Sparks Fly: A Novel of the Light Dragons

  Kostya sneered. “As if you could—”

  “What is going on, here? Are you having a party without me, my most beloved of all females?”

  “Oh, that’s all we need,” I said, sighing and moving over to take Baltic’s arm, when he turned toward the voice at the open doorway. “Constantine, you have the worst timing of anyone I know.”

  “Thank you,” he said, materializing just so he could grab my hand and press a wet kiss to it. “It warms me to my cods to know that you care.”

  “She does not care about you or your cods!” Baltic snarled, snatching my hand away from Constantine. “She cares only about me and mine!”

  “The current derangement of her mind is not as important a subject as one I have to impart to her regarding—godson!”

  Constantine evidently just noticed Kostya standing to the side, because he turned to him with delight written all over his face. “Now you cannot escape me. I will challenge you once and for all for my sept.”

  “You what?” Kostya asked, all astonishment.

  “I was the heir to the black wyvern before Toldi even met your mother. Thus, the sept is mine by rights. If you do not hand it over, I will challenge you for it, although I shouldn’t have to challenge anyone for what is mine.”

  “It is my sept,” Kostya said between grinding teeth. “I have no intention of letting you challenge me any more than Gabriel does, ghost.”

  “I am a shade, not a trivial, unimportant spirit,” Constantine said with much dignity, straightening his shoulders. “And you have no choice in the matter. By the laws that govern the sept, I, Constantine of Norka, do hereby issue a formal challenge of transcendence to Konstantin Nikolai Fekete, who falsely claims the title of wyvern of the black dragons. You will not refuse if you have even a shred of honor to your name.”

  “I have more than a shred, but I’m not going to fight you for my sept. You aren’t alive. You can’t be a wyvern,” Kostya said, looking somewhat pugnacious now. I couldn’t blame him for that—Constantine tended to have a one-track mind, and was currently clearly obsessed with the idea of fighting Kostya.

  “You are a base coward,” Constantine said in an obnoxious voice, waving a hand toward Baltic. “Baser even than Baltic, who at least was not afraid to fight me.”

  Baltic snarled something rude.

  “I’m not afraid of you,” Kostya said, looking irritated.

  “Oh, come on, Kostie—fight the ghost and then you’ll prove you’re the big bad wyvern,” Cyrene said, yawning and looking around the hall. “Which room did you say was mine, Ysolde? I’m a bit tired since the hotel was incredibly noisy.”

  “What is this?” Baltic asked me, just as I was about to tell Cyrene where Maura had been staying. “Mate, I insist you stop inviting everyone you meet to stay with us!”

  “I didn’t exactly invite her,” I said in a low voice.

  “Fine!” Kostya bellowed, drawing our attention back to the two men who stood toe-to-toe in the middle of the room. “I accept your challenge. You will meet me body to body. I name as a second…I name…er…” He looked around the room. His gaze lit on me for a second, and I thought he was going to demand I act as his backup for the challenge, but with an annoyed click of his tongue, he finished, “I name Baltic.”

  “What? You can’t name him,” I said, wrapping an arm around Baltic in case he was about to charge Kostya. “You guys don’t like each other.”

  To my absolute surprise, Baltic didn’t say anything right away. He looked hard at Kostya for a few seconds before his gaze shifted to Constantine. “I accept,” he said with a smile that had Constantine looking wary.

  “Good,” Constantine said with one last look at Baltic. “Then I name Ysolde as second.”

  “No,” Baltic snapped.

  “Why not?” Constantine asked.

  “Yes, why not?” I asked, prodding Baltic in the side. “I’ve never been a second before. It sounds rather dashing. I think I’d like to do it.”

  “A second must be prepared to fight in place of the principal,” Baltic answered, his eyes flashing something unreadable at me. “Constantine may not care if you are injured, but I do.”

  “Oh.” I thought for a moment, then nodded. “I’m sorry, Constantine. I don’t want to seem like a coward, but I wouldn’t be an effective second. Kostya doesn’t fight women, and he definitely wouldn’t fight me. That wouldn’t at all do if I was called upon to fulfill my duties as your second and fight in your place, and, of course, if Baltic was fighting for Kostya…well, you must see that it just wouldn’t work.”

