The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

by Katie MacAlister

  “And that my spinal cord doesn’t snap,” Jim grumbled, awkwardly following us. I winced as it moved too close to a half-moon table, whacking Thala’s head with a painful-sounding thunk.

  “I can zap people,” Cyrene offered, waving her Taser happily. “I bet I could get a good dozen dragons with it before the battery runs out.”

  “Too many,” came a disembodied voice, followed shortly by May as she emerged from nothing. “There’s at least a dozen outside, looking for signs of entry. Thank god we reset the window alarm once we got inside. They’re focusing their search out there, not in the house itself.”

  “How are we going to get out?” I asked.

  Jim groaned and leaned against the wall, partially squashing Thala in the process. “You better decide quick, ’cause I think a kidney just imploded.”

  “I’ll have to distract them,” May said. “I’ll slip out through a back window and lure them in the direction opposite of the car.”

  “These are Drake’s men. . . . They might not recognize you, May, and Gabriel would have a hissy if any of them tried to harm you. They know me, though, so I’ll go be the bait,” Aisling said.

  “How about we both go?” May suggested.

  “I can go, too,” Cyrene offered. “I can zap any of them that get too close.”

  “You stay with Jim and Ysolde,” May answered, adding quickly when she saw Cyrene start to frown, “You’ll be responsible for keeping them safe.”

  “Oh! Good idea! I’ll zap the ones that come after us.”

  Jim groaned again. “Can we just go before my back compresses until I’m only four feet tall? I’d hate to see what that does to my fabulous Newfie form.”

  “Ysolde de Bouchier,” Aisling said, taking my hand to draw a ward on my palm. “Unto you I bestow the power over my minions. Jim, stay with Ysolde until I can get you back, and stop complaining. We all know you’d rather be in dog form, and I’m sure we’ll figure out how to make that happen, but until then, just do what Ysolde says and put some pants on as soon as you can.”

  We parted at the top of the stairs, Aisling and May promising to make a huge ruckus and draw attention away from the north side of the house.

  “I’ll call you tomorrow,” Aisling said, then stopped herself and glanced at her watch. “Later today, actually, to make arrangements for Jim. Good luck, everyone!”

  It took some time to get down to the ground floor, since Jim insisted its shoulder was caving in, forcing it to reposition Thala. Unfortunately for her, it dropped her while trying to shift her to its other shoulder, but luckily no one seemed to hear the loud crash as she bounced down the last couple of stairs.

  “She’s going to be black and blue by the time you’re done with her,” I pointed out as Jim stuffed her through the window through which we’d entered the house.

  “And your point is . . . ?” Jim said as it released Thala’s legs, letting her slide through the window to the ground outside. “In case you missed the news flash, she’s not the nicest person in the world. She tried to kill Kostya and Savian, not that the former is anything to worry about, but I like Savian. Whenever I stay with May and he comes over to visit, he slips me pastries.”

  “Sorry.” Cyrene’s voice drifted in through the window. “Was I supposed to catch Thala? I thought I heard a voice, and I wanted to see if he was Taserable. Are you guys coming?”

  The ten minutes that followed had more in common with a Monty Python skit than a Mission: Impossible episode, but May and Aisling turned out to be the perfect decoys. As Jim staggered away from the house with Thala, I could hear the crackle of radios and shouts of alarm coming from the distance, to my great relief growing more and more distant as each minute passed. To Cyrene’s intense disappointment, we didn’t encounter a single dragon on our way out of the house’s grounds, nor did she approve of my insisting that we hide should a stray dragon run past.

  “What’s the use of having a Taser if I can’t zap dragons with it?” she complained.

  “You’ll just have to use it another time,” I told her, pausing to peer down the lane where we’d parked the car before waving everyone forward.

  “Maybe Kostya will get out of line and I’ll be able to nail him,” she mused.

  I shot her a curious glance. “Things not going well with the relationship?”

  “Oh, it’s not that,” she said with a half shrug. “It’s just that . . . well . . . this wyvern’s mate business isn’t all it’s cracked up to be. Kostya insists that I put the welfare of the black dragons ahead of everything else, and I just can’t. I’m a naiad! Ned says that’s why mixed relationships don’t work.”

