by Bianca D'Arc
They walked together to the dining area, though Jenet remained outside the chamber itself, only craning her neck through the wide threshold, as did her parents. Declan was already seated at one end of the table, Ren took his place at the other, just as it had always been in their home. Drake’s stomach clenched as Declan rose, meeting his gaze.
“Be welcome, Drake.” Declan gestured to Drake’s seat, and Drake moved forward a bit awkwardly, first to assist his mother, as politeness demanded, then himself. The food was already on the large table, and Drake saw that his mother had indeed made all his favorite dishes.
“This looks really wonderful, Mother. Thank you.”
Declan cleared his throat, then said a quick, respectful prayer to the Mother of All to thank Her for Her bounty. Drake was shocked when his gruff blood-father added a line of thanks for returning their son to the family.
They began the meal in awkward silence until finally Drake couldn’t take it anymore. There were things he wanted to say—things he needed to say to these people before they could begin to truly be a family again—if that’s what they all really wanted. For himself, Drake wasn’t so sure. He had his own life now and it was a good one. He was well-known and respected in the five lands he claimed as home. He’d done good service for his true homeland and would continue to do so, regardless of how things stood with his family.
Drake set down his fork, his thoughts churning.
“Don’t you like the green beans?” His mother watched his plate as carefully as she had when he was six and tried to con Jenet into eating his vegetables.
“The beans are fine, Mother.” He gave her a reassuring smile. “But there are a few things that need saying.”
Everyone at the table set aside their utensils, Declan last of all. The knight raised his blue eyes and met Drake’s gaze across the breadth of the table.
“You’re right, son. Say your piece.”
Drake’s back went up, just as it so often had when he was younger. He didn’t need Declan’s permission to speak, but with the wisdom of years, Drake reined in his hot temper. He recognized the bold, dominant streak in Declan that he’d come to know in himself over the years. They both shared the need to be the alpha male, which was probably why they’d clashed so much as Drake grew into a man.
“Thank you, Father.” Drake nodded, glad to see Declan start a little with surprise at his measured tones. “First, I want you to know that I’m only back for a short time. I have responsibilities in other lands and most especially to the Jinn Brotherhood. They took me in and I’ve worked behind the scenes with them for a lot of years.”
“I don’t know much about the Jinn,” Ren said quietly, his eyes narrowed in thought, “but I have heard they are more than they seem. Nico already told us you’re more than just a traveling minstrel. He told us you were Spymaster of the Jinn.”
Drake was surprised. He could count on one hand the people who knew his true position among the Jinn Brotherhood. Nico, as King-Consort of the Jinn, was his only superior. In a way, Drake was now Spymaster to the King of the Jinn, if the Brotherhood used such titles. It was a high honor and a weighty responsibility. To be the master of all the Jinn spies was daunting, to say the least, for every traveling minstrel among the nomadic Jinn was a spy of one sort or another.
“I guess I shouldn’t be surprised Nico told you, but you must realize how important it is that you keep my true position to yourselves.”
Declan scoffed, but with a good-natured smile Drake had rarely seen from his stern blood-father. “That goes without saying, son. None of us would ever compromise your safety or your mission.”
Drake let that thought settle in his mind for a moment. This wasn’t going as he’d expected, but perhaps it was better than he ever would have believed. His family seemed to not only accept the path he’d chosen, but to take some measure of pride in his elevated status. They actually seemed proud of him.
Slowly, Drake nodded. “Well, you’ll understand that because of my position, I can’t stay in Draconia for long. There are contacts I must make and keep outside these borders. Drake of the Five Lands has built up a certain reputation and a very large network that I must uphold.”
His mother sighed. “Your fathers expected no less, but now that you’ve come home for a visit, I hope you’ll return more often. I know Jenet wants you here as much as possible. As do I.”
Drake reached out to cover his mother’s small hand with his own. “I can visit, of course, but I can’t stay. There is much work to be done.”
