Chapter Three

"U m," I said, not knowing how to greet the more-or-less god who was effectively my father-in-law, and wishing for the hundredth time that I had my memories back so I knew how I had addressed him in my former life. "Hello. I didn't summon you inadvertently again, did I?"

"No," the first dragon said, his all-knowing gaze drifting over to Constantine for a moment.

"I'll just…er…get back to what I was doing." Constantine gave a deprecating cough before he suddenly busied himself by examining the nearest item at hand, which turned out to be an exercise ball with some odd attachments. He hastily shoved that back and grabbed the item next to it, bending his head over it as he pretended to be engrossed with it.

I considered the First Dragon for a moment or two. "Since I assume you don't normally visit chic London sex shops, I'm going to assume you're here to speak to me? Or is it Constantine you want?"

We both looked at Constantine. He was absently fondling the betasseled teat of a lifelike blow-up sheep in fishnet stockings. Constantine reddened and shoved the sheep behind him, but he must have flipped on some sort of switch, because the sheep began to vibrate with a loud hum.

The First Dragon turned back to me and opened his mouth to speak, pausing when Constantine's sheep started baaing in what I can only imagine its creators thought was a seductive manner.

Constantine muttered to himself as he beat the vibrating, baaing blow-up doll against the wall in an attempt to shut it up.

"I gather it's me you wish to see." I cleared my throat and tried to look relaxed and not at all worried about that fact. The First Dragon's eyes were hooded, his face stern, causing my stomach to turn to lead.

"You have failed me, daughter of light."

"Baaaagggg…"

I turned an annoyed glare on the man behind me. "Constantine! We are trying to have a conversation here. Could you play with your sex sheep somewhere else, please?"

"I'm not playing with it, and it's not mine," he said, shooting little looks at the First Dragon. "I'm just trying to shut the damned thing up, but it won't die."

The First Dragon raised one eyebrow.

Constantine blushed even harder and began swearing softly to himself while alternately throttling the doll and beating it with the exercise ball.

A quick worried glance at the First Dragon sent my spirits plummeting, not that they were in any way buoyed by what he had said. "I'm sorry if I've failed you. I'm really not trying to, but I've had a horrible time trying to figure out just what it is you want me to do."

At a choked noise from Constantine, I recalled to whom I was talking, and made an apologetic gesture. "That is to say, it's difficult with my memory loss to understand what it is you want me to do. I'm happy to do it. I just needed a little guidance on what it is, exactly." Mentally, I groaned. I sounded as lame as I felt.

His gaze roved over my face for a few seconds, his expression, as ever, unreadable. "If you fail me entirely, daughter, there will be the gravest of repercussions, ones that I will not be able to correct. For your own sake, and for that of all dragons, you must right the wrong done. The sacrifice of the innocent shall not be wasted."

At his words, desperation swelled within me, desperation and fear, topped off with more worry than any one person should have. I wanted to tell him that I was trying, but that Baltic was being his usual dragon self and not giving me any help. I wanted to point out that I was starting at a disadvantage by not realizing what his relationship to Baltic was in the first place, and that if someone, anyone , had just taken pity on me and reminded me of things I had known in the past, I might have succeeded by now. Instead, I said the last thing in the world I expected to say to the ancestor of all dragons.

"Did you love Baltic's mother?"

His eyes widened slightly. The air around us stilled, as if all life had ceased but for the three of us.

"It's just…I've always wondered. You seem to care about him a lot, and I thought maybe that was because his mother was very dear to you…." My voice, fortunately, trailed off to nothing. The basket handle bit painfully into my hand as I waited for him to either smite me dead on the spot for being so bold, or to answer my question. I fervently hoped he'd do the latter.

"Hope for the future lies within you," he said after half a minute of extremely painful silence. "For the sake of it, you must succeed."

A chill swept over me as he turned away, but before he could disappear, he turned back to look at me, his eyes, so fathomless, not even remotely human. "If I did not, you would not be here."

I blinked a couple of times in confusion, not sure what that meant.

"Why did you ask him about Lady Maerwyn?" Constantine clutched a now-deflated—although still vibrating—sheep in one hand, and the giant exercise ball in the other. "And what did he mean by his answer?"

"Lady Maerwyn?"