  “Ned?” I dug out my car keys and unlocked the car.

  “He’s just a friend of mine,” she answered coyly.

  “Man, you’re dating Neptune on the side? Kostya’s going to blow a gasket when he finds out.” Jim dropped Thala into the backseat. “Can I be there when you tell him?”

  I gave Cyrene a long look before getting into the car. She slid into the front passenger seat, shooting Jim an irate glance as it shoved Thala’s legs off the seat and climbed in next to our sleeping beauty.

  “I am not dating Ned. I just happened to run into him a few times. We may have gone to dinner a couple of times when Kostya was off doing whatever it is that is so much more important than spending time with me, but that’s it. There’s nothing wrong with me seeing the head of the order of water elementals, you know. It’s not like I’m madly in love with him or anything like that, even though he is really sensitive and understanding about everything to do with my spring, and he appreciates all the trouble I take over making sure that my lakes and rivers are all in tiptop shape, whereas Kostya just tells me it’s a waste of time. A waste of time! Ha!”

  So that was the way the wind was blowing. It was interesting, but really none of my business. I made a mental note to tell Baltic, though. I knew he would be interested in finding out that Kostya’s quasi mate had evidently lost her rose-colored glasses where the volatile Kostya was concerned.

  “Is Drake going to be very pissed at Aisling?” I asked Jim a few minutes later, as we drove through the night, heading toward the train station, where I would drop off Cyrene.

  “Yeah, but she’s got him wrapped around her little finger,” it answered, its hands on its neck in an attempt to rub sore muscles. It hesitated, then corrected itself. “Most of the time she does. He’ll probably be all pissy for a bit, but she’ll sweet-talk him around. Or she’ll flash a little boob and he’ll cave.”

  “I hope it doesn’t cause trouble between them.” I wondered how bad it would be if Baltic discovered I’d gone against his wishes. A few of the memories granted to me of our past several hundred years drifted across my mind. It could be bad. “Well, at least this time he won’t have anything to complain about,” I said under my breath as I pulled out onto a main road.

  Sometimes I really would give anything not to make such statements. It just seems to tempt fate.

  An hour and a half later, I looked up and asked, “Did you get her settled?”

  Jim stomped down the stairs from where it had deposited Thala in one of the spare bedrooms. “If by ‘settled’ you mean I dumped her on the bed and slapped a pair of handcuffs on her that you found, yeah. Can I say just how kinky it is that you had a pair of handcuffs right there? Do you use them on Baltic? Or does he use them on you?”

  “Neither. They’re Pavel’s,” I said, avoiding the demon’s eye as I checked my phone. There was no response to the text I had sent Baltic saying we’d successfully retrieved Thala.

  “Seriously? Man, and he looks so normal. Did you ever get to watch him—?”

  “No,” I interrupted quickly, deciding a change of subject was in order. I frowned at the demon as it squirmed uncomfortably. “What on earth is wrong with you?”

  “Big Jim and the twins don’t like it in there,” it answered, tugging at the crotch of the jeans I’d lent it.

  “Oh, for heaven�
�s sake—you’re the same size as Baltic, and I’m sure that your genitalia aren’t so massive they can’t fit into a pair of jeans.”

  “Yeah, well, you try stuffing a human package into a pair of jeans without a pair of shorts on,” it answered, still squirming. “That’s a sensitive area, you know! You can’t just cram them anywhere and expect them to be comfortable.”

  “I told you to take what you needed from Baltic’s closet. You could have gotten a pair of underwear.”

  “I’m not wearing another guy’s shorts!” it answered, looking appalled. “I don’t know where they’ve been! Well, I do, and that doesn’t reassure me any. Plus, do you think Baltic would like knowing you’re handing out his clothes?”

  “I think he’d prefer that to having you wandering around wearing nothing but a sarong made of two sweaters. Stop clutching at yourself and sit down. I want to talk to you.”

  “Uh-oh,” it said, backing away. “You’ve got that scary-mom look on your face. Talk about what?”

  “Ouroboros dragons.”

