The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons ld-2

by Katie MacAlister

  “Well, he’s not really a shade so much as he is kind of a . . . er . . . I don’t know quite what he is. God, maybe?”

  “Mate, I insist that you leave this murdering bastard and come with me to Dauva,” Baltic said, pulling me up against his side.

  “I like that! You murdered far more dragons than I ever did!” Constantine exclaimed.

  “Like hell I did! You wiped out the entire black sept!”

  “Not alone! The red dragons helped quite a bit, so Chuan Ren has to share the body count. Besides, it was kill or be killed. We were only protecting ourselves from your madness.”

  “I was not mad.” Baltic ground the words out through his teeth, the muscles of his arms and chest tense and tight. “I was trying to keep you from killing my mate. Which you did anyway.”

  “Me?” Once again Constantine’s voice was filled with surprise. “I did not kill Ysolde!”

  “We saw you,” I said sadly, leaning into Baltic for support against the horrible memories.

  “Right, that’s it. Patience at an end.” Maura pulled a very real-looking gun from her backpack. “We’re going to the hotel. Right now.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous. You can’t kill us,” I told her, startled nonetheless by the sight of the weapon. “How did you get that through customs?”

  “I didn’t. My chieftain had it delivered to me.”

  “Your chieftain? I thought you were the chieftain of your tribe.”

  “You thought wrong.”

  “Why is this woman holding a gun on us?” Baltic demanded to know. “Who is she?”

  “Maura Lo, this is my mate, Baltic. Baltic, this is Dr. Kostich’s granddaughter, the one I promised to help so that he would lift the interdict from me.”

  “Enchanté,” Constantine said politely.

  “I told you to leave the ouroboros dragons alone,” Baltic said, bending a stern eye on me.

  “Yes, and you know how much I love it when you order me around.”

  Constantine snorted.

  “Come along, no more chitchat,” Maura said, waving the gun. “I don’t want to have to shoot anyone, but I will if I have to.”

  “Do you honestly think we’re going to let you hustle us out of here? Do we look that—”

  Baltic didn’t wait for me to finish speaking. He simply jumped Maura, knocking her to the ground and snatching the gun from her hand.

  “You are so going to regret that,” she snarled as she leaped to her feet, brushing dirt and leaves from her hair.

  “Yeah? You and what army?” I said, letting my inner child have the pleasure of a few words of taunting.

  As the last syllable left my lips, a swarm of three men charged down the path, all brandishing large and lethal-looking firearms.

  Maura smiled.

  “Dammit, I hate it when my rhetorical questions go bad.”

  “If you would be so good as to accompany us back to the hotel, we can see about your ransoms,” Maura said, gesturing toward the three guys, whom I mentally dubbed Larry, Curly, and Moe. “We hadn’t anticipated taking both of you, but the more the merrier where a ransom is concerned, right?”

  “I’m so going to be filing a complaint about you to the Akashic League,” I told Maura.

  She rolled her eyes, and started to speak, but Moe shoved her out of the way and without further ado shot Baltic in the chest.

  “Interesting. I wonder if I could gather enough strength to hold a gun,” Constantine’s disembodied voice said with much speculation. “I wouldn’t mind taking a few shots at you myself.”

  I stared at the small black hole on the side of Baltic’s chest as it began to seep blood, then turned to glare at Moe. “Oh, that was brilliant. Now you’ve pissed him off.”

  Baltic, who had likewise been examining the bullet hole, roared with anger, shifted into dragon form, and leaped onto Moe.

  The three dragons all shifted as well. Moe was a red dragon, while the other two were blue. Maura, who had stared in stunned disbelief when Moe shot Baltic, quickly hurried forward, yapping about the dragons not following the plan.

  I yanked hard on Baltic’s dragon fire and set the ground under them ablaze.

  “We are following orders,” the dragon I dubbed Curly snarled at her, slamming her aside with his tail. “Just not yours.”

  “I will protect you, my beloved one,” Constantine’s voice declared right next to my ear.

  “You’re a damned ghost,” Baltic snarled as his fire lit up a circle around us.

  “Yes, and you’ve been shot.”

