Chapter Seven

The sensation of being consumed by nothingness ebbed away to leave us standing in the exact same positions, but instead of a dim, cold shack, we were once again in a room lit now by the rosy golden glow of a sunny Spanish morning.

"Thala won't be pleased?" I asked Gareth as awareness returned to me. "What does she have to do with the price of tea in China?"

"The price of what?" he asked, looking more irritated than usual.

"It's an expression. Why would Thala care if you and Ruth took me in after I was—" I sucked in a huge amount of oxygen as realization struck me. "She's the one who killed me, isn't she?"

For a moment, I could swear I saw fear flicker in his eyes, but that emotion was soon replaced with familiar belligerence. "I don't know anything about who killed you, and I don't give a damn who did the job. All I care about is getting what's owed to me, and your high-and-mighty dragon had better get his dread wyvern ass in gear and come up with the gold, or he's going to be missing his bit of tail. And I don't mean the one in his dragon form."

I glared at him, wanting to say so many things, but determined to keep as much of it from Brom as was possible. "So what happened after you brainwashed me outside of Dauva? You took me to Paris?"

"How long does it take to get a few guards?" Gareth grumbled to himself as he peered out through the open door toward the stairs. "I could have gone to Seville and back by the time she stirs her stumps. What? Yes, we took you to Paris, fat lot of good that it did us. It turned out that anyone we could have ransomed you to was dead, so we were stuck with you. Ruth was ready to drop you in the Seine, but then you went into one of your funks and started manifesting gold, and we knew we were set for the rest of our lives."

"The fugues," I said, rubbing my forehead before glancing back at Brom. He had gotten dressed, and was sitting on the edge of his bed, watching with silent interest. "They started all the way back then?"

"Why else do you think we'd keep you around?" Gareth answered with another of his unpleasant smiles. "Every six months you'd drop to the floor and go to sleep for a few weeks, changing lead to gold in the process. Everything was fine until you decided you wanted to have a husband and a kid."

I straightened up, ready to leap on him if he said anything unkind toward Brom, and since I didn't want him to pursue that line of thought, I said with a nonchalance I knew would goad him, "It seems to me, then, that I've more than paid you for supporting me, and later Brom. This particular goose will not be laying any more golden eggs."

"How do you know?" He looked me up and down. "You didn't manifest during your last fugue, when you were with the silver dragons, but that was because they didn't put lead in the room with you, right?"

"No, they didn't, but that doesn't mean anything. The dragon inside me is waking up, Gareth. Slowly, but it's waking up. And that means that whatever weird circumstance that caused me to alchemize gold is no longer there."

"You don't know that. In another few months, we'll know, but until then, we want what's due us." He cocked his head to listen. "Finally. Where the hell have you been, Ruth? It's not enough that Sullivan has to make me get up at this ungodly hour, now you're dragging your feet and keeping me from going back to—what are you doing here?"

"I've been asking myself that for weeks, now," a female voice answered, and to my utter surprise, a buxom woman, who was a little bit taller than me appeared in the doorway.

"Maura?" I said, a little spurt of anger following the word. "I imagined you'd be in Nepal with your boss. If you've come here to kidnap or shoot us again like you did in Latvia—"

She raised her hands in a gesture of peace. "I wouldn't dream of doing either, and even if I wanted to—and I assure you I've learned my lesson when it comes to shooting anyone—I couldn't."

"Why?" I asked, my curiosity (as always) getting the better of me.

A man answered. "Because I wouldn't let her."

"Who the hell are you?" Gareth demanded to know as Savian loomed up behind him, a gun in his hand. Before he could answer, Gareth narrowed his beady-eyed gaze on me and added, "Just how many people did you bring with you?"

I reached behind me for Brom, pulling him tight against my side. "As many as it takes to ensure my son is safe."

"Sullivan!" Brom protested, his face filled with embarrassment.

I loosened my hold on him a little, watching Maura carefully.

"Hullo," she said to Brom.

"Hi," he responded, giving her a thorough once-over. "You shot Baltic?"

"My men did, but I didn't mean for them to do so."

I glared at her.

