Me and My Shadow (32 page)

“On the contrary,” he said, gesturing to Tipene, who pulled a chair next to his at the table. He helped me back up to my feet—a gesture I found oddly touching—and took my hand to lead me to the table. “It could be a very clever strategy, given the power she bears.”

“Cy would no more use the dark power against anyone than I would,” I said gently, rubbing his hand against my cheek for a moment. Although the memory of my few minutes spent in the Akasha was fading, a few tendrils of despair still remained, making me infinitely thankful for Gabriel. “Less, really, since she doesn't have a dragon shard trying to make her do all sorts of inciting things.”

He said nothing to that, but I knew he wasn't convinced, nor was he entirely easy with the idea of Cyrene now being given formal status.

As for Kostya, he suffered Cyrene's enthusiastic embrace for a few seconds, then said something in her ear that had her standing at his side in a reasonable facsimile of a person in control of her wild emotions.

The room was cleared of nondragons, with the exception of mates, mate substitutes, and demons in shaggy-dog form. Aisling evidently felt sorry for silencing Jim.

“You can speak, so long as you don't interrupt proceedings,” she told it before she ordered it over to a spot near the wall.

It rolled its eyes as it stomped over to the appointed spot. “You've been taking mean lessons from May, haven't you? Boss, boss, boss, that's all the two of you ever do. Does it occur to either of you to just ask me to do something? Nooo, it's all about pushing innocent little demons around.”

“Did you
want
to see Cecile this weekend?” Aisling asked sweetly.

Jim glared mutely at her, obviously getting the point.

“Who's Cecile?” I asked Gabriel.

His eyes were solemn as he watched Kostya take his seat, get thumped on the back of the shoulder by Cyrene, and leap up to get a chair to place next to his. “An elderly Welsh corgi. She is owned by Aisling's friend in Paris. I do not like it, May.”

“I can take or leave corgis myself, but—”

“No, I mean that I do not like the air of contentment Kostya is wearing. You might not believe he is part of the heinous crimes committed yesterday, but he is up to something.”

“The
sárkány
will begin,” Chuan Ren said loudly, slamming her hand down on the table.

“Ugh. Don't tell me it's her turn to chair?” I asked Maata in a whisper.

She nodded, her face inscrutable. Both she and Tipene stood behind Gabriel. I thought it was interesting that despite there being three—four if you counted Kostya—wyverns with mates, only five chairs had been set around the table—one for each recognized wyvern, and the fifth for Kostya, who assumably would be recognized at this meeting. Each wyvern had to bring an extra chair to the table for his or her mate—the symbolism did not escape me.

“Bring Fiat!” Chuan Ren, never one to expend energy on extra words when a few sharp commands would do, almost yelled the order to Drake.

He merely raised his eyebrows. Aisling narrowed her eyes, and I could see her fingers twitching, as if she was dying to draw a ward.

“I believe the agenda lists the petition by Kostya for recognition,” Drake said calmly.

Chuan Ren gripped the edge of the table until her fingers were white, but she didn't come unglued as I half expected. She merely gave Kostya a piercing look. “Konstantin Fekete, the weyr acknowledges your petition for recognition and reinstatement of the sept of the black dragons. You are familiar with the laws which govern members of the weyr—do you now agree to abide by and uphold those laws?”

Kostya rose, looking at everyone for a long, long moment. “The black dragons have been valued members of the weyr since its inception, and our inclusion within it is long overdue. Although we have had a somewhat troubled history—”

Gabriel stiffened as Kostya shot him a quick glance.

“—we have resolved our differences and are willing to let the ghosts of the past rest easily.”

I wondered if he really would, whether he had realized what a folly it was to try to battle the silver dragons, or whether it was all a horrible deception meant to lull us into a false sense of security. On the whole, I believed he was sincere. He wanted to be back in the weyr just too much to endanger it by pursuing the idiotic idea of reclaiming the silver dragons.

