I gestured toward the bath and went to a chest for the soap. “I wasn’t alone. My personal guard went with me.” “So I should hope.” Water splashed as he got into the tub. “Where is he if he is not here?” I took a deep breath, watching as the maids poured in the last of the hot water. When they were done and we were alone again, I dampened a sea sponge and swirled it around on the soap I made especially for Baltic. It was scented with frankincense and myrrh, his favorite. He watched me closely as I knelt next to the tub and began washing him.
“My mother would never let me wash anyone,” I said, wishing to avoid the pain I knew was coming. “I see now why she did so. It’s very sensual, this spreading of soap on a man’s body.” Baltic, distracted by the feeling of my fingers stroking across his skin, slippery little trails following each of my fingers as I lathered up the soft hair of his chest, glanced downward. “I am filthy, and riddled with fleas and lice, chérie. If you continue to stroke me that way, you will end up sharing the bath, and will not thank me for allowing my vermin to visit you.” I smiled, enjoying the hard muscles that lay in smooth ropes beneath his satiny flesh. Reluctantly, admitting the truth to his statement, I soaped up the sponge again and handed it to him, rising to fetch clean clothing as he briskly washed himself.
“Now you will tell me what you have wished to avoid,” he said, washing the long ebony lengths of his hair, leaning forward so I could rinse the soap off with one of the remaining leathers of water.
“Kostya has forsaken you,” I said simply, grabbing a linen cloth when he leaped to his feet, wincing as soapy water streamed down into his eyes. I mopped off his face, toweling his hair, and saying quickly, “He believes what all black dragons believe — that you seek to control the weyr. He refuses to be a part of it any longer. It was he who summoned me to Paris. I told him of my plan to use the dragon heart to stop the war, and he arranged for the other septs to loan me the shards so that it could be done.” “I wondered how you had arranged that,” he said in a deceptively mild voice. I wasn’t fooled — he was beyond angry, beyond furious, his fire barely contained.
“Sit back down and finish bathing. I do not wish to share my bed with your friends any more than I would a bath,” I said wearily, pouring him a cup of wine.
“So he has acted at last,” Baltic said, slowly sitting down, absently washing his body as I retrieved a fine comb and a paste made from white bryony and honey that would kill the head lice. “I suspected he would, although I had not thought he would involve you.” I said nothing for a few minutes, rubbing the paste into his hair, then combing it over and over again until I was satisfied.
“You do not leap to his defense?” Baltic asked as I washed the paste out of his hair.
“What is there to say that I haven’t already said?” I asked, pouring the last leather of water over his head. “He believes you to be a madman, willing to throw away the lives of everyone in the sept in order that you might rule supreme over the weyr. I don’t blame him for leaving you — if I were he, I would do the same.” He shot me a look that sought reassurance. I leaned forward and gently kissed him, taking his breath into my mouth as my lips caressed his. “I am not Kostya, my love. I will never leave you.” “If I can’t stop Constantine, you will not be left with the choice.” “There is always a choice,” I said, holding up a cloth for him. “We just need to find it.” The heat of the fire melted away, easing into a different sort of warmth. Sunlight poured over me as I sat on the stone front steps of Baltic’s house. I blinked as my mind was once again returned to the present, no longer disconcerted by the ease with which I slipped in and out of the visions.
“Whatcha doing?”
I looked up from where I had been hugging my legs, my chin resting on my knees, and moved the pad of paper upon which I’d been making a list before I’d slipped into the vision.
Jim plopped its big butt down next to me.
“Making a to-do list. I thought you were out with Brom.” The demon made a face. “He found a dead mouse and is looking it over to see if it’s too far gone to mummify or not. Kid’s a little weird, Soldy — you have to admit it.” “ ‘Eccentric’ is, I believe, the term you meant to use,” I said with a gimlet glance. “He is very intelligent. He has interests beyond those of lesser children.” “Whatever. What’s on your list?” It peered at the tablet. “ ‘Call Aisling.’ You better put on a pair of asbestos earplugs, ’cause she’s going to be Miss Pottymouth of 2010 when she hears what you did to me.” “She seems like a reasonable person,” I said with complacence I did not feel. “I’m sure I will be able to explain.” Jim snorted. “That’s not a word that’s often applied to her, but you’re just going to have to find that out for yourself. What’s next on the list? ‘Call May and apologize for disappearance.’ I like May. She feeds me.” “That is an excellent pointed look, but it is wasted on me. I’m sure you already had breakfast, and it’s not lunchtime yet.” “You think this fabulous form stays looking this way without any help? Nuh-uh! I gotta give it all sorts of vitamins and minerals and fresh, lightly grilled cuts of beef.” “I’m sure you’ll survive until lunch.” “I wouldn’t count on it. Number three… oooh. That’s going to be a doozy.” “Yes, it is.”
Jim’s face screwed up as it thought. “If I was you, I’d try and find a neutral place to meet the wyverns. Because if you just march into a sárkány with Baltic, they’ll grab you both.” I gave the demon a long look. “Why are you being helpful?” Its eyes opened wide. “Me? Helpful? Not on your shiny pink ass. I’m a demon, remember?” “Yes, but you’re being helpful. That is totally against the norm so far as demons go.” “Yeah, well.” It paused to suck a tooth. “I’m more than just a normal demon. I’m like Demon Plus with super whitening power. How’re you going to get Baltic to agree to meet with the other wyverns?” “What makes you think he wouldn’t?” I asked, quelling a feeling of worry about that very subject.
It rolled its eyes at me. “He’s the dread wyvern Baltic! The big kahuna during the Endless War. He’s probably killed more dragons than everyone else put together.” “Oh, he has not!” I said, shifting uneasily.
“You kidding? Mr. ‘We use his name to scare little dragons into being good’ Baltic? He’s like Genghis Khan and Vlad the Impaler and Stalin all rolled into one scaly package.” “Baltic is not scaly! Almost never!” It cocked a furry eyebrow at me. “Face it, Soldums — you don’t get the kind of reputation Baltic has by working well with others, and that’s what number three on your list is asking him to do.” I looked down at my list, sighing to myself as I admitted the truth. “He used to be scary. Now he’s different.” “A kinder, gentler maniac is still a maniac, chicky. Tell you what — you send me back to Ash, and I’ll tell her and Drake that Baltic isn’t the hyperderanged, mass-murdering psycho bastard they think he is, OK?” “No,” I said firmly, putting a little tick mark next to item number three. “We’re not going to tell them that. We’re going to prove it, and the only way we can do that is to get everyone together, the wyverns and Baltic and me, so we can work things out in a civilized manner.” The demon eyed me curiously as I stood up, filled with determination. “You think you got a way to make all that happen?” “I think I have a way to make Baltic understand that he will have to speak with the wyverns, yes. You forget there’s a death sentence hanging over my head. He may be adorably arrogant, but I doubt very much if he will allow the weyr to kill me. I’ll simply point out that if he wants that sentence lifted, he’s going to have to go with me to speak to the wyverns.” “Uh-huh. That’s just part of it, though, the Baltic side. How are you going to get the wyverns to talk to him?” “That’s the easiest part of all,” I said, patting it on its head.