“I figure we have about five minutes before Baltic insults Gabriel to the point where they start duking it out,” I told May as I took the seat she pointed me to. “We’re going to have to make this fast.”
“I’m all ears.” She sat opposite me, saying not a word while I recounted the experience I’d had earlier in the day. Neither one of us thought anything about the fact that I would tell her something so intimate as the vision I had—through the dragon shard we had both once borne, there was a connection between us, a tie with the First Dragon that made it perfectly reasonable that she should hear about the vision he had given me. Her expression never wavered as I described the scene, but I knew she was as taken aback as I had been upon hearing Constantine’s statement regarding Baltic.
“So what do you think?” I asked when I had finished.
She was silent a moment. “I think we need Aisling.”
“Oh? Why? There was no demon or anything like that where we’d need a Guardian.”
“No, but three heads are better than two, and she has a way of getting information out of Drake that just might be useful. If Baltic isn’t forthcoming about what Constantine said, I bet Aisling can worm it out of Drake.”
“Good point.”
She pulled out a cell phone and punched in a number, holding it up to her ear as she spoke. “Plus, she’s kind of tied in with all of this. Kostya is Drake’s brother, and since Baltic and Kostya were friends—before Kostya killed him, naturally—that gives her a sort of an in, if you will. Hi, Aisling? It’s May. Do you have time in the next few days to meet with Ysolde and me? She’s had another vision, and I think you’re going to want to hear about it. Hang on, let me put you on speaker so Ysolde can hear, too.”
She pressed a button and held the phone out between us.
“I’d be happy to see you both, but you are aware that the boys aren’t going to like it.”
“Quite aware,” I told the phone.
“OK. Just wanted to make that point. In fact, Drake has forbidden me to see you, Ysolde. He seemed to think May and I might have something up our sleeves to end this stupid war. Honestly, dragons. So suspicious.” The laughter in her voice had both May and me smiling, since we had intended to get together in the near future for just that purpose. “Let me look at my schedule to see when I can get away without Drake knowing. . . .”
After exactly five minutes to the second, we heard a commotion from the street and hurried around the house to find the two wyverns nose-to-nose, shouting in Zilant.
“Do you understand what they’re saying?” May asked me as we watched.
I listened for a minute. “Not a whole lot, but I think Gabriel just told Baltic his mother was an ass. Or possibly a porcupine. And that, I believe, was an invitation for Gabriel to conduct an act that is anatomically impossible.”
Baltic stopped in mid-insult to glare at me. Gabriel didn’t follow suit, although his dimples were nowhere in evidence when he held out his hand for May.
“You are finished?” Baltic asked sourly. He didn’t hold out his hand for me, but I went to his side regardless, knowing that his feathers had been severely ruffled.
“Yes, we are finished. Thank you for being so patient.” I leaned into him and smiled at Gabriel. “Please let us know if Brom goes over the line with his demands for trips to the British Museum. And thank you both for offering to have him despite the state of things. We’ll be back to get him on Sunday night. It was nice to see you all again.”
Baltic felt enough pleasantries had been exchanged and hustled me into the back of the car, which was illegally parked a few yards away. “That is enough, Ysolde. When we were planning this, you did not say you wished to conduct a social visit with the silver dragons.”
“Would you have agreed to one if I had?” I asked, curious.
“No.” He got in beside me, telling Pavel to drive on. “They declared war upon us. It is for them to ask us, not the other way around.”
“When did you say Thala resurrected you?”
He shot me a curious glance at the abrupt change of subject. “In 1971. Why?”
“Because for a man who’s forty years old, you sure do act like you were raised in the Dark Ages.”
“I was raised in the Dark Ages.”
“That was supposed to be sarcasm, Baltic.”
“I know what it was. I simply chose to ignore it,” he answered, taking my hand in his. I couldn’t help but smile. He was so bristly when it came to other dragons, and yet I knew how much he had suffered over the years. I figured he was due a few bristles now and again.
“Speaking of Thala, what’s the latest on your epic plan to spring her?”
Pavel gave a short bark of laughter as Baltic, with great relish, answered. “We have located her whereabouts at a house in West Sussex. Pavel will reconnoiter there this weekend, and then we will attack.”
I sighed. “I don’t suppose you would like to try to release her without violence?”
“That did not work, which you know since you insisted on holding talks with Drake Vireo regarding the subject.”
I paid little heed to the acid in his voice. “It’s worth trying to reason with Drake and the others again. After all, Gabriel did make an effort to be civil by inviting Brom to stay. Perhaps the wyverns are trying to offer an olive branch.”
“I doubt it.” The look he gave me said much. “I know you do not wish for this war, but it is not of our making. We have taken no actions against any member of the weyr.”
“Nor have they done so against us. Well, except for Kostya breaking your nose again last week, but that had more to do with the fact that you called him a ‘house-stealing, backstabbing, traitorous whoreson pain in the ass’ than with the war against us.”
Baltic rubbed his nose. “The fact remains that it is for them to call off the war and make the first move.”
I was silent, but my heart wept for the state of things between us and the weyr.
Baltic, ever sensitive to my moods, put his hand on my leg and gave it a reassuring squeeze. “If I were to tell you that we will kill as few dragons as is necessary to free Thala, would that make you happy again?”
“Oh, I know full well that despite your reputation as an unbridled maniac, you’re not a fan of killing just for the heck of it, but that isn’t my point. I don’t want anyone else to die, Baltic. That includes whatever guards Drake has put into place around your friend.”
“What would you have me do?” he asked, clearly exasperated.
“Well . . .” A thought occurred to me, one that would ease my conscience at the idea of sneaking around behind Baltic’s back and yet might well serve to achieve a much-desired end. “If you aren’t willing to talk with Drake and the other wyverns again about them releasing Thala, then perhaps I can. Or rather, perhaps I can talk to May and Aisling. And Cyrene, of course, although . . . did it seem to you that something was a little off in Kostya and Cyrene’s relationship when we ran into them last week?”
“Something is most definitely off with Kostya,” he growled.
I patted his knee. “Personal judgments aside, I got a feeling that we had interrupted an argument. I wonder . . . no, that doesn’t really matter. What was I saying? Oh, if I talk to Aisling and May about Thala, I’m sure I could get them to see reason. They don’t want a war any more than we do—wars are dangerous things, and they don’t want their respective loved ones in any danger. I’m willing to bet you that they can go a lot further in convincing their wyverns to release Thala than you can. After all, it was you the weyr was after, and now they’ve met you and seen you’re not the madman they thought you were, so they really have no reason to hold Thala prisoner.”
“I will not have you put in any danger,” he said stiffly.
“May and Aisling?” I asked, not bothering to finish the question.
He harrumphed. “I concede that neither of the mates is likely to harm you, but I do not trust the wyverns.”