Prologue

Chicago - February 21, 2008

The Pyr gathered at Erik’s lair for the eclipse.

Erik’s lair was in a warehouse that had been partly
converted to lofts. It was large and industrial and in a
lousy part of town. Rafferty wondered who would see the
high council of dragons on the roof of the building and
what they would make of the scene. The idea made him smile.

As usual, Rafferty was hopeful that, this time, the
firestorm would be his. He was older and he had waited
longer, though even his legendary patience was thinning.
The Great Wyvern had a plan for each of them: Rafferty
believed that with all his heart.

So, he would wait his turn as well as he could.

The company stood on the roof, watching the moon slip into
the earth’s shadow. It took on the hue of blood, casting
the earth in surreal light.

“Quickly,” Erik said with more than his usual
impatience. “The full eclipse will last less than half an
hour this time.” Rafferty understood Erik’s concern: this
was the third of the full eclipses, three in a row before
the final battle between Pyr and Slayer. After this
eclipse, the die would be cast and the battle for
ascendancy over the planet’s fate would begin in earnest.
Rafferty wasn’t sure how that would manifest precisely, but
he wasn’t looking forward to it. He knew enough about old
prophecies to respect them, even when they were ominous and
enigmatic.

Especially when they were ominous and enigmatic.

Once on the roof, the Pyr shifted shape in unison. At this
eclipse, they were joined by the two most recent human
mates, both of whom were pregnant. Quinn, the Smith, was
scaled in sapphire and steel in dragon form; his mate Sara,
the Seer, stood petite and fair at his side. Donovan, the
Warrior, took his lapis lazuli and gold dragon form; while
his tall and dark-haired mate Alex, the Wizard, looked on
with pride. There were two strong partnerships made at this
vortex of change.

This would be the third, if the Pyr could make it work.

Rafferty intended to do what he could to help.

Erik turned to an onyx and pewter dragon, while Rafferty
became an opal and gold dragon. Sloane had brought Delaney
and kept him between himself and Niall, although Rafferty
suspected that it was Delaney who was most worried about
what might happen.

After all, the spark in Delaney’s eyes was much brighter.
Rafferty believed that Sloane’s treatment was working and
that the darkness inflicted upon Delaney was steadily
diminishing.

Sloane changed form, his tourmaline scales shading from
green to purple and back again, each one edged in gold.
Niall, meanwhile, became a dragon of amethyst and platinum,
glittering in the light. Delaney changed to an emerald and
copper dragon. Nikolas of Thebes, new to this ceremony,
shifted to a dragon of anthracite and iron, then quietly
observed. Unlike the other Pyr and Slayers, Nikolas had no
scent by which his presence could be discerned, but his
presence was formidable.

Erik murmured the ancient blessing once they were all in
dragon form. Rafferty watched Erik spin the Dragon’s Egg,
saw the moon’s light touch the round dark stone. Gold lines
appeared upon its surface almost immediately, prompting a
startled gasp from both Alex and Nikolas who had never seen
its abilities before. Rafferty watched hungrily as the gold
lines triangulated a location.

Would this be his chance? The Dragon’s Egg glistened as
Erik leaned closer to read its portent.

“London,” a woman’s voice said from behind them all.
Rafferty pivoted to find the Wyvern lounging against the
fire escape, still in her human form.

He doubted that he was the only one surprised to find her
there. Sophie was wearing a white skirt that floated around
her ankles. Her long blonde hair was loose and flowed down
her back. She looked as much like a graceful swan - one
made of glass or moonlight - as she did in dragon form.

How did she keep herself from shifting shape under the
eclipse’s light?

She smiled as she regarded them, smiled so knowingly that
Rafferty wondered whether she had heard his thoughts.

She strode closer and crouched down beside the Dragon’s
Egg. “Why don’t we ask it to tell us something we don’t
know?” It wasn’t like her to be so direct and Rafferty was
concerned. If Sophie felt urgency, matters were worse than
he had believed.

“I do not have your skill, especially as you choose not to
share it,” Erik said in old-speak. His irritation was
clear.

“Listen,” Sophie bade him in old-speak, the single word
resonating in Rafferty’s chest. She murmured a chant. It
was short and wordless, either a string of sounds or a
language forgotten. It sounded old to Rafferty. Potent.

She repeated it and Erik echoed the sound. She nodded
approval and beckoned to him. Erik leaned over the Dragon’s
Egg at her urging and the two of them chanted in unison,
Erik’s voice gaining strength as he learned the chant.

