The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons (26 page)

“Mate, you will tell me now what it is you have undertaken for the archimage,” Baltic said, holding me back as Pavel headed for the house. “Is it to do with the light sword?”

“No.” I stopped trying to pry his fingers from my upper arm, admitting that he had done as I had asked and it was my turn to acquiesce. “He asked for my help with his granddaughter.”

His eyes narrowed. “Why would he seek
your
help for that?”

“Because she’s half dragon, and I was handy. She’s involved with some ouroboros dragons, and he wants her away from them. I promised to find out what’s going on and to aid her as best I can.”

“An ouroboros tribe?” His gaze turned contemplative. “Is that why you were asking about them? Which tribe?”

“I’m not absolutely certain, but I suspect they are the ones who imprisoned Kostya in his aerie.”

He shook his head; then, taking my hand in a gentler grasp, he escorted me toward the kitchen door. “Ouroboros dragons are dangerous. I do not want you becoming involved with them.”

“Dangerous how?”

“They have no respect for septs, or the weyr.”

“Neither do you,” I pointed out as we entered the kitchen to find Nico and Brom seated at the table, while Pavel was obviously about to prepare some paninis. “We’re technically ouroboros, too, so I doubt if we have much to fear from them.”

Before Baltic could answer, Thala burst into the room. “There you are! You are late! You said you would be here two hours ago!”

Baltic looked taken aback for about three seconds, before his expression darkened. “We were detained.”

She tossed an angry glance my way, then took his arm and tugged him toward the hall door. “No doubt it was intentional. Isn’t Kostich friends with the green mate?”

“Not according to Aisling.” I eyed the red peppers and turkey breast that Pavel was slicing.

Thala ignored my comment. “The green dragons summoned you while Kostich was moving my mother’s sword to safety.”

Baltic froze at her words. “He has moved the sword?”

“Yes.” Her lips compressed as she shot me an unreadable look before continuing. “I told you that we needed to do more than simply establish the level of security at Suffrage House. Your woman obviously spoke to the green mate, and she told Kostich of our plans to take the sword. He has moved it from the vault there and taken it to the sepulcher.”

“I would never betray Baltic in any way,” I said, slamming down a quarter wheel of Swiss cheese before marching over to Thala. “And if you ever again imply I would do so, you’re going to be one sorry necromancer.”

She straightened her shoulders and looked down her nose at me. “Do you threaten me again, human?”

“You bet your buttons I do,” I said, making a fist and gathering myself for a lunge.

“Ysolde, remember our son,” Baltic said, pulling me backward against his body. “You do not wish to fight in front of him, do you?”

His words acted like a bucket of cold water tossed on my head. I sent a reassuring smile to Brom, who sat watching with wide, delighted eyes. “No, of course not. But you know full well I didn’t betray you any more than Aisling did.”

“I care not what the green mate did, but I know that you would never do such a thing,” he agreed, patting me on the behind before releasing me and giving Thala a long look. “I have asked you to cease tormenting my mate. You will not make me repeat myself.”

Her eyes were hot with anger, but after a few moments during which I thought she might just challenge Baltic’s dominance, she dropped her gaze in a gesture of submission. “The fact remains that the sword has been moved to a safer location, and now it is beyond our reach.”

“Not beyond it. More difficult to obtain, perhaps, but not out of the question.”

“Where exactly is this—” My phone ringing had me pausing in the middle of the question. “Oh. I . . . uh . . . I have to take this call. It’s about that business we just discussed,” I added with meaning to Baltic, who simply shot me a warning look and allowed himself to be urged away by Thala.

“She and I are definitely going to have it out one of these days,” I said softly as I went out to the kitchen garden. “Hello?”

“Good afternoon. I am Maura Lo, and I’m told you wish to hire me for a summoning?”

“Hello, Maura. Yes, I do. I’d love to talk to you in person about what I’d like you to do for me—are you near London, by any chance?”

“Er . . . no.” Her voice had a kind of husky quality that reminded me of Lauren Bacall at her most seductive. “Actually, I’m in Estonia at the moment. Which is one of the reasons I was calling—I’m afraid my schedule is a bit hectic, so I won’t be able to undertake any new projects for a while.”

