Phoebe leveled her gaze on him and spoke in a flat voice. “Have you sold a garrote that could have been used to kill a shifter recently?”
The sorcerer didn’t blink. “I do not discuss my client’s transactions with anyone else.”
“Brave words, sorcerer.” She took several steps toward Javier and leaned down until their faces were only a foot apart. “I could kill you where you sit, and nothing could stop me.”
He lifted a hand, sending blue sparks toward Phoebe. She flinched but showed no other signs his magic had affected her. Conrad and I exchanged confused looks. What the hell had he just tried to do to her?
“Nice try,” she said in a cold voice. “But I’m no easy target.”
Javier’s gaze hardened. He snapped his fingers, and a dozen sharp spikes appeared floating in the middle of the room. With a wave of his hand, he sent them flying at Phoebe. She straightened and let every one of them bounce off of her. Even the ones that struck her face and throat only left the tiniest of scratches. That explained what she meant by resistant to magic—she only took the tiniest hit from the spells. I wondered if that meant she could see through Verena’s concealment spells on her house. That could be useful in the future.
“I’m growing weary of your stall tactics, sorcerer. Tell me what I want to know…” She reached out and put a hand around his neck. “Or I will kill you.”
I leaped up. “Wait. He still has to tell me where the children are.”
“Oh, he will,” she said, keeping her gaze on him.
The scent of scorched skin began to permeate the air.
Javier held still, his lips pressed tightly together for another minute before his shoulders slumped. I got the impression he’d tried to fight off the heat coming from Phoebe’s fingertips and failed.
“I’ll tell you,” he croaked.
She removed her hand, revealing the angry, red marks on his throat, but stayed close to him. “Who purchased the garrote?”
“A female shifter.” He paused to cough and loosen his shirt collar. “She didn’t give her name, but I gathered it from her aura. It was Ember.”
A slow smile spread across Phoebe’s face. “That’s what I thought. When did she purchase it, and what did you trade for it?”
“Eight days ago. She offered information in exchange,” he replied.
It occurred to me that I’d missed Ember by a day when I’d come to visit Javier. If I had been here one day earlier, I might have run into her. What kind of shifter murdered someone else in their clan for no good reason? Phoebe had told me the victim was well-liked and respected.
Phoebe narrowed her eyes. “What information?”
He hesitated. “Information about your clan. She…she told me about your father and the upcoming Bitkal.”
Was that how Javier got his information? Not necessarily through magic but by trading it for material goods? Could he have been dealing with the pure dragons as well? I had so many questions, but I wouldn’t trust his answers even if he offered them freely.
“What else did she tell you?” Phoebe asked.
He shook his head. “Nothing.”
Her nostrils flared. “Liar! I can smell the stench of mistruth on you.”
“She said…” Javier worked his jaw. “She said that your eldest brother Zoran would become the next pendragon.”
Phoebe’s eyes sparked. “The Bitkal has not been held yet. How could she know that?”
The sorcerer shook his head. “I asked that as well, but she refused to say.”
Aidan’s sister stared hard at him for a minute, judging him. “Are you certain of that?”
“Yes,” he said, sounding strained.
Phoebe asked him a few more pointed questions, but she didn’t learn anything useful. Once she was done, she nodded toward me. “Now give her the address.”
“I would check the container first.” Javier’s expression and tone were firm. His pride had been hurt enough for one day, and he wasn’t giving in to any more bullying from Phoebe.
“Here.” I handed it over.
The sorcerer took hold of it and lifted the lid. After a moment of eyeing it closely, he shocked me by dumping the scales onto the coffee table between us. They piled up in glittering flecks of green, some spilling over the sides onto the floor. It took a while before he shook the last of them free. Conrad and I shifted in our seats, getting our first good look at exactly how much we’d gathered. I estimated it to be enough to fill half a dozen milk jugs—gallon sized.
“Holy shit,” Conrad swore under his breath.
Phoebe lifted a brow at me. “You’ve been busy.”
Javier sorted through the pile the way a ginseng buyer would check roots. Did he think I would put some fake plastic ones in there or something? I was beginning to feel a little offended by the time he stopped and looked up.
“This is of sufficient quality—though I’d prefer if next time you took a little more care when prying them off the dragon bodies.” He picked up one of the scales that had chips in it from one of the knives we used. “This is hardly usable.”
I glared at him. “Every minute I sit there prying those off is another minute the dead dragon’s buddies might show up. It’s dangerous. Have you ever tried getting them yourself?”
“No.” He tossed the scale over his shoulder. “But the other dragon slayers I’ve worked with have done a better job.”
“Oh, and where are the others?” I asked.
He didn’t answer.
I wished I could say it was a comfort to know I wasn’t the only one of my kind to work with him, but it only annoyed me more that he had manipulated other slayers as well. Could my father be included among Javier’s previous clients? Was that why he rushed out of town so quickly? Maybe it wasn’t just me, and there was more to it than I knew.
“Give her the address,” Phoebe said, staring down at him. “I’m ready to leave this place.”
