I am a big fan of Katie MacAlister and her dragon series.
THE UNBEARABLE LIGHTNESS OF DRAGONS was another great
installment in this series. Ysolde de Bouchier is a great
character. I love her spirit. She is a great woman always
ready and capable at holding her own. Her mate Baltic is
just as good a character as Ysolde. He may come off as
big and mean with all the other dragons but he has a big
soft spot when it comes to Ysolde and Brom.
As the two try to prove Baltic's innocence, the fun begins.
Ysolde learns many a new thing as she figures everything
out. Their latest adventure was a great story and had me
laughing out loud at times. Baltic has quickly become a
favorite. He loves Ysolde and Brom with his whole heart and
we see that many times throughout the story. I loved the
way he got around her wishes for him not to give Brom any
more spending cash during his visit to Gabriel. Ysolde
loves Baltic just as much and will fight to clear his name
no matter what. The two make a wonderful couple. Each
giving the other just what they need. I loved watching the
bond grow stronger by the minute between the two.
We not only get to know Ysolde and Baltic in this book but
we also get to visit with many of the other dragon's and
their mates and we cannot forget Jim. This book is full of
humor and romance keeping the reader entertained all the
way through. I love that each of the dragon's mates are
strong women that can and do stand and fight by their
sides. Ysolde is no exception to this and does everything
she can to defend Baltic.
Katie MacAlister weaves a wondrous story full of magic and
romance in this book. I cannot wait to see what happens
next in the lives of the dragons.
Even an ancient dragon can learn how to multitask…
Ysolde de Bouchier is a woman beset with trials. The
dragon part of her buried deep for centuries is still
making itself known, but in ways that just don’t make
sense. She’s continuing to have visions, but now they
involve events she wasn’t present to witness.
As if that isn’t enough, she’s caught up in a tangled web
of plans that seem to grow more complex each day. Not only
does she have to work out peace between her Light Dragon
mate Baltic and the weyr, she also has to free his friend,
convince an archimage to lift the spell controlling her
magic, figure out what it is that the First Dragon expects
her to do, rescue a half-dragon damsel in over her head,
and once and for all clear Baltic’s name of murder charges
that continue to plague him.
No one told Ysolde that dragon love would be so hard…
Excerpt
Chapter One
“Lady.”
Blinking at the sudden sound of a male voice, I turned to
see who was speaking, at the same time taking in the
noxious smells that wafted around me. I appeared to be in
some sort of a dark, rough alleyway that staggered between
two rows of tall, narrow houses, the overhangs of which
blocked out any streams of sunlight that might try to make
it down to the ground. Not that there was any sun to be
seen now, since it was nighttime, but I was willing to bet
that even on the hottest day of the year, the alley would
remain dank and unwelcoming.
A crude wooden door next to me bore an almost illegible
plaque informing unwary visitors that one Master Bertram
would mix pigments for a small fee.
“Painter’s shop,” I murmured to myself, my nose wrinkling
at the smell. I was used to the scent of items commonly
used to make paint—plants, ore, and such—but the odors
that assailed me had their origins with humans and
animals. I eyed an open barrel next to me that made my
eyes burn. Urine, no doubt, collected for the purposes of
making paint. “Just my luck—I haven’t had a vision for a
month, and when I get one, it has a great big barrel of
pee in it.”
“Dragon.”
The woman’s voice called my attention back from where I
was trying to avoid stepping on any of the refuse that
clogged the close alley. Skirting the urine barrel, I took
a few steps toward the dark figures that stood almost
invisible in the deep shadows cast by the buildings, faint
light from a couple of sputtering torches the only means
of illumination.
The distant sound of voices raised in song reached my ears
as in front of me, two figures approached each other.
“Why have you summoned me to Rothenburg?” the man demanded
to know in an arrogant, yet somehow familiar voice.
I took a couple of steps closer until I could see the face
of the speaker, dimly lit by a torch that leaned drunkenly
from a nearby iron sconce.
The woman’s form moved, blocking my view for a moment
before she shifted to the side. “You ignored the warnings.
You were told what would happen if you continued. Now you
must pay.”
I shifted to the side, my eyes widening as I watched
Constantine Norka, once a black dragon and rival heir to
the wyvern of that sept, laughed first at the woman, then
at the two men who emerged from the darkness behind
him. “Do you think to frighten me? I am afraid of no
dragon alive, and certainly not of you and your friends.”
