Me and My Shadow

by Katie MacAlister

  “. . . never been treated in such a manner. What?” He stopped muttering as he dabbed at his bloody nose. “Yes, of course I came here for you. You and that turn-coat thief taker who has been shielding you.”

  “Savian Bartholomew?” I shook my head. Gabriel and I had discussed the fact that sooner or later Dr. Kostich was going to find out where I was, and I was confident that I could placate him by some means or other. “He’s not here. In fact, he’s out of the country.”

  Dr. Kostich wadded up the bloody tissue and flung it onto a nearby table. “Then I will simply track him down as I have tracked you down. You are under arrest, May Northcott, and wyvern’s mate or not, you will accept the punishment meted out to you by the council!”

  “No,” I said, shaking my head a second time.

  Dr. Kostich stared in surprise at me for a moment.

  “You go, girl. Don’t let that arcane bully push you around. You’re my twin! He can just stick that in his—”

  “That’s enough from the peanut gallery, thank you,” I said hastily, giving Cyrene a quelling look that she completely ignored. “Dr. Kostich, I recognize the fact that you feel it’s necessary for me to pay for alleged crimes, but I am—Oh, what now?”

  Through the partially opaque bulletproof glass that lined either side of the front doors I could see the shapes of two men as they pounded the knocker. A sudden familiar sense struck me just as Nathaniel went to answer the door, an awareness that I recognized came from the dragon shard, not me.

  “No, don’t—” I started to say, but at that moment Nathaniel reached the door. It was flung open with a violence that sent the dragon flying backwards into Maata, who had rushed forward to stop him.

  A man stood in the doorway, dark-haired, dark-eyed, large, and imposing, his long dark chocolate hair pulled back from a widow’s peak.

  “Baltic,” I said, my breath caught suddenly in my throat.

  His ebony eyes lit on me, amusement filling them. “Mate. I thought I would find you here.”

  “I am not your mate. You would think after I’ve told you that so many times you’d begin to understand that. Would it help if I wrote it out on flash cards?”

  “I understand more than you can possibly conceive,” he answered with typical dragon arrogance.

  “Who is this?” Dr. Kostich demanded to know, his eyes narrowed on the newcomer. “Who are you, sir, that you would interrupt official L’au-delà business?”

  It was clearly up to me to make the introductions. “This is Baltic, Dr. Kostich. Sometimes referred to as the dread wyvern Baltic, although I believe that title was granted him in the past, back when he was leader of the black dragon sept.”

  “Baltic.” Dr. Kostich frowned as he tried the word a couple of times. “Baltic. I believe I remember something about a dragon with that name.”

  I smiled to myself at the irritated look that flashed for a moment in Baltic’s eyes. It was interesting to see that even the cool, collected Baltic had an ego that could be prodded.

  “Wasn’t there some business concerning you that ended with the death of a wyvern? A female, one who fought against you. Had a French name.”

  “Ysolde?” I asked, trying to think of anyone who could fit that description. My knowledge of dragon history wasn’t that great, but I had read what I could find about the silver dragons.“She was a wyvern’s mate, not a wyvern.Although she did have a French name: Ysolde de Bouchier.”

  “That’s it,” Kostich said, giving a curt nod before considering Baltic again. “You destroyed a wyvern’s mate.”

  Baltic’s face grew dark. He stalked over to Dr. Kostich, whom I had to admire for not even flinching in the face of a furious dragon. “I did not destroy Ysolde. Constantine Norka did that!”

  I felt my jaw sag a little as I slid a glance toward Maata. “Ysolde was killed by the silver wyvern?” I asked her in a whisper.

  Her face was impassive as she watched Baltic. “That was before my time.”

  Typical dragon nonanswer.

  “I thought you died,” Dr. Kostich asked, flicking a piece of lint from his arm with studied nonchalance. I might be a master at presenting a calm appearance in a highly charged situation—or rather, I might have been before the dragon shard embedded itself in me—but I had to give Dr. Kostich kudos; his indifferent, placid expression made me look like an amateur. “I am sure they told me you were killed by one of your own sept members.”