“I get the idea you never would have returned if there wasn’t some grave plot afoot.” Declan spoke shrewdly, his sparkling blue eyes narrowed on Drake. “Can you tell us?”
Drake shrugged as he thought fast. Of all the knights, Ren and Declan were ranked among the highest. If there was a threat to the royal family, they would need to know.
“I can tell you this. There is a substantial threat to the younger princes, the twins in particular. I thought it real enough to return here after all this time to warn them myself.”
Jenet’s head loomed over the family dinner table. “We’ve already taken precautions,” she said in soft tones, including them all in her thoughts. “None of the royal family will be without escort until we determine the seriousness of the threat. We’ve devised a schedule. Nellin is with Wil right now. Jurak and Elinar are with the younger twins. They and their knights will sleep in the royal suites tonight and we’ll switch off in the morning. Roland and Nico refused guards, but we’re watching them anyway.” She chuckled in her dragonish way, a little wisp of cinnamon-scented smoke rising above the table.
“You’ve been busy, sweetheart. Good work.” The approval in Declan’s voice made Drake start. Dec had indeed mellowed in the past fifteen years. He’d never spoken so gently in his life. Or perhaps Drake had just never recognized the deep caring in Declan’s otherwise harsh voice.
“Is there anything we can do?” Ren leaned forward, seeking Drake’s counsel in a way that surprised him. Roles had certainly reversed in the past fifteen years. His fathers were both looking at him the way his Jinn brethren often did—with respect and a willingness to listen and follow direction. It was a jarring, heady feeling.
“Having dragons keep an eye on them is a good first step, but the information I have indicates the threat is greatest here, in the capital city and the castle. I recommended to Roland that his younger brothers either be confined here in the castle with multiple guards or dispersed to the outlying Lairs where the number of people going in and out can be controlled.”
“What is the nature of the threat, exactly?” Declan asked from the head of the table, all business now.
“Abduction.” Drake’s simple statement caused a stark reaction from everyone but Jenet. She’d heard his full report to the king and knew already what was at stake. “What my operatives have heard indicates King Lucan of Skithdron wants to capture one of the royal princes. They say it has something to do with his own transformation, and I fear he wants a half-dragon subject to experiment on. Nico and Riki saw firsthand what Lucan has done to himself.”
“What’s he done?” Drake’s mother wanted to know, a fearful curiosity on her delicate features as she looked from one man to the other seated around her table. “What haven’t you told me?”
Ren’s eyes were grim, but he nodded at Drake to do the honors.
“King Lucan cut a deal with the northern warlord, Salomar. Lucan would ship diamond blades from his mines northward in return for two things. First, he wanted access to the North Witch, Loralie. He asked her to merge himbodilywith the skiths that inhabit his land.”
Elena gasped, shock and horror on her lovely face. Skiths were giant, venomous, snake-like creatures that killed all in their path. The only thing they were afraid of was fire, but even a dragon could be felled by their acidic venom spray and vicious bladed teeth. They weren’t of very high intelligence and tended to be lone creatures, but just recently the king of Skithdron had
found a way to mobilize and organize the skiths of his land into a sort of army.
“But that’s crazy!” Elena’s whispered words reached Drake’s ear, and he squeezed her small hand in reassurance.
“Lucan is insane. He’s half skith now. It’s the reason he chained Riki at his side. He made her heal the constant injury to his body caused by the skith venom and blood, as the process of change continued. Without her healing power, he would have died at the very beginning of the transformation. We all assumed after she escaped he’d die a very slow and painful death, but he’s still alive. My scouts confirmed it only a day or two ago.” Drake ran one hand through his hair in frustration. “Either he’s found a new healer somewhere—poor soul—or he’s beyond the point in the change where he needs constant healing.”
Declan sat back and all eyes turned to him. “What was the second thing Lucan bartered with Salomar for?”