The woman’s jaw tightened. The two guys behind Constantine
closed in, although they kept a respectable distance from
him.
“It will be our pleasure to teach you how wrong you’ve
been,” she said with a wholly unpleasant smile. “You
thought I did not mean what I said? Then you are foolish
as well as wrong.”
Constantine laughed again, shaking his head as if in
dismay when the woman’s hands started moving in an
intricate pattern that I knew was a harmful spell. “You
are here to chastise me, I suppose? I’m not the one who is
foolish, then. You have not heard that your precious
Baltic is no longer in the sept of the black dragons?”
What the hell? Was Constantine insane, or was I? Sometimes
it was hard to know the truth, since my memory of the last
five hundred years had been more or less wiped out. But
some of that had returned since I found Baltic two months
past, and I don’t remember a thing about this little
bombshell.
The woman checked, a frown between her brows as she said
quickly, “What nonsense is this?”
“It is the truth.” Constantine leaned casually against a
battered wooden door. “He was declared ouroboros at the
command of the First Dragon for crimes committed against
dragonkin. So not even you, who have Baltic in your
pocket, can change the fact that I will be named wyvern.”
The woman looked stunned for a few seconds, blinking
rapidly as she digested this information. I knew exactly
how she felt—if what Constantine said was true, when had
it happened? And why on earth hadn’t Baltic or someone
told me about it?
“I do not believe you,” she said, in a somewhat faltering
voice. “Baltic would not…what crime did he commit?”
Constantine shrugged. “It is of no matter to me whether
you believe me or not. I do not discuss sept business with
those outside the weyr, so if you wish to know more, you
will need to ask your pet himself.” A little sneer crept
over his face. “I’ve long said Baltic was a weakling; that
he hides behind a woman’s skirts proves the fact that he
is the basest of cowards, as well. How much did he pay you
to threaten me?”
Her hands fisted. “He did not send me, if that is what you
mean. I came of my own accord, as a friend to Baltic,
because I know well that you have done your best to usurp
his rightful position.”
Constantine snorted. “I am the heir to the wyvern of the
black dragons, mage, not Baltic. He did his best to
undermine that fact with Alexei, but it is I who am
victorious, while he is no longer even recognized as a
dragon.”
Alexei? That name rang a bell in the dim recesses of my
memory. He was the wyvern before Baltic. Which meant that
the time this vision was presenting must also be before
Baltic was wyvern…but that couldn’t be.
The woman swore under her breath. “This is some trickery
of yours, I am bound to believe. You said the dragon
ancestor was involved? How did you manage that?”
Her words came out with the velocity of a bullet. I
stepped back, not wanting to get within range of eye
contact with her.
“I am well known to the First Dragon,” Constantine bragged
with an easy smile. The two men behind him, evidently
hearing the confidence in his voice, moved back as
well. “But you are mistaken in thinking I had anything to
do with Baltic’s fall from grace. He managed that himself.”
The woman took a deep breath, her hands still fisted. “I
will investigate your claims, dragon. If they prove as
false as you are, then your suffering at my hands will
treble.”
Something wasn’t right. How could I be having a vision of
this time? I shook my head at the thought. I couldn’t. It
just wasn’t possible.
“Yet more threats. How I will live in fear,” Constantine
answered with obvious amusement.
“This doesn’t make any sense,” I said as I moved forward
until I was next to him. “I wasn’t even born until Baltic
had been wyvern for almost a hundred years. Constantine,
what is happening?”
The woman smiled again, and it was just as unpleasant as
the previous time. “I look forward to proving to you that
I am not to be taken lightly.”
“Hello? Can anyone hear me?” I waved my hand in front of
the woman’s face, but both she and Constantine obviously
didn’t register my presence, which made sense seeing as I
hadn’t been alive at this time. But why was I seeing this
moment in the past? And who on earth was this woman that
she felt comfortable speaking in such a threatening manner
to a powerful dragon?
“This conversation is putting me to sleep. If you are done
with your empty threats, I will leave you to practice your
vainglorious speeches.”
A little corona of blue-white light crackled around her at
Constantine’s words. I frowned at it, trying to remember
where I’d seen something similar, shaking my head when my
brain refused to cooperate.
