.” “Yes,” I answered, falling silent as a young woman bustled into the room with a pot of hot chocolate for me. I thanked her, breathing deeply of the lovely chocolatey smell.

“The sárkány is called for three this afternoon,” May continued, sipping her coffee.

“I’m sure we can stay out of your way while you have your meeting.” “That’s actually not what I meant,” May said with a little smile. “The sárkány has been called so the wyverns can be introduced to you.” I sighed. “I’m getting very tired of telling people I’m not a dragon.” “I know. But I do think it would be good for you to meet them. If nothing else, they will be able to see for themselves that you’re human.” “There is that… ” I chewed my lip for a moment. “All right. I will come to your meeting.” “Excellent!” May said, looking pleased. “Brom would probably find it pretty dull stuff, so Maata volunteered to take him to the British Museum to see the mummies.” I assessed Maata. She looked sturdy enough to take on a semitruck, and since she was one of Gabriel’s elite guard, I assumed she was beyond trustworthy. “That’s very kind of you, but I wouldn’t want to impose,” I told her.

She waved away the objection with a fork loaded with herbed eggs. “It’s no imposition at all. I happen to like mummies, and am very interested in Brom’s experiments with mummifying animals. Before I knew I was to be part of Gabriel’s guard, I thought I might be a veterinarian.” “That’s what Sullivan wants me to do,” Brom said around another mouthful of food.

I frowned at him, and he made a huge effort to swallow.

“You are not a python,” I told him. “Chew before you swallow.” “This is none of my business, but why do you call your mother Sullivan?” May asked.

Brom shrugged. “It’s what Gareth calls her.” May’s gaze transferred to me. “Your husband calls you by your last name?” “Gareth is a little bit… special,” I said, pouring out more hot chocolate. It was excellent, very hot, just as I liked it, and made with Belgian cocoa.

She murmured something noncommittal.

“I’ve decided after talking with your… er… what do you call Kaawa?” I asked May.

“Call her?”

“Yes. I mean, you’re not married to Gabriel, are you? Not that I’m judging! Lots of people shack up without getting married. I just wondered what you call his mother.” She blinked at me twice. “I call her Kaawa.” “I see.”

She smiled, and I realized again that there was something about her that struck a familiar chord. “Marriage is a human convention. I’ve never been human, so I don’t feel the need to formalize the relationship I have with Gabriel in that way. The bond between a wyvern and a mate is much more binding than a mortal marriage ceremony, Ysolde. There is no such thing as divorce in the dragon world.” Brom’s eyes grew round as he watched her.

“Dragons never make bad choices so far as their significant others go, then?” I couldn’t help but ask, trying hard to keep the acid tone from my voice.

“I’m sure some do,” she said, glancing at Maata. “I’ve never met any, though. Have you?” “Yes, although it is rare,” Maata told me. “It is not common, but it can happen that two people are mated who should not be.” “So what do they do? Live out their lives in quiet misery, trying to make the best of what they have despite the fact that they have no hope, no hope whatsoever of any sort of a satisfying or happy connubial and romantic life?” I couldn’t help but ask.

“What’s connubial?” Brom asked around another mouthful of eggs.

“Married.”

May hid her smile, but Maata openly laughed. “I would like to see the dragon that is content to live in quiet misery. No, if a mated pair is not compatible, they take the only solution.” I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. I had to know, though. My curiosity would not be satisfied until I asked. “And what’s that?” “One of them kills the other,” she said, shrugging slightly. “Death is the only way to break the bond. Of course, usually the one who remains does not survive long, but that is the way of dragons. They mate for life, and when one mate is gone, the other often chooses to end his or her suffering.” “Cool,” Brom said, looking far too fascinated for my ease of mind. “Do you know of a dragon who’s died? I wonder if I could mummify something that big. Do they die in dragon form or people form? What happens to them when they’re dead? Do you bury them like mortals, or do you burn them up or something else?” “Enough of the ‘like mortals’ comment, young man,” I told him. “You are a mortal. I don’t care what anyone tells you — you are a perfectly normal little boy, albeit one with a bizarre mummy fascination.” “Sullivan is all over denial,” he told Maata, who nodded her head in agreement.

“We are going to move on, because if we don’t, someone will find himself confined to his room rather than going to a museum,” I said with a dark look at my child.