“As wyvern by right of tanistry, heir to the former wyvern Baltic—” He choked just a smidgen on that name, but he recovered nicely. “As heir, I swear upon my life that the black dragon sept will abide by and uphold the laws of the weyr.”

Chuan Ren looked bored and impatient. Barely had Kostya finished his little speech and sat down before she was on her feet, demanding to know, “You have heard the petition for recognition. How say the wyverns?”

“Aye,” Drake said clearly. “The green dragons will welcome the reinstatement of the black dragons to the weyr.”

Aisling smiled at Cyrene, who was positively bouncing in her chair next to Kostya. I frowned at her, but she just grinned back at me, and blew me a kiss.

Chuan Ren's nostrils flared, but she said nothing, just looked pointedly at Bastian.

He cleared his throat and stood, bowing to the table in general before saying, “As the rightful wyvern of the blue dragons, I, too, say aye. We will be delighted to see Kostya and his dragons in the weyr once again.”

“I like him,” Cyrene said to Kostya. I think she meant it to be a whisper, but she was so excited, everyone heard. “He's so much nicer than his nephew.”

Bastian flashed her a quick smile before sitting down.

Chuan Ren took a deep breath, her fingers still tense on the table, as she glanced to Gabriel.

Gabriel watched Kostya closely for a moment, his expression benign, but his eyes blazed. “There is a fact about which the weyr is ignorant that I believe should be taken into consideration.”

“Fact? What fact?” Kostya shot Gabriel an irritated look.

“You were seen in Paris,” Gabriel answered. “Shortly before it was discovered that sixty-eight dragons living in France had been brutally slaughtered.”

Kostya's eyes narrowed. “And you think I had something to do with that?”

“I think it's possible that your relationship with Baltic was not destroyed when he was,” Gabriel said evenly. “I think you conceal your true intentions from us. I think you are capable of killing innocent dragons in the pursuit of whatever goal you feel worthy.”

The look on Kostya's face was telling. Disbelief mingled with anger, followed by a furious look that told me more than mere words that he was outraged by Gabriel's statement. Kostya was innocent of the deaths; of that I was sure. “I had believed the silver dragons still possessed some honor. I see now I was wrong.”

Gabriel stiffened and rose slowly. Maata made a checked movement, as if she was holding herself back.

Drake sighed and shook his head.

“You speak of our honor?” Gabriel asked, his lovely voice hard and brittle.

“I do.” Kostya lifted his chin. “I was in Paris, and thus I must be responsible. That is the way of your thinking, is it not?”

“Do you deny you were in Paris at the time?”

“No.”

The room was silent for a moment as everyone digested that.

“If you were not involved in Fiat's destruction of the blue dragons, what were you doing there?”

A muscle in Kostya's jaw tightened. “You have no right to ask me that. I am not obligated by any law in the weyr to make you privy to my movements, or the reasons behind any action I take.”

The silence grew thick with suspicion and animosity.

“Kostya—” Drake started to say wearily, but his brother cut him off with a gesture.

“Regardless, I will explain my presence in Paris, because I wish to further goodwill between the black and silver septs.”

Maata snorted. I had to admit I didn't quite buy his altruism.

“My men had been watching a house in Paris that we believed Baltic was using. I was alerted that there had been unusual activity, and went to see for myself if it was anything while on my way back from Riga.”

Gabriel waited, his posture relaxed, but I knew better. I could feel the tension thrumming through him.

“There was activity, as my man had reported, but it was Fiat, not Baltic. I had no idea of what Fiat was up to, or I would have stopped him.” His gaze moved to touch on everyone in the room. “I returned to England shortly after verifying that Baltic was not present. I did not hear about the massacres until later.”

I watched Gabriel, feeling the depth of emotion in him, but not sure what he was thinking. Would he believe Kostya? I did. Truth rang out in his voice. He might not be forthcoming with everything, but I did not believe he had participated in the wholesale murder of all those innocent people.

Kostya must have felt Gabriel's unwillingness to accept his explanation, because he made a quick, frustrated gesture and added in a voice rife with irritation, “For Christ's sake, Gabriel—have I harmed anyone since I was released from the aerie? Have I attacked any of the silver dragons? Have I harmed your sept in any way? Whatever else you may think of me, I've never given you grounds to claim I'm a psychopath!”