  Baltic’s jaw tightened as he gave Dr. Kostich an assessing once-over. “You have the smell of alchemy about you, mage. I assume you received your quintessence back again?”

  “Again?” I asked, curiosity overriding my better sense. “No, I think that’s far enough, Baltic. Gabriel won’t be happy to hear that you forced yourself into his house; he’ll be furious if you insist on coming any farther than the front hall.”

  “You want us to throw them out, May?” Maata asked softly, her body language relaxed, but she stood on the balls of her feet, ready to pounce.

  “No, I don’t think that will be necessary. Whatever you have to say to me, Baltic, can be said here. And your little buddy can stay outside.”

  The man who stood silently behind Baltic, as dark and menacing as his leader, stiffened at the insult. All three silver dragons stiffened with him, just as if they were panthers about to spring. Baltic lifted his hand and his man backed down, taking a few steps backwards until he was on the front steps leading up to the house.

  “If you don’t mind, what exactly do you mean by again? Was the quintessence stolen recently?” I asked.

  Unexpectedly, a little smile quirked the corners of Baltic’s mouth. “You should know; the word is that you stole it.”

  “And returned it promptly the next day just as soon as was humanely possible,” I said quickly, glancing at Dr. Kostich.

  To my extraordinary relief, he was still focused on Baltic. “I know they said you were dead.”

  The muscle in Baltic’s jaw jumped again.

  “The word ‘again’ implies it was stolen before. You wouldn’t happen to be interested in alchemy, too, would you?” I asked Baltic.

  He shot me an irritated look. “I am no glorified chemist playing with potions.”

  “But the quintessence—”

  “May be the focus of an alchemist’s interest, but I have no use for transforming matter at all. He can keep his precious quintessence,” he interrupted with a particularly wolfish smile. “I have come for my shard, mate.”

  Dr. Kostich sucked in a breath, his fingers twitching. Mages frequently drew elaborate runes in order to access their power. Although he stood in a relaxed position, with his hands apparently calmly at his side, I could see that his fingers twitched and jerked in what I realized was a subtle pattern. He was drawing a rune.

  Of the two evils, Kostich was definitely the lesser. The L’au-delà was governed by rules and laws; Baltic clearly made his own as he went along. Therefore, it would be hoove me to throw my lot in with Kostich, no matter if it was only temporarily.

  I lifted my chin and gave Baltic a long, calm look. “We’ve had this out before, Baltic. I’m not going to let you kill me just so you can get the shard.”

  Kostich’s pupils flared for a few seconds as he glanced at me.

  “I was referring to the shard you stole from my lair earlier today, although now that you speak of it, I agree that it would be more convenient to take both now than be forced to return for the second one later.”

  I tipped my head to the side as I looked him over, the dragon shard gleefully throwing caution to the wind. “I did not steal any shard. Well, not in the last couple of months. The Modana Phylactery was taken by its rightful owner, Kostya, not me. As for the other—the phrase ‘over my dead body’ has always seemed overly dramatic to me, but at this moment, it seems particularly apropos.”

  “You will find there are several bodies you will have to overcome in order to harm May,” Maata said, taking a step forward. The other two dragons did likewi
se, their faces wearing identical expressions of intent as they moved into flanking positions.

  Dr. Kostich’s fingers continued to weave a rune of power against the fabric of his pants leg.

  “You are threatening me?” Baltic asked, genuinely amused. I glanced toward the door where his cohort stood, half-afraid he’d come charging in, but he merely leaned against the doorframe, looking not at all worried.

  That fact made me more uneasy than anything else.

  “We will do whatever is necessary to protect May,” Maata said, inclining her head.

  “Then you will die with her,” Baltic said with a shrug. “You will all die if you try to stop me from retrieving what belongs to me.”

  “I’m a naiad,” Cyrene suddenly said. She jumped up and hurried over to stand next to me in a show of support. “I’m immortal. I can’t die.”

  Baltic slid her a quick look. “Would you like to place a wager on that assumption?”