“Are you going to kill Gareth?” he asked me, completely ignoring the look.

“What?” I gawked at him.

“Gabriel said you’re married to a dragon named Baltic, but you’re also married to Gareth. That means you have to get rid of one of them, and you don’t like Gareth, so you should get rid of him.” He frowned. “Although I don’t want you to if you’ll do what Maata said, and end your suffering.” “I assure you that I have no intentions to kill either myself or your father. Shall we move on? Excellent. I really need to see Dr. Kostich today. What time were you thinking of going to the museum?” I asked Maata.

“We can leave right after breakfast, if you like. There’s enough to see there to keep us busy all day.” “I’d better take my field notebook and camera,” Brom said, starting to rise from his chair.

“Sit,” I ordered. “Finish that food or you won’t go anywhere today.” He slumped back into his chair, grumbling under his breath about not wanting to waste valuable time.

“Tipene called Dr. Kostich yesterday to tell him you were awake, in case you were worried he didn’t know,” May told me.

“It’s not that. I’m his apprentice. I have no doubt there’s a huge mountain of work that’s been waiting for me.” “What sort of work does an apprentice do?” May asked.

“Lots and lots of transcribing,” I said, sighing. “We’re expected to copy out vast compendiums of arcanery, most of which are bizarre things that no one in their right mind cares about anymore. There are some useful things to be learned, like how to wield arcane destructive spells, but those come to more advanced apprentices. Ones at my level spend their days perfecting their wart removal spells, and ways to make a person’s ears unstop. Last week — or rather, the last week I remember — I ran across the mention of a really rocking spell to make a person’s eyebrows spontaneously combust.” “Wow,” May said, an odd expression on her face.

“I know. Underwhelming, right?” I sighed and glanced at my watch. “Someday I’ll get to the good stuff, but until then… I should be going now. Brom, I expect you to behave yourself with Maata, and not give her any trouble.” He made a face as I grabbed my purse, but his eyes lit up when I tucked a few bills into his shirt pocket.

“Don’t forget, the sárkány is at three,” May said as I ruffled his hair.

There was a slight undertone of warning to that, a fact I acknowledged with a nod as I left the dining room.

I’m not quite sure what sort of a reception I was expecting from Dr. Kostich, but I assumed he would express some sort of pleasure that I was once again amongst the cognizant.

“Oh. It’s you,” was the greeting I received, however. He looked over a pair of reading glasses at me, a frown pulling his eyebrows together, his pale blue eyes as cold as an iceberg.

“Good morning, sir. Good morning, Jack.” “Hi, Tully. Glad to see you’re up and about again. You scared the crap out of us when you just keeled over a month ago.” My fellow apprentice Jack, a young man in his mid-twenties, with a freckled, open face, wild red hair, and a friendly nature that reminded me of a puppy, grinned for a few seconds before some of the chill seeped off of our boss.

As Dr. Kostich’s gimlet eye turned upon him, Jack lowered his gaze back to a medieval grimoire from which he was making notes.

“Thanks. I have no idea why the fugue struck me just then and not in October, as it should have, but I am very sorry for any inconvenience it’s caused you,” I told Kostich.

He tapped a few keys on the laptop before him and pushed his chair back, giving me a thorough once-over. I had to restrain myself from fidgeting under the examination, avoiding his eye, glancing around the living room of the suite he always booked when he was in London. Everything looked the same as when I had left it some five weeks before, everything appeared normal, but something was clearly wrong.

“I have been in contact with the silver wyvern, whom I believe you are currently staying with,” he said finally, gesturing abruptly toward a cream and rose Louis XIV chair. I sat on the edge of it, feeling as if I had been sent to the principal’s office. “He informed me of a number of facts that I have found infinitely distressing.” “I’m sorry to hear that. I hope that perhaps I can explain some of the circumstances and relieve you of that distress,” I said, wishing I didn’t sound so stilted.

“I have little hope that will happen,” Kostich said, steepling his fingers. “The wyvern informed me that you are not, in fact, a simple apprentice as you represented yourself.” I glanced over at Jack. His head was bent over the grimoire, but he watched me, his gaze serious. “You know, Gabriel is a nice guy and everything, but he and May have some really wild ideas. I don’t hold with them at all,” I said quickly, just in case he thought to wonder about my mental status. Lord knows I was doing enough of that for both of us.

