Sparks Fly: A Novel of the Light Dragons (34 page)

I put my finger out and touched the gun. It came away slightly damp. I looked at the surprised bird that sat on top of the statue, showing it my finger. “It’s butter.”

The bird, a dove, blinked at me, and ruffled its tail feathers.

I sighed. “When I said tree of butter and sea of dove, I was actually referring to colors, not actual…oh, never mind.” I considered my former husband for a moment, then nodded. “Fitting justice, I think, Gareth. I hope it’s a really, really hot day today. If I’m feeling benevolent later, I’ll send someone out to scrape up what’s left of you.”

The dove flew off as I turned and marched out to where the battle was in full force. “One down, one to go. And there she is.”

I smiled as I emerged from the trees with my morning star in hand. Ruth, who had been hiding behind a large boulder, spun around when I called her name.

“What are you doing there? Why aren’t you dead? You’re supposed to be dead!” She stomped her foot. “Where’s Gareth? What have you done to him? Dammit, he was supposed to take care of you!”

Behind me, a couple of men ran toward us.

“Gareth is a bit busy melting right now,” I told her with a satisfied smile. “And I think, I really think I’ve just about had enough of you.”

“Are you insane as well as stupid?” She tossed her head. “I’m the daughter of Antonia von Endres. I’m a necromancer of great repute. You’re not even dirt beneath my feet. You’re below dirt. You’re subdirt! I loathed you when we first found you, and I’ve loathed you every minute since. Gareth was always too soft where you were concerned, but I’m not soft, Sullivan.” Her face was red and twisted with hate as she swept a hand toward a wild patch of tall grass and broken headstones. “And now you’re going to see just how insignificant you really are. I will raise the dead, and they will rend the flesh from your bones, which I will grind into dust, and sprinkle on my doorstep so that I can walk over your remains every single day!”

“Seriously? Rend my flesh? You don’t think that’s a little over the top?”

She screamed and turned to run for the tiny graveyard. I looked over at the two men who approached. “Are you the watch?”

They paused. “Yes.” The nearest one narrowed his eyes at me. “And you are…?”

“That’s really not important right now. But you should know that the woman over there, the one waving her arms around in the graveyard, is a necromancer, and she’s about to raise some liches so she can kill Dr. Kostich, whom, incidentally, she just admitted she has bound and gagged and hidden away in some woods.”

The two men looked at each other, then at Ruth.

“Dr. Kostich told us we must protect the sepulcher. Is that fighting I hear?”

“Yes, a wacked-out necromancer—sister to that woman, by the way—is trying to get into it.” I smiled. “I used to be Dr. Kostich’s apprentice, you know, and I’m positive he’ll be very pissed if you let Ruth get away. If I were you, I’d take care of her first, then go nab her sister. It’ll be a hundred times harder to catch either of them if Ruth raises some liches to do her bidding.”

The men hesitated, then with a nod, dashed off toward the graveyard. I turned on my heel and ran toward the audible sounds of fighting that came from the other side of the church. “I’m not proud of that, but it’s better than turning her into butter. That leaves us with just one crazy woman to go.”

As I ran around the north side of the church, it was evident that Team Baltic was getting the better of the ouroboros dragons.

It was clearly time to stop the bloodshed and take charge of the situation. “All right, I’m here, I’m armed, and I have the power of butter behind me! I want everyone to stop fighting and settle down!”

No one, of course, paid the slightest bit of attention to me. Drat them all.

“I’m getting sick and tired of everyone always fighting around here,” I yelled as I stomped my way toward the mass of dragon bodies engaged in full battle. I paused at the sight of Magoth, now stark naked, his face painted blue, as he twirled a sword in one hand and leaped on the back of one of Thala’s dragons before immediately beating him on the head with the flat side of the sword. “Where on earth did you find blue paint?”

“Ysolde!”

“I’m fine,” I answered Baltic, who paused in the act of slashing at a dragon who was foolish enough to think he could take my darling dread wyvern. I raised the wooden handle of my morning star. “I picked up a toy.”

He nodded as he handily backhanded the dragon before turning back to where Thala was fighting Gabriel and István. I gave myself a moment to admire the fact that he was actually dual-wielding swords, one in each hand as he flung himself on her. His face and upper chest were covered with blood, but I could see by the light in his eyes, and the spiral of dragon fire that wove around him, that he was having a fine time. “We really have to find you a hobby,” I said to myself as I searched the crowd for Constantine.

