Sparks Fly: A Novel of the Light Dragons

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Sparks Fly: A Novel of the Light Dragons Page 28

by Katie MacAlister


  “Man alive, is she yelling at the First Dragon?” Aisling asked Drake, her eyes huge as I shook the First Dragon’s sleeve.

  “I believe she is,” Drake answered. “It is not something I ever wish to see you doing, in case you were thinking along those lines.”

  “I’d be afraid to,” Aisling admitted.

  “Ysolde, maybe you should take a few minutes to calm down,” May said, taking a few hesitant steps toward me. Her gaze kept skittering to the First Dragon as she added, “I think your emotions are running a bit high right now.”

  “Of course they’re running high!” I let go of the First Dragon’s sleeve to run my hand through my hair. “He’s trying to drive me insane.”

  “Baltic?” May asked, nodding toward me, obviously hinting that he should do something to stop me.

  Baltic crossed his arms and leaned against the wall of Dauva, but he said nothing.

  “Look, I don’t mean to be rude—”

  “Too late,” came a soft voice behind me.

  “But if you’re frustrated with me, I’m doubly so with you. So if you’d just once and for all tell me—”

  “This is beyond tolerable,” Thala said suddenly. “I have better things to do with my life than witness your pathetic little dealings. You’ll be mud beneath my heel soon enough.”

  She shot a look of pure loathing at pretty much everyone, and leaped on me, sending me flying backward with a wicked blow to my face. Pain stretched across my back for a second before there was a snapping noise, and then Thala was off, racing away with the black sword box in her hands, the broken leather strap trailing behind her.

  Baltic, who had caught me before I could hit the ground, gave a shout and tossed me forward to Drake before he ran after Thala. Pavel sprinted after him with only one backward look.

  “Really, Thala,” I yelled, my hands on my hips. “You have to pick now to do this? You don’t see that I’m busy with the First Dragon?”

  “Should we go after them?” May asked Gabriel.

  “She has the sword. I suppose we should.” Gabriel glanced toward the First Dragon before making a bow.

  “You stay here—I’ll go. He’ll never let you get the sword, but he’d let me have it,” I told Gabriel before racing past the First Dragon.

  “Running is so tiresome unless one is being chased by a being with a barbed cat,” Magoth said in a bored voice.

  I heard the others calling after me as I ran, but I ignored them, focusing on trying to remember the lay of the land. Dauva sat on the rim of a solid granite ledge that dropped several hundred feet down to a marshy wooded area, leaving only one side and the front vulnerable to attack. That was one reason why it was so successful at resisting attacks, but that didn’t matter to me at the moment; what did matter was where the game trail I raced along was taking me. I had a vague sense that the ledge was fairly close by on the left side, but the terrain had changed in the last few hundred years, and I could no longer rely on landmarks to guide me.

  The sound of crashing bodies through the underbrush warned me the others were following. It just drove me faster. I had to get that sword before Baltic, assuming he could get it away from Thala. I hoped Constantine had the presence of mind to come after me, so he could restrain Thala, but I had a feeling he wasn’t going to be as trustworthy as I’d hoped, not after the most recent experience with him.

  “I really hate it when I’m right about things like this,” I panted a few minutes later when I emerged from the heavily wooded area to a narrow stone ledge. I stopped a good dozen feet from the edge, but I had to take a minute to catch my breath before I could address the two people who stood there.

  “—betray me now as you have done in the past?” Baltic was in the middle of saying. He stood facing Thala, who held the black sword box in both hands. “What have you done with my talisman?”

  “What do you think I did with it?” she answered in a snotty voice, a cruel smile on her face. She pulled a narrow gold chain out from under her shirt, allowing a flat disk of gold hanging from it to dangle before him. “If it means so much to you, you should take better care of it.”

  “I did. You betrayed my trust there, as well.”

  “I did tell you it was folly to trust anyone,” she answered with a little shrug, then yanked the chain off her neck and threw it at his feet. “Let it not be said that I am not generous. I am through with it, so you can have it back. You may thank me for giving your mate one less thing to fuss over.”