“In fact, the wyvern tells me that you are a dragon, and were once a member of his sept,” Kostich continued just like I hadn’t said a word.

I flinched inwardly at the grim look on his face. I knew from the rants he’d made over the past year that Kostich did not like dragons very much. “Like I said, wild ideas. He’s wrong, of course. Everyone can see I’m human!” “No,” he said, taking me by surprise. “That you are not. You appear human, yes, but you are not one. I knew that when you applied for apprenticeship.” “You did?” I had a feeling my eyes were bugging out in surprise. I blinked a few times to try to get the stupefied expression off my face. “Why didn’t you say something to me?” He shrugged. “It is not uncommon to find those of mixed heritage in the L’au-dela.” “I’m not… mixed heritage.”

“I assumed that you had one human parent, and one immortal, as does your husband.” I gawked at him. “You’re kidding, right? Gareth? My Gareth? He has an immortal parent?” “Your husband is of little concern, except when he interrupts me with demands and foolish threats,” he answered, shooting me a look that had me frozen in my chair. “You are aware, are you not, of the Magister’s Code by which we live our lives?” “Yes, sir,” I said miserably, sure of where he was going.

“You will then be in no surprise to find that due to the violation of statute number one hundred and eighty-seven, you have been removed from the rolls as an apprentice.” A little zap of electricity ran through me as his words sank in. “You’re kicking me out?” I asked, unable to believe it. “I know you’re pissed about my unexpected absence, but to kick me out because of it? That hardly seems fair!” “I do not get ‘pissed,’ as you say.” His pale blue eyes looked bored. “That is a useless emotion. You have been stripped of your apprenticeship. Furthermore, as of this moment you are under an interdict prohibiting you from using any of the knowledge you have gained during your time as my aide.” He sketched a couple of symbols in the air. They glowed white-blue for a moment before dissolving into me. “But, sir—” “Strictly speaking, an interdict is not necessary, since you have limited powers.” He peered at me in a way that left me shivering with unease. “You haven’t been using your powers lately, have you?” “No. You know I’m not comfortable doing so without a good deal of preparation.” I squirmed in the chair.

His lips tightened. “I am well aware of that fact. That you wasted my time and resources trying to teach you, a dragon, one who has no ability to handle arcane power, is something I shall not forget for a long time.” “But I have power,” I protested. “It may not be a lot, and I may not be terribly comfortable with it, but I’ve learned tons of things from my time as your apprentice! I can take off even the most stubborn of warts. Eyebrows live in fear of me! My neighbor had a case of prickly heat, and I had that sucker gone and her toes back to normal in nothing flat!” His lips thinned even more until they all but disappeared into each other. “You have been my apprentice for seven years, and yet you still struggle with the most elemental of skills. Jack has been with me for six months, and already he has surpassed your skill tenfold!” I glanced at Jack, wanting to protest that it wasn’t my fault, that magic didn’t come easy to me. But the words rang in my head that dragons could not wield arcane power.

“Now that I know the truth about you, there is little wonder that you failed to progress in your studies as you should have. I don’t know how I could have been so blind, so foolish as to believe your stories that you simply needed more time to learn the ways of the magi, but I assure you that I will not make the same mistake a second time. You are released from your duties, Tully Sullivan.” Pain lashed me at the invocation of my name. I stood up, not knowing what I could say or do to make him change his mind. “I was making progress,” I said sadly. “I almost have that spell down to clear out a plugged ear.” “A child of four could deal with the earwax spell better than you after four months’ study at it,” he snapped.

“I’ve tried,” I said simply, my spirits leaden.

“Foolishly, yes. I have not doubted your devotion; it is your ability for which I’ve made allowances, and now that I know the reason for your lack, my path is clear.” “I’m sorry,” I said, ridiculously wanting to cry. “I never intended any deception or insult to you, and if there was some way I could make it up to you, if there was some epic sort of task I could undertake, or some hugely intricate bit of magic I could perform to show you how serious I am about my career as a mage, I would do so.” He was silent for a moment, and I was convinced he was going to turn me into a toad, or worse. But to my surprise, he said slowly, “There is, perhaps, a way you could serve me. It will in no way influence my decision to remove you as apprentice, but if you truly wished to be of service to the L’au-dela, then perhaps we can come to an understanding.” I bit the inside of my lip, wanting to tell him that if I was going to do him a favor, I expected to be reinstated to my position, but I had been acquainted with him long enough to know that he couldn’t be pressured into any act. But perhaps I could sway him with my devotion and dedication.