“You OK?” Pavel asked as he danced past me, parrying a thrust from a green dragon. He, too, was armed with a sword. I gathered that as the ouroboros dragons fell, our people were picking up their weapons.

“Annoyed, but unharmed. Have you seen Constantine?”

“Over by the hole,” he grunted, leaping high into the air when the dragon tried to cut off his legs. A roar of anger ripped through the night, followed by a black shape as Pavel shifted and attacked the green dragon.

I hurried over to the blasted wall, leaning inside it to bellow, “Constantine!”

“Holy Mary, you needn’t yell, I’m right here,” came the disembodied answer. “I think you deafened me.”

Constantine’s form appeared, somewhat transparent, but solid enough that I could grab his sleeve. “Come on. We have to stop Thala. Baltic’s been using arcane magic and he’s run out of steam, and she’s not wearing out at all. Time for you to do your thing.”

“What thing is that?”

“The shade thing that you can do to stop her. Come on! Stop dragging your heels.”

“What will you give me if I help you?”

I stopped and turned to stare at him. “
What
did you say?”

He brushed his wrinkled sleeve and looked down his nose at me. “What will you give me as a payment for my assistance with the archimage’s deranged daughter?”

Damned dragons and their intense need to bargain! “You said you’d help me because you loved me!” Outrage poured through me, igniting my own fire.

“I changed my mind,” he said with a sniff. “I’m allowed to change my mind. I got you the shard, after all. I think I should have something for all my hard work.”

I hefted the morning star, tempted to tell him exactly what I was going to give him, but reason tempered that desire. “What do you want?” I snapped.

He stroked his chin in a contemplative gesture. “I want you.”

“Well, you can’t have me.”

He stroked some more. “Then I want a sept.”

“You challenged Kostya and lost, remember? You can challenge him again, but the same thing will happen. You’re dead, Constantine. You’re a spirit. You can’t be a wyvern and be a spirit. How do you expect to protect your sept if you run out of power every couple of minutes?”

He grimaced. “If I can’t have you, and I can’t have a sept, then I want to be with you in your sept.”

I couldn’t believe what I was hearing. “You want to join the light dragons?”

“Not particularly, but since that’s where you are, it will have to suffice.”

I blinked a couple of times, not sure what else to do. I couldn’t begin to imagine what Baltic would have to say to me when I informed him that his most hated enemy, the madman responsible for the destruction of so many lives, wanted to be a part of our sept, but now was not the time to dwell on the impossible.

“Fine. You stop Thala, and I’ll get Baltic to let you into the sept. Deal?”

“Deal,” he said, grabbing me by the shoulders and planting his mouth on mine.

“Try that again, and you’re going to be wearing this upside your head,” I snarled, shaking the morning star at him.

He just grinned as he slipped into incorporeal state and walked straight through the battle. I eyed it with some misgivings. About half the dragons lay dead or wounded, the remainder fighting with a ferocity that took me—and the others—by surprise. Just as Constantine reached where Baltic and Gabriel were keeping Thala busy, two things happened in short succession. The first was Drake suddenly emerging from behind me, a long ebony box in his hands.

“You got it!” I cried.

“Yes.” His gaze flickered out to the battle, obviously looking for Aisling.

“Jim and Aisling are over there, on that big rock. Holland is there with her,” I said, pointing.

“Ah.” He gave me a curious look, and somewhat reluctantly handed me the box. It had a long leather strap attached to it, which I slung over my chest.

“Oh, thank you! You really are a talented thief.”

“My reward?” he asked with one raised eyebrow.

I edged toward the destroyed wall. “Can it wait until after things calm down?”

“No.” He held out his hand.

I reached into my pocket and brought out the case containing the phylactery, handing it to him.

He opened it, both eyebrows raised. “The Avignon Phylactery?”

“Yes.” I gave him a long, hard look. “I expect you to keep it safe, Drake.”

He bowed and tucked it away inside his jacket. “I will treasure it.”

“You’d better, or Baltic will want it back.”

He was about to answer, but at an angry shout from István, he jumped through the destroyed wall, snatching up a sword in the process before he joined the fray.