She coughed and looked away. "It was all very unfortunate. I was extremely upset about everything, and still regret that things turned out the way they did."

"How did things turn out?" Brom asked.

"It's not important," I said, transferring my glare from the untrustworthy Maura to Gareth, who was sidling around her to get out of Savian's line of sight. "What is important is what on earth you're doing here. Or, wait, are you still doing Thala's dirty work? Or are you now out for hire, and Gareth has hired you to help him kidnap an innocent child?"

"I do not kidnap children," she said, straightening her shoulders, giving her long brown hair an annoyed flick over her shoulder. "Dragons do not war against children. Everyone knows that."

"Gareth doesn't," I said somewhat acidly. "Where's Baltic?"

"At the foot of the tower, beating back a handful of dragons who showed up with a woman. Where are the others?" Savian asked.

"Baltic?" Gareth ran toward the door. "God damn it, Sullivan, you brought that wyvern here? He's just supposed to bring gold, not come into the fortress himself!"

I listened as hard as I could but didn't hear any sounds of fighting. Nonetheless, I was worried. Baltic was perfectly capable of handling a few dragons on his own, but I didn't want him hurt. "Of course Baltic came with me; he loves Brom. Nico and Holland are upstairs one floor, Savian. Can you let them out? Baltic probably doesn't need any help taking down whatever dragons Ruth found, but I'd hate for him to get carried away and kill them rather than just disable them."

Gareth's eyes widened with panic.

"Here, you take this, and keep her highness covered," Savian said, handing the gun to me after gesturing with it toward Maura.

"Why? I admit there're a few things I'd like to say to her about her actions of the past, and more important, about how her family is worried sick over her, but really, I don't think we need her."

"We do," Savian said, pushing Maura farther into the room. "She knows the secret way out."

"Which, if you will recall, Bart, or whatever your name is, I offered to show to you, so you can stop treating me like a prisoner."

"The name is Savian Bartholomew, and you're definitely a prisoner. Don't let her get away, Ysolde."

"You're making it very difficult for me to do what's right, you know!" Maura yelled after him as he left the room and ran up the stairs to the floor above.

"You offered to help us?" I asked Maura. "Why? You're Thala's second-in-command. And before you say anything, I should mention that the last time I spoke with your mother, she was very concerned about your being so involved with this outlaw tribe that you tried to kidnap me a few months ago, not to mention all the other nefarious things you've done."

"Yes, because I'm so very much the queen of nefarious," Maura said, looking strangely drawn. "I offered to help your wyvern when he jumped me outside because I do not happen to agree with using children in this manner. And yes, I was Thala's lieutenant, but—"

A sudden explosion outside gave us all a moment of pause.

"That sounded like an arcane compression blast," I said thoughtfully. "One of your tribe must have pissed off Baltic enough that he's using magic."

"Right, that's it. I've had enough of you and your insanity," Gareth said, shoving Maura hard into me, sending us backward until we tripped over a wooden chair and went down in a tumble of arms and legs. "You still owe me gold, Sullivan! I expect it to be delivered."

"By the rood, get off me—thank you. Brom?" I struggled out from under Maura, worried sick for a moment that Gareth had grabbed Brom as he escaped, but luck was once again with me.

"I'm here. You OK?" he asked when I got to my feet and limped hurriedly to the door, rubbing my shin as I did so.

"I'm fine, but your father has escaped, dammit. I hope he runs smack-dab into Baltic."

"I'm fine, too, not that anyone asked," Maura said as she got to her feet. "You dropped your gun, Ysolde."

I took it when she held it out to me, thanking her. "I do appreciate your offering to help us get Brom out, even if it seems otherwise. In fact, it more than makes up for shooting Baltic and trying to kidnap us, so I suppose really, we're even on that score."

"I truly am sorry about all of that," she said, wringing her hands. "At the time, it seemed like the wisest thing to do, but I see now that what we were told about you was all wrong."

"Who told you—" I started to ask, but stopped when Nico, Savian, and Holland thundered down the stairs.

"Brom! You're all right?" Nico asked, coming forward to clap his hand on Brom's shoulder, their approved method of showing affection.