“What would that be?” I asked.

“There is a dragon that you have no doubt heard of,” he said, his voice deep and persuasive. “He is known as Baltic, and he possesses most alarming skills and abilities, one of which is to enter and leave the beyond at his whim.” I sat somewhat numb, wondering if the whole world revolved around the ebony-eyed Baltic.

“I wish to know how he has come by the arcane skills he has shown on numerous occasions. His companion, whom we captured the day you collapsed, refuses to talk despite being threatened with banishment to the Akasha. I also wish to know how he obtained Antonia von Endres’ light sword, and remove it from him.” “Baltic has a light sword?” I asked, confused. “But that’s made up of arcane magic. No one but an arch image could wield it.” “And yet he does, and quite proficiently, I will say,” he answered, rubbing his arm as if it hurt.

“You want me, an apprentice of little power and skill—” “You are no longer an apprentice,” he interrupted quickly, his eyebrows making elegant arches above his long nose. “Nor can you wield any power with the interdict upon you.” “You want me, with no power and skills, completely unable to work any sort of magic, to take a priceless sword away from a dragon mage-warrior?” I shook my head. Even to me it sounded like the sheerest folly. “I wouldn’t have the slightest clue how to do something like that, even assuming I could.” “Your inability to see all the possibilities is your failing, not mine,” he answered, his attention returning to his laptop.

“But I don’t even know how to find this Baltic—” “When you have something to report to me, you may contact me. Until then, good day.” “Perhaps if we were able to talk this over—” He looked up, power crackling off him. I was at the door before I realized he had compelled me to move. “Good day.” A few minutes later, I stood outside the hotel, buffeted by happy tourists and visitors, numbly aware of people and traffic passing by me, but unable to sort through my thoughts. They all seemed to whirl around in a horrible jumble that I doubted I could ever unravel.

The silver dragons thought I was mated to Baltic. The dreams I had focused on Baltic. Dr. Kostich wanted me to retrieve something from Baltic. “I’m beginning to hate that name,” I muttered to myself.

The doorman shot me a curious glance. I moved a few feet away, not sure where I was going to go. “Can I help you?” the doorman asked.

“I… I have some time to kill. Is there a park nearby?” I asked, falling back on an old standby that never failed to leave me comforted.

“Six blocks to the north, ma’am. Straight up the street.” I thanked him and walked quickly, needing the calming influence of green, growing things to restore order to my tortured mind. I felt better almost the instant my feet hit the grass, the scent of sun-warmed earth and grass and leaves from the trees that ringed the park fence filling me with a sense of well-being.

There were a great many people out in the park that day, no doubt enjoying the late summer day before the fall gloom set in. Groups of children raced after Frisbees and remote-controlled helicopters, couples lay in languid embraces, harried mothers and fathers herded their respective broods, and great giggling groups of schoolgirls clustered together to fawn over a musical group that was setting up on an entertainment stage in the corner of the park.

I headed in the opposite direction, breathing deeply to fill my soul with the smell and sensations of green life, eventually settling on one of two benches that sat back-to-back next to a boarded-up refreshment stand. No sooner had I slumped onto my claimed bench than two young women who appeared to be in their late teens hurried over and grabbed the one behind me, shooting me brief, curious glances.

I smiled and closed my eyes, turning my face up to the sun, hoping they wouldn’t stay long in such an out-of-the-way place, not when a band was going to be playing elsewhere.

The girls evidently decided I was harmless, because they started chatting in voices that I couldn’t help but overhear.