  “Very well,” Constantine said with an annoyed sniff. He waved his hand toward Cyrene, who was looking somewhat bored. “I’ll take the naiad as my second.”

  “Me?” Cyrene squeaked. “But I’m a woman, too, and Kostya wouldn’t fight me.”

  “I’d make an exception for you,” Kostya told her with a grim smile.

  She looked indignant for a moment, then straightened her shoulders and gave Constantine a quick nod. “All right, I accept the position. I’ll be your second. But I get to beat the holy hell out of Kostya.”

  “The gloves are off now, I see,” I said softly, elbowing Baltic. “You needn’t look so anticipatory, my darling. I’m sure Kostya will have enough spleen venting to do on Constantine to make your assistance unnecessary.”

  “Kostya is weak. He will fall quickly to Constantine. I will not.”

  “We will conduct the challenge now,” Constantine announced with a grand gesture. “A body-to-body challenge can take many forms. Which do you choose, Kostya?”

  “Swords are always good,” Kostya answered, flexing his arms.

  “We don’t have any swords,” I said, distracted when Cyrene tugged on my sleeve and said, “I need a bath. Which room is mine?”

  “Second on the left. Bathroom is at the end of the hall.”

  “Thank you.” She sniffed and looked at Kostya. “Since you are being silly about this whole thing, and not letting me stay with you, as a mate should, then I will remain here with Ysolde. When you get over your little snit, you can find me here.”

  Kostya, who had been in the process of saying several snarky things to Baltic in Zilant, paused berating him to give Cyrene a dirty look. “That day will never come.”

  “We’ll see.” She sniffed again and moved toward the stairs.

  Kostya ignored her, saying to Baltic, “You overestimate your prowess, Baltic. As for your accusations, I have never failed a challenge. About Dauva—”

  “I do not care about Dauva—I care about the challenge,” Constantine interrupted.

  “Dauva will be rebuilt. I never overestimate anything, and you are tiring Ysolde. Leave, and take that with you.” Baltic gestured toward Constantine.

  “Your boorish manners do not offend me; I have long been used to them. And I cannot leave just yet. First, we must have the challenge. Following the reclamation of my sept, I have business with Ysolde,” Constantine answered, turning his charming smile upon me. “You will want privacy for what I have to tell you, my lovely one.”

  By dint of extreme control, I managed to keep from glancing at Kostya. “Oh. Um…yes. I’m sure we needn’t bore everyone else with such a trivial matter. There’s a small sitting room to the left. Why don’t we have our chat there now, and you can deal with the challenge later.”

  “Ysolde—” Baltic said warningly.

  I kissed his chin. “It’s all right; it’s just that little project I discussed with you earlier. There’s no need for your feathers to be ruffled.”

  “I am a dragon, not a bird. I have scales.” His phone buzzed at that moment. He glanced at it, frowned even more, then heaved a sigh. “I am wanted at Dauva. The builders need guidance. I will trust that you will not allow that murderous whoreson spirit to impose upon your gentle nature, mate, but I will also remind you that I do not like having him in our lives, and just as soon as you have used him, he must leave and not return.”

  “You can??
?t leave yet. We haven’t conducted the challenge, and I’m sure my godson will need you, given how ineffectual he appears,” Constantine said, swearing when he started to fade. “God’s toes, now you’ve made me use up almost all of my energy. Ysolde, most beloved of all dragons, let us go sequester ourselves away from this rabble, and we will conduct the challenge later, as you suggest.”

  “Wait a minute,” Kostya said, looking as if he wanted to throw a tantrum as Baltic started for the front door, Cyrene thumped her way up the stairs with a suitcase, and Constantine and I headed for the small, damp room off the main hall. “You can’t all just leave. I’m here to protest Baltic’s rebuilding on my land.”

  I paused at the door to the sitting room. “You just asked him to be your second. I hardly think it’s nice to ask a favor from him, and then make a fuss about his building on land that you don’t even own.”

  “The black dragons—” he started to say.