Constantine gestured with the ball. "Baltic's mother."

"Ah. I'm not entirely sure what he meant," I said slowly, suddenly feeling the urge to cry. What a tragedy for the father of all dragons to lose his beloved mate. "And far be it from any dragon to just come out and answer a question when it's put to him." I shook the shadows from my head and glanced at Constantine, who still held the giant ball. "How on earth are you supposed to get two people on that at the same time?"

For a second or two he looked at me as if I were mad, then glanced down to the sex toy. "Why would you try to get two people on it?"

"Well, it has two…er…phalluses on it. That means it's for a couple, doesn't it?"

He coughed and shoved the deflated sheep into his basket, replacing the exercise ball on the shelf. "Not in this case."

"Really? But then what is the second…" My eyes widened as I understood. "Oh. That has to be really…never mind."

"Not quite your style, eh?" He didn't make another risqué comment, which took me by surprise. Instead, he said in a voice filled with wonder, "The First Dragon visited you. I do not believe he has ever done such a thing without first being summoned."

"And can I say just how much of the world I feel is on my shoulders right now? Don't fail or I what, wipe out the entire weyr?" I slumped against a shelf full of strap-on devices in varying sizes, colors, and species. "I really am getting tired of his dumping everything on me. I'm half tempted to just do as Baltic tells me, and ignore him, but unfortunately…" I stopped, realizing I was babbling everything to a man who didn't particularly care if I fulfilled the task with which the First Dragon burdened me. "Well, enough about that. My time is up, and I have an appointment elsewhere. I will talk to you soon, Constantine. Enjoy your spectral whip and sexy sheep."

"Ysolde! I am not through discussing…blast and damnation!"

I glanced back to see him fading into nothing. I smiled and blew him a kiss before he disappeared completely. He followed me, unseen, to the register as I paid for my items, but after a few minutes, he ran completely out of power. With a few impotent snarls of rage, he disappeared entirely.

"And I am so grateful that he stayed in a corporeal state for as long as he did," I said to myself as I got into the car.

"Who?" Ludovic asked.

"Constantine."

"The silver wyvern? The former one, that is?" Ludovic looked startled.

"Yes. He's a shade now. I'm surprised you haven't heard about it."

He blinked at me a couple of times, then nodded. "Very well. To the green wyvern's house, I assume?"

"Yes, please." I sat back while Ludovic drove through the busy London traffic, my thoughts tangled and confused.

Sadly, I was beginning to get used to their being in that state.

"I'll call if we're done earlier than two o'clock," I told Ludovic a short time later as he saw me to the door of Aisling and Drake's London house.

"I will be nearby," he said, bowing in that formal way of all dragons. His manners may have been smooth as silk, but the way his eyes watched everyone on the street belied a background in protection that was comprehensive enough to pass even Baltic's stringent requirements.

I patted Ludovic on the arm before entering the house. "You don't have to hide in the shadows and covertly watch everyone who walks down the street. In fact, I know you'd be welcome for lunch at Drake's house."

He shook his head, his gaze flickering hither and yon, watching for any potential threat. "This is my job, Ysolde. I will fulfill my duties in a manner worthy of the blue dragons."

"He's sooo serious," I told Aisling and May some ten minutes later, after having spent a few minutes playing with Aisling's twins before they went down for their naps. "I know that Baltic put the fear of god into him about keeping me safe, but he won't even go sit in a pub when I'm shopping. He has to lurk in darkened doorways and skulk along alleys, waiting for Thala to pounce."

"If I had to answer to Baltic, I'd be skulking in the shadows, as well," May said with a little laugh, leaning down to scratch the hairy belly of the demon in large black Newfoundland dog form that was Jim.

"Aw, yeah, right there…" Jim's voice trailed away in bliss as one of its back legs kicked wildly when May hit a particularly itchy spot. "You have the best fingernails of anyone, May."

"I should—they're long enough," May said with a smile, holding up her hand and waggling her crimson-tipped dragon claws.

I considered them for a moment. "I'd just like to know why the shard, the very same one I carried, left you with the ability to shift into dragon form even though you're a doppelganger, while I, who was born a dragon, can't do so."