  Jim blinked a couple of times. “You could at least feed me before you interrogate me.”

  “It’s two o’clock in the morning, Jim. You don’t need to eat now!”

  “Sure I do. I spent a lot of energy hauling Thala around. She’s no lightweight, you know.”

  I opened my mouth to protest, but thought better of it. Jim was an endless mooch for food, and would likely be more forthcoming if it was fed. “All right, I’ll make you a blue-cheese-stuffed burger, but you will tell me everything you know about outlaw dragons.”

  “Deal, but it ain’t much, only a few things I’ve picked up from Ash and Drake.”

  By the time I made us each a burger, Jim had acclimatized itself to wearing clothing and sat docilely enough at the kitchen table.

  “Baltic said that Fiat and some of his followers had been named ouroboros recently,” I said, sitting down to my very belated dinner. “I know those dragons are considered outlaws now, but what about the others?”

  “What others?” it asked around a mouthful of hamburger.

  “Surely there are other dragons who have been kicked out of their septs at one time or another? Or are the blue dragons it?”

  Jim shrugged, dribbling a bit of blue cheese as it chewed. “I don’t know of any personally, but there were some at Kostya’s aerie, or so Gabriel said, and I don’t know why he’d lie about that unless it was ex–silver dragons holding Kostya prisoner, and I think he’d know if it was.”

  “Kostya,” I said slowly, considering Baltic’s former friend. “I’d forgotten that he was holed up in an aerie for so long. Who held him prisoner?”

  “Dunno. Drake still hasn’t figured it out, and although he talks about going back to the aerie to look for clues, he’s too busy fawning over Aisling and the spawn to go to Nepal again.”

  “What does Drake have to do with it?”

  “He went to rescue Kostya and got nabbed himself. Ash and I rounded up a posse and went to rescue them. I lost a couple of toes in the process, but got them back again with my fabulous new form.” Jim looked down at itself with morose dissatisfaction. “My former fabulous new form. When are you going to change me back?”

  “I don’t know how to, or even that I could if I did know. So Drake was at the aerie, too? That means he must have seen the ouroboros dragons as well. Hmm. I think I’m going to have to talk to Kostya, since Drake is probably quite angry and not likely to tell me what I want to know.”

  Jim cocked an eyebrow and licked a bit of mustard off its upper lip. “And you think Kostya will tell you?”

  “Yes,” I said after a moment’s thought. “His animosity toward Baltic aside, yes, I think I can get him to open up. If the dragons who imprisoned Kostya did so before Fiat and his followers were removed from their sept, then that means there must be two separate tribes out there. But who are the second group? And why would they want Kostya imprisoned? Why would they want to steal things from the L’au-dela?”

  “You got me. You going to eat that half?” Jim asked, nodding toward the remains of my hamburger.

  “Go ahead, but don’t come running to me if you’ve got an upset stomach in the morning.” I shoved the plate across the table to it and rose. “I’m going to get a few hours’ sleep. Can you keep an eye on Thala until I get up?”

  “Aw, man! Why do I get guard duty?”

  “Because you’re the only one here other than me, and you’re a demon who doesn’t technically need sleep, whereas I’m human. Er . . . kind of. And I do need sleep.”

  “Shows what you know. Demons need sleep just like any other sentient being,” Jim grumbled.

  “It’ll just be for a few hours.” I cleaned up the table quickly and started for the back stairs.

  “Can I at least have a gun or a Taser like Cyrene had?”

  I paused at the foot of the stairs, glancing back at the demon. There was a genuine look of distaste on its face. Insight struck me. “You truly do not want to be near Thala, do you?”

  It shook its head.

  “Why not?”

  “She’s not nice,” it said with a grimace.

  “Not nice as in she’s mean to demons? Abuses dogs?” I asked, curious to know why a demon of its power and connections would be so uncomfortable around Thala.

  “She’s got a lot of power,” Jim said after a few moments’ pause. “She’s half dragon, you know.”

  “I know, but I also know she’s a necromancer, and that has no influence on demons, so there’s no reason for you to be worried about being around her.”