  “Even so, I’m more of a dragon than you ever were.” Baltic head-butted Moe, his claws slashing out at the same time, slicing deep into Moe’s chest. The other dragon screamed and shifted back into human form, scrabbling in the dirt for his gun.

  “And you’re a backstabbing, lying degenerate,” Constantine yelled, a slightly visible image of him forming.

  Dragon fire is a particularly ferocious sort of fire, and to my horror, I saw that the damp trees and moss didn’t slow it down in the least. The circle quickly spread outward, consuming several centuries-old trees as fingers of fire crept toward the forest edge.

  “That’s better than being a two-timing traitorous bastard,” Baltic yelled back, ducking as I leaped over his head and kicked the gun out of Moe’s reach. “She’s my mate! I’ll protect her. Ysolde, come over here and be protected.”

  “Resorting to name-calling isn’t helping, boys,” I shouted, stomping hard on Moe’s hand when he tried to grab my ankle. At the same time, I began to gather up arcane magic from the surrounding living things. “Besides, it’s probably not a good idea to call the First Dragon’s son by derogatory terms.”

  “What?” both Baltic and Constantine asked at the same time.

  “The First Dragon is bound to not like it, and frankly, I’ve had enough of being in his bad graces.”

  “Now you will die!” Curly said with a dramatic flourish of his gun at me.

  “Hi-ya!” My best Xena, Warrior Princess shout was the answer to that threat. I flung a huge ball of arcane power at Curly just as he was about to riddle me with bullets. He saw it coming, though, and ducked so it zoomed past him and hit Larry dead-on, causing a huge flash of light to temporarily blind everyone.

  “What the—what was that?”

  I shook the dazzle from my eyes and saw Maura stagger to her feet, rubbing her face.

  As the dragon fire raged around us, now more or less a small forest fire, everyone stood stunned by the blast of arcane light, staring at the spot where Larry had moments before stood. In his place was a two-foot-tall rock, an odd line of runes carved in a circle around the circumference.

  With synchronization that would make Olympic swimmers envious, everyone turned to look at me.

  “Er . . .” I said, eyeing the rock.

  Curly screamed a profanity and jumped over Baltic toward me. Constantine shouted something about saving me, but his form shivered and faded to nothing, leaving him profaning the air with a litany of oaths. I tossed out a few quick attempts to dampen the dragon fire that was consuming the forest around us, but couldn’t risk losing my concentration. In a contest between Baltic and the forest, the forest was bound to lose.

  Baltic grabbed Curly by the tail and with a massive effort flipped him over backward, sending him crashing into Larry the rock.

  “No! Stop it, all of you!” Maura shouted, waving her hands in the air. “This isn’t what we’re supposed to do! We’re just going to hold you for ransom, that’s all. There’s no shooting! I distinctly said ‘no shooting’ at the planning meeting.”

  Baltic flung himself on Curly, twisting his head with a bone-crunching noise that left me wanting to retch. Moe jumped onto his back, but Baltic knocked him backward, toward me.

  Maura limped forward, her gun raised.

  “You messed with the wrong wyvern’s mate, lady,” I snarled, gathering up another ball of arcane magic, but before I could fling it at her, Moe lunged sideways and
kicked out with one leg, sending me flying into a rock. My head connected with an audible thunk that was almost as painful to hear as it was to feel.

  Baltic screamed my name and shifted to human form in midleap as he ran to my side, pulling me up against his chest. “Ysolde! My love, are you hurt? Do not move. I will get a healer.”

  “They’re getting away,” Constantine’s voice informed us. “You go after them, Baltic. I will stay and attend to Ysolde.”

  “I’m sorry,” Maura said, gesturing with the gun. “This isn’t what was supposed to happen. We were going to kidnap you, Ysolde, that’s all. I had no idea she had other plans. I really am sorry.”

  Baltic carefully felt my neck and the back of my head, his hands coming away red as I woozily tried to sit up. “Maura, you have to listen to me—”

  “I’m sorry,” she said again, then with one last distraught look, turned on her heel and fled after Moe and Curly.