"I thought you were resurrected as a human," Aisling said, entering the library, followed immediately by a couple of green dragons laden with trays of food. "Er…the last time you were resurrected, that is. I wasn't around for the first one. Lunch, anyone?"

"Hooyeah!" Jim cheered, leaping to its feet and sniffing the trays. "Now that's what I'm talkin' about."

"You will eat only what you are given, and if I catch you mooching off May and Ysolde, it'll be off to the Akasha with you," Aisling warned as the table was laid out with tempting dishes.

"Yeah, yeah, heard it before. You da big bad demon lord, and I'm just the lowly demon. Hey, where's my burger?"

"That is your burger," Aisling said, nodding at the chopped-up contents of a plate in a raised dog bowl.

Jim sniffed and wrinkled its nose. "That's not a burger! It smells like cereal and crap."

"It's a vegetarian burger. It's healthy and low fat, and it's just what you need if you're going to lose that extra ten pounds the vet says you need to drop. If you don't want it, you don't have to eat it. Now, let's see…Ysolde, our cook heard me talk so much about the wonderful food you had at the sárkány , she wanted to make sure you'd enjoy this lunch, so she went all out with the menu. Here we have panfried Tasmanian ocean trout with butternut squash gnocchi, and that is the orange-honey marinated beetroot, ricotta, and pine nuts tossed with a citrus dressing, and over there is a crisp flatbread, topped with Gruyère and ham."

"Oh man! And all I got was a low-fat crap burger!" Jim whined, watching with pathetic eyes as Aisling pointed out each dish. "I love Tasmanian ocean trout!"

"Beetroot, ricotta, and pine nuts," I repeated as we took our seats around the table laden with delicious food. "I'll have to tell Pavel about that. I never thought of pairing up beetroot and pine nuts."

"Bet Pavel wouldn't starve my magnificent form with crap burgers."

"It looks delicious, Aisling," May said as she took a seat next to me.

"Bet Gabe wouldn't, either."

"I hope you like it. Suzanne felt we had some standards to live up to," Aisling said with pride as she skirted Jim and pulled out a chair.

Jim sighed and slumped over so its head was resting in its bowl. "Can I have the leftovers?"

"No," Aisling told it. "Eat your healthy burger."

"You didn't even have Suzanne make me proper fries. These are sweet potato fries."

"You love sweet potato fries, and so help me god, Jim—"

"I'm eating, I'm eating. But if I waste away to nothing and you have to get me another form because this one is skin and bones, I'm going to pick an elephant or something. Then you'll really be sorry when it's time to take me for walkies."

Luckily for Jim, the tempting dishes before us served as an ample distraction to keep Aisling from carrying through with her threat to banish it to the demon version of limbo. A short time later, when we were done moaning that we had all eaten too much of the wonderful lunch, Aisling called the meeting to order.

"On our agenda today—" Aisling stopped as the door to the library was thrown open with a flourish.

"Am I late?" asked the woman who stood there, her blue eyes lighting on the remaining food. "Oh goody, I'm not too late. Is that beetroot? I love beetroot!"

"Cyrene," I said, blinking a couple of times in astonishment at the sight of May's twin when she hurried over to the table and helped herself. "I didn't know…that is, I wasn't aware…er…" I cast a helpless glance at May and Aisling.

May gave a weak smile. "I meant to warn you that Cyrene was back in town, Aisling. She…uh…showed up last night to spend the night with us, and heard Gabriel mention the Mates' Union meeting."

"Butternut squash gnocchi!" Cyrene squealed as she hauled over a chair and sat down with her loaded plate. "How did you know I loved butternut squash? Oh, and the union? Totally fabulous idea, Aisling. I'm so in on it."

"I wasn't…eh…I didn't think you would be interested in a mates' union," Aisling said, clearly floundering with the rest of us. "Drake never said anything about…and you're not really…are you?"

"Am I what?" Cyrene asked around a mouthful of trout and gnocchi.

"What she means is, did the K-man lose his mind and take you back, or are you still boinking Neptune?" Jim said, spitting out a piece of parsley garnish. "You gonna eat that last bit of trout?"

"Lose his mind!" Cyrene sputtered, outraged. "As if Kostya would have to lose his mind to beg me on his knees to return to him, which is naturally what has happened since I'm here now, aren't I?"