Trust his blood-father to remember the details. Drake would have smiled had the situation not been so grim. “Safe passage to the far north for search parties. Salomar didn’t know what Lucan was looking for, other than some magical artifact, but some of my sources claim it is something from wizard times.” Lilla reared up, as did the other dragons lying in the warm pit of sand some feet distant, but they said not a word, just listened intently while Drake continued. “One of my informants heard a name, but I don’t trust the man completely and I only have his word on it.”
“What was the name?” Arlis’s great golden head loomed near, over his knight’s shoulder. There was urgency in his tone.
Drake surveyed the dragons, realizing there was something more here than met the eye, but he’d have to wait for a better time to ferret out just what the dragons knew. For now, he had bigger fish to fry and two princes to keep safe.
“The man spoke of something called the Citadel. He said that’s what Lucan’s men were looking for in the far north, but he didn’t know whether or not they’d actually found anything.”
The dragons bristled but remained silent.
“Does this mean something to you, Arlis?” Declan asked of his dragon partner, suspicion in his gaze if Drake was reading his blood-father’s expression correctly.
“It could,” Arlis hedged, surprising Drake, “but we must seek the Dragon Council. I will call them together tomorrow at first light. We must confer on this development before deciding how to proceed.”
Drake knew both Arlis and his mate were senior members of the Dragon Council. Only dragons met on the Council—their knights were not allowed within the vast chamber. The only humans allowed within were those of royal blood, who were also half-dragon. He’d often wondered what went on behind those closed doors, but that was one of the few areas into which even the Spymaster of the Jinn Brotherhood was not privy.
“Leaving that aside for now—” Declan sent his dragon partner a hard look, “—I’m impressed that you felt this threat strong enough to come here in person, Drake. It speaks both of your character and the seriousness of our current situation.” Drake was shocked by Declan’s words, but the older knight moved on without pause. “We’ll need to augment the dragons’ plans. Jenet, after dinner I want you to give us the details of the schedule you and the younger dragons have worked out. But for now, let’s continue our meal.” Declan lifted his glass and waited for those around him to do the same. “To our son, returned to us at last.”
The toast was echoed by the rest of the family, and Drake found himself drinking with a sense of unreality that puzzled him. How had Declan taken control of the situation yet again? And why wasn’t Drake bristling as he always had when his blood-father took charge to bring them back to the matter at hand?
No, instead of anger, Drake felt something like relief that Declan had so easily steered the conversation away from such weighty matters. It was hard enough just being with his family after so many years. Discussing the dire threat to the Draconian royal family and the machinations of kings was better left to another day.
Drake watched as his family drank to his return, a sense of completeness enveloping him. He’d come full circle now. His blood-father was no longer the ogre he remembered, and Drake had to ask himself if Declan really ever was quite as bad as Drake recalled.
Drake raised his glass when the others had finished sipping and gathered their attention. It was a heady feeling. They’d never paid such attention to him as a youngster, but he’d grown up and learned many things in his travels. How to play to a crowd was second nature to an accomplished Jinn troubadour such as himself.
“And to you all. The Mother of All knows you deserve special commendations for putting up with me as a teen.” He shook his head ruefully. “I never expected to be welcomed back this way and I’m both humbled and grateful.”
Drake drank deeply of the sweet wine, shocked to see tears gathered in not only his mother’s eyes, but Ren’s as well. Even Declan had a suspicious sparkle in his blue eyes, but Drake pretended not to notice the emotional response his words had conjured.
The rest of the meal passed with considerably less tension, and Drake found himself enjoying the quiet meal with his family a lot more than he’d expected. So much had changed while he’d been away, yet much had stayed the same.
Drake bounded out of bed the next morning, feeling better than he had for a very long time. It was barely dawn when he ambled down the High Road in Castleton toward a quaint inn owned by the Pritchards. He remembered it from when he was a boy. They were famous for their confections, and he was looking forward to learning if they still made the best sweet breakfast buns he’d ever tasted.