“The day will come when you will regret those words,” she
warned.
“I regret only the amount of time I’ve wasted on you. You
lured me into your grasp by telling me you could aid me,
when all along it was Baltic you championed. I knew that,
of course, for despite your opinion, I am no fool, but it
amused me nonetheless to watch you cavort in your attempts
to promote his cause while hindering mine. Your antics are
no longer entertaining, however. Quite simply, Lady
Antonia, you bore me.”
The woman reached right through me to slap Constantine.
Both of us jumped. I stared at her with stark surprise,
examining her face. Lady Antonia. She had to be Antonia
von Endres, the famous archimage, and once Baltic’s lover.
I narrowed my eyes at her, wondering if that was why I had
been given the vision—to engage my jealousy? Enrage was
more like it…
“All right, I’m willing to admit that I’m lost,” I told
the pair. “The only other visions I’ve had have been
memories of my past that the dragon inside me used to try
to get me to remember who I am. I’ve never once seen one
where I wasn’t there in person. But assuming this is a
really pathetic attempt to incite jealousy, I have to tell
you guys that it’s failed. I’m not jealous of Baltic’s
relationships before he met me. Not in the least. They
don’t matter at all. Not even the fact that you would give
him your infamous light sword just because he was so
incredible between the sheets matters to me.” A little
belch of fire erupted around Antonia’s feet. I pretended I
didn’t see it.
Without another word, Antonia—not seeing the fire any more
than she had seen me—executed a one-eighty turn and
marched off into the darkness, her two bully boys
following with only brief smoldering glances at
Constantine as they passed him.
I watched until they all disappeared into the shadows,
then turned my gaze to Constantine. “You’re not going to
take that, are you?”
He ignored me, just as I assumed he would, instead rubbing
his face as he muttered something rude under his breath
before turning to walk away in the opposite direction.
“I guess you are going to take that. Well.” I looked
around the unkempt area, stared for a minute at the
nearest shuttered windows of the tall, narrow houses, and
made a frustrated gesture. A dog barked in the distance. A
rat sat on the edge of the urine barrel and considered me.
A duck wandered past, quacking softly to itself. “Now what
the hell am I supposed to do?” I asked no one in
particular.
My voice echoed against the building, growing louder and
louder until it seemed to fill my head with pounding,
nonstop noise.
“Stop!” I yelled, my hands over my ears as I doubled up in
pain.
“OK, but I thought you’d like them.”
My eyes shot open at the matter-of-fact voice. I looked
into the eyes of a nine year old boy, one who held a
portable music device in one hand, a black cord trailing
from it to my head. “Brom?”
“You don’t like Rampaging Wildebeests?” He looked at the
music player, then at me, his serious brown eyes
considering me with a perception that belied his nine
years. “OK, but you were dancing around like crazy
to ‘Take Me By the Horns’ the other day. I thought you’d
like their new CD.”
With a shaky hand I pulled off the headphones my son had
put on me while I was off in vision-land. “They’re very
nice. Loud, but nice. Are you done settling in? And…er…how
long have you been standing there?”
Brom sat down beside me on the warm stone bench that clung
to the side of the house. “Yeah, I’ve unpacked, although I
hope this is the last time we move. And a couple of
minutes. You had a funny look on your face. Were you
thinking about something a long time ago?”
I hadn’t told Brom much about the visions I’d had a couple
of months before. They ceased after that fateful day when
we had been ostracized from the weyr by the rest of the
dragons, and I assumed the part of me that had once been a
dragon in centuries past had given up trying to get me to
acknowledge it. “Something like that. I told your
stepfather that three houses in two months was enough, so
hopefully he’ll stop insisting we move every few weeks.”
“Jim says Baltic isn’t my stepfather, not unless you marry
him, and you’re still married to Gareth, except maybe he’s
married to Ruth. Jim says that’s illegal, and that Baltic
is going to string him up by his balls if he ever finds
him again. Jim says you might do the same.”
I eyed my child. “Trust that demon to become your go-to
source of information. Honey, when I said you could talk
to Jim despite the fact that we are at war with the other
dragons, I didn’t expect you to discuss our personal
issues.”
Brom squinted at me. “Is it true?”
“That Baltic is going to string up your father by his
testicles? No, of course not.”