  Two Baltics weaved before my face, the flickering fire casting a reddish orange glow to his skin, but even woozy as I was, I could see the concern in his darkly mysterious eyes. “You’re never going to let me hear the end of this, are you?” I asked him.

  “Never,” he swore, and kissed me.

  Chapter Eighteen

  It took a good half hour for Baltic and me to put out the fire that, sadly, consumed a quarter of the woods. Luckily, the firemen who arrived to assist weren’t wild about entering a forest that had long been known to be cursed, so they and the curious bystanders remained on the fringes, soaking nearby buildings lest the fire jump to them.

  My head ached by the time we got the last of the fire tamped down to nothing, and it was with great relief that I sank onto the rocky mound that marked the opening to Baltic’s lair. “I’ve never known your dragon fire to get out of control like that.”

  “It doesn’t. It was your arcane power that fed the fire into an inferno,” Baltic told me, pulling out a flask from a small pack and handing it to me. I took a swig of it, relishing the fire of the dragon’s blood wine as it coursed down my throat.

  “Oh. I guess that was the Grace of the Magi, because I’ve never seen a reaction like that before.” I glanced to the side, where Baltic had tossed the runed rock. “What are we going to do with Larry?”

  “Who?”

  “The rock. I call him Larry.”

  Baltic shrugged, and pulled out his cell phone. “Leave it. It can do no harm here.”

  “It doesn’t seem right, somehow. I mean, he was a man, even if he was trying to kill you.”

  “He wasn’t trying to kill Baltic, my adorable one. He was trying to kill you.”

  I looked over to where the faintest outline of Constantine was visible as he perched on a boulder. “Me? Why would he want to kill me? Baltic, I understand—everyone wants to kill Baltic.”

  The love of my life shot me a look that made me bite back a giggle.

  “That is because he is a reprehensible, callous beast with no morals and even less intelligence,” Constantine said coolly.

  “Right,” I said, standing up and facing him. “That’s it—do you hear? That is it! No more calling Baltic names. I know you’re all pissed because I chose him over you, but I did so five hundred years ago! I loved him then, I love him now, and I will always love him. Get over it already!”

  Constantine’s outline straightened itself up. “Never! You gave yourself to me before he took you, and you will be mine again!”

  I narrowed my glare to razor sharpness. “You just don’t listen, do you? I love Baltic. You’re dead. Really, those two things should say it all!”

  “I am not dead,” Constantine said with dignity.

  I pursed my lips.

  “I am simply temporarily without life. If the archimage’s daughter can resurrect that one”—he waved a hand at Baltic—“she can resurrect me as well.”

  “Over my dead body,” I muttered.

  “He’s already seen to that,” Baltic snapped as he closed his phone and moved closer to me, glaring at the outline of Constantine. “Begone, spirit! You bother my mate.”

  Constantine sputtered with indignation.

  “I really don’t want to have to fight with you, Constantine, but until you accept a few facts, we’re going to have some issues.”

  “Do not attempt to reason with him, chérie,” Baltic interrupted. “It is useless. Constantine does not have the facility to do so.”

  “Like hell I don’t,” the annoyed shade said, getting to his feet. “But Ysolde has a point. I am here now, alive if not quite alive, and clearly things are different than they were in the past. Therefore, I will adapt. A good wyvern is always willing to try new things when necessary.”

  “You’re not a wyvern anymore,” I pointed out.

  “Of course I am. I was a wyvern when I died, and now I am alive again. Thus I am still a wyvern.”

  “Are you not listening? Maura told me you may be autonomous, and you can have a corporeal presence, but you’re not actually a living, breathing person.”

  “I’m as good as alive,” he said with a haughty sniff.

  “And two, you’re not the wyvern of the silver dragons anymore. A very nice man by the name of Gabriel Tauhou is.”

  “Tauhou?” He frowned. “I do not know this name.”

  “From what I understand, you knew his father, although I don’t know what his name is. Gabriel lives in Australia with his mate, May.”

  “He has a mate?”

  I looked at Baltic, who was punching a number into his phone and ignoring us. “Yes, he does. She’s a doppelganger.”

