Breath of Fire (17 page)

Satisfied with the idea, I left the privacy of my room in search of food. I jogged down the three flights of stairs, lost in my own thoughts, so I was taken by surprise when I almost ran into a child no taller than my shoulders and dressed like a gypsy. I did a double take when I realized it wasn’t a child after all, but a woman.

Her pale skin was smooth and flawless, her hair as red as flame and her eyes emerald green. She wore a skirt of filmy layers in shades of red and a white peasant blouse that hung off her shoulders. Her feet were bare, her toenails painted a wicked red, and a silver toe ring wrapped around her pinkie. There was a wisdom of age behind her pleasant expression. I knew at once she was an Ancient.

“You’re quite right,” she said. Her teeth were small and square and very white. “I’m terribly old and quite set in my ways.” Her voice was husky and smooth like fine cognac and her power felt me out, testing my strengths and weaknesses automatically.

I ground my own teeth together in frustration. It was starting to piss me off how easily my enemies read my mind. I’d never faced anything like it before, and I was starting to wonder if my own clan was really that much weaker than Julian’s or if something else entirely was going on.

“You’ve always been very critical of yourself. But don’t worry. I have an unfair advantage over you. My mother was Faerie and my father was Drakán. Faeries are impervious to dragon magic, so you’re an open book to me. And before you ask, Julian sent me to keep you company over breakfast and answer any questions you might have about our clan. We’ll have a nice chat, and then you can go prepare for tonight’s
sfara
.
He feels badly that you were not given the proper ceremony for your arrival last evening.”

“I just bet he does,” I growled.

“He also requests that you wear black, as is our tradition at such gatherings.”

“Black is not the color of my clan. He presumes too much.”

It wasn’t unusual for
sfaras
to be color mandatory. But I wasn’t a member of Julian’s clan, and it was an insult for him to request that I wear his colors. Each clan was recognized by the color of their dragon scales. Alasdair’s was red, which worked out well because he thought it appropriate for his clan to represent the blood of the hunt. I knew from experience that fresh blood was almost black and dried dark brown. It was my firsthand experience that made the upcoming
sfara
the last place I wanted to be.

“He wants you to feel at ease. Wearing your own colors will only bring animosity toward you from the others.”

“It doesn’t matter. Everyone will know who I am. They’ll smell my clan on my skin. I will always be the daughter of Alasdair, and wearing Julian’s colors won’t stop their hatred or their curiosity. I’ll not bend to Julian’s will. Red is the color of my clan, and that is what I’ll wear.”

“So be it,” she said, a measure of respect in her eyes and an odd smile. “Now, let’s see about getting you something to eat. We’ve got many things to do. My name is Eunice, by the way.”

She took my arm and led me to the solarium. It was the only room on the main floor I’d seen that wasn’t black. Watery light filtered through the large expanse of windows that overlooked a lush garden. There was green as far as the eye could see, and no sign of the city traffic that bustled just outside the gates. The rain fell hard, and I watched as fat leaves bounced rhythmically beneath the assault of water.

The tile in the solarium was textured and the color of sand. The walls a buttery yellow. An oblong table made of dark wood sat in the middle of the room and was already laid out with food. Eunice gestured to a seat, and I gladly sat down to satisfy my hunger.

“I don’t mean to be rude,” I said, lifting the lid on one of the silver platters, “but there are some things I need to see to today. I don’t know what Julian has put you up to, but I believe whatever it is, is probably unnecessary. I don’t need a babysitter.” I heaped my plate full of bacon and sausage. I sniffed at the scrambled eggs and curled my lip, but I put some on my plate anyway. I needed the extra protein.

“Don’t worry. You’ll have plenty of time to speak to other members of our clan. They wouldn’t talk to you anyway without Julian’s permission.”

I narrowed my eyes as she read my mind again. My shields didn’t seem to work with Fae magic, no matter how high I built them. I’d never had anyone breach my shields before I came to Belgium, so it was a new experience for me.