“No, is it true that Baltic isn’t my stepdad until you
guys get married?”
I slumped back against the rough stone of the old
farmhouse that Baltic had taken as our latest refuge
against possible attacks by other dragons. Explaining the
intricacies of my relationship with Baltic hadn’t been
high on the list of things I wanted to do. “No, it’s not
true. You know that I was born many hundreds of years ago,
right?”
“Yeah. You’re a dragon.”
“I was born a dragon. I’m not one now. Now I’m just a
wyvern’s mate with a dragon inside…well, that’s kind of
complicated. Let’s stick to the easy stuff. I was born
several hundred years ago, and met Baltic, who was the
wyvern of his sept.”
“The black dragons. The one that Kostya runs now,” Brom
said, nodding.
“Exactly.” I wondered briefly how Baltic ended up back in
the sept, and with enough standing to take control when
the previous wyvern left, but figured that was something
speculation wasn’t going to answer.
“And Kostya used to be his homey, but now they beat each
other up. And Kostya keeps breaking Baltic’s nose.”
“Just twice,” I said, irritation rising at the memory of
events a week past, when we had run into the black wyvern
in London. “And only because Baltic was behaving properly
and Kostya was being a rat fink. But that’s neither here
nor there. When I met Baltic all those hundreds of years
ago, I became his…er…wife. Then some things happened, and
Kostya killed Baltic, and I lost my memory, and then about
fifteen years ago, I married your father. Or I thought I
did—I didn’t realize that Baltic had been resurrected,
which meant I wasn’t really married to Gareth. So because
I married Baltic first, I don’t need to marry him again in
order for him to be your stepdad.”
Brom looked somewhat skeptical, but didn’t dispute my
somewhat convoluted explanation of the complex
relationship I had with Baltic. “Jim was wrong, then?”
“Yes. Even demons as old as Jim can be wrong. You don’t
have anything to worry about—Baltic is your father in all
ways but actually having a blood relationship. You know he
loves you, don’t you?”
“Well…he claimed me as his son. That’s the same thing,
isn’t it?”
I sighed and gave Brom a swift hug and kiss on the top of
his head. “For Baltic, that’s the very same thing.
Remember what I told you about some men?”
“They have problems expressing their emotions, and you
have to read between the lines,” Brom parroted from a
previous discussion.
“Exactly. Baltic isn’t the sort of person who marches
about telling everyone he loves them. Kind of like someone
else I know,” I said with a little nudge of my elbow into
his side. Brom had lately developed a horror of
demonstrating affection whenever anyone else was around,
feeling it was beneath his dignity. “His actions speak
louder than his words, remember. And if he didn’t love
you, he wouldn’t have gone out of his way to find houses
that had space for you to set up your horrible mummy lab,
now would he?”
He rolled his eyes. “Maybe. He does hug me.”
“There you go. You know, sometimes people need to know
that you love them, too, and Baltic hasn’t really had
anyone to love him for a very long time, so he needs all
the affection we can show him.”
“Is that why he’s always making you kiss him?”
“He’s not exactly making me kiss him,” I said with a
little laugh. “I like doing it. But yes, because he spent
so much time alone, he gets a little bit insecure, so I go
out of my way to let him know I love him.”
“By kissing him.” The look on his face was priceless.
“Yes, but you don’t have to kiss him if you don’t want to.
A hug does just as well.”
A little frown pulled his brows together. “Gareth says
guys who do that are gay.”
“Gareth is a twerp, and you shouldn’t listen to him.” I
looked up, noting the love of my two lives heading toward
us, a familiar scowl on his handsome face. “Just remember
that both Baltic and I love you, and nothing else is as
important as that. Are you packed for your visit?”
“Naw.” He pursed his lips and watched as Baltic marched
toward us. “Maybe I’ll go do that now.”
“If you want to visit May and Gabriel, yes, you should.
Hello, handsome.” The last sentence was addressed to the
dark-eyed, dark-haired man who stopped in front of me, his
hands on his hips as he frowned down the long length of
his torso to where I sat.
“Mate.” He shifted his glare to Brom. “Are you still
intent on spurning your fine home and returning to the
silver wyvern’s house?”