“I can’t believe that he had the balls, the steel balls, to tell me he’d rather go visit his parents in Malta than go with me to Rome, but he did, and that was it, that was just it as far as I’m concerned. I mean, Rome versus Malta? Rome absolutely wins.” “Absolutely,” the second girl said. “You are so right to dump him. Besides, that leaves you free for doing a little shopping in Italy, if you know what I mean. Italian men are so lickable, don’t you think?” “Some of them,” the first girl allowed. “Not the really hairy ones. They are just… ugh.” She shuddered and I started glancing around to find another spot. “I mean, my god, the things they stuff into their Speedos! It’s positively obscene!” My phone burbled at me just at that moment, causing me to send up a prayer of thanks as I flipped it open, expecting to hear Brom asking if he could have another advance on his allowance for some horrible instrument of mummification. “Hello?” It wasn’t his voice that greeted me, however. “Sullivan? What the hell are you doing still in England? Brom said you were staying there! Is this some sort of a joke?” “Gareth.” The two girls glanced over their shoulders at me. I half turned away and lowered my voice. “I wondered when you would think to call me.” “Think to call you? Are you daft? I’ve been trying to get hold of you for weeks. What is Kostich making you do?” “It’s a bit complicated,” I said, mindful of the girls, although they seemed to have moved on to judging the qualities of every male who wandered past. “I’m still here because I had an episode.” “What?” His shriek almost deafened me. “When? How? What the hell are you thinking?” “I wasn’t — I was asleep. And I don’t know how or why, it just happened. I’ve been staying at the house of some people Kostich was working with. They took me and Brom in.” “Did you manifest?” he asked quietly, but I could hear the eagerness in his voice.

“No. But that brings up a very good question — how long have I been doing that?” “What?” His voice was wary.

“How long have I been making gold for you? Dr. Kostich says you’re immortal. How long have we been married?” “You know how long we’ve been married — ten years. You’ve seen the license.” I had? “I don’t remember any of that. Have you been doing something to my memory?” “What the hell are you talking about?” He sounded furious now, speaking in a low, ugly voice that sent goose bumps up my arms. “If you’re trying to distract me because you manifested for some bastard who took you in—” “I just told you I didn’t. Fortunately, no one had large chunks of lead lying around.” “Fortunately? You stupid bitch. Do you have any idea how much that’s going to cost us by missing it? How the hell am I going to tell Ruth?” “I don’t know, and I don’t appreciate being called names. Look, Gareth, things are a bit confused right now. Dr. Kostich kicked me out of the magister’s guild, and I—” “He what?” Profound swearing followed, for a good two minutes. “What did you do?” “Nothing, I swear.”

“Then why did he kick you out?”

“It’s because of these”—I cast a glance over my shoulder, but the girls had their heads together, watching as three young men in soccer outfits strolled past—“because of some dragons.” “Dragons?” he repeated, his voice suddenly very small.

“Yes. The people I’m staying with are dragons. They’ve asked Brom and me to stay with them for a bit while I try to figure things out.” Silence filled my ear for a good minute. “Get out,” he finally said.

“What?”

“You heard me — get out. Get away from the dragons.” “Don’t you think that would be rude? They’ve given me a lot, Gareth. The wyvern’s mother herself tended me while I was in the fugue—” “Get out, you stupid woman! Do I make myself clear? Get out before they kill you!” “You are watching way too much TV, Gareth, you really are.” I kept my voice low, but allowed anger to sound in it. “If these people wanted to kill me, all they would have had to do was to dump me in the Thames while I was asleep.” “Listen carefully to me, Sullivan,” he said, breathing heavily. “You may think they’re your friends, but they aren’t. You have to get away from them, today, right now.” “That’s not going to be quite so easy,” I said, hesitating. I really didn’t want to talk to Gareth about Gabriel and May. Somehow, it seemed that it would taint the relationship if I were to try to explain them to him. “I told them I’d stay for a while. I’m having… well, they’re kind of dreams, and they’re—” “I don’t want to hear about your goddamned dreams!” he thundered, breathing like a bulldog for a few minutes before continuing. “I can’t leave just yet. Ruth and I are… we’re following up a potential client. But I’ll send someone to help you.” “Will you please stop doing the Darth Vader impression and listen to me?” I lost all remnants of patience with him. “Brom and I are fine. The dragons aren’t going to hurt us. We don’t need anyone to help us, because we’re fine, just fine!” “Be prepared to leave tonight,” Gareth said. I clenched my teeth against screaming in frustration. “Don’t tell anyone. Stay in your room.” “By the rood, Gareth! If I wasn’t already going insane, you’d be enough to push me right over the edge, do you know that?” “Wait a minute — did you say Brom was there?” “Yes! Yes, I did! Hallelujah and let fly the doves! You actually listened to something I said!” He cursed again, but under his breath this time. “Well, it’s of no matter. They can’t want him. You’ll just have to tell him to stay there until Ruth or someone can get him.” “You’re nuts,” I said flatly, so flabbergasted that he actually expected I would leave my own child, my brain couldn’t come up with anything more than that.