May, who had more insight into her twin than the rest of us, watched her with a wariness that was telling. "If you're back with Kostya, then why did you spend last night with us?"

"Kostie-kins has been out of town," Cyrene said, waving away the question with her fork. "You know how lonely I get, so I'm sure he'd want me to stay with you until he gets back."

Aisling opened her mouth as if to speak but instead tipped her head on the side as she listened. A slow smile lit her eyes as she said simply, "Well, I'm glad to see you again, Cyrene, although I have a feeling you're not going to be quite so happy in about thirty seconds."

I caught the rumble of masculine voices at the same time May did, both of us turning to the door seconds before it opened and two men strolled in.

"I know you are having your meeting," the man in the lead said, his green eyes glittering with some secret amusement as he strolled over toward Aisling. "But it would be a rudeness for us to not greet May and Ysolde—" He came to a halt at the sight of the fourth person at the table.

"Good afternoon, Drake," I said, watching with interest as his older brother froze with a horrible expression of complete and utter disbelief on his otherwise handsome face. "Kostya, it's nice to see you again. I'm glad you're here, actually; I was planning on giving you a call while I was in town."

"What is she doing here?" Kostya asked, pointing at Cyrene and sucking in approximately half of the oxygen left in the room.

"Kostie!" Cyrene squealed after looking disconcerted for a moment. "You're back! Lambkins!"

Kostya, I noted absently, was looking much more like his old self. I remembered him well from my past as Baltic's former heir, and the man who had stood by him for many centuries—until the day he decided to kill Baltic. He'd always been a darkly handsome man, with the black eyes and onyx hair so common in black dragons. But when I'd been reintroduced to him a few months before, he'd been thin to the point of gaunt, having suffered, so Aisling informed me, from imprisonment and starvation at the hands of lawless, septless dragons.

Now he was looking much healthier, breadth and depth returning him to an impressive figure of a man, and although I'd be the last person to ever apply the word "happy" to Kostya, his expression the last month had been much more relaxed.

Kostya sidestepped Cyrene as she leaped from the chair and tried to throw herself on him. "I am not your lambkins, and I will thank you to refrain from flinging your person at me."

"Oh, Kostie," Cyrene said with a simper, flashing glances around us. "Silly dragon, thinking you ever stopped being my one true love."

May groaned as Aisling rubbed her hand over her face, shaking her head. Drake moved to her side, his hands on her shoulders as he watched his brother. I watched Kostya, too, interested to see what he'd do.

"Silly dragon?" Kostya roared, his expression as dark as his hair as he glared at Cyrene. "You left me! You made me name you as a mate—despite the fact that you aren't a wyvern's mate—in front of all the weyr, and then you left me six weeks later!"

"I didn't really leave you. I just had to go do some…er…work…."

"You told me I was a beast and cruel and wasn't worth the ground you walked on!" Kostya stormed. "You said you hated me, and that you were going away to live with some water god, and you never wanted to see me again."

Cyrene, with another glance at the rest of us, tried to put her hand on his arm, but he snatched it back with a disbelieving glare. "Now, dumpling, I'm sure the others aren't interested in our silly little squabbles—"

"Squabbles!" Kostya bellowed, sucking in the remainder of the air in obvious preparation for continuing at that volume.

"Cyrene, I think now is not the time to have this discussion," May said, taking her twin and pushing her toward the door. "You're just upsetting everyone, and if Kostya continues to yell like that, he'll wake Aisling's babies."

"But I'm a mate," Cyrene protested as May forced her out of the room. "This is a mates' meeting. I should be here."

The door closed on May's soft murmurs, leaving the room highly charged.

"Wow," Jim said, snuffling Kostya's legs until the dragon narrowed his eyes. "Never thought she'd have the balls to try to sweet-talk her way back into your good graces. You're not going to take her back, are you? 'Cause if you are, I'm going to want to have a video camera handy to film it. It isn't often you see a wyvern emasculate himself over a chick."

"Aisling," Kostya growled in warning.

"Jim, silence. Don't you give me that look—you know better than to say things like that, especially to Kostya. Although…" She glanced up at Drake. "Although I do admit to wondering if you're intending on taking her back, Kostya. Not that it's any of our business, but…er…I wondered."