I bit back a little snort of laughter. When the dragons
had exiled us from the weyr and declared war, I had
worried for Brom’s safety, but was assured by all that
while the dragons took their wars very seriously, they did
not extend warlike acts to children. That Gabriel allowed
May to invite Brom for a weekend stay at their house in
London—so he could visit the mummies at the British Museum—
was, I felt sure, a sign that the determination of the
weyr to remain at war with Baltic and me was waning.
Baltic interpreted it differently, feeling it was
Gabriel’s intention to undermine his relationship with
Brom. It took three weeks of negotiation between Gabriel
and Baltic before he agreed to the event, and then only
after making some fairly obnoxious statements to Gabriel
about what he would do should Gabriel not take care of
Brom in a manner that Baltic felt reasonable.
Brom looked thoughtful for a moment, slid me a quick
glance, then leaned forward and hugged Baltic. The latter
looked so surprised that I did laugh, although I covered
it up with a little cough.
“I’ll be back Sunday night,” Brom told Baltic, releasing
him. “I promise I won’t like Gabriel more than you.”
Baltic blinked at him for a moment or two, then clapped
his hand on Brom’s shoulder, and said, “You are my son. Of
course you will not honor anyone more than your mother or
me. It will be good for Gabriel to see that, however, so
you are right to wish to demonstrate such. Pavel will be
ready to drive us there shortly. Do you need money?”
Brom wasn’t at all a mercenary sort of child, but he did
have eclectic—and very expensive—tastes, and despite the
fact that he received a generous allowance, his eyes lit
up with hope.
“I’ve already given him money to see the museum and buy a
few mementoes.” I shooed Brom toward the house. “He
doesn’t need any more.”
“Aw, Sullivan!”
“Your mother has spoken,” Baltic told him, then pulled out
a money clip.
“Baltic!” I protested when Brom quite happily took the
bills he offered. I took the money from Brom and gave it
back to Baltic. “He’ll just spend that on things he
doesn’t need.”
Baltic handed it back to Brom. “He is a boy. Boys need
spending money.”
Brom nodded rapidly.
“And you’re trying to raise funds to restore Dauva,” I
pointed out, retrieving the money and stuffing it into
Baltic’s pocket. “That’s not going to happen if you don’t
stop slipping him money every time he leaves the house.”
Brom’s face fell.
“No pouting, buster,” I told him. “Go get your things
packed.”
“My son does not pout,” Baltic said with a stern look bent
on Brom, interrupting him as he was about to
protest. “Ysolde does not wish for me to give you cash. I
will not go against her desires. We will both do as she
bids.”
“Thank you. I know you just want Brom to be happy, but I
appreciate you upholding my authority despite that.”
“You are my mate and his mother. I could not do anything
else,” Baltic answered, watching as Brom, with dragging
steps, slowly made his way to the house before yelling
after him, “Tell Pavel to give you one of my credit cards.”
Brom cheered and raced off.
I put my hands on my hips and glared.
“You did not wish for me to give him cash. A credit card
is not cash,” he pointed out, blithely ignoring the
obvious.
“You are incorrigible. You’re just lucky that you’re so
incredibly handsome, I’m willing to overlook that fact now
and again.”
“I know what it’s like to not have money,” Baltic said
with a half-shrug.
That stopped me in my tracks. “You do? I thought all
dragons were rich as sin. When were you poor?”
“When I was resurrected. There were only a handful of
black dragons, most of whom were in hiding, so none of
them could help me. Then I located Pavel, but he had taken
to robbery to exist.” Baltic made a face. “He wasn’t very
good at it. He was in a mortal prison when I found him.”
I wrapped my arms around his waist and kissed the corner
of his mouth. “I had no idea. So you and he got together
and started raising money?”
“Yes. Our first concern was our safety, then Dauva. Now
that has changed.”
“Changed how? You still want Dauva back.”
“Yes, but now my first concern is you and Brom. Dauva will
wait until I know you are safe and content.”
I looked up at him, this man who for centuries was reviled
by other dragons as a murderous madman, my heart full to
overflowing with admiration and love. “Without a doubt,
that is the loveliest thing anyone has ever said to me.
Kiss me.”
“Gladly, but I will point out first that you said the very
same thing last week when I told you that the sight of you
makes my stones tighten.”
“Putting aside your own desires so that Brom and I will be
happy definitely trumps your testicles,” I answered,
licking his lower lip. “Fire?”