“I understand why you can read me,” I said. “Fae magic is not something I understand. But why can Julian and Xana read me? My abilities are strong.”

“I’m afraid they’ve got you at somewhat of a disadvantage. Julian is a very powerful Ancient. His father was a pureblood and his mother was a Drakán Descendent. One of the lost powers from our Realm was the ability to absorb another’s powers. It was a trait of only those of royal blood. So he uses my Fae magic whenever he feels it’s necessary.”

“So my powers are useless here?” My mind was screaming in revolt at this revelation. No wonder the Council was afraid of him and didn’t like to meet. They ran the risk of Julian absorbing their powers.

“Not completely. You need a mentor. Julian is concerned by your lack of power. He does not wish to have a mate who turns her back on her dragon and therefore closes off the potential to further her powers. And he’s right. You’ll eventually end up dead.”

“I have no intention of becoming Julian’s mate.”

“Your refusal lacks conviction. There’s no use lying to yourself.”

“I’d prefer if we just didn’t speak of Julian at all. Would you mind answering some questions? I could use an Ancient’s insight.”

She nodded her head, and it was then I noticed her ears were slightly pointed at the tops.

“Is it possible for the Prophecy to be wrong? Or, I don’t know”—I shrugged—“maybe even possible to change the outcome of the Prophecy?”

“The first thing you must realize about prophecies is that they are female in nature, which means they are reliable to a certain extent. The goddesses are fickle creatures and can stab you in the back just as they hold out their arms to catch you when you fall. Prophecies also hold a vagueness about them that could allow free will to interfere if necessary.”

That sounded just batshit crazy enough to be something the goddesses would do. I’d always secretly wondered if our lives were so long because it took an eternity for the gods and goddesses to decide what they wanted to do with us.

Eunice chuckled, a high-pitched laugh that sounded like bells ringing. “You know the story of how the gods banished the five warriors to this Realm because they couldn’t decide which of them would be king.”

I nodded in agreement.

“I can see from your memories that the new archives of your clan are lacking some of the knowledge of the original archives that were stolen. Allow me to illuminate on a few things that were missed. The goddess gave each warrior—Niklos, Gregori, Dimitris, Lucian and Thelos—a scroll containing the Prophecy after the Banishment. These five were the last purebloods our race has known, and they each did their best to create as many offspring as possible. Once the clans were plentiful in number, the five Archos set out to discover one another’s lairs so they could kidnap the female Drakán and try to mate with them. It was the only way to ensure the Promised Child would be born since both parents had to have Drakán blood.”

“But the five purebloods didn’t succeed in creating the Promised Child,” I said. “You’d think it would only be their power that was strong enough to ensure the salvation of our race.”

“The Prophecy says the Promised Child shares the blood of two descendants. It could be anyone. Anywhere. The five purebloods had their chance, but they all met with untimely deaths before they could breed with other Drakán females.”

“You were alive when this happened?” I asked. If this was true then Eunice could very well be the oldest Drakán in existence.

“Yes, though I was still a newling. As you know, Niklos was beheaded by his wife and torched. But the others shared a similar fate. Lucian was poisoned by an enemy and then turned to ash. Dimitris was killed in a terrible battle. Gregori was killed by another Drakán in a duel over a woman. And Thelos was captured by the Faeries and tortured before he was burned. The Faeries’ magic was powerful enough that they could emulate the heat of dragon fire and turn a Drakán to ash.”

“I didn’t know that.” I filed the information away. It gave me a new respect for Eunice’s powers.

“I wouldn’t expect you to know, but it’s not a secret. Just as it’s not a secret that Thelos was my father. But my mother was Faerie and her people didn’t care to have their royal princess stolen and impregnated by a dragon.”

“I can imagine. What about Julian’s parents? They were both Drakán. This is one of the things that led me here. You have to admit that there are aspects of Julian’s powers, combined with his parentage, that give me good reason to suspect him of being the Destroyer.”