"As did I," I said, noting that Kostya looked as if he wanted to set fire to something. Or more likely, someone.

To my surprise, he shot an unreadable look at me. "Why do you care? You aren't going to try to make me believe you have any fondness for me, too, are you?"

It took me a moment to find the words. "I have always been fond of you, Kostya, right up to the point where you killed Baltic, and then, obviously, I had a change of heart. But lately, I've been reminded that you weren't entirely bad, although I could do without your breaking Baltic's nose all over the place."

"Twice. I've broken it twice in the last few months, and he broke mine as many times, so we're even," Kostya protested, rubbing his nose. He stopped and squinted at me. "You want something from me, don't you? I can tell. I can always tell when a woman wants something."

"Of course I want something. I want my house back."

Kostya took a deep breath. "Dragonwood is mine."

"Baltic built it for me! I designed the gardens!"

"It belongs to the black wyvern, and thus it's mine now," Kostya argued. "Unless you have something of equal value you wish to exchange for it?"

"I have money. Well, Baltic does," I said slowly, knowing full well that all of Baltic's resources were being funneled into the rebuilding of Dauva. Although it went against the grain to buy what truly belonged to me, perhaps Kostya could be tempted into an arrangement. "How much were you thinking of?"

"I would not sell Dragonwood for mere money," Kostya scoffed. "You have nothing else of value to offer?"

"Me, personally? I have my love token." I touched the chain around my neck, the small oval of silver that hung from it tucked warmly between my breasts. "But its value is sentimental rather than material."

"I wouldn't take the love token that Baltic made for you," he said, outrage flitting through his eyes before he added with a grin, "He almost severed his fingers engraving it."

"He told me it was the hardest thing he'd ever done because he doesn't have a single artistic bone in his body," I said, sharing a remembered moment with Kostya, my smile matching his. "He was so proud of it, though."

The smile faded from Kostya's face. "You have nothing with which to bargain, then? So be it." He held up a dismissive hand when I opened my mouth to protest his cavalier manner. "I have relinquished my rightful claim on Dauva; that is as far as I will bend, Ysolde. The matter is settled, as is the situation with Cyrene. I have called next week's sárkány for the purpose of rescinding my statement regarding her, so after that time, she will have no formal standing either in my sept or the weyr."

"Kostya, you know how much that house means to me—" I started to say, getting to my feet, intending on pleading with him.

He shot Drake a harried look, then made a formal bow to both Aisling and me. "I will see you later, Aisling. Good day, Ysolde."

I bit my lip as he strode off, damning him for being so obstinate. "Next time maybe I'll save Baltic the trouble of breaking his nose and do it myself."

"It's tempting sometimes, I admit," Aisling said.

Drake shot her a look.

"Sorry, sweetie, but even you have to admit that sometimes when Kostya gets on his high horse, he's impossible to take."

"And yet right is on his side in this," Drake said, taking the glass of dragon's blood wine that Aisling poured for him. "The house does belong to him."

"It does not—" I started to say.

"Now, hang on here," Aisling interrupted, suddenly looking thoughtful as she turned to me. "Ysolde, I think we've had a breakthrough."

"In what way?"

"Who's had a breakthrough?" May asked as she slipped into the room with a muttered apology for her twin's scene.

"Kostya." Aisling eyed me speculatively.

I frowned, confused. "I don't see how."

"He offered to trade Dragonwood for something. He's never done that before, has he?"

"No," I said slowly, thinking that point over. "He's always been adamant that the house belongs to the black dragons, and as he's the wyvern, it does. You know, I think you're right, Aisling. I think this may well be the breakthrough I've been looking for."

"Yes, but now you need something to trade for it. I don't suppose Baltic would give up Dauva?"

I sighed. "The only things that stand higher than Dauva in Baltic's affections are Brom, Pavel, and me. So no, trading Dauva for Dragonwood is out of the question. I need something else, something of great value that he would want. Hmm."

"I'd offer you the dragon shard that chose our sept, but…well, I'm not sure that's kosher, so to speak," May said. "Not to mention that Gabriel wouldn't let the shard go."