Javier sighed and got up. He headed over to his desk where he took out a paper and pen, jotting something down. After he finished, he held the paper out to me. “Here.”
I moved toward him, taking it. “The airport?”
“Most of the hangars there are being used as dragon dens. I don’t know which one has the children, though. My sources only go so far.”
“Seriously, man?” Conrad stared at him in disgust. “You made us do all that work and you can’t even give us full intel?”
Javier shrugged. “That is all I have.”
“We’ll figure it out,” Phoebe promised, giving me a confident look. “Let’s get out of here.”
“Just one warning,” the sorcerer said as we reached the door. “There are dozens of dragons living there with new arrivals coming in regularly. You might want to bring help.”
Phoebe gave Javier a haughty look. “Don’t worry your pretty little head, sorcerer. We’ll be just fine.”
I was beginning to like Aidan’s sister.
Chapter 25
Aidan
Aidan stood before the assembled dragons at the center of the jakhal. They had concluded the last of the negotiations during the afternoon, eaten a celebratory feast for the midday meal, and now all he had to do was say farewell. He couldn’t get out of there fast enough to return home. Aidan stepped toward the pendragon and blew a puff of steam in her face.
She smiled in pleasure and returned the gesture. Be well during your travels, son of Throm.
He bowed his head. May your toriq always be blessed with strength and cunning.
Lorcan came to his side. I will escort you and your brethren to the border.
Aidan had expected no less. With a final nod for the pendragon, they lifted into the air. He and Lorcan took the lead while Falcon, Donar, and three escorts flew behind them. It was early evening now, and the sun had begun its descent in the sky. Aidan estimated that if there were no delays, they would make it home an hour or so after it set. It occurred to him that he was in a hurry because he was anxious to check on Bail
ey. The slayer wouldn’t have sat still at his lair for such a long length of time, and she’d likely gone out to fight more dragons. Her skills had improved considerably over the last weeks, but she still had much to learn. He could only hope she had not gotten herself into trouble during his absence. Aidan had been feeling this itch since shortly after he left, telling him he needed to check on her. It had been all he could do to ignore it and focus on his activities with the Faegud.
You did better than I expected with the negotiations, Lorcan said, breaking the silence through private communication with Aidan.
Your mother makes an excellent pendragon, he replied. It was the truth. Hildegard might be tough, but she was just what the toriq needed to regain their former glory.
She does, Lorcan agreed, staring straight ahead at the horizon. But she did not expect you to be such a natural diplomat—neither did I.
Aidan did not feel like a diplomat. He’d hated every moment of the treaty negotiations, and the idea of the clan’s future being on his shoulders. Last night, after he returned to his guest quarters, he’d told Falcon as much. The older dragon had said, “the day that major decisions don’t trouble you is the day you are no longer fit to do the job.” Excellent advice, though it did little to console Aidan. Would his father be pleased or upset by the signed treaty he was bringing back with him? He would find out soon enough.
I do what I must for my toriq, Aidan eventually replied.
A quizzical expression came over Lorcan’s eyes. Will you truly mate with one of our females if your siblings do not?
Aidan barely managed to keep his expression neutral. Yes.
It takes one far less observant than I to see you would rather not. Perhaps your sister will save you from making that sacrifice, Lorcan suggested.
I do not suppose you know who her lover was all those years ago, Aidan asked. Lorcan was one of the few who also knew about Phoebe’s liaisons with a Faegud dragon. Often, he had arranged the meetings so that they could see each other without anyone knowing.
Lorcan filled Aidan’s mind with ironic laughter. She never told you the identity of her lover?
No, he growled. It still annoyed him that his sister could not trust him with such a thing when he already knew the rest.
Ask her again and perhaps she’ll tell you now that there is peace between our toriqan.
I plan on it, Aidan replied.
They approached the Red River. The two males grew silent until they reached it.
Lorcan gave him a parting look. I will see you again soon, friend.
I’ll look forward to it, Aidan said.
He watched the Faegud dragons break off and turn around. Falcon and Donar caught up to him, and they picked up speed. All of them were tired and ready to return to the fortress as soon as possible.
Remind me to never go with you to negotiate a treaty again, Donar grumbled. The food was terrible. It will take me a week to get the bird feathers out of my teeth.
There are brushes for that, Aidan pointed out. Even in their dragon forms, shifters had enough dexterity in the fingers to use implements to clean their teeth. The pure dragons, though, had other tricks they used since their forelegs were too short and they lacked coordination in their paws.
Donar glared. You know what I mean.
Do you ever stop complaining? Falcon asked.
Aidan snorted. He gets this way when he is tired or bored.
And what puts him in a good mood? the older dragon asked, curious.
When he is eating his mother’s cooking, when he is fighting in battle, and when he’s had a romping night with…
Enough! Donar interrupted. I did not complain that much this trip.
Aidan and Falcon exchanged glances, but decided to let it go. They sped up their flight a little more, almost turning it into a race. Their speed was so great, in fact, that they arrived at the fortress in less than two hours—far better time than on the way down to see the Faegud.