  Jim said nothing, but it was clear there was more it could say. I thought for a moment of invoking a demon lord’s privilege to make it speak, but decided that it wasn’t that important. “Take a knife if you’re worried, but don’t hurt her unless you have no other choice.”

  “What do I do if she’s gotta pee?” it asked in a plaintive tone as I started up the stairs.

  “Undo her handcuffs and let her use the bathroom, silly.”

  “But she’ll whomp me!”

  I bit back the urge to tell him to whomp her back. “Since she’s hostile toward me, I don’t want her to leave the house until Baltic gets back and can talk to her, so just do your best for a few hours, OK? Wake me at six, and I’ll take over watchdog duty.”

  Jim’s grumbles followed me up the stairs. While I got undressed, I eyed the big bed that normally dominated the room. At least it did when Baltic was around, but now it just looked cold and lonely.

  I miss you, I texted to him before climbing into the empty bed. I hope everything is going OK at Dauva. Call me when you can. Oh, and I am head over heels in love with you, and wish you were here right now so I could touch you in all sorts of wicked ways.

  Smiling to myself that the text should get a response out of him sooner rather than later, I settled down to get a little sleep, not that I expected to get much since I didn’t sleep well when Baltic wasn’t there to keep me warm. Exhaustion claimed me, however, and I slipped into insensibility clutching my phone.

  Chapter Seven

  “Then we are agreed, are we not?”

  I rolled over to see who was talking in my bedroom, only to find I wasn’t in a bedroom.

  “Another vision,” I sighed as the fog of sleep dissipated, leaving me standing next to a long, highly polished table around which five people sat. “I don’t suppose anyone can hear or see me?”

  “Unless Drake Vireo has anything to add,” a female voice said with sultry smoothness. No one paid the slightest iota of attention to me, so I gathered I was seeing another vision of an event at which I wasn’t present.

  “I know that voice.” I turned to consider Chuan Ren and a man at her side who I assumed was her mate. Going by her dress and elegant coiffure, I judged that this event took place around the turn of the twentieth century.

  “Drake has, I believe, spoken on the subject, but perhaps he has something else he wishes to say?” The original speaker, a blon
d man with a lilting Italian accent, asked the question with a polite little nod down the table.

  “I do not have anything more to say about the black dragons than I’ve already said.” Drake’s voice was just as urbane as it was now. I looked across the table to where he sat, his two guards behind him. “The sept is destroyed. No black dragons have been seen for almost a hundred years. Constantine Norka conducted the extermination most thoroughly.”

  “We had every right to take action against those who would have destroyed us,” a man across the table snapped back. I looked at him, noting he was most definitely not Constantine. This man was dark-skinned, with close-cropped black hair and dark eyes, a tribal tattoo evident on his neck despite the high starched collar and black suit typical of an Edwardian gentleman. To my surprise, behind him stood someone else I knew: Gabriel, also clad in a black suit, but with an embroidered silver vest that almost matched his eyes. The dreadlocks were gone, and he was clean-shaven, but the look of wary caution in his eyes was all too familiar. “Which the green wyvern well knows, since he was at the sárkány that decreed we had the right to pursue our subjugators.”

  Drake bowed his head in acknowledgment, but I noticed his jaw was tight. I smiled a little smile at that, wondering how much it had cost him to keep from lashing out at the silver wyvern. Then again, perhaps he knew that Kostya was at that moment alive and well, living in the hidden aerie. I’d have to ask Aisling if she knew.

  “As the requisite amount of time has passed since a member of the black sept has been seen, the weyr officially declares the sept to be extinct and, as such, stricken off the rolls.”

  The silver wyvern watched Drake closely, but although his eyes glittered with an emerald light, Drake’s face was impassive, as were those of István and Pál, his guards whom I had briefly met some months before.

  “The second order of business is the recognition of Sial Fa’amasino as official rather than acting wyvern of the silver sept.” The Italian gave a pointed look at the silver dragons. “Do you have proof of the death of the wyvern Constantine Norka?”

  “No. His body has not been discovered, despite our searches for it.” Sial’s voice was steady, but his dark eyes were watchful, as if he half expected trouble.