Gabriel was still silent, obviously weighing Kostya's words.

“Gabriel?” Chuan Ren prodded him with an impatient word. “How say you about the black sept?”

All eyes were on us.

“I accept your explanation,” Gabriel said finally. “And I retract my statement of your guilt in that matter.”

Kostya inclined his head in acknowledgment of the apology. Cyrene beamed at us and hugged his arm.

“Our history with the black dragons is known to all here,” Gabriel said slowly, his voice once again rich and smooth. “It cannot be denied that we have long sought autonomy from them, and yet, they were once our friends, our family. They were a part of us. And while we do not pursue either justice or revenge against them for acts done in the past, we are not so quick to lay our ghosts.”

Kostya stiffened in his chair, his brows lowering.

“Too many lives have been lost to the black dragons.” Gabriel was silent for a moment, anguish deep within him. “Too many families were destroyed for us to simply forget those who sacrificed, or were sacrificed. We honor their memories now as we always will.”

I held my breath. I knew that under normal circumstances Gabriel was too honorable to go back on his word to Kostya. But what if he felt he was justified? What would the weyr do if the black and the silver dragons were once again battling with each other? There had been war recently in the weyr, one that had been forced to an end, much to Chuan Ren's disgust. Would another one be the result of the day's actions?

“Nor can we forget the price that those of us who survived have paid. It was only by a miracle of the most profound nature that I have found a mate, the other half of my being, but the other silver dragons must bear the punishment a black dragon placed upon them.”

Kostya shifted in his chair, but said nothing. Cyrene's smile had faded during Gabriel's speech until she looked lost, her gaze moving between Kostya, Gabriel, and me. I felt Gabriel's sorrow even as I was warmed by his declaration, but it drove home the fact that even if the black dragons rejoined the weyr, they could not remove the curse.

Only Baltic could do that.

Gabriel's silky voice rang out strong and clear in the silence of the room. “But even as we have acknowledged that pain, we have sought this moment, the day when old wounds could at last heal. The silver dragons welcome our long-lost brothers to the weyr with open hearts.”

Tears burned briefly at the backs of my eyes as Gabriel sat down beside me, taking my hand in his. I rubbed my thumb against his, trying to tell him without words how proud I was of him, how much I loved him.

“Well-done, Gabriel,” Aisling said softly.

Cyrene gave a moist sniffle and dug through her purse for a tissue. There was an echo of a sniffle from the side of the room, where Jim sat. I glanced at it, but it was licking its front leg.

Kostya stared at Gabriel for a long, long time, then nodded his head again, and turned expectantly to Chuan Ren.

“I am in agreement with the other wyverns,” she said crisply. “The sept of the black dragons is herewith recognized as a member of the weyr, as Konstantin Fekete is recognized as wyvern. The
sárkány
has thus been fulfilled and is at an end. Fetch Fiat!”

Chapter Seventeen

“So, are there going to be snacks for the dragon-heart thing? Because I missed lunch, being Cyrene's decoy, and that gyro she bought me isn't going to last until dinner. Hey, Fiat, long time no kidnap. Massacre anyone lately?”

“Jim, so help me god, one more word out of you, and you're going to be visiting Magoth,” Aisling snapped.

I hurried over to where the demon sat, watching Drake's two men bring Fiat into the room, filled with contrition. “I'm sorry, Aisling. I should have been watching it. Jim—”

“There's no need for
you
to yell at me, too,” it said with an injured sniff as it plopped itself down in front of the fireplace. “Ash already chewed my ass off. Man. Grumpy much?”

“I've just had it with you,” Aisling said, moving uncomfortably in her chair. I was about to rejoin Gabriel, but I stopped next to her.

“Are you all right? Did the
sárkány
tire you out?” I asked.

“Yes, I'm fine.”

I examined her face. She looked tired, black smudges under her eyes.