  Baltic didn’t even look at the talisman lying in the dirt. “Do you think I care what you do, so long as it does not involve the light dragons? If it is your desire to avenge yourself against the archimage, then do so, but do not involve me or those I am responsible for.”

  “You really believe that’s what this is about? Revenge?” Thala laughed softly, gesturing toward him with the sword. I eyed it, wondering if I could snatch it and shove her over the edge of the cliff. It was high enough that the fall would likely kill even an immortal…. Mentally, I shook my head as the idea occurred to me. I couldn’t do that to her, not even when she had tried to destroy us. “Perhaps it is about revenge…of a sort. But not the type you or your precious Ysolde would understand.”

  She didn’t even look toward me as I edged a hair closer to her. I wanted the talisman, but more important, I wanted that damned sword.

  Behind me, voices called as the others tried to find our path. I assumed they were having a bit of difficulty finding us since they didn’t have Savian to find our tracks.

  “The sword is mine,” Baltic said, holding out a hand. “It was given to me, not you.”

  “That was a mistake,” Thala said, smiling. “Not one that will be repeated. Now if you don’t mind, I’m going to kill you once and for all, and then I think I’ll kill your mate, and after that—”

  I never did find out what horrible plan she had in mind, because Baltic sprang at her before she could finish her threat, sending her flying backward a good eighteen feet, right up against a sharp obelisk of stone that seemed to have erupted out of the earth. The force of the blow knocked the sword box from her hand, causing me to scramble forward and snatch it up before she could grab it again.

  I tied the broken leather strap around my waist even as Thala screamed an oath at Baltic. “You will not triumph again! Not after all this time!”

  “Mate, stay back,” Baltic ordered as Thala lunged at him, her hands dancing in the air as he sidestepped her.

  I gaped at the gestures she was making, recognizing them. “Baltic, she’s—”

  He, too, must have recognized them, for with a roar of fury, he sprang on her again…but she had finished casting her spell, and this time, it was Baltic who went flying.

  Right over the edge of the cliff.

  Chapter Seventeen

  Time as I knew it stopped. No, the world stopped. The universe stopped. I stared in dumbfounded horror at the empty space at the edge of the granite cliff where a nanosecond earlier, Baltic had stood.

  “My sword, if you don’t mind.”

  I continued to stare at the spot, my brain unable to process what it had just witnessed. With another oath, Thala ripped the box from the leather strap. I took six steps forward until I stood at the edge of the cliff.

  “Baltic?”

  The word came out as light as the wind.

  “Baltic?”

  “There she is. Ysolde, you’re a hard woman to track…. Erm…where are Baltic and Thala?”

  “Look, there’s Thala, running that way. Drake—”

  “You stay here, Gabriel,” Drake said. “István and Pavel and I will go after her.”

  “Are we chasing someone? I love a good chase. I love it even more when I catch the prisoner and can take her back to my palace, to my toy room, where I—”

  “That’s enough, Magoth,” May said. “You can go with Drake if you behave yourself.”

  “I will stay and guard my beloved one,” Constantine announced. “Unlike some
, I do not need to take prisoners to enjoy myself.”

  I peered down into the dark depths of the ravine. There was nothing—no flicker of color or movement, just…blackness. “Baltic!”

  The scream was horrifying to hear, filled with agony of such depth, it brought me to my knees.

  “Holy shit! Ysolde? Are you OK? That was the single most horrifying noise I’ve ever heard. Oh my god, May, she’s going to throw herself over.”

  Hands jerked me back from the edge as I was about to leap down and find Baltic.

  “What happened? Ysolde, what happened?” May’s voice was filled with concern.

  He couldn’t be…I shook my head. I couldn’t even put into words my worst fear.

  A black shape stood next to me. “Oh man, did what I think happen just happen?”

  I looked down at Jim as it peered over the edge of the cliff, then backed up hastily. “Man, it did. I never thought the dread wyvern could be killed twice, but I guess I was wrong.”

