The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

Chapter Twelve

“You bastard,” I told Drake, taking him and most likely everyone else in the room by surprise. I know I surprised myself with the sudden blast of fury that swept through me, setting Drake’s feet alight with dragon fire.

His eyebrows rose as he glanced down at his feet.

“You hate Baltic so much you would do anything to keep him from being part of the weyr, wouldn’t you?” I said, my voice husky with emotion. I wanted to strike him, to call down destruction and mayhem.

“Mate—” Baltic said, getting to his feet.

“Hey, now!” Aisling interrupted, stepping between Drake and me. “Drake wouldn’t do something like that.”

I glared over her shoulder at him, my hands fisted. His jaw tightened, his eyes spitting green fire as I snarled, “You puling little worm. Do you think that because much of the past has been lost to me I do not know of the treachery you tried to perform on Baltic?”

The memory rushed at me, hot and fast, and I jerked it forward, wrapping it around us all.

I heard May gasp as the sunlight of the room shimmered and changed into that cast by a row of flickering torches along a stone passageway. Drake stood before us, but it was another Drake, a Drake of the past, clad in chain mail, holding a sword on a woman as she screamed at him.

“Holy cow! Are we in another vision? We are! Is that Drake? Oh, my god! What are you doing to him, Ysolde?”

We stood as shadows in the memory of that moment in the past, watching the scene that resonated deep within my soul.

“Why do you not stop him? Why do you not stop this madness?” the past Ysolde demanded of Drake. “He’s your brother! Do you want to see him wyvern so badly that you would participate in Baltic’s death?”

“I am not the one who is mad,” Drake growled back at her. “Your mate has brought his own end upon himself.”

“Your brother and your blood brother have sworn to kill Baltic, and still you claim you are not involved? Who gave the silver dragons support when they needed it? Who has lent aid and men to Kostya when he would attack Dauva? Who betrayed Baltic and me in St. Petersburg? If Baltic dies, his blood will stain your soul, Drake Fekete, for you will be as much responsible for his murder as they will be.”

“Move out of the way, Lady Ysolde,” Drake said in a low, mean voice. “I do not wish to do you ill, but I will if you press me.”

“I will see you in hell before I let you harm Baltic!” she screamed, lunging at him, the glint of silver in her hand.

“Drake! Oh, my god!” Aisling yelled as Ysolde attacked. She did no more than graze his neck with the dagger before Drake flung her off, sending her flying backward into the wall. She connected with it with a horrible bone-cracking noise, sliding down it to lie in a crumpled heap on the floor.

“Brother! Where—Christos, is that Ysolde? What have you done to her?” Kostya emerged from the yawning black archway that led to the cellars, his armor and sword covered in blood.

Drake knelt next to the fallen Ysolde. “She is unconscious only. She tried to kill me.”

“Leave, Drake. This fight is not yours,” Kostya said, sheathing his sword in order to scoop my limp form into his arms. “I will take her abovestairs.”

“You are my brother. I promised you support, and I will not withdraw now, when you have need of me.”

“I don’t need your help. Can you not hear the sounds of battle? Constantine is at the gate. I will do what must be done, but you have already risked your future for my sake. I will ask no more of you. Return to Buda and the green dragons.”

Drake hesitated. “I would see this to its end, Kostya.”

“That will be upon us shortly. Go, Drake. Go out with Constantine’s forces, if you will, but I will not have Fodor say you participated in the death of a wyvern. Baltic is my responsibility.”

“He is your curse, you mean,” Drake said, his face impassive as Kostya carried me down the hallway, calling after him. “If you do not end it now, I will do so myself.”

Drake’s head snapped back, the sound of flesh striking flesh jerking us all out of the vision. “I . . . haven’t . . . forgotten,” I told him, rubbing my bruised fingers.

“OK, that’s going too far,” Aisling said, shoving me aside. “No one hits Drake! I know that some stuff went on in the past that no one is proud of, but that’s no reason to hit him now! Are you all right, sweetie?”

Baltic shook his head as he pulled me gently into his arms. “Always you were one to think with your heart and not your head. Ysolde, Ysolde . . . and people say I am violent beyond reason.”

“He had it coming,” I said, nursing my fingers for a moment before sanity returned. “I apologize for punching you in the eye, Drake. I was caught up in the emotion of the moment, and that wasn’t well done of me. However, I don’t appreciate you making up lies about Baltic.”

