Holy Smokes (33 page)

“No.”

“You would hide behind the weyr rather than facing me?” Kostya asked, his voice filled with disdain.

“We are not going to rejoin your sept,” Gabriel said, slowly getting to his feet. Instantly Maata and Tipene were at his side, presenting a united front. “There is nothing you can do, nothing you can offer us that will induce us to dissolve our sept and rejoin that which we left so many centuries ago. Too much blood has been spilled over this issue, and although we do not want war with you, we will fight to the death any attempt that is made against our sept.”

“Do not mistake me for Baltic,” Kostya said, a slight smile on his lips as he withdrew from his inner jacket pocket the small lumpy gold figurine, tossing it in the air. Gabriel’s eyes widened as he saw what it was that Kostya held. “I will not be so foolish as he was, to effect a war upon you. I have seen the outcome of such ignorance. I will, however, petition the weyr to restore to the black dragons what was illegally taken from them. Your beloved Constantine was many things, but a man learned in the laws of the weyr was
not
one of them.”

I scooted over to Drake, bumping his hand to get his notice. “Is he saying what I think he’s saying?”

“I believe so.” Drake frowned at his brother. “What is it you are hinting at, Kostya?”

“I hint at nothing, brother. Once formally recognized by the weyr, I will, however, present the evidence that Baltic had ignored for so many centuries—proof that the silver dragons were never formally admitted into the weyr, and thus their sept is not a separate entity in its own right.”

Gabriel laughed. “We do not fear you, Kostya Fekete. Your threats are as hollow as your brain.”

“Ouch,” Jim said softly.

“That was a definite seven-pointer,” I said. “Gabriel is well ahead on style points.”

“Yeah, but I bet the swimsuit competition is going to be a close call.”

I bit my lip to keep from giggling. Jim tipped its head as it looked up at me. “Since when did you become such a staunch Gabriel supporter?”

“Since he helped us get to Drake, got us all back to civilization, and didn’t toss Kostya off the side of the mountain on the way down, as he no doubt wanted. And I’m beginning to see why.”

Drake overheard the last of our muted comments, giving me a glance that shut up both Jim and me. “Threats and insults are useless. You may present your case to the weyr at the proper time and place, Kostya—neither of which is now.”

“Assuming he gets recognition,” Gabriel said, his voice as smooth as ever, but there was an undertone in it that had me giving him a second look.

“All I need is a majority vote. Bastian as the new wyvern of the blue dragons has already committed his vote to me.”

“And Chuan Ren? Do you think she will be so easily swayed to your side?” Gabriel asked.

Kostya smiled and tossed the phylactery in the air again. Beside me, Drake’s body tensed as though he was about to pounce. I took his hand, giving him a little smile as he glanced toward me. I had no desire to see him warring with his brother, and that, I suspected, would be the outcome if Drake retrieved the phylactery.

“She will see the wisdom of recognizing me and my sept if I make it clear to her that I will reward such support with a treasure beyond measure.”

Pál gasped at the implication. I watched Drake worriedly, concerned that he might give in to his brother’s arrogance. To my relief, he squeezed my fingers, reassuring me that he wasn’t going to do anything stupid.

“That is only two of the three votes needed to allow you readmittance,” Drake said slowly.

Kostya drew back, much as a cobra pulls back before striking. “You swore to stand beside me. Do you dishonor that vow?”

“I said I would support your readmittance to the weyr if you did not commit acts of aggression against the silver dragons. Your actions tonight make it clear that our agreement is void.”

Fire lit Kostya’s eyes as he faced his brother—and it wasn’t a friendly little fire. “You will not stand by my side as you did once before?” he asked, his voice harsh with strain.

The room was so silent, I could hear Jim’s stomach rumbling.

“We shall see,” was all Drake said before nodding at Gabriel. István and Pál opened the door, and without another word being spoken, we left the suite.

“You’re the king of exit lines, I’ll give you that,” I said as we waited at the elevator. “But I hope Kostya doesn’t interpret that specimen of exit line superiority as a declaration of war.”

He said nothing, but his beautiful eyes were veiled.

I had a bad feeling that things were not going to be so easily settled. A very bad feeling indeed.