  Cyrene showed rare circumspection by saying nothing other than a whispered, “Kostya was right—whoever this dragon is, he’s a pain in the butt. Show him what you’re made of, May.”

  “Kostya?” Baltic lifted his head as if he was scenting the air, his gaze narrowed on Cyrene. “You are his . . .”

  “Mate,” she said quickly.

  Baltic’s eyebrows rose.

  “Oh, all right, all right! I wish everyone would stop doing that when I tell them I’m Kostya’s mate. It’s annoying! I’m mate lite, OK? Not quite a full-fledged mate, but close enough to count. Not that I want him anymore, the heartless, unfeeling bastard. But if I did, I’d be his mate. Sort of.”

  We all stared at Cyrene as she had her verbal hissy fit.

  “Are you done now?” I asked politely.

  “Yes.” She crossed her arms over her chest, stuck out her lower lip in a truly world-class pout, and spread a glare among us all.

  “Good.” I turned back to Baltic. “I’m a little busy being arrested, so if you want to spew threats and enigmatic comments, you’ll have to do so later. Good-bye.”

  Baltic smiled. It was not a pleasant smile, despite his handsome face, and it did, in fact, light up his eyes, but it was a light that boded ill for anyone who stood in his way.

  “Your false sense of bravery is laudable. Useless and misguided, but laudable. I admire your courage.”

  “Thank you. Now bugger off,” I said, using a British phrase I’d heard in the street.

  He gave an abrupt shake of his head. “Not without the shard.”

  “The shard doesn’t leave me,” I answered.

  “You insist on doing this the hard way. . . . Very well.” His fingers danced in the air for a moment, but before he could do anything, Dr. Kostich finished drawing his runes. The air in the room suddenly collected at one point, then punched outward toward Baltic with the force of a luxury liner. Baltic’s startled yell as he was sent flying through the open door, stopped only by his dragon friend, was almost as loud as the compression blast made by the explosion.

  “My ears!” Cyrene screamed, clapping both hands over her head.

  “That was not nice, mage!” Baltic charged forward with a snarl, a ball of light bursting into being in front of him, stretching itself into a long, glittering blue-white shape. It was the light blade I’d seen him wield before, a weapon that no dragon should be able to use.

  Dr. Kostich gawked at it for a moment, stammering, “That is a . . . you cannot have that. . . . Who are you?”

  “Would it be a cliché to say your worst nightmare?” I asked.

  “Yes,” Maata, Cyrene, Nathaniel, and Obi answered.

  Dr. Kostich was too busy staring at the sword Baltic swung toward me.

  I didn’t wait for any more bons mots to occur to me; I took one look at Baltic, and let the dragon shard have free rein.

  It shifted me immediately, and I took advantage of the momentary surprise in Baltic’s black eyes to tail-slap him backwards, out the door again.

  Maata and Nathaniel shifted, as well, their silvery scales reflecting the light from the overhead chandelier as they flanked me. Obi remained in human form, clearly torn between joining us and protecting Cyrene and Dr. Kostich.

  “You’re outnumbered,” I called out to Baltic, sauntering with dragon ease to the door. “You might have the light blade, but are you strong enough to take on four dragons?”

  “Four dragons and one really pissed-off naiad,” Cyrene said, pushing her way between Maata and me to stand with her hands on her hips.

  “That’s it?” Baltic sneered. “That’s all you have to oppose me? Do you have any concept of just what powers I have learned? Can you even guess as to what I could do to you and your friends with the merest flick of my fingers?”

  I was ready for the attack even before he started forward. With one hand I shoved Cyrene backwards, a little harder than I would have liked, but she was vulnerable, and I would not put it past Baltic to strike at her in an attempt to weaken me.

  His sword flashed as it swung toward me. I spun around, my tail sounding a whipcrack as it slammed into him, but I wasn’t quite fast enough—the light blade bit deep into my leg, burning me with an icy fire the likes of which I’d never before felt. I slammed shut the door in the face of Baltic’s companion, roaring my fury as Maata and Nathaniel rushed forward into the fray. Baltic didn’t shift to a dragon form; he simply parried all the attacks with his sword, looking almost bored, the bastard.