"Of course. I'm not a baby," Brom said with a scathing look.

"You're far from that," Nico agreed. "I'm proud of you for not being frightened by the situation. I know you must have been worried."

Brom shrugged. "I knew Baltic wouldn't let Gareth and the dragons do anything to me. Is Baltic going to beat up Gareth? Do we get to watch when he does?"

"Our first priority is going to be to get you to safety, my bloodthirsty child," I said.

"Baltic says I get that from you. He says you're the most bloodthirsty person he ever met," Brom said with a rare grin.

"He is utterly and completely wrong." I was unable to keep from hugging him just one more time, ignoring his protest. "I haven't a violent bone in my body. Now, someone needs to go help Baltic."

"Holland and I will go," Nico said as he moved toward the door. "The thief-taker will stay to protect you and the other dragon."

"My cup runneth over with joy," Maura said somewhat acidly.

Savian gave her a sour look. "I'm not thrilled with the job, either, princess, but it's what I get paid to do."

"Mercenary and violent—what a charming personality you have," Maura answered, looking at her fingernails with apparent fascination.

"Better than traitorous and trigger-happy," Savian snapped back, glowering at her.

"I didn't shoot Baltic, you horrible man; the dragons who were with me shot him!"

I ignored them both, bit my lip, and glanced at Brom. Now that I knew he was safe, I itched to help Baltic, sure that my presence would have a steadying influence on him, not to mention I might be able to avert potential disaster with my own—admittedly sometimes wonky—magic abilities. "Savian, I think you should stay here to protect Brom. And keep an eye on Maura, of course."

Savian, in the middle of responding to yet another of Maura's insults, frowned at me. "I don't think Baltic would like you in the midst of any sort of battle, Ysolde."

"Nonetheless, it's where I'm going. Brom, I want you to stay with Savian, no matter what, all right?"

He started to shrug off my hands on his shoulders, but stopped when he got a good look at my face. "All right. But I'm not helpless, you know. I can make stink bombs. I read about it in the chemistry book I found downstairs." He gestured toward the dusty and worn Spanish textbook that sat on the edge of his bed. "Those would be useful."

"Of course they would, and if you have anything lying around up here to make them, then you have my full approval to do so, and drop them out the window at any of Maura's tribe you see."

"They're not my tribe in the sense you mean," she corrected. "I don't lead them. I never did. I was just in charge of a small espionage team, one of whom you evidently turned into a rock, and the other two of whom abandoned me the moment your wyvern got pissed, so really, calling them my tribe is completely incorrect."

"Espionage," Savian said with a disbelieving snort.

Her nostrils flared at him. "I happen to be quite good at it, just as I am quite good at escaping tight situations."

"Really?" He looked thoughtful for a moment, then whisked out a pair of handcuffs, and before Maura could do so much as squawk, slapped one over her wrist, and the other on his own. "There. That will ensure that you don't escape before Ysolde is through with you."

"What the—you can't do this to me!" Maura wailed, struggling to get free from the handcuffs.

"I just did," he answered with grim finality.

"Ysolde!" Maura appealed to me. "This is intolerable! Make him take them off. He can't do this to me! I have things I must do, and I can't do them tied up to this self-aggrandized, puffed-up policeman!"

"Puffed-up policeman!" Savian was clearly outraged. "I'll have you know I've received three commendations from Dr. Kostich himself for my work with the L'au-dela. Three commendations!"

"Bully for you. And while we're on the subject of bullies—"

"Can we argue about this later?" I interrupted, heading for the door. "Savian, you should probably take off the handcuffs."

"I will. Later," he said with a dark look toward Maura.

She growled at him.

"Brom, stay with Savian. Savian, I expect you to protect him with your life."

"Of course," Savian answered, and I read absolute sincerity in his face.

"Oh, this is just what I need," Maura said, sighing. "For the last time, will you let me go?"

"Not until Baltic says we're done with you. You're just going to have to stay with me while I protect Brom and Ysolde."

