“It’s a yes-or-no question, Feldman,” Curran said. “Yes or no?”
Everyone looked at Nick.
“No,” he said.
Ha! “Was the Order able to pinpoint the origin of the magic or find any other similar cases?”
“No,” Nick said.
“So, you have nothing to bring to this discussion,” I said. “You’re going to sit there and bitch and moan and push your private vendetta. Here is a thought; if I’m a princess, you’re a knight, Nick. It’s in your title. Knight-protector. How about you put on your shining armor and do some protecting against this dragon instead of relying on the princess to do your dirty work?”
Nick leaned forward. “You’re asking me to accept a mythical creature that nobody has seen for hundreds of years and which requires too much magic to survive invading us with his magical army. There is a simpler explanation.”
“I’d love to hear it.”
“It’s your father.”
The People and the Guild representatives collectively groaned.
“Will you stop?” I growled at him. “Just stop, Nick! Stop! It’s not Roland.”
“How do you know? There are two possibilities: either he is orchestrating this, or you are complicit in his machinations.”
“Shut up!” Rowena snapped at him.
“He has a point,” Phillip yelled. “There is no evidence of this supposed dragon. It is a magical impossibility. In fact, I wrote a paper—”
“Your paper was hogwash,” Luther cut in.
“Precisely,” Saiman added.
“I am the Grand Magus. I won’t be spoken to like this!”
The table erupted in screams.
“I’ll speak to you however I please!” Luther shot back.
“You’re a loose cannon, Luther!” Phillip shook his finger at him.
“It’s Dr. Loose Cannon to you!”
“Evidence!” Nick raised his voice, trying to out scream the others. “You have no evidence, no armor from these warriors, no scales, no evidence!”
“Tell them!” Grigorii pointed at Drest.
“Tell them what?” Drest asked.
“You know what,” Grigorii yelled.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” Drest shouted.
“Coward!” Grigorii spat.
“Senile fool!”
The druids and the volhvs banged their staffs on the floor, glaring at each other.
“We need to wake Yu Fong!” Phillip yelled. “He has actually seen the creature. We can ask him directly.”
“Over my dead body!” Dali snapped.
Everyone on the Pack side looked outraged.
On one side, Evdokia sighed and rolled her eyes. At the other end, Desandra clapped her hands over the cacophony, chanting, “Fight, fight, fight . . .”
I turned to Curran. “Do the roar thing.”
He shook his head. “Not yet. Let them scream themselves out.”
The front door burst open. Hugh d’Ambray strode inside, huge in a cloak and the black armor of the Iron Dogs. A beautiful woman followed him. She wore a blue dress and her hair was unnaturally white.
I’d left my sword in the parking lot. That was okay. I’d take him apart with my bare hands.
Julie squeezed in behind them.
My mind took a second to process the fact that Julie wasn’t trying to stab him in the back. In fact, she looked like she . . . Like they came in together. Like she went and got him.
Why me? Why? I couldn’t take much more of this; I really couldn’t.
D’Ambray raised a big bag and emptied it over the table. Metal clattered onto the wood: a skull in a helmet, a pair of daggers, amulets, photographs of Pictish symbols tattooed on human skin. I suppose I should be grateful he didn’t dump a rotting corpse on us.
The table went completely silent.
“I’ve come to help you with your dragon problem,” he said.
Nick turned the color of an eggplant. Next to me, Curran had gone completely still.
“Well?” Hugh grinned. “Don’t all of you thank me at once.”
The white-haired woman smiled and gave us a little wave. “Please excuse him. He forgets about manners sometimes. My name is Elara. You may know me as the White Warlock. I’ve heard so much about you. It’s so nice to meet all of you. I’m Hugh’s wife.”
The world stood on its hands and kicked me in the face.
HUGH D’AMBRAY HAD a wife. He owned a castle. He lived in the middle of Kentucky’s wilderness. They’d first encountered Neig’s troops over a year ago. They’d fought them and developed some strategies. He was glad to share those strategies with us. He had no doubt that Neig was a dragon. He could field three hundred of his Iron Dogs and personally lead them to assist us with this fight. He regretted he couldn’t field more, but he’d had to leave a force to guard the castle. In return, he expected the city of Atlanta to help him with some herb sales.
Herb sales.
I sat and listened to all of it as if I were under water. It didn’t seem real. It was so bizarre, my brain refused to digest it.
His wife was the White Warlock. I’d caught Evdokia’s glance once or twice. She didn’t seem shocked. The witches had known. Julie wouldn’t even look at me. They came in together. She went and got him.
Maybe he’s married and living happily in some castle somewhere.
She had known where he was, and she didn’t tell me.
I realized the room was silent. Everyone was looking at me, including d’Ambray. He must’ve asked me a question.
I took a stab in the dark. “I need to think about it.”
“We should adjourn,” Ghastek said.
“Great idea!” Phillip reached toward the pile of armor on the table.
“No!” Luther slapped his hand away.
“Do not touch me.”
“This is the best evidence we have so far!” Luther said. “You’re not getting your paws on it.”
“It’s not,” Saiman said, turning to Ghastek. “He has a live specimen.”
Luther and Phillip swiveled to Ghastek. Luther opened his mouth and struggled to form words, but nothing came out.
“He’s had it for twenty-four hours and he didn’t notify anyone,” Saiman snitched.
“The yeddimur is the property of the People,” Ghastek said.
The three experts screeched in unison, like they had suddenly turned into harpies.
“Enough,” Curran roared.
Silence claimed the table.
I turned to Luther. “You’re the leading expert on infectious magic.” I looked at Ghastek. “You’re the leading expert on magic virus–induced transformations.” I turned to Saiman. “You have a wide variety of expert knowledge across several fields.” I glanced at Phillip. “You’re a professional skeptic terrified for your reputation. Work together.”
Ghastek looked taken aback. “You want me to . . .”
“Share,” I said.
He blinked.
“Work together. Publish a joint paper afterward if you want, I don’t care. Just get me something we can use.”
Curran rose to his feet. I got up and we walked out.
Behind me, Hugh murmured, “That went well.”
“Give them time,” Elara said.
“Steed,” Hugh said.
I stopped. One wrong word to Christopher and I would murder him. Out of the corner of my eye I could see Barabas. His eyes had gone bright red.
“You’ve survived,” Christopher said.
“You know what they say about me. Hard to kill. I have some things to apologize for.”
“Come by the house,” Christopher said. “303 Forest Lane. We’ll talk.”
I forced myself to resume walking.
Curran and I got into the Jeep. I chanted at the engine until it turned over, and we drove out of the parking lot. It had rained while we were inside. The city seemed annoyed, like a cat who’d gotten wet.
“Am I crazy?” I asked.