  “Enough!” Dr. Kostich bellowed, his hands drawing the last of another set of runes. “This will end now!”

  Another explosion of air and light rocked the house, sending all of us flying backwards—all but Baltic.

  Kostich stared at him with mingled horror and confusion for a moment before the dragon shard, tired of my feeble attempts to direct my foreign dragon body around, took charge of the situation. In a flash, I was on top of Baltic, having knocked him to the ground, his blade skittering away on the marble floor, great arcs of light flying from it as it spun. I snarled and bit at Baltic as he flung me off him, leaping to his feet in order to run after his sword.

  “Oh, no, you don’t,” I growled, lunging forward onto him, dragging my claws down his back, cutting deep through material into his flesh.

  He screamed with pain and spun around, trying to dislodge my hold on him. “We will finish this now,” I yelled, biting hard on his shoulder. I tasted blood, spitting it out as he threw himself onto the floor in a rolling move meant to loosen my hold on him.

  It worked. I slid across the floor, scrabbling desperately with my claws for a hold. Maata and Nathaniel raced toward him, but Baltic was too fast in human form—he snatched up the blade, leaping over Maata as he headed toward me.

  Kostich’s blast of light must have lit up the block. It wasn’t the same sort of compression blast of air as he’d used before—this one was a golden halo of light that suddenly burst through me, burst through the entire block, bedazzling and blinding and bringing everything and everyone to a complete halt for a few seconds.

  As the light dissipated, I shook the dazzle from my brain, and looked around for Baltic.

  He was gone. The front door stood open, but when I rushed to the street, shifting back to human form as I did so, it was bare of dragons. The few people that stood outside had odd expressions on their faces, as if they were bemused.

  “They will not remember what happened,” a voice spoke behind me. “Mortals seldom do.”

  I turned to search the face of the man beside me. “You saved us.”

  “No.” Kostich shook his head, his expression grim. “You did that. All I did was give you a little time.”

  “Whatever it was, it worked.”

  “No,” he repeated. “If it had worked, he would be incapacitated at best. But while everyone else was stunned by the light, he escaped. He should not have been able to do that.”

  “What exactly was the light? It left me feeling stunned.”

  “It was an arcane concussion blast, a m
inimized version. A full concussion would have blown out the walls of this house. As it is, it merely served as a brief distraction.” Kostich looked worried as we returned to the house. “The dragon should have been affected by it as we were, but he was not. And there is the blade—he should not have that light blade. It belonged to a famous archimage.”

  Slowly, I closed the door and leaned against it while I considered Dr. Kostich. “I’m not going to allow you to send me to the Akasha, you know. I have too many things to do here. Baltic is one of those things.”

  He hesitated for a moment, glancing from Cyrene to the dragons and back to me. “I believe we might be able to come to an accord regarding that.”

  “What sort of an accord?” Cyrene asked, coming forward. She stopped at a look from me. “Sorry, May. I thought you might need a little bit of help, but . . . never mind.”

  “What sort of an accord?” I asked Kostich.

  “One which we will each find satisfactory. You wish to be pardoned, and I wish to have the von Endres blade. Do you think we can help each other?”

  I stared at him for a moment. “You want Baltic’s sword?”

  “Yes. It disappeared when the archimage von Endres died. I had thought it lost to us, but to see it now being wielded by a dragon . . .” He shook his head, his expression puzzled. “I do not understand how it can be. No dragon can use arcane magic.”

  “Perhaps one who was resurrected can,” I said slowly.

  Kostich’s look was piercing. “He was resurrected? You are certain?”

  “Fairly. There’s no other way he could be alive now otherwise.”

  “I begin to see the light,” Kostich said slowly, his gaze directed inward. “That could be why my quintessence was stolen. If so . . . very well. This will take some doing. I will not be unprepared next time I meet him. A triumvirate, I think, will answer. My apprentices are ripe for such a challenge, and with your aid, I believe we will be successful. You agree to my terms?”

  “I don’t even know what they are,” I said cautiously.