"I don't mind helping with that. I like them . Ysolde, I will be happy to protect your son, too," Maura said, an annoyed expression on her face as she glared at Savian, jerking the arm connected to his. "I did, after all, go against everyone here to offer to show you where the bolt-hole is hidden, so that you could take him out without anyone being hurt."

"And I appreciate your help. We'll talk later about your mother and grandfather and everything," I told her, and giving Brom a steely look that warned him what would happen should he disobey me, I hurried down the stairs toward the ground floor.

I burst out of the building, braced and fully expecting to find Baltic, Nico, and Holland in full battle with the ouroboros dragons, but I saw…nothing.

"Well, this is anticlimactic," I said aloud, looking at a whole lot of empty courtyard. To my left was a smaller tower, while behind me was the tower I'd just left. To my right, the silhouette of the partial remains of a third tower lurched drunkenly against the pinkish orange morning sky. Behind the semicircle made up of the three towers were two small stone outbuildings, the entire area composed of towers and buildings surrounded by the tall stone inner bailey wall.

The air was crisp and cold, and smelled fresh despite the reddish brown dust that lay thickly over everything in sight. The faintest whiff of pine drifted down from the alpine trees that grew on the slopes behind the fortress complex, making me think of clean mountain streams and brisk hikes into the forest. Birdsong rose thinly overhead, peppered occasionally by the cry from a hawk no doubt out hunting for his breakfast.

A scream of absolute rage had me moving before I was aware of it, pelting down a beaten track in the red dirt toward the main gate we'd been escorted through by the ouroboros guards. The gate, an anachronism of metal plate, was closed. It hadn't been when we arrived, which meant someone had closed it. Baltic? Gareth? One of the ouroboros dragons? I hesitated for a moment, unsure if I should open it to allow an easy exit, or leave it closed. Another scream from beyond the gate had me running for it, twisting hard at the intricate sliding lock, and pulling with all my strength to open it up.

A wave of brown beings, approximately four feet in height, with garish clothing and long, thin fingers, washed up the road, a few of the little beings darting out to grab an unwary hare or other small furry animal.

"Negret!" I swore under my breath, and, with superhuman strength, slammed shut the door and jammed home the lock. "Negret!" I yelled, spinning on my heel and running back toward the tower where Brom was located.

At that same moment, a familiar voice bellowed, "Ysolde!"

"Negrets are at the gate!" I bolted into the tower and ran straight into a large, hard object that I grabbed with both hands to keep from falling. "Baltic, negrets!"

"I know; we saw them." He frowned down at me. "What are you doing inside the fortress? You were supposed to remain outside, drawing away the guards. I was to locate our son."

"It's not a contest," I said, annoyed by his attitude enough to leave my main concern for a few seconds.

"No, but if we make a plan, we should all follow it." He pulled me after him as he exited the tower, Brom immediately behind us. "You must take Brom and escape, mate. I will keep the attention of the attackers until you are well away from the area."

"Are you crazy?" I shook him as best I could, which wasn't easy because he was built like the steel gate out front. "I'm not leaving you here with those little monsters! They're vicious, and cruel, and have an appalling fashion sense."

Savian, Maura, and Holland gathered around us as I tried to reason with Baltic, but he was adamant.

"The half dragon knows of the location of the bolt-hole," he said, nodding toward Maura. "You will take Brom, and go with Savian and her. We will stay here and draw the attention of all the others."

"I have a name, you know," Maura said. "It's only two syllables, and not that difficult to remember."

"Others? What others? More ouroboros dragons?" Suddenly remembering he'd been battling them, I checked him quickly for injuries. Fortunately, he had none.

"No, we destroyed or chased off those who were left." His voice was rich with satisfaction, and I had a startling memory of just how annoyed I used to be over his love for the opportunity to battle. It didn't matter who was his opponent; he just loved to fight.

"You're enjoying this, aren't you?" I said, poking my finger into his chest. "Don't you deny it! I can see how much fun you're having. You always loved to fight with people! I used to beg you not to, but you were never happier than when someone you could beat up wandered near Dauva. You're incorrigible, do you know that? I bet you even found a sword to use while you dealt with the ouroboros dragons, didn't you?"