  “Ah. Created, not born. Clever, but it doesn’t matter.” Constantine shook his head and his form solidified about halfway. “I was wyvern before this Gabriel Tauhou. Now that I am back, he must stand down in favor of me.”

  “Yeah, good luck getting him to agree to that.” Distracted by a glint of anger in Baltic’s eyes, I watched him as he put away his phone. Despite my assumption, his anger didn’t seem to be directed at Constantine. “You weren’t calling Gabriel, were you? It would take him forever to get to Latvia, and I told you that my head has stopped hurting.”

  “I was attempting to contact Thala,” Baltic said, his hands on his hips as he scanned the surrounding area. Thick wisps of heavy white smoke still tainted the air, making it a little difficult to breathe, but since we were located in the center of the forest, none of the charred trees were visible.

  “Oh. I guess I must have forgotten about her. Where is she? You don’t think Maura and her Three Stooges got her, do you?”

  Constantine snorted.

  “No,” Baltic said slowly, his eyes narrowed in thought. “I begin to wonder if I haven’t been misled by her.”

  “Misled how?”

  “I will go find this wyvern and inform him of my return,” Constantine said, becoming solid long enough to suddenly whisk me into an embrace and press a kiss on my lips.

  Baltic spun around and started toward him.

  “Adieu, my lovely. I will return to deal with your obnoxious mate another day.”

  A profanity shot out as Baltic lunged for Constantine, but the latter evaporated into nothing, leaving us alone.

  “Dammit,” I said, realizing that in all the confusion I had neglected to pin Constantine down about what I needed to do to reclaim his honor. “He left! I needed to talk to him.”

  “Be grateful for small mercies,” Baltic said, continuing to scan the surroundings. “I am.”

  “Yes, but now I’ll have to track him down again to find out what the First Dragon wants me to do for him.”

  “Bah. He is of no concern. I am more worried about why Thala has abandoned us.”

  “He may not be of concern to you,” I said, my shoulders slumping as I made myself comfortable on my rock, “but you don’t go dissing the First Dragon’s son without some sort of repercussions, and I don’t want to think about what those might be. He’s angry enough with me already.”

  Baltic, who
had been looking out into the distance, turned to pin me back with a look. “Why do you keep saying that?”

  “Saying what? That the First Dragon is pissed enough at me, especially after he had to resurrect me a second time?”

  “No, before that.”

  I thought a moment. “That we shouldn’t go dissing Constantine? I know he irritates you, Baltic, but he’s dead, and is no threat to us anymore, so really, calling him petty names—”

  “You said the First Dragon’s son. You think Constantine is his son?”

  I looked into those fathomless eyes. “Yes. He is, isn’t he?”

  “No.”

  “But—” I shook my head. “He’s got to be.”

  “He’s not.” Baltic continued to search the surrounding area for only he knew what.

  “I think you’re wrong. I saw the First Dragon with him myself.”

  “Constantine is not the First Dragon’s son,” he repeated.

  “And just why are you so sure of that?” I asked, exasperated by his flat statements of denial.

  “Because I know who my brothers were.”

  “Goody for—” I stopped, my skin crawling as realization dawned in the dusty recesses of my brain. “Your brothers?”

  “Yes.” He leaped down off his rock and held out a hand for me. “Come. I see no signs she left, which means she must be in the tunnels. We will follow her trail.”

  “Your brothers?” He pulled me to my feet, but I stopped him before he could help me down into the lair. “Baltic, are you trying to say . . . ? You can’t be. You can’t mean . . .”

  “The First Dragon is my father, yes, mate.” He shook his head as he wrapped an arm around me and hefted me down into a dank opening into the earth. “My old Ysolde knew that. I don’t know how it is you have forgotten that fact, but you used to deal with it much better than you are now.”

  “Your father,” I said, breathing heavily through my nose, ignoring the rich odor of the soil as Baltic switched on a powerful flashlight, “is the ancestor of all dragons? The most powerful being in all dragontime? On par with a god?”

  “My old Ysolde used to call him an interfering arse,” he said, doubling over and leading me down a tunnel clogged with roots, debris, and dirt. “She was not intimidated by him. She once told him to mind his own business and let us get on with ours.”