Drake stiffened under Aisling’s ministrations, gently moving her to his side as he glared at me, one eye slightly swollen and turning dark. “I do not lie!”

“Baltic didn’t let Fiat out!” I said loudly.

“His lieutenant did.”

“He couldn’t have, because he wasn’t even in Italy. He’s been in Riga, and then here,” I told them all.

“It’s true, mate.”

“And I’m just sick and tired of you guys believing the worst of Baltic! What is it with you people that you can’t, just once, believe what we’re saying? Why can’t you—” I stopped and turned to glance up at Baltic. “What?”

“Thala released Fiat.”

I think my jaw dropped at that. I’m not absolutely certain, but I have a nasty feeling that I stood there for a good five seconds staring at him in openmouthed surprise. “She did?”

“Yes.”

I prodded his arm when he said nothing more. “Why did she do that?”

“Did you ask her to free Fiat?” Aisling asked at the same time.

“If I had wanted Fiat free, I would have seen to it myself,” Baltic told her with grandiose hauteur.

“Then why did Thala set him free?” I repeated.

“I don’t know. She has become secretive of late. She said only that it would help achieve our goals.”

“You didn’t stop her,” Gabriel said, his body language showing just how angry he was, despite his placid expression. “Do you expect us to believe that you will not benefit from Fiat being at your beck and call?”

Baltic sighed. “No, I do not expect you to believe that, but that is because you delight in attributing to me the most heinous of motives. And yet the truth is that Fiat threatened to kill Ysolde and Brom. I was delighted that he was in the custody of the blue dragons, and I did not want him released.”

“He threatened to kill us?” My voice was downright squeaky with surprise. “Why?”

Baltic maintained a stony expression.

“Why?” I asked again, nudging his arm.

His brows pulled together. “I will tell you later, when we are alone.”

“That sort of attitude is just going to make everyone suspicious. Why would Fiat want Brom and me dead?”

“There are times,” Baltic answered, breathing heavily, “when I long for the days with my old Ysolde.”

“Oh, I would have pestered you without mercy until you answered me back then, too.”

He grinned, taking me by surprise. “Yes, you would have. You would have me bare my soul before other wyverns without the slightest regard for my consequence or tradition, just as you do now.”

“I’m here to keep you humble,” I agreed, and waited.

He flicked a glance at the other men, all of whom wore expressions of sympathy. “Fiat blamed me for his current situation. He knew the worst thing he could do to me was to take you from me, so he was plotting with a group of his followers to have you and Brom captured and killed.”

My blood felt like ice in my veins. “Why didn’t you tell me this?”

“What good would it have done to do so? I would never allow anyone to harm you or my son, so it was of no concern to you. He was safely held by the blue dragons, and I knew his influence would not reach to you.”

I slapped my hand on his chest, drumming my fingers with more force than was absolutely necessary. “We are going to have a little talk later about sharing important information, Baltic.”

A familiar martyred look crept into his eyes. “I have no doubt that you intend to do so, but we have more pressing things to discuss.”

“Was that where you were instead of Riga the other day? In Italy checking up on Fiat?”

“Yes. I was uneasy when I heard that ouroboros dragons had been seen in the area.”

“Why didn’t you stop Thala if you were there?” I asked.

His lips tightened. “She wasn’t in Italy when I was, nor did I know that she intended to free Fiat.”

“For the love of . . . Do you have any idea how hard it is to make people believe you’re innocent when stuff like this happens?”

He just looked at me.

I sighed. “All right, so I can’t blame you if Thala is acting without your instruction, but that doesn’t excuse the fact that you didn’t bother to tell me about Fiat making threats against Brom.”

“I am a wyvern,” he said simply. “To protect you is my right and duty.”

The other men nodded their agreement.

“Well, Mr. Duty, thanks to you, I have to apologize to that bast—to Drake.” I turned around to face him. “It appears I was in the wrong again, Drake. I’m sorry for the rude things I said regarding your attempt to besmirch Baltic’s good name. However, if you think that means he was responsible for the other blue dragon deaths, I will be tempted to punch you again.”

“You do, and you’ll have me to answer to,” Aisling said with enough menace in her voice that we all looked at her in surprise.

“Mate, you do not need to protect me,” Drake told her with an exasperated expression.

“She hit you!”

“I allowed her to strike me. Do you seriously believe I cannot keep a female from hurting me?”