  “No,” I said as Aisling gasped in horror.

  “Who’s wrong? What’s happening?”

  I ignored the voices behind me, shaking my head as I focused on Jim. “No, you’re wrong. He’s not…He can’t…He didn’t…”

  It was the sympathy in the demon’s eyes that made me realize the horrible truth.

  Baltic was dead. He was gone, just like that, one minute standing before me, demanding that Thala give him the sword….“No, that’s wrong. Not Thala.”

  “Who’s not Thala? What is going on?”

  It was Constantine’s voice that spoke.

  I continued to stare at the demon as my brain tried desperately to pull together the pieces of a puzzle I didn’t know existed until that day.

  Hushed voices murmured in the background.

  “Baltic’s dead? Are you sure? Ysolde, my darling, my love, allow me to comfort you.”

  I shoved Constantine away without even thinking about it, aware of something behind me, a presence that seemed to compel me to turn.

  “He’s dead,” I said, ignoring everyone and everything that wasn’t at that moment important.

  The First Dragon just looked at me.

  “He’s dead,” I repeated, a bit more forcefully, striding toward him until I was a foot away.

  I was on fire, literally on fire, but even that didn’t distract me. I had one mission, one goal, one purpose to my being, and I would not let anything, not even the First Dragon, stand in my way.

  He inclined his head in acknowledgment of my statement, his eyes, his damned all-knowing eyes, simply watching me as if I were a particularly interesting form of insect.

  I punched him in the chest, just to see some sort of a reaction in his face or eyes. “Resurrect him.”

  There were a couple of gasps behind me.

  Slowly, the First Dragon closed his eyes.

  “Resurrect him!” I hit him again, harder this time, my fire burning so bright, it spilled out of me and crawled over him.

  “Why should I do so?” he asked.

  “You’re his father!” I screamed, tears washing my cheeks, the pain inside me so great it almost brought me to my knees.

  “I am the all-father.”

  “But he’s your son. Your last son.”

  “I did not resurrect my other sons when they died,” the First Dragon said.

  “You have to bring him back because I love him.” My voice was mostly a wail now, one painful to hear.

  “Some of my other sons, too, had mates who loved them.”

  “But this is different,” I gave in, sinking to my knees. “I can’t go on without him.”

  “You are willing to die, as well? What of your child? Are you willing to leave him behind in your desire to quit the mortal world?”

  I thought of Brom, the best part of me, my adorable, quirky child, and my heart contracted even more. “No. I can’t leave Brom. I can’t leave…no. I’m not willing to die. But if I have to live without Baltic, my heart will be dead. My soul will be dead. I will continue on because I must, and I will love and cherish those dear to me, but I will not truly live. I will just…be.”

  He said nothing. I had to try to reach him. I had to try to make him understand. “You have to bring him back. He’s the last of your children.”

  “All here are my children,” he said gently, waving a hand at the people collected. “Even you. Even the child growing inside you.”

  “Whoa!” Jim said, squinting at my midsection. “You’re preggers?”

  I put my hand protectively over my belly. “How do you know about that? I haven’t even told Baltic.”

  He just looked at me with those wise eyes, and an emotion boiled up within me until I knew it would spill out like acid.

  “I hate you,” I snarled, getting to my feet, ignoring the distressed murmurs of everyone present. “You are an abomination. You call yourself the ancestor of everyone, but you don’t want the responsibility that goes along with that. I am ashamed to know that my child will bear your blood.”

  “Ysolde,” May warned, her voice filled with shock. “Think of what you’re saying. Think of whom you’re saying it to.”

  “I don’t care,” I answered, never taking my eyes from the First Dragon. “If you won’t resurrect Baltic, then I will scour the world to find a necromancer who will. I don’t care how long it takes, or how much it costs, or what I have to sacrifice to do it, I will bring him back. And when he is safe in my arms, then you will know my full wrath.”

  He tipped his head to the side as he considered me. “You think to threaten me, daughter of light?”

  “Yes,” I said evenly, letting him see the soul-deep intention in my eyes. “I am threatening you.”