“They won’t harm him,” he said testily. “Just make sure you’re ready to leave.” The very idea that Gareth was willing to abandon Brom, his own child, to people he considered dangerous was so obscene, I sat staring at the grass in utter disbelief. At that moment, I knew the marriage was over. I could not remain married to a man who cared absolutely nothing for his son.

Gareth, obviously taking my silence for compliance, warned me again to have nothing to do with the dragons until I could be rescued.

“What do you expect me to do even if I were to leave the dragons?” my curiosity forced me to ask. “I’m not an apprentice anymore, and I’ve had an interdict placed on me. I can’t practice arcane magic at all.” “You’ll get your job back,” he said grimly.

“How?”

“That’s your problem,” he said, echoing Dr. Kostich. With one last word of warning he hung up, leaving me to shake my head. It was all so much to take in — first the dragons, then the dreams, and now the scales falling from my eyes where Gareth was concerned. How had I lived with such a monster for all those years?

“Holy Mary, mother of god,” one of the girls behind me said as I tucked my phone away in my purse. “Get a look at those two. Mmrowr! I call the back one.” “Oh! I was going to call him. I suppose I’ll have to take the tall one in front, then. What do you think — seven? Seven and a half?” “Are you kidding? He’s too intense. He probably has OCD or something. Five at the most. Now, the one behind him, he’s a definite eight point nine.” I glanced between them to see who they were talking about. Two men were walking parallel to the bench, some thirty feet away. I couldn’t see much of the far man, although glimpses indicated he was in his late thirties, with short dark hair and a slight goatee. An intricate Celtic tattoo wrapped around his biceps was made visible by a black sleeveless shirt. His companion, nearest me, was taller, and of a similar coloring. He also wore black, unremarkable except for the way the wind rippled the man’s shirt against his chest. He moved swiftly, his long legs making nothing of the expanse of the park, his body moving with an almost feline grace.

Something about him struck me as familiar. I turned a little more to get a better look as they continued past. The nearest man, the one with the graceful walk, had shoulder-length dark chocolate brown hair that was pulled back from a pronounced widow’s peak into a short ponytail. He was clean-shaven, although a faint hint of darkness around his jaw hinted at stubble.

“Maybe I should go for the tall one. I love me some manly stubble,” one of the girls said, as if she’d read my mind. “He’s just one hundred percent delicious. Hey! Why don’t we see where they’re going, and if they’d, you know, like us to go with them?” The second girl looked hesitant as she watched the ponytailed man. “I don’t know. Mine looks kind of intimidating, doesn’t he?” I agreed. He did look intimidating. He also looked sexy as hell. I wished I could indulge in a little illicit daydreaming about him, but I had enough on my plate without dwelling on the lamentable state of my personal life.

My gaze slid to him again, and once more I was struck with a sense of the familiar. It was as if something inside of me recognized something inside of him — a foolish notion if ever I’d had one, and of late, I’d had nothing but foolish notions.

To my surprise, the first man stumbled and came to a stop, turning full circle as he scanned the area. He hesitated when he faced us, and the first girl squealed and nudged her friend as she rose to her feet, blocking my view.

“Look! They’ve seen us! Let’s go over to them. Come on, Dee!” Her friend was slower in getting up. “I don’t know that they’re looking at us, Sybil.” “Don’t be stupid,” the first girl said, grabbing her purse. “It’s as clear as day! Let’s go say hello.” The two women headed toward the men. I tried to watch them but my vision started to fog, as if I were suddenly enveloped in a cocoon of cotton wool. I clutched the back of the bench to keep from pitching forward, but it was no use. I fell.

Pain burst to life in my head in waves of red that pounded and pulsed stronger and stronger until I thought it would explode from me.

“Stop!” I yelled, and miraculously, it did.

