Page 23 of Light My Fire

“I believe I’m expected,” I told him.

  “Indeed, you are. I’m glad to see you have not suffered any harm,” a voice said behind my shoulder.

  I didn’t need to turn around to guess who was behind me. Cool fingers took my arm in a grip that was border line painful. “This is just not my day.”

  “Really?” Fiat looked me over. “Something is different about you. Did you have your hair done?”

  “Oh, for god’s sake!”

  “This garment is fetching, but I preferred the other.” Fiat considered me for another few seconds, then shrugged. “I do not understand why you have done what you have so obviously done, but it is of no matter to me. If you do not do exactly as I say, you will not live to see another day.”

  21

  I am, in general, an easygoing person. I try to take a reed-bending-with-the-wind attitude toward life, rather than fight everything. But these constant “out of the frying pan, into the fire, into a worse fire, into a worse fire than the worse fire before it” situations that had been riddling my life of late were beginning to wear me down.

  “Just once, I’d like something to go right for me!” I snapped as Fiat and his men surrounded me. I looked around for any green dragon help, but the lobby of the fencing club was empty.

  “If you do as I tell you, all will be right,” Fiat said softly in my ear.

  “Famous last words. You want to offer me a guarantee on my satisfaction?”

  Fiat laughed as he steered me up a staircase, Jim following. I was just formulating a plan whereby Jim attacked two of Fiat’s bodyguards while I went after him and the third one, but that idea died quickly.

  “It would not work, cara. You are physically tired, and Renaldo and I would easily overpower you, even assuming your demon could disable Pietro and his cousin Berto.”

  “No trespassing!” I growled, reinforcing the mental barriers to keep Fiat out of my mind. The fact that he’d slipped through them shook me more than I wanted to admit. Fiat on his own was dangerous enough—Fiat in possession of my thoughts just about made my blood run cold.

  “You make it so easy…ah. Here we are.” Fiat indicated a door. It looked like it led to a central court in the club. I waited until it was a few inches open, then screamed for all I was worth, the noise echoing off the high walls of the corridor into which we’d just stepped. Fiat caught the bulk of my scream in his right ear, but I didn’t feel any pity for him. He yelled as Renaldo jumped me, slamming a hand over my mouth, but it did little good.

  “Too late,” I mumbled beneath the hand over my mouth, recognizing the distant voice that bellowed my name. “Now you guys are really in trouble.”

  Fiat snapped out some orders. The men quickly surrounded me, Fiat pulling out of his jacket a small black case, the kind diabetics carry around. By the time Drake appeared in the far end of the corridor, shoeless, wearing pants and the green silk tunic he wore at official dragon functions, and holding a wicked-looking saber, Fiat had a good grip on my arm, his men hemming me in on all sides.

  Drake skidded to a stop at the end of the hallway, his eyes narrow as he looked over our little group. Behind him, Pál appeared, followed by a couple of dragons I didn’t recognize.

  “Aisling.” Drake lowered his sword and walked slowly toward us, a frown darkening his eyes. “Where have you been? And what are you wearing?”

  I pinched the back of Renaldo’s hand until he released his hold on my face. “To hell and back, but that’s a really long story, and not one I want to go into here. This is a curtain. I’d really rather not talk about it right now, either.”

  “Very well. We will leave the discussion of why you are clad in drapery for another time. The challenge has started.” He stopped ten feet away, still scowling at me. My lips twitched. Drake was deliberately ignoring Fiat, something I knew would irritate someone of his pride. “What is wrong with your eyes?”

  I touched the corner of my eye. “I don’t know. Is something wrong with them? I imagine they’re bloodshot as hell.”

  “They’re washed out, almost white.” Drake’s frown deepened. “You will tell me later what happened to your eyes, too. But now you will explain why, when you were expected to be present for the start of the challenge, you were not. Where is István?”

  “I have no idea. You’d have to ask my kidnapper that. Fiat?”

  Drake finally looked away from me to Fiat, his gaze steady, his face mirroring nothing more than mild annoyance. “I hadn’t expected to see you here, Fiat.”

  “I’m sure you didn’t, but as you see”—Fiat waved the small black case at our group—“here we are. I ran into Aisling earlier, and since I knew she would want to be here, I offered to provide her with safe transport.”

  “Oh, that’s a good one. Safe transport.” Jim snorted.

  “What did you do with István?” I asked Fiat.

  He waved a hand. “Your bodyguard took exception to us escorting Aisling here. Naturally, my men defended themselves against his attack.”

  My stomach, already twisted around on itself to a point where I doubted if it would ever again be normal, gave a lurch, my palms going slick with sweat. “What about Nora and Rene? What did you do to them?”

  “We had no issue with anyone else in the house,” he answered, relieving my mind on at least that point.

  Regardless, I was still worried sick about István. “Fiat, so help me god, if you’ve hurt István, I will see that you suffer as no dragon has ever suffered before.”

  “You need not worry,” Fiat said with a smile that made my bile rise. “He is no longer feeling any pain.”

  He patted the side of my face. I jerked my head away, rage filling me. With the rage came a familiar thick, black power. I pushed it back, pulling on Drake’s fire instead.

  Fiat burst into flames.

  “I expected better from you,” he said, shaking his head.

  I snarled something that wasn’t very anatomically possible and lunged toward him, Jim’s harsh bark echoing as the demon leaped forward. Fiat’s men grabbed me by the arms, holding me back.