I’m not going to say
anything.
But I’m going to think it!

“…at which point, we left. It was a hell of a line to leave on, but I just don’t know. As much as it pains me to say something negative about a member of Drake’s family who isn’t his mother, I just don’t know what to think of Kostya. Is he going to be content to try to do things on the political level, or is he going to bring about a new war? Is he just an arrogant dragon, or is he bonkers? Will he respect the bounds of brotherhood, or will he try to bring Drake down if the green dragons don’t support him? It’s very worrisome.”

Rene wrinkled his brow as he maneuvered the car off a roundabout and onto a less-traveled road. “Brother against brother…that is most tragic. But me, I do not believe Kostya will do this thing. If it was not for Drake and you, he would still be captive. He must owe to you a certain respect,
hein
?”

“You’d think so, but you know dragons. They do things their own way,” I answered as we turned onto the drive of the house that was Bael’s domain in England, my fingers tightening around the handle of the titanium case bearing the Tools of Bael.

“Drake knows what he’s doing,” Uncle Damian said from the backseat, where he’d been reading the paper. Jim had its head hanging out the window, thankfully silent for the moment.

“I hope so. Rene, are you sure you want to come with me? Bael said all I have to do is hand over the Tools and do the disavowal, and then he’d give me the expulsion. I’m sure with Uncle Damian and Jim I’ll be perfectly safe, if you’d rather pass on another visit to Abaddon.”

Rene’s chest puffed out as he narrowly missed mowing down a demon clipping a tall yew hedge. “I am not afraid of Bael. I am a member of the Court of Divine Blood. There is nothing he can do to me.”

“You’re a member of this Court place?” I asked, curious. “I never knew that.”

“I am a daimon,” he said with his usual expressive shrug. “Daimons are part of the Court. Bael cannot harm me with out bringing down the Court upon his head, and that, not even Bael would be stupid enough to do.”

Jim had pulled in its head long enough to hear Rene’s comment. “Oh yeah, the demon lords don’t mess with Court members. Very bad juju.”

“What do you know about it?” I asked, turning around in my seat to mop up the long tendrils of drool the wind had pulled from its slobbery flews.

“Boy, you really do have splinters in the windmills of your mind, don’t you?” Jim asked, shaking its head.

“No more Carol Burnett DVDs for you, buster. Just answer my question.”

“Hello! I was a sprite, remember? That’s a member of the Court.”

Uncle Damian looked up at Jim in surprise. “Your demon was a what?”

“It’s a sort of a lesser angel, I think,” I told him as we got out of the car. Two demons emerged from the house to meet us. “Jim got kicked out and sent to Abaddon.”

“Why am I not surprised?” my uncle said as he took up a position at my side.

“Like uncle, like niece…”

“You have come to pay wer?” the first demon asked, blocking our way into the house.

“Well, I guess I’ll pay wherever Bael wants, although I’d like to get this over with quickly.”

Jim, the two demons, and Rene all looked at me as if I was suddenly speaking in Serbo-Croatian.

“What have I said now?” I asked them.

“Wer is the name of the payment that Bael has asked. It is not a location, you understand?” Rene explained.

“Oh. Sorry. Um, yes, I’ve come to pay the wer.”

The demons nodded and turned on their heels, clearly expecting us to follow.

“Don’t say it,” I warned Jim as it opened its mouth. “I’d just like to remind all of you that no one bothered to give me the
Big Demon Lord’s Book of Archaic Lingo,
so I’m a little clueless when it comes to unnecessary terms that people use just to impress others.”

I could have sworn I heard Jim say, “A
little
clueless?” as we entered the hall, but I had more important things to worry about than a few snipes from my demon.

Bael was waiting for us when we were shown into his room, his eyes lighting on the case I held firmly with both hands. “I see you have brought the Tools. Excellent. And the sacrifice?”

I cleared my throat. I was dreading this moment, hoping against hope that some brilliantly cunning plan would occur to me that would allow me to escape from Bael’s hold without the loss of my Guardian abilities. Unfortunately, nothing struck me. Drake was just as much at a loss as I was, and al though I badly wanted to call Nora for advice, pride kept me from blubbering all over her about what my own folly had wrought.

You don’t have to do this, you know.