I opened my eyes and glared at the two men who faced each other over the altar of the cathedral, the echoes of their shouting disturbing the dust motes that danced in the thin sunlight streaming through the lovely stained-glass rose window. I turned to the man on my right. Slightly taller than me, of a thick, muscular stature, with golden brown hair and almost identically colored eyes, he reminded me of one of my father’s prized bulls. “Baltic has done nothing to harm me, nothing.” “He has sworn to destroy all silver dragons who do not submit to his obscene demands,” Constantine Norka said, glaring at Baltic. “Why would he bring you to me unless you were damaged?” I held up a hand to stop Baltic’s retort, which I knew would be loud and vicious. “He didn’t harm me because he is a man of honor. He swore to take me home, and he did, although”—I shifted my gaze to give him a reproachful look—“I meant my father’s keep, not to be delivered into the hands of dragons.” “You belong to my sept,” Constantine said, his hands fisted.

“Your sept belongs to me!” Baltic snarled.

“For the love of the saints, please don’t go through that again!” I said, rubbing my forehead. The remnants of a headache, caused by listening to the two wyverns circle each other snapping and snarling for the last hour, still lingered. “The fact is that he did as he said.” “Including spending the nights in your bed?” Constantine asked, his gaze tight on Baltic.

I raised my eyebrows and considered whether I should respond with maidenly indignation, or a more worldly approach. I decided for indignation. “My maidenhead is intact, if that is what you are desirous of knowing. Baltic did not bed me.” “No? Then why do his men say he was in your cabin every night?” I thought of the weeklong journey from England to the southern coast of France. It was true Baltic had visited me each night — I had been unable to refuse him, and had, in fact, learned much about what pleased him, and what drove him to the point of losing control.

“I was afraid of the journey,” I said truthfully. The sea was a foreign thing, and I did not trust or like it.

The corners of Baltic’s mouth curved upward.

“It’s true that when we were on the ship he came into my cabin at night, but it was to comfort me.” That also was true, although more of a half-truth. I would have to seek a confessor in my new home.

Constantine made a noise of disbelief, but I raised my chin and said calmly, “I say again that my maidenhead is intact. If you insist on an examination, I will submit to one.” “No,” he said, never taking his eyes off Baltic, who was still smiling faintly, an amused look in his obsidian eyes, as glossy and shiny as polished stone. “I will accept what you say.” “Thank the heavens. And now, I would greatly appreciate it if someone would tell me where my family is. My dragon family. So long as I have been ripped from the only parents I have known, I would like to meet the ones who gave me up.” Constantine’s hands flexed, but at last he stepped away from the altar, finally turning his gaze to me. In the distance, the song of the monks could be heard as they prayed in a smaller chapel. “It grieves me to tell you this, but your parents are dead, Ysolde.” “No,” I said, stopping when he tried to take my arm and lead me out of the cathedral. “They can’t be. I came all this way to find them.” “I’m sorry. Your father died in battle with your savior.” His words and expression were bitter as he nodded toward Baltic. “Your mother did not long survive him. They were a very devoted pair. I did not know you survived — your mother told us you had drowned. I don’t know why she placed you with mortals rather than her own kin, but we rejoice that you have been returned to us.” A deep sense of sadness leached into my heart, filling me with a black despair. I lifted my gaze to meet that of Baltic. He was waiting for me, his eyes guarded, his face devoid of emotion. “You killed my father?” “We are at war,” he said. “Lives are lost during wars, Ysolde.” I nodded, tears filling my eyes, my heart so heavy I couldn’t speak.

“Come. I will take you to your mother’s family. They will welcome you,” Constantine said, one hand on my back as he escorted me down the aisle of the cathedral, his guard falling in behind him.

I paused at the great double doors and looked back. Kostya and Pavel had joined Baltic at the altar. All three watched me. I wanted to thank Baltic for honoring his word to me, even when it meant he had to meet with his most hated enemy. I wanted to tell him how much pleasure he had given me in our nights together. I wanted to tell him that I was no longer angry that he took me away from the only family I’d known.

I said nothing. I simply looked at him, then turned and accompanied Constantine out of the cathedral and into my new life.

“You will be cherished now, Ysolde,” Constantine reassured me. “We have much to teach you, but you will learn that by-and-by.”