"Where would I find a sword?" he asked, his voice suddenly persuasive as he held up his hands to show they were empty. " Chérie , you are overset. You must calm yourself and lead our son to safety while I distract the attackers."

"Baltic, you left your sword upstairs," Pavel said somewhat breathlessly as he thumped down the stairs, two swords in his hands. "You will want it, yes?"

I glared at the love of my multiple lives.

"Two of the ouroboros had them," Baltic said, not meeting my eye. "Go with the half dragon, mate."

"My name is Maura. Maura Lo. You can even call me Mo if you like, although no one but my mother calls me that."

"Mo Lo?" Savian asked, his lips twitching.

"You do, and I'll deck you," she said, shaking a fist at him and jerking her handcuffed arm again.

I poked Baltic a second time. "If you think I'm going to leave you here to face at least a hundred negrets armed with nothing but a sword, you can think again."

A metallic clang sounded from the gate. Baltic shoved Brom and me toward Maura, before he snatched the sword from Pavel, and raced toward the gate. "Go!" he yelled over his shoulder as he shifted into dragon form, the rosy morning light burnishing the white scales that covered his body.

I didn't argue. I wanted to stay and help him, but he was right—I had to get Brom to safety first. I took Brom's hand and ran after Maura and Savian.

"This way," Maura cried as they dashed around the side of the tower. "The bolt-hole is in the chapel's crypt."

Out of nowhere, two blue dragons in their respective dragon forms burst from the chapel, snarling various obscenities.

Maura yelled something at them when one of them raised a gun toward us. The dragon hesitated, which was his undoing. Before he could blink, Savian and Maura were on them, Savian handily disarming the gun-toting dragon, before knocking him senseless with a swift move that had me more than a little envious. Maura, naturally, had to move with Savian, but she took me by surprise when she leaped on the second dragon, somewhat hampered by being tethered to Savian. Her surprise attack took the second dragon off guard enough that before he could do more than slash through the air with his tail and splash a little dragon fire around, he was on the ground, bleeding and unconscious, but alive.

"That felt good," Maura said, sucking her knuckles after grinning at Savian.

"Friends of yours?" he asked with an answering grin.

"Hardly. This way."

We ducked to avoid the low lintel of the chapel, the cool, musty air inside making my nose wrinkle with the need to sneeze.

"The crypt isn't big—really, I think it was just put there simply to disguise the secret exit—but finding the right bit of stone to push can be tricky if you don't know the pattern."

The chapel was obviously not used much by Thala's dragons; it was full of rubble, with bits of broken masonry, antique painted statues of various saints, and carved reliefs piled up on one side. Two arched windows let in some of the morning light, but it had a hard time fighting its way through the general air of abandonment.

"There," Maura said, climbing over a stone altar and pointing. We scrambled after her, peering down at stairs cut into the stone that faded into blackness. "Watch your step—some of the stairs are broken."

"I'll go first," Savian said, pulling out a penlight from an inner pocket. "Ysolde?"

"Right behind you." I pushed Brom in front of me, my hands on his shoulders as he followed Savian and Maura. Before taking a step into the black maw of the crypt, I glanced over my shoulder, but the two dragons were still flaked out on the ground. "Careful of the steps, lovey."

Brom made a noise of profound disgust and disappeared into the darkness. I followed, clutching the rough stone wall as I picked my way down the uneven steps. A few of them were partially crumbled into nothing, but after a few tense minutes, we were all on the floor of the crypt.

"There are four tombs down here." Maura's voice echoed eerily in the darkness. "The first three are genuine. The fourth one isn't. To the left, Bart."

"Bartholomew. As in Savian Bartholomew, Mo Lo."

I could hear Maura sigh even from the foot of the stairs. "I'm so going to regret ever opening my mouth," she muttered before stopping in front of a large stone tomb.

Savian flicked his light over it, casting into faint relief markings typical of Romanesque design, mostly battle scenes, but some domestic carvings as well, including one of three men involved in an act that looked quite inappropriate for a chapel. "This dog here, this is the first piece. Press the stone and you should feel it click. Then over to the north side, do the same to the snake that's about to seduce Eve. The third is the knights fighting—you press the charger's rear flank. And last, you go back to the stone dog and press it again."