“The sacrifice…I’m ready,” I said, lifting my chin and meeting Bael’s eyes even though my soul wept.

Such drama over something for which you have a simple solution.

“Very well. You may proceed,” Bael said, leaning back in his chair, his fingertips tapping together.

Uncle Damian gave me an abrupt nod and squeezed my shoulder for a moment. Rene watched me with sad eyes. Jim leaned on my leg and rubbed its head on my knee.

Let’s talk this over before you commit yourself to an action you’ll later regret.

I set the case down on the table next to Bael, opening the lid and removing the protective layer of foam. “As part of the terms of our agreement, I give to you the three items known collectively as the Tools of Bael: the Anima di Lucifer, the Occio di Lucifer, and the Voce di Lucifer.”

You know, if you kept them for yourself, you could defeat Bael and truly reign supreme in Abaddon. Think what changes you could make!

“The blood, eye, and voice of Lucifer,” Bael said, satisfaction dripping from his voice as he reached out a long finger and touched the golden aquamanile that was shaped like a dragon. “How nice it is to have them back.”

You are foolish, Aisling Grey. So foolish.

I took a deep breath, reminding myself that I was a strong, confident woman even if I was about to relinquish one of the most important things in my life.

Don’t make a hasty decision. There are so many other options—

“In accordance with the second term of our agreement, I hereby renounce my Guardian powers, doing so of my free will. From this moment on, I will no longer be a Guardian.”

Fame, fortune, happiness—working with me, you can have it all.

My voice cracked midway through my disavowal, but I made it without breaking down and crying. I clung to that fact, and to the knowledge that soon I’d be rid of the dark power forever.

You will never be rid of me. I am part of you. Nothing you can do will change that.

“There now, that didn’t hurt so much, did it?” Bael asked, his voice light with mockery.

“There’s no need to gloat,” Uncle Damian said, his voice a bit rusty. “Aisling’s done what you asked. Now you keep your part of the bargain.”

Bael didn’t even glance at him, but he casually pulled a piece of parchment toward himself, signing below five other signatures.

This is not the last you will hear of me! I will not be—

The voice inside my head suddenly stopped as Bael lifted his pen.

“It is done,” he said, pushing the parchment toward me. It bore six signatures on it, Bael’s the largest, at the bottom, and no surprise—signed in blood. “It saddens me, but henceforth you will no longer be known as a prince of Abaddon. You are expulsed, Aisling Grey. Now if you don’t mind, I have the important job of finding your replacement.”

I stood a bit stunned for a moment, watching him for some sign of trickery. It wasn’t until my uncle took my arm and forcibly steered me out of the room and down the great hall that I realized I had done it—it had cost me a sum without measure, but I had done it. I was no longer a prince of Abaddon! The dark power could never tempt me again.

I waited a moment for it to say something snarky, but all was silent in my head.

“Are you all right?” Uncle Damian asked as he hustled me out the front door, back to Rene’s car.

“I think she’s inner monologuing,” Jim said, jumping into the backseat. “Dark power’s gone, huh?”

“Yes,” I said, a strange, light euphoria filling me even as I felt tremendously saddened. “But…does anyone else find this whole thing really anticlimactic? Almost as if…as if it was planned to end this way?”

“Kinda makes you think, huh?” Jim asked as I took my seat in the car.

“Yes. And I don’t like what I’m thinking.”

“What is that?” Rene asked, pulling away from the house.

“That Bael was taking me for a ride all along. He had to know I had given the Tools to Drake…who’s to say he didn’t arrange for me to become a prince of Abaddon just so one day, I’d barter the Tools for my freedom?”

Rene looked thoughtful. Uncle Damian grunted something about not worrying over spilt milk, but worry was one of the things I did best.

I looked down at the parchment I held in my hand. “So now what? We take this to the Court?”

“
Oui.
Although your uncle and Jim, they will not be allowed in. Mortals are seldom let in, and as for the demons, eh. You can imagine that they are not welcome.”

“Hypocrites,” Jim muttered, stepping on the window opener so it could stick its head out.

“Gotcha. You OK with that, Uncle Damian?”

“Drake said I would not be let in, but that you would be safe there. I will read the paper while you’re taking care of your business.”