"No, I wouldn't take your shard," I said, smiling at May. The fact that she, too, had once borne the same shard of the dragon heart, most important relic of all dragonkin, that I had borne so many centuries ago, made me feel especially comfortable around May, as if we were old, old friends. "I can only imagine what the First Dragon would have to say about the idea of us using the shards to buy something so esoteric as a house."

"Jim, will you stop it?" Aisling frowned at the big black demon as it rubbed its nose on her hand. "If you need to go walkies, you are excused."

"Baltic doesn't have any big stacks of gold lying around his lair?" May asked, looking as thoughtful as Aisling did. "Not that I'm trying to pry, but you know how dragons are about gold—I'd think that even Kostya could be swayed by it."

I glanced at Drake, who was watching Aisling with a glint in his eyes that hinted he'd rather be alone with her. "Er…that's pretty much earmarked for Dauva, I'm afraid."

"No valuable—Jim, so help me, if you wipe your nose on me one more time—no valuable, oh, what do you call them, dragonny things?"

"Dragonny things?" Drake asked her.

"You know, the valuable things. Relics and that sort of stuff. Jim! That's it! I am sick and tired of you. You can speak again, so go tell Suzanne you need to go for a walk."

"I don't have any relics, and Kostya cleaned out Baltic's lair before we got to it, so I'm afraid anything that was stashed away is long gone," I said sadly, my heart breaking when I thought of my beloved Dragonwood being inhabited by strange dragons.

"Man, Ash, I'm never going to be on your team for charades," Jim said with an injured sniff. "I wasn't doing the pee-pee dance, I was doing the ‘I have something important to say but you keep ordering me to silence because you're all bossy now that you have spawn to push around' nose bumps."

"What important thing do you have to say?" she asked, wiping her hand on the napkin. "And it had better be very important."

"It's just a way to help Soldy, that's all. Just a way for her to get back that house she loves so much, the one that acts as vision central for her," the demon answered blithely, sitting down and staring at the two remaining pieces of flatbread.

"What is that?" I asked the demon.

It cocked an eyebrow at the food.

I picked up the flatbread. "If your idea of something important is one of your usual, ridiculous ideas, Jim—"

"It's not! I promise, it's great," it answered, a thin line of slobber creeping out of its furry flews.

"Oh, for the love of Pete. Where's your drool cloth? Not on Drake's nice carpet!" Aisling whipped a napkin around the dog's neck, mopping up its wet mouth before nodding to me. "Go ahead and give it to Jim, Ysolde, but that's your treat for the day."

I gave the dog the piece of flatbread. "And your idea?"

Jim gulped down the appetizer, licking its lips loudly. "Yum. That ham makes the whole thing."

"Jim," I said warningly.

"OK, OK, no need to look like you're going to turn me into a human again," it said, quickly backing up until it was pressed against Aisling. "That was sheer and utter hell being out of my magnificent form. My idea is this: you need something to barter with, right?"

"Yeees," I said slowly, suspicious despite my interest.

"Something fabulous like that thing that May stole from Kostich."

I looked at May in surprise. "You stole something valuable from Dr. Kostich?"

"Magoth—he's the demon lord I used to be bound to—had me steal a minor object," she said with a wry smile. "But I ended up taking a quintessence. For a day. I returned it the next day once I realized what it was."

I goggled at her. "You stole a quintessence? Those are so valuable that they're literally priceless."

"Yes, I know," May said calmly, a little smile on the corners of her mouth. "Kostich set the thief-takers after me for it. That's how I met Savian Bartholomew."

"I may have been Dr. Kostich's apprentice for a long time, but there's no way he'd give me so much as the time of day, let alone something impossibly valuable like a quintessence," I protested.

"I didn't say you should give Kostya that—I just mean that you need something like it, something über-valuable," Jim corrected me.

"How am I supposed to get something über-valuable? Hmm…Savian…I wonder if he could be of help…."

"He is a tracker," May said doubtfully. "But I always assumed that meant tracking people or beings or things like that, not so much locating valuable items."

Aisling started laughing so hard, she had to clutch a napkin and mop at her eyes.

"Mate?" Drake asked, frowning at her. "Are you unwell?"

"No, I'm fine," she wheezed, dabbing one last time at her eyes. "It just struck me as funny, that's all."