“You let me hit you?” I asked. “Why?”

“Because the vision you brought forth reminded me that I had, in the past, treated you with less respect than I should have.”

Aisling made a face. “That’s true. All right, I forgive you for punching him, Ysolde. He did have that one coming. But no more, all right?”

I looked at Drake. “What does the weyr intend to do about Fiat, and Chuan Ren’s death? You’re not planning on holding Baltic responsible because Thala is a few meatballs short of a spaghetti dinner?”

“We are outside of the weyr, Ysolde,” Baltic said, pulling me back against him. “They have already declared war on us. What they think does not matter to our sept.”

Drake was silent for a moment, his gaze meeting those of Kostya and Gabriel before turning on us. “In this, Baltic is right. From what Bastian said, Fiat and Thala parted ways immediately after he was released. Why she sought freedom for him is unknown—perhaps your mate can determine that fact. From what Bastian has ascertained, Fiat flew immediately to Hong Kong and dispatched Chuan Ren. Although I regret the death of a fellow wyvern, that tragedy has made it clear that Fiat’s madness is more profound than we imagined.”

“I’m surprised he could take her down,” Aisling told May, who nodded. “Chuan Ren is one tough chick.”

“It surprises me as well,” Drake said darkly. “I suspect he did not act alone.”

“Thala?” I asked.

“I don’t believe so, no,” Drake said with a glance at Baltic.

“Who would help Fiat?” Aisling asked.

Drake made an elegant shrugging gesture.

I slipped my arm through Baltic’s. “What about the murder of the blue dragons? You can’t still think that Baltic had anything to do with that.”

Drake looked weary as he sat down, pulling Aisling down next to him. “We are here to discuss that situation, and I am willing to do so. Do you have new evidence to present?”

“Not as such, no,” I said, sitting on the arm of Baltic’s chair as everyone resumed his or her respective seats. “But I’m sure—”

“It is still a matter of your word against that of the survivors,” Gabriel interrupted. “I was there, Ysolde. I saw them myself. I heard one man name Baltic as being on the scene. If you have no fresh proof of his innocence, I do not see what more we can do.”

I looked at Baltic. He looked back at me.

“Well?” I said, prodding him on the shoulder.

“Well, what?”

“Why don’t you make them believe you?”

“I have said I did not kill the dragons. They chose not to believe me. There is nothing more I can do.”

“Yes, there is. You can tell them what you were doing in the area if you weren’t there killing off blue dragons.”

He was silent for a moment, his eyes calculating. A thought occurred to me at that moment, of someone who might be able to clear up the whole thing. “Thala!”

“What did she do now?” May asked, her fingers playing in Gabriel’s shoulder-length dreadlocks.

“She was there with you, wasn’t she?” I asked Baltic before turning back to the others. “She’s his alibi! Thala can tell you all that Baltic didn’t kill anyone.”

His fingers, which had been on my leg, tightened for a moment.

“I’m thinking that Thala’s not horribly high in the weyr’s esteem right now,” Aisling said softly.

“We asked her about the night in question,” Drake pointed out. “She said she knew nothing.”

“Of course she did. Did she tell you anything you wanted to know? I just bet you that she didn’t say a damned thing. She’s the most stubborn, obstinate . . . Well, that’s neither here nor there except that if you were to say she gave you any information, I’d be surprised.”

“She didn’t, as a matter of fact,” Gabriel admitted. “We all questioned her, but got nowhere.”

“That’s because you didn’t let me have a shot at her,” Kostya said, cracking his knuckles in an obnoxious fashion.

“Oh, please. She’d have chewed you up and spat you out,” I answered.

His expression turned black with outrage.

“I simply meant that you never could strike a woman, and I doubt if you’ve changed over the centuries. No, only Baltic can get Thala to talk, so that’s what we’ll do.”

“It is, is it?” asked the love of my life with deceptive blandness.

“Yes.” I glanced at him. “It’s important, Baltic.”

He looked as if he wanted to argue the point, but just shook his head in resignation.

“There, see? All fixed. Thala will clear Baltic, and the weyr can drop their war against us.”

May avoided meeting my eye. Aisling coughed and looked at Drake, nudging him when he didn’t say anything.

“What?” I asked them all. “Why are you giving me that odd look?”

“You are too honest,” Baltic said, pulling me close to him. “It does not occur to you, as it does the others, that Thala’s word would not be accepted as the truth.”