“You have your own fire,” he murmured, interest lighting
the dark depths of his black eyes as I wiggled against
him, reveling in the way my body fit against all of his
hard planes. “You should give me your fire, mate.”
“All right, but it’s your turn next time.” I bit his lip
gently, my fingers working free the leather thong that
held back his shoulder-length brown hair, concentrating as
I did so on rousing the dragon that lived deep within my
psyche. I had yet to master the skill that came so natural
to all dragons—harnessing their fire—but Baltic insisted
that I practice it every day in hopes that one day, I
would return to being the dragon I once was.
I focused on the moment, allowing the scent of him to sink
into me. The feel of his body moving restlessly against
mine did much to stir the embers, but it wasn’t until he
took charge of the kiss, possessing my mouth in a way that
left my toenails steaming, that I felt able to pull on my
dragon fire.
Baltic gently bit my neck, knowing how much I loved that,
and sure enough, the dragon fire rose within me until it
erupted from me in a belch of flame, splatting against
Baltic’s chest, and dissipating immediately.
I eyed his chest with a critical gaze. He stopped nuzzling
my neck and sighed. “You have not been practicing as you
ought.”
“I haven’t had time, what with moving every couple of
weeks. Speaking of which, I hope you don’t find anything
wrong with the security of this house, because I don’t
plan on moving again for a long time.”
“You are changing the subject,” he said, his sleek ebony
eyebrows pulling together. “You swore to me that you would
practice taming your fire. You have not done so.”
“I’ve been busy, as I just said.” I pinched his arm, just
to let him know I didn’t appreciate either the frown or
the arrogant, bossy tone of his voice. “Besides, we have
your fire. That’s enough for me.”
“The fact remains that you promised me you would do
something, but have not.”
I glanced up at him, suddenly curious about an unfamiliar
note in his voice. “Why are you making such a big deal
about this?”
His face was hard and closed, but there was a devilish
light of enjoyment in his eyes that he couldn’t disguise,
much though he tried. “You must be punished, mate.”
“Punished! Are you out of your ever livin’…waaait a
minute. What sort of punished? Punished as in you’re going
to go all Drake on me and tell me what to do all the time,
which will only serve to piss me off, or punished as in
something naughty we used to do three hundred years ago,
but which I’ve forgotten?”
One corner of his mouth twitched, his eyes downright
wicked now. “Perhaps a little of both.”
I squirmed against him, the unspoken intent in his eyes
making me shiver with anticipation. “Well…Brom is going to
be gone for three days. I suppose I could put up with a
little dominance in order to explore our past
relationship. Who knows, it might help me find the dragon
inside of me, hmm?”
“There’s going to be a dragon inside you, of that I
promise,” he answered, flames licking up my body as he
leaned forward, about to kiss me again.
“Phone for you, Ysolde,” a voice interrupted us.
I sighed into Baltic’s mouth and turned to accept the
phone that Pavel, Baltic’s guard and oldest friend, held
out to me. His face was unreadable, but amusement danced
in his dark eyes. “I wouldn’t have interrupted you, but it
is the silver shaman. She says it is important.”
“Kaawa?” I asked, taking the phone. “I wonder what she
wants. Hello, Kaawa? How are you? Is everything all right?”
“Mate!” Baltic demanded.
“One moment please. Baltic has to vent his spleen, and
I’ve found if I don’t let him do it, he gets more
unreasonable than usual,” I told her before she could
answer my questions.
“I am not unreasonable. I am never unreasonable, as can be
seen by the fact that I am allowing my son to leave my
protection. Must I remind you that you agreed, when you
begged me to permit Brom’s visit, you would have no other
interaction with the silver sept?” Baltic asked, frowning
fiercely.
“Yes, but this is just Kaawa. She’s not really a dragon.”
“She is the mother to the silver wyvern. What I do not
understand is why you would be happy to have Brom visit
Gabriel, when it was he, along with the other wyverns, who
accused me of killing blue dragons, and named you
ouroboros.”
A little pang spiked into my heart. Even though I didn’t
remember anything about my past as a dragon other than
what the visions had showed me, the moment when both
Gabriel and Kostya formally severed my ties with their
respective septs was painfully strong in my memory.