"What struck you as funny?" I asked, sharing a look of confusion with May.

"Oooh," Jim said, then it, too, snickered. "Good one, Ash."

Drake's eyes were narrowed on her until suddenly he sat back, his expression unreadable, but his eyes glittering with interest.

"I definitely feel like I'm not sitting with the cool kids," I told May.

"I'm right there with you." She turned back to Aisling. "What do all three of you—wait a minute, you're not thinking what I think you're thinking, are you? Wow, that might…hmm."

"Great, now I'm it and all by myself." I sighed. "Would someone take pity on the poor, resurrected woman who clearly has missed something of great importance?"

"I'm sorry, Ysolde, I didn't mean to make you feel like a pariah. I was just laughing because…Well, it's kind of ironic, really. What I was thinking is that you don't need Savian Bartholomew," Aisling told me. "You need a thief. A really good thief. A master thief, the kind who knows not only where all the über-valuable things are, but how to get to them, and has the ability to do so."

I glanced at May, who shook her head. "My thieving days are over, thank the gods."

"You probably don't remember this, but the green dragons are noted thieves." Aisling patted Drake's leg, pride obvious in her voice. "And there are none better than the wyvern himself."

Drake pursed his lips, idly rubbing his chin. "It is tempting, I admit. I haven't had opportunity to… liberate …anything in some time. What did you have in mind, kincsem ?"

"I don't know who has all the goodies that might tempt Kostya, although part of me says it would be a blast to grab something from Dr. Kostich. Still, he'd probably know it was us and make our lives hell, and I can't do that to all the green dragons. We need something that can't be traced back to us."

"I'm not really comfortable with the idea of stealing something," I said reluctantly. "I don't think I could be happy with the house knowing it came at the price of theft. But I appreciate the thought."

"Maybe if it was something taken from someone bad?" Aisling suggested. "Like a demon lord? Or maybe something that was taken from you, and was really yours to begin with?"

"The only things that were taken from us were taken by Kostya, and much as I would be happy for Drake to try to steal Dragonwood back, I think it would be beyond even his skills."

Drake rubbed his chin again, his eyes speculative before he sighed and shook his head. "No, it would be beyond me, despite its being a tempting target. Kostya would not be pleased, either, and although Aisling would not hesitate at enraging him, he is my brother, and I would have peace in the weyr."

"I suppose that would be the best," Aisling said with a slump of her shoulders. "There's got to be something, Ysolde."

The door opened at that moment, allowing the tall, elegant man with short dreadlocks, bright grey eyes, and lovely warm brown skin to stroll in. He made a beeline for May, stopping next to her to stroke her short black hair, saying as he did so, "Good afternoon, Aisling, Ysolde. Greetings, Drake. What is it Ysolde is searching for?"

"Heya, Gabe," Jim said, sauntering over to snuffle him. "Still wyvern, huh? That ghost not challenged you for the sept yet?"

Gabriel Tauhou, wyvern of the silver dragon sept, stiffened for a moment, ire flashing in his eyes. "Not for lack of trying." He turned to me, adding, "Has Mayling spoken to you about Constantine?"

"Not yet," May said, moving over to sit on the couch, Gabriel at her side. "I was…er…saving that for later. Along with the other thing."

"Is Constantine still being impossible?" I asked. Weariness swept over me. "I ran into him earlier today and told him again that he isn't getting your sept, but you know how he is."

"Oh, we know. He hasn't left Gabriel's side for more than an hour or two," May said, leaning into her wyvern.

"I had to sneak out the back of the house in order to escape without him on my heels," Gabriel said, looking extremely martyred.

"We've tried to explain nicely that we have nothing but the utmost respect for him since he founded the sept, and that we'd be happy to have him visit, and that he's even welcome to offer advice—"

Gabriel made a choking sound.

"But he keeps insisting that Gabriel stand down and let him take his rightful place as wyvern. He doesn't seem to understand that he's a ghost. The only time we get any relief is when he runs out of energy and has to go into an incorporeal state to recharge his batteries."

Gabriel slid his arm around May. "My guards had taken to challenging him to sword fights in order to facilitate that event, but after a few weeks of that, he caught on to us, and now simply haunts me every chance he gets, attempting to formally challenge me for the sept. I refuse to accept the challenges, of course, citing the fact that he's not living as my excuse, but it is growing exceedingly tiresome. I wish you would take him back, Ysolde."

