“If you prefer tea, we can get you some,” May said, watching me.
“Actually, I’m really big on chocolate,” I said with an apologetic smile. “I’m afraid the term ‘chocoholic’ applies to me far too well.” “I’m sure we can rustle up some hot chocolate,” she said, rising.
“Don’t go to any bother for me—”
“It’s no bother. I’ll just go tell Renata.” May disappeared, leaving me with Brom. I sat across from him, trying to make a decision.
“Gabriel says there’s a museum here that has human mummies. Can we go see them?” Brom asked.
“Possibly. I have to see Dr. Kostich today, though. I was told he’s in town, and I will need to see what work he has for me.” Brom’s expression was made strangely horrible by the mouthful of toast and eggs he stuffed in. “Gabriel said Tipene or Maata would take me ’cause you’re going to be busy with dragon stuff.” “Dragon stuff?” I frowned, idly rubbing my finger along the beaded edge of the table. “What sort of dragon stuff?” Brom thought for a few seconds, his cheeks bulging as he chewed. “It had some foreign word, like sarcophagus.” “Sárkány,” May said, entering the room with a tall, athletic woman who towered over her. Like Tipene, she appeared to be of Aboriginal descent, with lovely dark skin that gave emphasis to her grey eyes. “This is Maata, by the way. She’s the second of Gabriel’s elite guards.” We exchanged greetings. Maata moved to the sideboard, loading up a plate almost as full as Brom’s.
“Before you ask,” May continued, retaking her seat, “a sárkány is basically a meeting where the wyverns discuss weyr business. Kostya called one for today.” “Kostya?” I sat frozen for a second as a face rose in my mind’s eye.
“Yes.” Both May and Maata watched me. “Do you know him?” I blinked away the image, saying slowly, “He was in a dream I had.” “Kaawa mentioned you were dreaming of your past. It must be very confusing to you to see yourself but not be able to relate to it.” “Yes,” I answered, falling silent as a young woman bustled into the room with a pot of hot chocolate for me. I thanked her, breathing deeply of the lovely chocolatey smell.
“The sárkány is called for three this afternoon,” May continued, sipping her coffee.
“I’m sure we can stay out of your way while you have your meeting.” “That’s actually not what I meant,” May said with a little smile. “The sárkány has been called so the wyverns can be introduced to you.” I sighed. “I’m getting very tired of telling people I’m not a dragon.” “I know. But I do think it would be good for you to meet them. If nothing else, they will be able to see for themselves that you’re human.” “There is that… ” I chewed my lip for a moment. “All right. I will come to your meeting.” “Excellent!” May said, looking pleased. “Brom would probably find it pretty dull stuff, so Maata volunteered to take him to the British Museum to see the mummies.” I assessed Maata. She looked sturdy enough to take on a semitruck, and since she was one of Gabriel’s elite guard, I assumed she was beyond trustworthy. “That’s very kind of you, but I wouldn’t want to impose,” I told her.
She waved away the objection with a fork loaded with herbed eggs. “It’s no imposition at all. I happen to like mummies, and am very interested in Brom’s experiments with mummifying animals. Before I knew I was to be part of Gabriel’s guard, I thought I might be a veterinarian.” “That’s what Sullivan wants me to do,” Brom said around another mouthful of food.
I frowned at him, and he made a huge effort to swallow.
“You are not a python,” I told him. “Chew before you swallow.” “This is none of my business, but why do you call your mother Sullivan?” May asked.
Brom shrugged. “It’s what Gareth calls her.” May’s gaze transferred to me. “Your husband calls you by your last name?” “Gareth is a little bit… special,” I said, pouring out more hot chocolate. It was excellent, very hot, just as I liked it, and made with Belgian cocoa.
She murmured something noncommittal.
“I’ve decided after talking with your… er… what do you call Kaawa?” I asked May.
“Call her?”
“Yes. I mean, you’re not married to Gabriel, are you? Not that I’m judging! Lots of people shack up without getting married. I just wondered what you call his mother.” She blinked at me twice. “I call her Kaawa.” “I see.”
She smiled, and I realized again that there was something about her that struck a familiar chord. “Marriage is a human convention. I’ve never been human, so I don’t feel the need to formalize the relationship I have with Gabriel in that way. The bond between a wyvern and a mate is much more binding than a mortal marriage ceremony, Ysolde. There is no such thing as divorce in the dragon world.” Brom’s eyes grew round as he watched her.
“Dragons never make bad choices so far as their significant others go, then?” I couldn’t help but ask, trying hard to keep the acid tone from my voice.
“I’m sure some do,” she said, glancing at Maata. “I’ve never met any, though. Have you?” “Yes, although it is rare,” Maata told me. “It is not common, but it can happen that two people are mated who should not be.” “So what do they do? Live out their lives in quiet misery, trying to make the best of what they have despite the fact that they have no hope, no hope whatsoever of any sort of a satisfying or happy connubial and romantic life?” I couldn’t help but ask.
“What’s connubial?” Brom asked around another mouthful of eggs.
“Married.”
May hid her smile, but Maata openly laughed. “I would like to see the dragon that is content to live in quiet misery. No, if a mated pair is not compatible, they take the only solution.” I waited for her to continue, but she didn’t. I had to know, though. My curiosity would not be satisfied until I asked. “And what’s that?” “One of them kills the other,” she said, shrugging slightly. “Death is the only way to break the bond. Of course, usually the one who remains does not survive long, but that is the way of dragons. They mate for life, and when one mate is gone, the other often chooses to end his or her suffering.” “Cool,” Brom said, looking far too fascinated for my ease of mind. “Do you know of a dragon who’s died? I wonder if I could mummify something that big. Do they die in dragon form or people form? What happens to them when they’re dead? Do you bury them like mortals, or do you burn them up or something else?” “Enough of the ‘like mortals’ comment, young man,” I told him. “You are a mortal. I don’t care what anyone tells you — you are a perfectly normal little boy, albeit one with a bizarre mummy fascination.” “Sullivan is all over denial,” he told Maata, who nodded her head in agreement.
“We are going to move on, because if we don’t, someone will find himself confined to his room rather than going to a museum,” I said with a dark look at my child.
“Are you going to kill Gareth?” he asked me, completely ignoring the look.
“What?” I gawked at him.
“Gabriel said you’re married to a dragon named Baltic, but you’re also married to Gareth. That means you have to get rid of one of them, and you don’t like Gareth, so you should get rid of him.” He frowned. “Although I don’t want you to if you’ll do what Maata said, and end your suffering.” “I assure you that I have no intentions to kill either myself or your father. Shall we move on? Excellent. I really need to see Dr. Kostich today. What time were you thinking of going to the museum?” I asked Maata.