  “Oh, Ysolde, I really don’t think that’s wise,” Aisling said, starting toward me. She stopped when May put out a hand.

  “No one has ever threatened me,” the First Dragon said meditatively. His gaze sharpened. “What would you give to return Baltic to your side? Would you give your son’s life?”

  “No!”

  “That of your unborn child?”

  “Never.” I thought for a moment I would vomit, so sickened was I, but I managed to quell my emotions enough to speak. “You’re truly a monster, aren’t you? Are we all just a game to you? Something to amuse yourself with whenever you’re bored? You reprehensible, disgusting, vile—”

  He held up a hand, stopping me. “You would not give your own life, and you would not give your child’s life. What, then, do you have to offer me?”

  I stared at him, absolutely flabbergasted. “You’re…bargaining? You’re trying to cut a deal with me to resurrect Baltic?”

  “I am asking what you would give to have him returned to life.” He was silent for a moment. “I did not ask you what you would give before, when I had him brought back. Now, I do so.”

  “Before?” I shook my head. “You didn’t resurrect him. Thala did.”

  I swear I saw a twinkle of enjoyment in his fathomless eyes. It just made me want to scream and rip his head off. “Baltic is my son. Even the most gifted of necromancers could not resurrect him without my guidance.”

  I stumbled forward, tears once again filling my eyes as I knelt before the First Dragon. “Then do so again. Please. I will give you whatever you want, so far as I can. I love him with every ounce of my being, and I swear before everyone here that whatever you want, you will have.”

  “I’ve heard those words from you before,” he said, half turning from me. “I gave you a task, and you have not completed it.”

  I closed my eyes for a moment, agony twisting sharply inside me. “I tried to redeem his honor. I tried to get him to apologize for his part in the death of Alexei and Maerwyn. But he doesn’t—didn’t—seem to understand how important that was.”

  “I asked for you to ensure he paid for the deaths of the innocent,” the First Dragon said.

  “That’s Alexei, isn’t it? And by extension, Maerwyn. I tried, but—”

  “T
hey are part of it, but they are not the only ones who have suffered because of my son.” His gaze went beyond me, to scan the face of everyone there. “Baltic is flesh of my flesh. He was intended to make the weyr stronger in times when it was weak.”

  I closed my eyes again, insight smacking me upside the head. “But instead, the results of his actions tore it apart.”

  “The endless war?” Aisling asked.

  I nodded, wiping my face with my sleeve. “When Baltic refused to take Chuan Ren as his mate, the red dragons started the endless war.”

  “Thousands of my children died. Hundreds of thousands of mortals did so, as well,” the First Dragon said.

  “I don’t quite understand how,” Aisling said, looking warily at the First Dragon.

  My stomach twisted with grief and rage and regret. “The red dragons killed Maerwyn, Baltic’s mother, which triggered the separation between silver and black dragons.”

  “So Chuan Ren really did start the war,” Aisling said softly with a little whistle of amazement. “I knew it. I just knew she had to be behind it.”

  “The black dragons were all but destroyed.”

  “As were the silver dragons,” Constantine said, only faintly visible. “We suffered gravely because of Baltic’s actions.”

  My gaze returned to the First Dragon. “You hold Baltic responsible for the deaths of all of those dragons? Everyone who has died since the onset of Endless War?”

  “The deaths of the innocent weigh heavily on his soul,” he said, a typical dragon non-answer. “You were to redeem that sin.”

  “The flesh of your flesh,” I said softly, fighting the pain so I could think. I knew that everything I was and would be depended on getting this right. “He was supposed to bring strength to the weyr—” I stopped, once again insight striking me with an almost palpable blow. “You want him back in the weyr. You want our sept to join the weyr. But why? Baltic doesn’t care anything about the weyr.”

  “Man, what is it with you humans?” Jim asked, shaking its head. “You guys fall off the obvious wagon when you’re young or something?”

  “Jim, hush,” Aisling said quickly, turning to apologize.

 

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