Would Thala lie? I thought that over for a minute or two, then conceded that she might well lie if it suited her purpose. “She would tell the truth if you told her to, wouldn’t she?” I asked Baltic.

He hesitated a moment, but that hesitation was all that was needed for Kostya.

“Even he cannot control his lieutenant,” Kostya scoffed. “Why should we believe her word against the proof of a witness?”

My hope for peace died at that moment, and with its death, all the frustration and anger and a strong sense of irritation that had built up over the last two months rolled around inside me, blending into something that had me spreading my arms wide and shouting, “I have had enough! By the rood, either the weyr will believe us when we say Baltic is innocent of the deaths of those dragons or I will make you all sorry you ever thought to doubt us!”

“She’s casting a spell,” May said, looking surprised.

“As the waning moon fades,” I bellowed, determined to make them see the truth once and for all.

“Ysolde,” Baltic said on a martyred sigh, “have you not learned? They will not be led.”

“Grant knowledge of what has passed!” Light formed in my hands, the bluish white light of arcane power, tipped with dragon fire.

Instantly, Drake and Gabriel sprang into action, shoving their respective mates down behind various substantial pieces of furniture, despite the women’s squawks of objection.

Kostya looked around for a moment, realized he had no one to protect, and with an annoyed noise, started toward me, clearly bent on stopping my spell.

Baltic leaped past me toward him, and the two of them went down.

“Bring forth wisdom in place of fear . . .”

Drake and Gabriel hurled themselves toward me, Aisling yelling something about wards, while May disappeared into thin air.

The light from my hands grew until it surrounded me, bathing me in the warmth of the dragon fire and the strength of the arcane power.

“. . . tolerance where there is only hate . . .”

Drake and Gabriel struggled to reach me, but the light held them back. Baltic slammed Kostya up against one of the glass-fronted cases, shattering the glass, his furious words punctuated by the gentle tinkle of shards striking the hardwood floor. “No one touches my mate!” he snarled.

“May!” Gabriel yelled. “Do not touch her! She will destroy you!”

Behind me, a shadow flickered, but I ignored it, focusing every iota of my being on the spell.

“. . . serenity where there resides anger.”

“I’ll slap a ward on her. Effrijim, I summon thee!”

“Oh, sure, now you summon me—hey, what’s going on?” The human form of Jim popped up into the range of my vision for a moment, before being yanked aside as Drake shoved both the demon and Aisling back to a large leather couch. “Why’s Ysolde lit up like a Christmas tree? Oh, man, she’s casting a spell that’s going to blow us all to Abaddon, isn’t she? Her hair’s standing all on end!”

I brought together my hands in a clap that resounded with such volume that the windows rattled. “By my grace, this I cast!”

For two seconds, everyone froze. No one so much as blinked while they all waited to see what was going to happen. I would be lying if I didn’t admit that I was of that group myself, praying that my magic would have returned to me.

The light expanded to fill the room, then suddenly contracted upon itself with a whipcrack sound, forming itself into the small round shape of an extremely surprised turtle. It fell a few inches to the table next to me, blinking in surprise at everyone standing frozen in the room.

I glared at the turtle for a moment, then kicked the chair nearest me. “Well, that is just the most disappointing thing yet! A turtle? Really? I put every ounce of intention I could into that spell, and all I get for it is a turtle? I could just scream!”

May emerged from nothing behind me, reaching out to touch the turtle. “It’s real,” she said, glancing at me with speculation. “Might I ask what it was you were trying to do to us?”

I slumped down into the chair. “I was trying to cast a clarity spell on you all, to bring you wisdom and enlightenment, so that you would see that we were telling the truth. A turtle. I made a turtle. Hell.”

“Abaddon,” Jim corrected, pulling out a cell phone to snap a picture of the turtle.

“Turtles are supposed to be wise, aren’t they?” Aisling asked Drake. “Maybe your spell made a wise turtle instead of bringing us wisdom.”

“I thought that was owls,” May said when Drake, with a quelling look at his mate, righted a few pieces of furniture that had been knocked over.

“Could be worse, Soldy,” Jim told me.

“I don’t see how,” I said, rubbing my forehead.

“Could be an elephant. So, what’s been going on? Why is Baltic holding Kostya by the scruff of his neck? Hey, Drake’s missing a tooth. Man, I miss all the good meetings!”