“Maybe you should ask yourself if
you
think he is the Destroyer. Mates should know each other better than themselves. What does your heart tell you?”

“To stay away. And I’ve already told you, I have no plans of becoming Julian’s mate. No matter what he says.”

Eunice sat there and stared at me patiently until I felt I had to explain.

“I know that there’s an attraction between us. A need comes over me whenever he’s near. I won’t belong to anyone, and I’d never let him have that much control over me. It’s best I leave before things get too far out of hand.”

I realized I was moving the cooling eggs around on my plate instead of eating them, and I set my fork down deliberately on the table. I needed to get back in control and not let Eunice distract me from my goal.

“I also don’t trust Julian,” I said. “His psychic power makes mine look inconsequential.”

“Julian is unique in many ways, but he is not who you are seeking,” she said. “The human world is vast, and the Drakán are not the only race to have lost their homeland. It would benefit you to remember that in your search for the Destroyer.”

“What the hell is that supposed to mean? Does that mean the Destroyer isn’t Drakán? I couldn’t care less about any other creatures or what has happened to them at this point. No offense.”

“None taken. And yes, the Destroyer is most definitely Drakán. Julian’s parentage has never been a secret among our own clan, or a secret from the other Archos. I can’t say that is always the case for other Drakán who share similar parentage. Many of them relish their privacy.

“You know that Julian’s father was Dimitris. But did you know that Dimitris was the most feared of the five warriors? He was of royal blood, a prince of the Realm, and the true heir to the throne. He was the cruelest of all the Drakán, and he was very angry the gods didn’t choose him as king just because he was the next in line.”

“Then Julian should have the right to call himself king until the Promised Child is found.”

“I agree, but Julian is not his father and he wouldn’t presume to second-guess the gods as Dimitris would. Julian knows well how cruel his father was. Dimitris was a warrior so fierce it was said no woman would bed him voluntarily for fear of being torn in two by his ferocity. He saw all things in terms of battle, and he constantly schemed to eliminate the offspring of the other Archos so they could not produce the Promised Child.”

“What happened?”

“Dimitris set out to find Gregori’s clan first. This was long after he created his plan to kill your own grandfather. It took Dimitris more than two hundred years to track them down, and by then Gregori had hundreds of children and human mates in his clan. I was a newling when this happened, barely a hundred myself, but I remember the stories of destruction as if it were yesterday.

“Dimitris tore through Gregori’s compound with a vengeance, destroying all that was in his path, until he came upon Ileana in her bathing chamber. He was love-struck—the beauty of her body and the fire in her eyes an aphrodisiac he couldn’t resist. He changed to dragon form and took her. He flew her to a place no one could find—a place on the other side of the world just on the edge of this Realm and the next. They were surrounded by water and couldn’t be tracked. Not by her family. Not by his.

“Dimitris’ clan thought he was dead and roamed aimlessly, waiting to see if another Archos would rise to power. But Dimitris was still very much alive. He bedded Ileana every night for a century against her will until she bore him a son. When Julian was born, Dimitris wrapped him tightly in the stars and sent him to me to care for. He knew I held no allegiance to my father, Thelos, and that I’d chosen to live with the Faeries. Ileana was so enraged that he took her child—because she truly did love Julian—that she challenged Dimitris in battle.

“It is said their battle lasted years. Julian heard the stories of his parents’ war even among my people. But by the end, both of their wounds were so severe that Ileana finally set flame to them both, just to end the misery. They cursed each other as they turned to ash.”

I was horrified for the child. Drakán children were our most precious possessions because they were our future. For Julian to be thrown into the middle of a battle at conception was beyond reprehensible. It certainly explained a lot about his personality.

“So Julian was raised among the Faeries?” I asked.

“Yes, after Thelos kidnapped my mother and she bore me, she gave her own life to send me to live with her family in the Realm of the Fae. I don’t remember her, but I thank the gods daily that she sacrificed her life so I could know the other half of my heritage. Because I wouldn’t have gotten to raise Julian if she hadn’t. He is like my own son.”