Sparks Fly: A Novel of the Light Dragons (7 page)

“Bet Pavel wouldn’t starve my magnificent form with crap burgers.”

“It looks delicious, Aisling,” May said as she took a seat next to me.

“Bet Gabe wouldn’t, either.”

“I hope you like it. Suzanne felt we had some standards to live up to,” Aisling said with pride as she skirted Jim and pulled out a chair.

Jim sighed and slumped over so its head was resting in its bowl. “Can I have the leftovers?”

“No,” Aisling told it. “Eat your healthy burger.”

“You didn’t even have Suzanne make me proper fries. These are sweet potato fries.”

“You love sweet potato fries, and so help me god, Jim—”

“I’m eating, I’m eating. But if I waste away to nothing and you have to get me another form because this one is skin and bones, I’m going to pick an elephant or something. Then you’ll really be sorry when it’s time to take me for walkies.”

Luckily for Jim, the tempting dishes before us served as an ample distraction to keep Aisling from carrying through with her threat to banish it to the demon version of limbo. A short time later, when we were done moaning that we had all eaten too much of the wonderful lunch, Aisling called the meeting to order.

“On our agenda today—” Aisling stopped as the door to the library was thrown open with a flourish.

“Am I late?” asked the woman who stood there, her blue eyes lighting on the remaining food. “Oh goody, I’m not too late. Is that beetroot? I
love
beetroot!”

“Cyrene,” I said, blinking a couple of times in astonishment
at the sight of May’s twin when she hurried over to the table and helped herself. “I didn’t know…that is, I wasn’t aware…er…” I cast a helpless glance at May and Aisling.

May gave a weak smile. “I meant to warn you that Cyrene was back in town, Aisling. She…uh…showed up last night to spend the night with us, and heard Gabriel mention the Mates’ Union meeting.”

“Butternut squash gnocchi!” Cyrene squealed as she hauled over a chair and sat down with her loaded plate. “How did you know I loved butternut squash? Oh, and the union? Totally fabulous idea, Aisling. I’m so in on it.”

“I wasn’t…eh…I didn’t think you would be interested in a mates’ union,” Aisling said, clearly floundering with the rest of us. “Drake never said anything about…and you’re not really…are you?”

“Am I what?” Cyrene asked around a mouthful of trout and gnocchi.

“What she means is, did the K-man lose his mind and take you back, or are you still boinking Neptune?” Jim said, spitting out a piece of parsley garnish. “You gonna eat that last bit of trout?”

“Lose his mind!” Cyrene sputtered, outraged. “As if Kostya would have to lose his mind to beg me on his knees to return to him, which is naturally what has happened since I’m here now, aren’t I?”

May, who had more insight into her twin than the rest of us, watched her with a wariness that was telling. “If you’re back with Kostya, then why did you spend last night with us?”

“Kostie-kins has been out of town,” Cyrene said, waving away the question with her fork. “You know how lonely I get, so I’m sure he’d want me to stay with you until he gets back.”

Aisling opened her mouth as if to speak but instead tipped her head on the side as she listened. A slow smile
lit her eyes as she said simply, “Well, I’m glad to see you again, Cyrene, although I have a feeling you’re not going to be quite so happy in about thirty seconds.”

I caught the rumble of masculine voices at the same time May did, both of us turning to the door seconds before it opened and two men strolled in.

“I know you are having your meeting,” the man in the lead said, his green eyes glittering with some secret amusement as he strolled over toward Aisling. “But it would be a rudeness for us to not greet May and Ysolde—” He came to a halt at the sight of the fourth person at the table.

“Good afternoon, Drake,” I said, watching with interest as his older brother froze with a horrible expression of complete and utter disbelief on his otherwise handsome face. “Kostya, it’s nice to see you again. I’m glad you’re here, actually; I was planning on giving you a call while I was in town.”

“What is she doing here?” Kostya asked, pointing at Cyrene and sucking in approximately half of the oxygen left in the room.

“Kostie!” Cyrene squealed after looking disconcerted for a moment. “You’re back! Lambkins!”

Kostya, I noted absently, was looking much more like his old self. I remembered him well from my past as Baltic’s former heir, and the man who had stood by him for many centuries—until the day he decided to kill Baltic. He’d always been a darkly handsome man, with the black eyes and onyx hair so common in black dragons. But when I’d been reintroduced to him a few months before, he’d been thin to the point of gaunt, having suffered, so Aisling informed me, from imprisonment and starvation at the hands of lawless, septless dragons.