"I think Baltic would kill me himself if I did that," I said with a sympathetic look. "I'm very sorry, though, Gabriel. Perhaps if someone else was to talk to him…"

"You're the only one he talks about," May answered. "If you could try reasoning with him again, we'd be very grateful."

"I can try, but I'm not sure he'll listen to me any more than to you. He hasn't thus far. But I'll bring it up with him again. Baltic and I owe you so much, it's the least I can do."

"About that," Gabriel said smoothly, his brows rising slightly in question. "Have you approached Baltic about the curse?"

My shoulders slumped as the weariness swamped me. I struggled to keep my head above it, rising from the table and moving over to the fireplace. "Two weeks ago, as a matter of fact. He's remaining steadfast that there's no compelling reason for him to lift the curse from you guys. I keep telling him that the whole reason behind the curse is moot now that we know Constantine didn't kill me, but he just says it's as good a reason as any, and ignores my attempts to make him understand how it's hurting all of you."

Gabriel's jaw tightened as May put her hand on his, obviously reminding him of his manners. I felt bad watching him struggle to keep from lashing out, knowing just how much the silver dragons wanted Baltic's dramatic curse removed, made at the time of my death, and dooming them all to never having a mate born until a black dragon ruled the sept.

"What I need is some leverage I can use against him," I said, desperately wracking my brain for something, anything I could use to force Baltic into lifting the curse. "Something that he wants so badly, he's willing to give up his long-nursed grudge for it. Something…"

The image of an object came to my mind at that moment, a bright, shining object that glowed with white-blue light, something that was indeed so valuable, its reclamation could well force Baltic into a position where he had to lift the curse.

"You've thought of something," May said, her expression going from despair to hopeful in a second.

"Yes," I said slowly, turning to look thoughtfully at Drake.

"Something über-valuable for Drake to steal?" Aisling said, leaping to her feet, excitement visible in her expression. "Something that you can use to get back Dragonwood? Or to use against Baltic?"

I was about to explain when Aisling's words struck me. "Oh. Dragonwood. Yes, it would be valuable enough that Kostya would probably give Dragonwood up for it. But…" I glanced over at Gabriel and May, my heart aching. There was no choice to be made, however. Despite the fact that my very soul cried out for Dragonwood, I could never live there knowing I could have saved the silver dragons instead. "No, that would never do. It will have to go to you, Gabriel. Then you can use it to force Baltic to lift the curse."

"I thought you said you wouldn't be happy if Drake stole something for you. Was that just for Dragonwood?" Aisling asked, moving over to stand with me. "Not that I think you're wrong, because I'd totally steal something in order to save the silver dragons. And I know that Drake is dying to have a go at something really difficult—you wouldn't believe how happy the thought of a little thievery makes him—but if it's going to cause problems with you, then we won't do it."

"What is this object that has so much power over Baltic?" Gabriel asked, frowning as his thumb rubbed over May's fingers. "He has Dauva, does he not? He has you….I don't know what else there is that could hold sway over him."

The mention of Dauva triggered a memory of a month ago, when Baltic had discovered that Thala, his lieutenant, had stolen a very valuable personal artifact from a hidden lair deep in the bowels of the remains of Dauva. "There are two things, actually," I said, carefully picking my words. Baltic hadn't mentioned the loss of his talisman, the item that marked him as a child of the First Dragon, to anyone, not even Pavel. "One is something of which I have little knowledge, and thus wouldn't be suitable to our purposes—although Drake, perhaps one day—well, we'll leave that until such time. The other, however, is something that rightfully belongs to Baltic, and was taken from him by a very unscrupulous method. And yes, it has enough value to him that it might just do the trick."

Gabriel suddenly sat up straight, rubbing at his shoulder. "The sword? The one that Kostich took from him?"

I nodded. "Dr. Kostich blackmailed him to get it, using me as bait, the rotter, and later hid it away in some secret, unreachable, impossible-to-access stash of the L'au-dela." I smiled as everyone in the room sucked in a collective breath. "I think it's time to liberate Antonia von Endres' light blade, Drake."