As she suited action to word, the stone gave a loud click. Maura leaned down and shoved, the entire top half of the tomb grinding to the side to reveal a short drop down to an earth and stone passage.

"Cool!" Brom said, peering down into the tunnel.

"Voilà, the bolt-hole. Take the right branch in the tunnel, and it will lead you to an exit about half a mile below the castillo . You can't miss it. Now, unlock this damned thing so I can go do what I have to do." Maura held out her arm to Savian.

"We certainly won't miss the turn, because you're coming with us," Savian said grimly, pulling her after him as he entered the tunnel.

"No! I said I'd help you get the boy out, and I've done that. But I can't leave! Thala will—"

"I really don't give a damn what Thala thinks," I said, swearing to myself as I stumbled over a root, stubbing my toe in the process. I grasped the back of Brom's T-shirt, feeling blinder than blind as we crept along the tunnel.

"You don't understand! I can't leave—" Maura's protest came to an abrupt halt when Savian, with a muttered oath, leaned down and flung her over his shoulder.

The next ten minutes were fraught with irritation, mostly due to Maura's complaining loudly about Savian's actions, antecedents, and at one point, the fact that he was holding her leg in a manner he should be ashamed of in front of a small child.

"Really," I told Savian when he at last set her on her feet, sputtering threats and vague promises of death and destruction, "I think she has a point about the handcuffs. She's done what we asked. You can let her go."

"Just as soon as I know you're safe," he answered, patting his pocket, a slightly panicked look coming across his face. I pushed past him, shoved aside the overgrowth of aptenio, a persistent ground covering plant found everywhere in this part of Spain, and emerged into the full morning sun.

A small clutch of four negrets that were ripping something furry to shreds looked up, staring in surprise at me, blood and bits of fur smeared across their mouths. Beyond them, the hillside was covered with small figures, slowly making their way up the slopes to the fortress.

"Holy—" I spun around and shoved Savian and Maura back into the tunnel, yelling at the same time, "Get back to the crypt! We've got to close it off! Brom, run!"

Gareth may have been Brom's biological father, but, luckily, my genes appeared to be stronger in him, at least so far as his intelligence went. He didn't say a word; he just turned on his heel and ran. Savian stopped muttering to himself, took one look at the pack of negrets ripping through the aptenio to get to us, and, grasping Maura's hand, ran after us.

The negrets caught up just as Savian and Maura were bolting up the stairs. Brom and I were already at the stone tomb, leaning into it, ready to shove it closed just as soon as they cleared the entrance, but even as Maura emerged, she was jerked backward when the negrets flung themselves on Savian with high, piercing cries.

"Candles!" Savian yelled as he struggled to beat them off himself. "They turn to metal when touched by fire!"

"You don't need candles when you have me." Shifting into dragon form, Maura lit up the tunnel with a blast of dragon fire that caught the frozen expressions of four extremely startled negrets before it dissolved into nothing.

Four metallic thumps could be heard, followed shortly by Savian yelling about his clothing being on fire. By the time we got him up the stairs, his head and face were black, his shirt both shredded by the negrets and burned by the dragon fire, and blood was welling across his back and chest where their sharp little claws had struck home.

He helped us heave the stone tomb across the opening, all of us slumping on it when it clicked into place.

"Is there any way to open it from the tunnel?" I asked Maura.

She shook her head and blew on a bit of Savian's hair that was still smoking. "Not that I've ever found, and Thala had us make a comprehensive examination of it."

We looked from the tomb to the stairs to the chapel.

"Which means we're trapped in the castillo ," I said, closing my eyes for a moment and wishing I were a thousand miles away.

Brom's eyes lit up. "Cool! I'll go make some bombs. I wonder if there's any gas around. I heard about this thing called a Moscow cocktail, and I bet I could make some of them, too."

"Molotov cocktail," I corrected him wearily, rubbing my temples where a headache blossomed. It was shaping up to be a very long day.