Now he was looking much healthier, breadth and depth returning him to an impressive figure of a man, and although I’d be the last person to ever apply the
word “happy” to Kostya, his expression the last month had been much more relaxed.

Kostya sidestepped Cyrene as she leaped from the chair and tried to throw herself on him. “I am not your lambkins, and I will thank you to refrain from flinging your person at me.”

“Oh, Kostie,” Cyrene said with a simper, flashing glances around us. “Silly dragon, thinking you ever stopped being my one true love.”

May groaned as Aisling rubbed her hand over her face, shaking her head. Drake moved to her side, his hands on her shoulders as he watched his brother. I watched Kostya, too, interested to see what he’d do.

“Silly dragon?” Kostya roared, his expression as dark as his hair as he glared at Cyrene. “You left me! You made me name you as a mate—despite the fact that you
aren’t
a wyvern’s mate—in front of all the weyr, and then you left me six weeks later!”

“I didn’t really leave you. I just had to go do some…er…work….”

“You told me I was a beast and cruel and wasn’t worth the ground you walked on!” Kostya stormed. “You said you hated me, and that you were going away to live with some water god, and you never wanted to see me again.”

Cyrene, with another glance at the rest of us, tried to put her hand on his arm, but he snatched it back with a disbelieving glare. “Now, dumpling, I’m sure the others aren’t interested in our silly little squabbles—”

“Squabbles!” Kostya bellowed, sucking in the remainder of the air in obvious preparation for continuing at that volume.

“Cyrene, I think now is not the time to have this discussion,” May said, taking her twin and pushing her toward the door. “You’re just upsetting everyone, and if Kostya continues to yell like that, he’ll wake Aisling’s babies.”

“But I’m a mate,” Cyrene protested as May forced her out of the room. “This is a mates’ meeting. I should be here.”

The door closed on May’s soft murmurs, leaving the room highly charged.

“Wow,” Jim said, snuffling Kostya’s legs until the dragon narrowed his eyes. “Never thought she’d have the balls to try to sweet-talk her way back into your good graces. You’re not going to take her back, are you? ’Cause if you are, I’m going to want to have a video camera handy to film it. It isn’t often you see a wyvern emasculate himself over a chick.”

“Aisling,” Kostya growled in warning.

“Jim, silence. Don’t you give me that look—you know better than to say things like that, especially to Kostya. Although…” She glanced up at Drake. “Although I do admit to wondering if you’re intending on taking her back, Kostya. Not that it’s any of our business, but…er…I wondered.”

“As did I,” I said, noting that Kostya looked as if he wanted to set fire to something. Or more likely, someone.

To my surprise, he shot an unreadable look at me. “Why do you care? You aren’t going to try to make me believe you have any fondness for me, too, are you?”

It took me a moment to find the words. “I have always been fond of you, Kostya, right up to the point where you killed Baltic, and then, obviously, I had a change of heart. But lately, I’ve been reminded that you weren’t entirely bad, although I could do without your breaking Baltic’s nose all over the place.”

“Twice. I’ve broken it twice in the last few months, and he broke mine as many times, so we’re even,” Kostya protested, rubbing his nose. He stopped and squinted at me. “You want something from me, don’t you? I can tell. I can always tell when a woman wants something.”

“Of course I want something. I want my house back.”

Kostya took a deep breath. “Dragonwood is mine.”

“Baltic built it for me! I designed the gardens!”

“It belongs to the black wyvern, and thus it’s mine now,” Kostya argued. “Unless you have something of equal value you wish to exchange for it?”

“I have money. Well, Baltic does,” I said slowly, knowing full well that all of Baltic’s resources were being funneled into the rebuilding of Dauva. Although it went against the grain to buy what truly belonged to me, perhaps Kostya could be tempted into an arrangement. “How much were you thinking of?”

“I would not sell Dragonwood for mere money,” Kostya scoffed. “You have nothing else of value to offer?”

“Me, personally? I have my love token.” I touched the chain around my neck, the small oval of silver that hung from it tucked warmly between my breasts. “But its value is sentimental rather than material.”

“I wouldn’t take the love token that Baltic made for you,” he said, outrage flitting through his eyes before he added with a grin, “He almost severed his fingers engraving it.”