“I’m going to talk to her, Baltic. She’s a nice woman,
she’s learned in dragon lore, and she wants to help me
resolve the issue with my Inner Dragon. And before you say
it, I know you’re learned in dragon lore, too, but you
haven’t been able to help me deal with this whole ‘I used
to be a dragon’ thing, and Kaawa has. Kind of. Oh, and
speaking of that, I have something I want to ask you about
the past, but that can wait until I’m done with this call.”
He looked for a minute like he was going to argue the
point, but a quick glance at my forehead had him muttering
under his breath instead as he turn and stomped off, Pavel
following in his wake.
“I’m so sorry about that, Kaawa. You know how Baltic is.”
She chuckled in my ear, her voice, thick with an
Australian accent, warming me even though we were
continents apart. “Not really, but from what Gabriel has
told me, you have your hands full. How are you, child?”
“We’re fine. Brom is about to visit Gabriel and May for
the weekend, as a matter of fact. It’s very kind of them
to invite him for a stay, considering the war and all.”
“Pfft. That is more of a formality than anything, don’t
you think?”
“Well, that’s what Aisling and May say, but Baltic takes
it very seriously. He’s busy with plans to free his friend
Thala from wherever it is Drake has her stashed. I
probably shouldn’t have told you that, but I figured not
only would you not carry tales to Gabriel, but the wyverns
probably already know that Baltic wants Thala back.”
She was silent for a moment. “I would not carry tales, no,
but I will tell Gabriel anything that I feel endangers him
or his wintiki.”
“I would expect that. I can assure you that despite the
animosities all around, I wouldn’t condone a plan to harm
any dragon, let alone people I like.”
The smile came back into her voice. “You did not tell me
how you were feeling.”
I thought about the strange vision. “I’m fine as well.”
“One of my dreamings spoke of you. You have a great
confusion inside you, child, and it is growing if it can
reach to my dreaming.”
“It’s growing?” A little shiver skittered down my back. “I
don’t know what to say to that other than it makes me feel
more than a little freaked out. What confusion? The
dragon, you mean?”
“That is part of it, yes.” Her voice, normally so warm and
soothing, went a little rough. “I do not know…I am not
sure, but I believe that something has changed. What would
that be?”
If anyone else had been so nosy, I would have had a thing
or two to say to them, but Kaawa had tried for the last
few months to help me discover why the dragon I used to be
was buried so deep inside me that it only manifested
itself with visions of my past.
“As a matter of fact, something did happen a short while
ago. I had another vision.”
“That is significant, but not such that it should affect
my dreaming,” she said slowly.
“This wasn’t a vision of things that happened in the past,
Kaawa. Or rather, it probably was, but it didn’t concern
me. It happened before I was even born.”
“Tell me,” she urged, and I sat back down on the stone
bench made warm by the sun and leaned back against the
side of the house, the drone of bees as they bustled about
a nearby hydrangea bush providing a lazy, sonorous
background as I described what I had witnessed.
“I don’t know why my inner dragon would want me to see
that—what does it care about Constantine before he had
anything to do with me?—but I assume the significance must
have something to do with the First Dragon having Baltic
being kicked out of the sept. Or do you think it was
Antonia? She used to be his girlfriend, you know. Or maybe
it was Constantine himself? It’s so confusing! It’s enough
to drive me insane.”
“You’re not insane,” she said slowly, obviously thinking
it over. “But I do not think it was the dragon within you
who gave you that vision, child. The events that happened
were beyond its scope.”
“No? What did, then?”
“You are marked by the First Dragon. He is the only one
who could have the ability to allow you to see things
beyond your knowledge, and I can well believe that such an
act would disturb my dreaming.”
I rubbed the spot on my forehead where the First Dragon,
the father of all dragonkin who ever were, or ever would
be, had touched me. It had left a mark that was identical
to the sept emblem that Baltic and I bore, that of an
etched sun, but over the last few months, the mark on my
forehead had faded until it disappeared entirely. “I’m
sorry to be so ignorant about this, but I thought your
dreaming was a representation of your faith, tied in to
the land and animals. How could the First Dragon have an
impact on that?”
“I have two dreamings—the wintiki, or night bird, and
light. It is the latter that was disturbed. I have long
suspected that the First Dragon’s songline was located in
Australia, although I have yet to prove it.”
“A songline is…?”