Then Sophie blew on the dark globe of stone. The golden
lines disappeared immediately, like ripples blown from the
sand, and a woman’s face came into view. She could have
been swimming to the surface of a lake, her hair streaming
back and her eyes closed.

Then she opened her eyes and looked directly at Erik. Even
from his position, Rafferty could see that her eyes were a
glorious blue. The hair that flowed around her face was
wavy and chestnut brown. Her hair billowed, as if she was
under water and it moved with the current.

Erik recoiled in shock. “Louisa!”

“Yes,” the woman murmured, as if remembering something she
had half-forgotten. “Yes, I was called that, once.”

Erik stared at the Dragon’s Egg.

“This time, my name is Eileen Grosvenor,” the woman said,
her words clearly enunciated. She raised a hand and, moving
as if he couldn’t do otherwise, Erik extended a talon
toward her. When there was only a handspan between them, a
spark leapt from the water to Erik’s claw.

Erik swore and took a step back. The woman smiled so
brilliantly that the Dragon’s Egg was lit from within. Then
she took a deep breath, closed her eyes and sank out of
sight. Her hair flowed around and over her, then the ends
disappeared with a flick.
She might have been a mermaid or a siren.

Erik gave a cry and seized the Dragon’s Egg just as the
eclipse ended. The stone turned black again, reverting to
the smooth orb of obsidian stone it usually was, but a
crackle of sparks lurked beneath Erik’s talons.

“How can this be?” he demanded of the Wyvern.

Sophie straightened and smiled as the Pyr shifted back to
human form around her. She gave Delaney a hard look, then
nodded once at Sloane. “You are half-done,” she said. “Do
not falter without banishing the shadow completely.”

By the time Sloane had nodded agreement, Sophie had turned
and walked to the lip of the roof. She lifted her arms over
her head, laughed as the wind teased her skirts, and leapt.

Rafferty was the first to reach the edge. Even having
guessed what he would see, he was still surprised.

Below them a white dragon soared, long white plumes
streaming behind her. She glinted in the changing light,
reflecting and refracting the hue cast by the moon, like a
dragon carved of crystal. She ascended and turned a tight
curve over the roof, leaving the Pyr staring after her with
awe.

She flew straight up into the dark sky, heading directly
for the moon, then abruptly disappeared. The sky was clear
and there was nowhere for her to be hidden. She simply had
vanished, as suddenly as she had appeared.

“I hate when she does that,” Donovan muttered. Rafferty
didn’t agree, not this time. No matter how often he saw
her, Rafferty found that Sophie’s appearance gladdened his
heart. He realized what a gift it was to have her among
them. He felt as if there was a greater force on their
side, on the side of right, and he was touched by her
beauty, as well.

There could only be a single Wyvern, but in his many
centuries, he had never known a Wyvern to be as actively
engaged with the Pyr as Sophie was.

Rafferty found Nikolas beside him, the other Pyr’s dark
eyes wide with astonishment. “She is real, then,” he
whispered. “I thought that I dreamed her presence before.”

“She didn’t stay long enough to be introduced. Her name is
Sophie,” Rafferty said. “She is the Wyvern, a prophetess
who has skills far beyond our own.”

“I know who she is,” Nikolas murmured, avidly seeking some
sign of her presence.

“Her prophecies only count if you understand them,” Quinn
noted and Sara smiled.

Nikolas’s wonder was undiminished. “If we do not
understand, then we are not worthy of the prophecy,” he
said stiffly. “Praise be to the Great Wyvern that such
beauty exists.” He put his hand over his heart and bowed
his head in an attitude of prayer.

Erik was still staring into the Dragon’s Egg, his features
pale. “Louisa,” he whispered, raising his gaze to meet
Rafferty’s. “It can’t be true.”

Rafferty knew that it was, no matter how Erik might wish
for it to be otherwise. He didn’t remember all of Erik’s
history, but suspected that his firestorm hadn’t been a
success.

How lucky Erik was to have a second chance!

It was fitting, though, that the leader of the Pyr be
proven before their greatest challenge. All the same,
Rafferty knew that Erik might need his help.

“Stay with me in my lair in London,” he invited. “We’ll
find your firestorm together.”

He was relieved when Erik, ever independent, nodded
agreement.

The first firestorm had ended badly, then. Rafferty hoped
with all his heart Erik and his mate could conquer their
past.

Together.