“He told me it was the hardest thing he’d ever done because he doesn’t have a single artistic bone in his body,” I said, sharing a remembered moment with Kostya, my smile matching his. “He was so proud of it, though.”

The smile faded from Kostya’s face. “You have nothing with which to bargain, then? So be it.” He held up a dismissive hand when I opened my mouth to protest his cavalier manner. “I have relinquished my rightful claim on Dauva; that is as far as I will bend, Ysolde. The matter is settled, as is the situation with Cyrene. I have called next week’s
sárkány
for the purpose of rescinding my statement regarding her, so after that time, she will have no formal standing either in my sept or the weyr.”

“Kostya, you know how much that house means to
me—” I started to say, getting to my feet, intending on pleading with him.

He shot Drake a harried look, then made a formal bow to both Aisling and me. “I will see you later, Aisling. Good day, Ysolde.”

I bit my lip as he strode off, damning him for being so obstinate. “Next time maybe I’ll save Baltic the trouble of breaking his nose and do it myself.”

“It’s tempting sometimes, I admit,” Aisling said.

Drake shot her a look.

“Sorry, sweetie, but even you have to admit that sometimes when Kostya gets on his high horse, he’s impossible to take.”

“And yet right is on his side in this,” Drake said, taking the glass of dragon’s blood wine that Aisling poured for him. “The house does belong to him.”

“It does not—” I started to say.

“Now, hang on here,” Aisling interrupted, suddenly looking thoughtful as she turned to me. “Ysolde, I think we’ve had a breakthrough.”

“In what way?”

“Who’s had a breakthrough?” May asked as she slipped into the room with a muttered apology for her twin’s scene.

“Kostya.” Aisling eyed me speculatively.

I frowned, confused. “I don’t see how.”

“He offered to trade Dragonwood for something. He’s never done that before, has he?”

“No,” I said slowly, thinking that point over. “He’s always been adamant that the house belongs to the black dragons, and as he’s the wyvern, it does. You know, I think you’re right, Aisling. I think this may well be the breakthrough I’ve been looking for.”

“Yes, but now you need something to trade for it. I don’t suppose Baltic would give up Dauva?”

I sighed. “The only things that stand higher than Dauva in Baltic’s affections are Brom, Pavel, and me. So no, trading Dauva for Dragonwood is out of the question. I need something else, something of great value that he would want. Hmm.”

“I’d offer you the dragon shard that chose our sept, but…well, I’m not sure that’s kosher, so to speak,” May said. “Not to mention that Gabriel wouldn’t let the shard go.”

“No, I wouldn’t take your shard,” I said, smiling at May. The fact that she, too, had once borne the same shard of the dragon heart, most important relic of all dragonkin, that I had borne so many centuries ago, made me feel especially comfortable around May, as if we were old, old friends. “I can only imagine what the First Dragon would have to say about the idea of us using the shards to buy something so esoteric as a house.”

“Jim, will you stop it?” Aisling frowned at the big black demon as it rubbed its nose on her hand. “If you need to go walkies, you are excused.”

“Baltic doesn’t have any big stacks of gold lying around his lair?” May asked, looking as thoughtful as Aisling did. “Not that I’m trying to pry, but you know how dragons are about gold—I’d think that even Kostya could be swayed by it.”

I glanced at Drake, who was watching Aisling with a glint in his eyes that hinted he’d rather be alone with her. “Er…that’s pretty much earmarked for Dauva, I’m afraid.”

“No valuable—Jim, so help me, if you wipe your nose on me one more time—no valuable, oh, what do you call them, dragonny things?”

“Dragonny things?” Drake asked her.

“You know, the valuable things. Relics and that sort of
stuff. Jim! That’s it! I am sick and tired of you. You can speak again, so go tell Suzanne you need to go for a walk.”

“I don’t have any relics, and Kostya cleaned out Baltic’s lair before we got to it, so I’m afraid anything that was stashed away is long gone,” I said sadly, my heart breaking when I thought of my beloved Dragonwood being inhabited by strange dragons.

“Man, Ash, I’m never going to be on your team for charades,” Jim said with an injured sniff. “I wasn’t doing the pee-pee dance, I was doing the ‘I have something important to say but you keep ordering me to silence because you’re all bossy now that you have spawn to push around’ nose bumps.”