I just bet she was busy. Busy with things like orchestrating the theft of objects from the L’au-dela vaults and keeping dragons imprisoned in their own residences. “That will never do. I’m afraid my job is quite urgent.”

“I’d be happy to recommend another Summoner since you have such a great need—”

I interrupted her offer with ruthless disregard. “I was told that you are the only Summoner in Europe who is capable of bringing back the ghost of a dragon.”

“You want a dragon’s spirit summoned?” she asked cautiously. “Which dragon?”

“The former wyvern of the silver dragons, Constantine Norka.”

She sucked in her breath. “Why?”

I blinked at the tidy rows of fresh basil and mint that Pavel often teased me were cosseted. “I beg your pardon?”

“I asked why you want Constantine Norka’s spirit summoned?”

It was on the tip of my tongue to tell her that was none of her business, but I reminded myself that a little honey went a long way. “The First Dragon has charged me with a task that involves Constantine. I’ve decided the best way to accomplish that task is to speak with Constantine directly.”

Silence followed that statement. “I see. Well, I won’t deny that the challenge is an intriguing one, but I’m very sorry, Miss . . . er . . . I’m afraid I didn’t catch your name from the message left for me.”

“It’s Ysolde.”

The silence that met my ears was one filled with surprise. “Ysolde de Bouchier?”

“Yes.”

“Oh . . . I thought you were dead.”

“I was. Temporarily.”

“All right. Er . . . one moment, please.” A hushed conversation followed. Listening carefully, I thought I could detect two other voices, both male. Just what was she doing in Estonia?

“Ysolde? I’m sorry, but I’ve just consulted my schedule again, and I really won’t be able to take your job for at least three months.”

“Are you engaged in another summoning job?”

“No, but I am terribly busy with . . . er . . . a little side project.”

“I see.” I hadn’t anticipated that she’d turn me down flat. Now what? I glanced along the edge of the house, catching a quick glimpse of Baltic as he moved to his desk in the study, Thala right next to him, her hands gesturing wildly as she spoke.
Take a leaf from Baltic’s book
, I thought to myself with a little smile. I straightened my shoulders and adopted a cold, imperious tone. “That is not acceptable.”

“I’m sorry, but—”

“No.” I cut off her excuses with determination. “Your little side projects do not interest me, Maura Lo.”

I heard a small gasp as I invoked her full name, embellishing it with a little flash of arcane magic that must have been tangible even given the distance.

“I have hired you to do a job, and if you refuse to do it, you will leave me with no other alternative but to notify the Akashic League of your denial. I’m sure they will have a thing or two to say to a Summoner who refuses to honor her contract with them. I haven’t had many dealings with them, but I remember someone telling me that the Akashic League takes its contracts with members very seriously, and the penalty for breaching them is very inventive . . . and quite irreversible.”

“I . . . that’s . . . you . . .” Anger was evident in her voice, but she bit it back. “If you can hold for a minute, I’ll speak with my colleagues and see if we can’t work something out.”

“Of course,” I agreed, absently plucking a weed from the lemon balm and noting that the dill needed to be cut back. More murmuring was audible in the background, a full three minutes’ worth before Maura spoke to me. “Ysolde? I’m happy to say that my colleagues understand the importance of attending to League business over our own projects, so I will be available to summon the spirit of Constantine Norka for you after all. I will need a few particulars first, however. First and most important, where did Norka die?”

“You don’t know?” I asked, somewhat surprised, since she recognized his name . . . and mine.

“No. Should I?”

“I suppose not. I just assumed that all dragons knew where Constantine died.”

“Ah. I see someone told you about my father.” The faint thread of humor in her voice had more than a hint of irony to it. “I’m afraid that I don’t have much to do with the weyr.”

“Isn’t your father a red dragon?”

“He was, yes,” she said cautiously. “He was thrown out of the sept when he displeased the wyvern. That was before she killed him, naturally.”