He entered the common room and spotted Krysta. She wore her gray Guard uniform, but her hair sparkled in the rising sun and her creamy complexion beckoned him to lick her skin, just to see if she tasted as good as she looked.
But that would come later.
For now, breakfast was the order of the day. Charming this special woman, the task at hand.
“Good morning, Krysta.” His voice was his sharpest weapon, honed over years on the bardic road. He knew he could make a woman shiver with just the right inflection, and it seemed Krysta was not immune. He saw her shoulders shimmy as his voice rolled over her and smiled in satisfaction.
“I wasn’t sure you’d make it.”
“When I make a promise, I keep it.” He sat at the small table, brushing his knees against hers.
“I’ll remember that.” She sipped at her steaming cup of tea, her gray eyes watching him through the mist.
The serving girl came over to them and Drake smiled at the youngster, placing his order. He learned that she was the youngest daughter of the house, and that her name was Mary Pritchard. By the time she left the table, she was grinning and promising to give his compliments to her father and mother.
“You certainly have a way with the ladies. Even the young ones.”
Drake winked. “I used to charm honey buns from Mrs. Pritchard when I was a boy. She makes the best pastries I have ever tasted anywhere in all the lands.”
“I know.” Krysta looked a wee bit guilty. “I have a sweet tooth myself.”
“Ah…” Drake sat back in his chair, watching her. “So that’s why you chose Pritchard’s.”
“I confess I have a weakness for Mrs. Pritchard’s baking. Much to my chagrin. Eating here the past few months, I’ve gained at least five pounds, so I try to limit it to once a week.”
Drake inspected her ultra-feminine form. “Well, I certainly can’t tell.” His gaze shifted to her lovely gray eyes. “I like a woman with curves.”
She laughed outright, charming him with her open response. “You are such a rogue.” She didn’t flirt like the other women he’d known. She meant every word, and not in a teasing way. Drake sat up, eager to disprove his reputation for some reason, though he’d never felt the need to defend himself before.
“I’ve been many places and seen many things. I’ve done a lot I would never relate to my mother” he paused to chuckle, “but I’
ve never played a woman false. I’m not quite a rogue, though I admit, I’m probably very close.”
“Well at least you’re honest.” She leaned back, regarding him. “I like that about you.”
“Honest and true to my word.” His eyes lit with a playful twinkle as he nodded. “You’ve learned that much about me already. What will you do when you discover I’m loyal, faithful and steadfast, I wonder?”
“Pat you on the head and toss a stick for you to fetch?”
He burst out laughing. “I’m not a dog, but around you I definitely feel frisky as a puppy.” He pitched his voice low, to skate along her nerves. He knew he’d hit his mark when he saw her shiver.
He would have followed up on the small victory, but Mrs. Pritchard bustled over. Drake stood to receive her friendly hug as she marveled over how much he’d grown. The older woman had been one of his favorite people in Castleton, both for her excellent cooking and her understanding wisdom. Many times, he’d sought refuge here after one of his father’s rebuffs. Mrs. Pritchard fussed over him, nearly coming to tears when he leaned down to kiss the motherly lady on the cheek.
It touched him deeply that she remembered him. He’d thought at the time he was just one of many youngsters who clamored after the woman, eager for one of her sticky buns. He was pleased to learn she’d felt genuine affection for the troubled boy he’d been and seemed proud of the man he’d become.
They talked for a few moments before the business of the inn called her away. When he sat back down at the table, Krysta was eyeing him.
“She loves you.”
“I love her too. She’s a very special woman.” He tossed his napkin on his lap, trying to be nonchalant. Truth was, the woman’s greeting had thrown him more than he liked. His emotions were much closer to the surface than usual. “She has a soft heart and a kindness for strays. Hmm. Maybe I am a dog after all.” He chuckled, settling back in his chair as little Mary brought their breakfast on two metal plates.