She laughed. “I did not call to give you a lecture in
aboriginal history, Ysolde. It would take much time to
explain it all, but for now I will simply say that a
songline is the dreaming and trail created by spirit
beings such as the First Dragon.”
“All right. So because he left behind some sort of an
ancient trail, that’s impacted your dreaming?”
“Yes. Only his touch upon you would result in such a
thing. Tell me again what vision he gave you.”
I described once more the scene between Constantine and
the female mage.
“I have heard nothing about the event Constantine
described,” she said thoughtfully. “There is no record of
Baltic being expelled from his sept. And it is unheard of
for the First Dragon to interfere with the weyr. I wonder
if Constantine…” Her voice trailed off.
“Could he be lying?” I asked, and thought about that for a
minute. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I’m just going to
have to ask Baltic about it.”
She laughed. “It is always a challenge to get information
from a dragon, and doubly so when it concerns something
they do not wish to discuss.”
“And well I know it. But this is too big for him to hide—
at least I think it is. I certainly feel like being
declared ouroboros is a life-altering event. If it’s true,
what could he have done to piss off the First Dragon to
that extent?”
“That I do not know, and I suspect you will find it
difficult to get Baltic to tell you. But I admit I would
give much to know the answer.”
“Let’s look at the facts: the First Dragon resurrects me
when Constantine kills me.”
“Yes,” Kaawa said.
“Then he tells me, five hundred years later, mind you,
which is a bit annoying, that I am supposed to do
something for him.”
“And you somehow let him down before, didn’t he say that?”
Laughter was in her voice, taking the sting from the
comment.
“Yes,” I sighed. “There’s just nothing like knowing you’ve
let down the one dragon ancestor that you’ve failed him,
and he’s told you to do something for him without telling
you what it is, and oh yes, don’t fail. Again. You know,
it’s a wonder I’m still sane having that hanging over me.”
“I don’t think it’s a bad thing, Ysolde,” Kaawa said
slowly, her voice now medative. “You have warranted his
trust for some task. That is an honor, no matter how you
look at it.”
“With the bottom line that if the First Dragon sent the
vision about Constantine to me, then it must be related to
whatever it is I’m supposed to do.”
“Perhaps. Perhaps not. It is definitely odd.”
“I agree, but what am I supposed to do about it other than
try to worm the information from Baltic?”
“I am afraid I do not know, but I suspect you will find
that answer for yourself.”
“I wish I knew how I was supposed to do that,” I said,
weary of constantly being in the dark concerning whatever
task the First Dragon expected me to perform.
“If I could answer that, I would be able to tell you what
it is the First Dragon desires of you,” she said with a
little laugh. “Talk to your mate. Encourage him to tell
you about his past. The answer may well lie there.”
“It might,” I said, a sudden insight coming to me. “But
you know, Kaawa, if it was something Baltic did that is
connected with my task, then it seems to me that the First
Dragon would have given me a vision of that event, not of
a discussion by two unrelated people casually mentioning
it. No, I think this is a very big—if obscure—hint about
something the First Dragon wants me to do about
Constantine. He was the focus of the vision. But what is
it I’m supposed to do? He’s dead, after all. He is dead,
isn’t he?”
“I believe so, yes. I have not heard otherwise.”
“No, but you didn’t know Baltic was alive for almost forty
years, either.”
“Gabriel knew something was amiss in the weyr. He could
feel a disturbance,” she pointed out.
“True.” I vaguely remembered May telling me something
about that, although Gabriel had been hard put to believe
that it really was Baltic who had returned to the land of
the living.
“It could be something to do with the female,” Kaawa
pointed out before continuing, “I must hang up now, child,
but I am relieved to know that it was the First Dragon who
touched you, and thus my dreaming, and not a malevolent
force. Be well.”
I thanked her for troubling herself, still trying to
figure out something about the vision that would clue me
in to what the First Dragon wanted me to do. “It may be an
obscure hint, but it’s surely better than no hint at all,”
I said to myself before glancing at my watch and
exclaiming at the time. I headed for Brom’s room at a fast
trot, since Baltic hated to be late for
appointments. “Another vision or two, and I bet it’ll all
be clear to me.”
My words echoed hollowly off the empty hall as I took the
stairs two at a time, leaving me with a sense of ill fated
foreboding.
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