“I’m sorry, I had no idea Chuan Ren would do that to her own people. Well, my memory is a bit faulty, but based on my discussions with the First Dragon, I believe Constantine died in Latvia. Outside of Riga, in fact.”

“Riga? Do you mean Dauva? Of course you do; what am I saying? You were Baltic’s mate, weren’t you?”

“I still am.”

The silence that met that statement was profound. “I see,” she said slowly. “I think the best thing is to meet you at Dauva. We can search for the spirit there. Would it be possible to meet you in . . .” The muffled voices indicated a short conversation. “How about we meet in two days in that little suburb of Riga. What’s the name . . . Ziema?”

“Ziema will be fine. I’ll let you know if I’m unable to make it.”

She murmured something polite, and gave me information about a hotel she said was on the fringe of the town, near the forest that had consumed Dauva’s crumbled remains.

I hung up a few minutes later, staring blindly at the herb section of the kitchen garden, not really seeing anything but my own murky suspicions.

“Is something wrong?”

I gave a mental shake and glanced at Pavel. “Sorry?”

“I asked if something was wrong. You have the oddest look on your face.”

“Ah.” I thought for a moment more, then asked him, “If you were the person who captured and imprisoned Kostya in his own house, why would you be interested in me?”

He didn’t even blink at the bizarre question. “The common link between the two of you is Baltic, so I assume that would be my focus.”

“Yes,” I said slowly, turning my gaze back to the herbs. “That’s what I thought, too.”

“Who is interested in you, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“A half-dragon Summoner who may or may not be the leader of a notorious band of ouroboros dragons. I’m going to meet her in Riga in a couple of days. I don’t think I’ll tell Baltic, just in case.”

He pursed his lips. “In case he would refuse to let you go?”

“No.” I snapped the stalk of an amaryllis that grew in a pot next to the kitchen door, flinging away the leafy stem. “In case she tries to harm him.”

It wasn’t until the waxing moon was high in the night sky that Baltic finished his dealings with Thala. He found me standing in a small, seldom-used room, staring blankly at nothing.

“Did you have another vision?” He hesitated at the door before approaching me.

“No. Are you done with Thala?”

“I have been for the past hour. She went into town.”

I watched him walk toward me, his movements smooth and sinuous, like a big cat on the prowl. There was something about Baltic, a sense of coiled power on the verge of being released, that heightened the general feeling of danger surrounding him. It was simultaneously frightening and very erotic. “When I first saw you, I thought you were a warrior, not the mage my sister told me about. Then I found out you were a dragon.”

He stopped in front of me, not touching me, waiting for me to finish my thought.

“Of those three, I think the warrior is strongest in you.”

Eyes of midnight searched my face. “I am a dragon first and foremost, Ysolde. Dragons are warriors. We always have been. Nothing has changed.”

“No,” I agreed. “Nothing has changed. You might wear modern clothes, and drive a car, and use a laptop, but at heart, you’re still the same man you were five hundred years ago. You still make decisions for me. You still shut me out of certain aspects of your life. You’re still a warrior.”

“I protect you when necessary, yes. I cannot do otherwise, mate. I existed once without you, and I will not do so again. Were the events of the past to be repeated and Thala resurrected me again, I would not continue living. You
are
life to me, Ysolde. I will not live without you.”

I moved into his arms, kissing the pulse point in his neck. “You make it really hard to lambaste you for doing things you know I won’t like. I love you, too, you frustratingly wonderful man.”

“Dragon.”

“And while you may not have changed, I have. I understand that you need to protect Brom and me, and I’m grateful you do. But protecting doesn’t mean keeping me utterly in the dark. You can tell me about threats or things of importance like that. I really don’t like feeling as if I can’t be trusted with the truth.”

“There is nothing with which I don’t trust you.” His breath was hot on my neck and ear as he nibbled a spot that he knew turned me to mush in his arms.

“Did Thala know about Fiat’s threat to kill Brom and me?” I slid my hands under his shirt, stroking the muscles of his back, breathing in the scent of him. It was a heady experience, leaving me simmering with desire.

“Yes. Do you remember the time we were in Venice and you thought to hide behind a mask and test me?”