“Now we’re getting somewhere,” I said, applauding lightly when Pavel chased off a wounded dragon, returning to go after a pair of blue dragons who were attacking Baltic.

“But not where you think you’re going,” a voice said behind me. “Give that to me!”

“No,” I said, my jaw dropping a smidgen as Dr. Kostich, trailing bits of duct tape, strode toward me with a furious expression. “Savian said you were tied up and out of our way!”

“I am an archimage,” he said through clenched teeth, his eyes all but spitting ire. “I am not put out of anyone’s way, let alone someone as nefarious as you and your gang of hoodlums. Return that sword to me this instant, or you will pay the penalty, and I assure you, Tully Sullivan, that it is a debt you do not wish to incur.”

“My name is Ysolde de Bouchier,” I said, squaring my shoulders. “And it’s Baltic’s sword, not yours. You can just—”

Luckily, there was an interruption at that moment to keep me from finishing what was going to be a very inappropriate
suggestion. Unluckily, the reason for the interruption was imminent death and destruction.

A blast of air and light sent everyone flying backward a few feet.

“What the—that was an arcane blast,” I said, shaking my head as I stood up. “Baltic needs to watch where he’s aiming that.”

“It wasn’t your gargantuan mate who cast that spell.” Dr. Kostich also got to his feet and was in the act of brushing himself off when he froze, his eyes narrowed as he stared toward Baltic.

“It had to be. Only mages can call up arcane power like that.”

“It was the woman,” he said, his lips barely moving.

Goose bumps crawled down my arms. “Thala? But she’s a necromancer. She doesn’t have arcane power.”

“She’s singing!” Pavel yelled, turning to face the rest of us as everyone, friend and foe alike, slowly rose from the ground. “Take cover!”

“Sainted Mother, she’s going to sing another dirge,” I gasped, spinning around to find a place to hide. I grabbed Dr. Kostich by the arm and jerked him to the side, toward the missing wall.

“No,” he said, pulling me back. “That building is about to collapse.”

“Ysolde!”

The world seemed to slow down at that point, time itself lagging until each second took five times as long to pass. I watched with an odd sense of detachment as Baltic vaulted over the still-fighting dragons, shifting as he did so back into human form, his face a mask of fear—fear for me, I knew. Beyond him, Thala stood with her arms outstretched, a horrible wail starting to scrape across the night sky. I knew it was a matter of only a few seconds before she completed the dirge, too long for Baltic to reach me.

A sob choked in my throat as I dropped my morning star and ran toward him, needing his strength not to protect me, but to complete me.

The dirge swelled into a sound that threatened to burst my eardrums…and then it stopped, the air around us vibrating as it waited for the final note, the final word of the dirge to complete it. A golden light gathered itself before me, tiny little motes spinning around and around until they elongated into the shape of a man.

“Your time has run out, daughter,” the First Dragon said, his eyes filled with sorrow.

I stared at him for a second. Then, slow as molasses, my gaze shifted over his shoulder, to where Baltic still ran toward me in slow motion. Thala appeared to be frozen in time, what remained of her tribe staring with open mouths at the First Dragon as he strode forward.

“Run out of time? You’re going to kill me?” My voice was pathetic and tiny, reflecting perfectly the uncertainty I felt at that moment. Was he so pissed at me that he’d kill me for failing to save Baltic’s honor? He wouldn’t do that, would he?

His gaze flicked to the side as Baltic stumbled over a dead dragon, skidding to a stop next to me. “Baltic.”

“I would have you cease harassing my mate,” Baltic said somewhat breathily, his chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

I elbowed him and whispered, “A little more humility might be in order, my darling.”

Baltic ignored me. “If you wish to punish me for the acts of the past, you will do so to me, not Ysolde. She is not to blame for any of my actions.”

“You are correct. You alone are answerable for your sins.” The First Dragon glanced around at the gathering, his gaze pausing for a moment on Thala before returning to me.

“I’m sorry. I haven’t yet managed to do what you
wanted me to do,” I said, clasping Baltic’s hand for support.

“This will end where it began,” the First Dragon said, and in the fraction of time between instants, we were no longer standing outside the sepulcher. Instead, we stood, all of us, in a cleared section of woods that surrounded a tall, grey structure.