  “Have nothing to do with us,” Baltic said with finality. “Dauva was my home before I was wyvern, and it will be so again. If you wish to lead that pathetic group of stragglers you call a sept, then do so, but your choice of location does not impact us in any way.”

  Kostya clearly wanted to argue the point, but his grudging admittance of the truth—and the fact that Baltic walked out of the house—stymied that desire.

  “I still say Dauva should be left in the past, where it belongs,” he grumbled before turning on his heel and walking swiftly to the door.

  “Well, it’s not. And while we’re on the subject, let’s talk again about Dragonwood,” I yelled after him. His shoulder twitched as he left, but he didn’t respond. The rat.

  My hand was on the doorknob to the sitting room when my phone bellowed out my name. I glanced at the caller, answering it with a cheery, “Hello, Aisling.”

  “Hi, Ysolde. Has Kostya left yet?”

  “Er…yes, he just left. How did you know he was here?”

  “We’re keeping tabs on him. She says he’s gone, sweetie, so we can keep driving.”

  Curiosity got the better of me. “Where are you driving to?”

  “To see you, of course. But we didn’t want Kostya to know we’re in the area, because then he’ll want us to stay with him, and if we do that, he’ll tag along when Drake goes to the L’au-dela vault you mentioned, and that would just be all shades of awkward.”

  I shuddered at the thought. “It would indeed. But…um…I guess we can find room for you, although it may mean doubling up if Drake’s guards are with you.”

  “Oh, we’re not moving in!” Aisling gave a little laugh. “Drake takes security very seriously when it concerns the babies, so he rented us a house in the suburbs of Moscow. We just flew into Riga—it takes only two hours, which means we won’t have to leave the babies overnight—so that we could meet with you and get this shindig under way.”

  “Oh dear.” I panicked just a little bit.

  “We should be there in about half an hour. Drake insists that we take back roads so Kostya won’t see us.”

  “All right. How did you know he was here?”

  She giggled. “Drake is having him followed. For his own good, of course.”

  “Of course.” She hung up with another giggle, leaving me struck mute with mingled horror and worry.

  Pavel, who was on his way through the hall to one of the back rooms, paused as he strolled past me. “Are you all right? You look upset.”

  Slowly, I put my phone back into my pocket. “Drake and Aisling are on their way out to get some information from me, and I don’t have it.”

  “Information about what?”

  I hesitated, torn with conflicting emotions. I trusted Pavel completely, but his devotion and dedication to Baltic were absolute. It just wouldn’t be fair for me to tell him something he knew Baltic would be desirous of knowing but wouldn’t be able to impart. “If I said I couldn’t tell you, would you be annoyed?”

  “No.” He smiled suddenly. “Is it something that will enrage Baltic?”

  I couldn’t help but sigh. “I’m sure it will, although that’s not anyone’s intention. I’m just trying to fix things.”

  He inclined his head in a little bow. “Then I will wish you Godspeed. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

  “Other than spread dinner for another”—I counted mentally—“four people and one hungry demon, no. Plus Cyrene. And possibly Kostya, if he’s here for Constantine’s challenge.”

  Pavel’s mouth worked a couple of times before he said, “Constantine has challenged Kostya for the black dragon sept?”

  “Yes. Kostya named Baltic as his second.” I nibbled on my lower lip for a few moments. “Maybe I should make a few snacks for the prechallenge part of the evening—”

  “Ysolde!” An indignant Constantine appeared behind me, in the doorway. “You said you wish to have a tête-à-tête with me!”

  “My apologies,” I said, soothingly. “I was caught up in the thought of canapés. Pavel, can you—”

  “Holland will help me put together something, and do not worry about the dinner—it will be enough for everyone.”

  “Bless you,” I said, and meant it.

  Chapter Thirteen

  “Well, isn’t this…nice.”

  “Man, what a hole. And I thought Aisling used to stay in some crappy places.”

  “Jim!” Aisling stopped looking around the entryway of the house and whapped the demon on its head, giving me an apologetic smile in the process. “I’m sorry, Ysolde. Jim swore it was going to be on its best behavior, because it knows what will happen to it if it’s not.”