After landing, Aidan asked the gate guards for his father’s current whereabouts. They informed him the pendragon was in his office. That was a good sign. If Throm was up and about, he must have been having a good day. More than anything, Aidan wanted his father to live for as long as possible. He didn’t like to think about how life would become once the pendragon was gone—regardless of who replaced him.
Aidan parted ways with Falcon and Donar after entering the keep and headed straight for the castle. The main thoroughfare was crowded, slowing him down. He had to weave his way around numerous shifters and humans. It was all he could do not to growl at them, impatient to give his father the good news so that he could go check on Bailey after that.
The scent of meat cooking over an open fire pit reached his nose. Aidan might have only been gone for four days, but he had missed the familiar smells of the keep. It wasn’t enough to deter him from his mission, though. He could wait until midnight meal to fill his belly and rid himself of the horrible taste of Faegud cooking.
Finally reaching the castle, he hurried through the great hall and down the corridors until he reached Throm’s office. The door stood open, as if the pendragon expected him. His father looked up as Aidan entered.
“Come in,” Throm said, his eyes lighting up. “And shut the door behind you.”
Aidan closed it and moved to stand in front of his father’s desk. Though he wanted to tell him the news right then, he had to wait for the pendragon to ask. It was the way of things and always had been. When he was a child, he would rush to say things without so much as a greeting, and he would be punished for it every time with a sound thwacking to the head. It had taken until his sixteenth year before he learned his lesson.
“I trust you had a safe journey, and the Faegud treated you well?” Throm asked.
Aidan nodded. “They did.”
The pendragon held out his hand. “You may give me the treaty.”
“Father?” Aidan gave him a confused look. He hadn’t even had the opportunity to say he’d succeeded in securing one.
“Son, if you had failed the guilt would be in your eyes—never mind the excuses you would have no doubt contrived for me.” Throm gestured with his fingers. “Now give me the treaty.”
Aidan pulled it from shiggara and handed it to the pendragon. Perhaps it was a silly thing, but he had looked forward to announcing the news. He should have known it would be all business with his father.
Long minutes ticked by as the pendragon read over the long document, unfurling it as he went. The entire time, Aidan thought about every stipulation and agreement, worrying over what faults his father might find. He had done the best he could and fought for every advantage he could possibly gain, but he had never even read a treaty document before. His father had refused to let him peruse them, saying it was best to see how Aidan did without relying on precedent. The only thing the pendragon had done was give him the details of what he could or could not give as concessions. It was barely enough to get him started.
Throm grunted. “They asked for interbreeding?”
“Yes.” Aidan held his hands behind his back. “Hildegard insisted there could be no treaty without it.”
The pendragon narrowed his eyes. “And you went ahead with the negotiations anyway?”
“You did not tell me it was something that could not be included…and to send word to ask you would have been seen as a sign of weakness,” Aidan said, standing behind his decision even if it meant losing his father’s regard.
Throm looked over that section of the document again, his expression unreadable. Aidan mentally prepared himself to be exiled from the toriq at any moment. His father had said that was a possibility if he failed on this task.
“Did Hildegard attempt to demand a certain amount of the children stay with her clan?” Throm asked.
“She did.”
The pendragon rubbed at his chin. “Yet the treaty says that every child has the right to choose their allegiance when they come of age.”
“They do
,” Aidan said, a glimmer of hope rising that perhaps his father was not too disappointed.
“You have also outlined a neutral territory between the clans and designated it as a place for where couples may live if they cannot or will not live within either jakhal.” He gazed closer at the document. “I am surprised you thought this far ahead, though I shouldn’t be.”
Aidan slowly let out the breath he’d been holding and replied, “Hildegard would have kept most of the offspring from our alliance if she had gotten her way. I pointed out that her clan is far larger than ours, and we need shape-shifter children as much as she does.”
“That female always was a greedy one, but I am pleased to hear she is the new Faegud leader. Hildegard has always honored her promises—unlike Severne. This treaty will keep her in line with all that you have put into it. I see that you have even ensured they must come to our defense, but we are not required to come to theirs with the exception of one battle planned for the spring. That is most impressive to get such a concession.”
Aidan bowed his head, grateful he had fought for that point. “I am pleased to hear it, father.”
“Will you be the one to mate with one of their clan?” Throm asked, perusing back up the scroll. “That part is not clear. It only says one of my children must do so.”
“I thought to give Zoran, Phoebe, and Ruari that option first,” Aidan answered.
Throm grimaced. “I’m not surprised Hildegard forced that concession out of you, but I hope it is one of your siblings instead. This clan needs you here, son. Whether you succeed me or not, I know you will look out for our people.”
Aidan refrained from checking his ears to be certain they operated properly. “Thank you, father. I am pleased you think so.”
“Give me time to read the rest of this over. I am certain it is all in working order, but I may have more questions for you on the morrow.” Throm rose up from his seat and came around the desk, pulling a surprised Aidan into a tight embrace. “You have done very well. Now go enjoy what is left of the evening and give an old dragon some peace.”
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