  The emphasis on the last few words was not lost on Jim, who winked at me. “Soldy knows I’m just teasing. It’s a great house if you like the Addams family. I especially like that tarantula over there in those cobwebs. Very atmospheric. Hey.” The demon sniffed the air a couple of times. “Is that dinner I smell?”

  “We are not staying for dinner,” Aisling said quickly, giving Jim a stern look before preceding me into the sitting room when I gestured toward it. “We just came to…er…you know.”

  “Of course you’re staying for dinner. Pavel’s cooking, and there’s plenty for everyone.”

  “Now, that’s what I’m talking about,” Jim said, plopping itself down on a couch before Aisling shoved its butt off and pointed to the floor.

  “Is Baltic here?” Drake asked as he followed us into the room, trailed by his two redheaded bodyguards.

  “He’s at Dauva, although”—I glanced at my watch—“he should be back in the next hour or so. Dragon’s blood, anyone?”

  I handed out the fiery drink at the polite murmurs of assent, pouring a bit of Perrier into a bowl for Jim.

  “Oooh, fancy, lemon slices,” it said, slurping at the water. “Any time you want to dump me on Solders and Baltic is fine with me, Ash.”

  “One more, and you’re out,” Aisling warned the demon.

  “Sheesh. Bully much?”

  “We would like to extend greetings to Pavel,” István said as I handed him a glass of the dragon’s blood wine. “Is it allowed that we do so?”

  “Of course. He’s in the kitchen, but I’m sure he would welcome the opportunity to exchange greetings with you, as well.” I made sure to keep my language as formal as István’s, despite the urge to giggle. So far as social niceties went, dragons preferred to cling to the old ways, and that meant elite guards of one wyvern had to present their greetings to the elite guards of other wyverns in a very formalized way.

  Pál and István took themselves off with a nod from Drake, who, after a somewhat scurrilous look at the battered and dismal couch that I hadn’t yet had time to replace, sat down next to Aisling.

  “So!” Aisling said brightly, leaning a bit into Drake as he put his arm across her shoulders. “Here we all are. Drake’s like a cat on a hot tin roof, just about dancing with anticipation, so the sooner he gets started on breaking into the sepulcher, the better.”

  ?
??Kincsem,” Drake said sternly, shooting her an emerald-eyed glare. “I am a wyvern. You do not tell people I dance over any emotion, and certainly not anticipation.”

  “My apologies.” She patted his leg, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Although you are an incredibly good dancer. That last dream you sent me, where you taught me to dance the sevillana, and you spun me around so hard my dress came off, and we ended up—er—yes. We’ll just leave it at you’re an excellent dancer.”

  “You have visions with Drake, too?” I asked in surprise, correcting myself when both Drake and Aisling turned startled faces to me. “That is, you have visions about your wyvern, too?”

  “They’re not really visions, no, not like that one you had at the sárkány, or a few months ago when you tried to stab Drake in that vision. Drake and I share an ability to have, for lack of a better term, lucid dreams. Extremely lucid dreams. So much so that—” Drake made an abbreviated gesture, causing Aisling to clear her throat. “Yes, well, we’ve strayed from the original point, which was that we are both very eager to undertake the job you spoke about. So, where is the sepulcher?”

  “Er…” My brain, normally a pretty reliable organ, just shrugged and told me I was on my own when it came to thinking up an excuse as to why I hadn’t yet found the location of the sepulcher. “That’s a really good question. And the answer is that…erm…Why don’t we save that discussion for after dinner?”

  They exchanged glances.

  “If you desire,” Drake said in a smooth voice, his fingers gently stroking Aisling’s shoulder in a way that had her shivering, and shooting him a heated look. “About the recompense you will be providing me for these services. I take it you have in your possession the valuable object that you indicated earlier?”

  “Not in so many words,” I said, thinking back to the hurried conversation I had had with Constantine a short while before. He’d assured me that he had found Kostya’s lair, and getting into it, and removing the shard, would be no problem. I had been obliged to persuade him that I needed it now, rather than waiting for him to take over the sept, when it would be his to hand over to me, but after a few minutes of persuasion, he had agreed to retrieve it. “But I should before tomorrow, assuming everything goes as planned.”