  “What is going on here? Drake, I assume you are defaulting on the challenge since you do not have the stomach to fight me further.” Dmitri pushed his way forward through the people behind Drake, who continued to stand in a relaxed pose, leaning against the balustrade that ran around the upper hall.

  Drake looked from Fiat to Dmitri, then to me. “What do you want with my mate?” he asked, looking downright bored.

  I couldn’t keep from smiling. Damn, I loved that man. I loved the way he bluffed; I loved the way he assumed the world revolved around him; I even loved the natural arrogance that was part and parcel of his makeup. Any other man would be demanding that I be handed over, but not my Drake. He had to first establish that Fiat was nothing more than a minor irritation; then he’d get down to business.

  “It is as I have said—I have brought her to watch your challenge.”

  “Indeed. And what is your interest in a purely domestic matter?”

  Fiat laughed. “Purely domestic? If Dmitri wins his challenge, then the green dragons will have a new wyvern. That will affect all of the weyr. Naturally, we have an interest in what happens. All wyverns do.”

  “Odd that the other two wyverns don’t seem to share your level of interest,” Drake said, waving his sword toward the people behind us.

  “Do they not?” Fiat turned and looked behind him. “Perhaps you should inform our esteemed colleague.”

  “I’m sure Drake will understand just how important it is that a balance be maintained,” a man’s voice answered from behind Fiat’s men.

  Gabriel gave me a little smile as he joined us in the hall, the smile fading as he took in the expression on my face.

  Drake’s eyes showed surprise for a fraction of a second, gone so quickly that I wondered whether I really saw it. Certainly his face gave no indication that he was taken aback by the recreant nature of his supposed friend.

  I, however, had no s
uch reservations in making my feelings known. “What on earth are you doing with this snake in the grass?” I asked Gabriel, nodding toward Fiat.

  Jim snickered. Fiat’s eyes narrowed.

  “Something significant must have happened to you to change your eyes in that way,” Gabriel mused. He shook his head and answered my question. “I know it must look bad, but I assure you that I am not here to betray either you or Drake. Fiat asked me to be here to mediate only. Since I know there is increasing hostility between the blue and green septs, I felt it was appropriate that I be here. We do not need another sept at war.”

  That sounded far too pat for my liking, but there wasn’t much I could do until I saw exactly what Fiat wanted with me.

  “I am in the middle of a challenge,” Drake said, indicating Dmitri. “I cannot just set that aside to conduct negotiations with you that could well wait until morning.”

  Fiat made one of those elegant dragon bows. He didn’t do it as well as Drake, but then, no one did. “I did not intend to disrupt the challenge.”

  “Shyeah. And monkeys might fly out of my butt, but I’m not ordering up any monkey chow,” Jim said.

  Fiat spun around to glare at Jim, his hand upraised as if he was going to strike it.

  “Temper, Fiat. You wouldn’t beat up an innocent demon in front of so many witnesses, would you?” Somehow, I knew that it would matter to Fiat what people thought of him.

  He ground his teeth for a moment, then turned back to Drake. “We would be delighted to watch the challenge, if you do not object.”

  Drake was silent for a moment, his eyes flickering to me once before settling back onto Fiat. He waved toward the door he’d used to enter the hall. “Not at all. It is a straightforward-enough challenge, and not one that should take much longer. The points thus far have been to my advantage.”

  “Things change,” Dmitri said suddenly, a smile on his face that I wanted to wipe clean.

  “Come, mate.” Drake held out his hand for me. “Your place is with the sept.”

  “I think not,” Fiat said quickly, his hand hard on my arm as I took a step forward.

  Drake’s eyes narrowed. “You hold my mate hostage?”

  “Hostage is such a harsh word. Let us say instead that I am looking out for Aisling’s best interests. We will keep her safe while you determine the outcome to this challenge. After all, were you to lose, she would no longer be your mate, and who knows what evils your successor might inflict upon her.”

  I was speechless for a moment in the face of such absolute bull, but before I could rally my wits into responding to such an absurd statement, the third and final penny dropped.

  “You’re planning on using me to force Drake to lose, aren’t you?” I asked Fiat. “You want him to lose so a new wyvern will take his place, someone who has less honor and knowledge, and who could well turn out to be nothing more than your little puppet, right?”

  Dmitri, who had started back toward the practice room, spun around and spat out an unflattering word.

  Drake’s sword tip moved so fast, it was nothing but a silver blur. The point of it pressed against Dmitri’s pulse point on his neck. A thin line of blood appeared beneath it. “What did you say?”

  Anger, hatred, and impotent fury all took turns on Dmitri’s face. He swore, shoving the green dragon bystanders out of the way as he stormed back to the room.

  “Someone badly needs to spend some time in his happy place.” Jim’s voice broke the tension.

  I laughed at Fiat’s carefully masked expression. “Oh, come on, Fiat—don’t tell me you didn’t think this idiotic plan through. You’ve known Drake for what—a few hundred years? Do you seriously think he’s going to do something so asinine as to hand over his sept to someone else just for me?”

  Fiat just smiled. Drake said nothing, but I could see the tension in his hands. “That’s just about the most ridiculous thing I’ve heard today, and let me tell you, I’ve heard some pretty ridiculous things. The sept always has and always will come first to Drake. I know that. I accept that. You’re deluding yourself if you think it’s not true.”

  “I believe that the situation has changed now that you are breeding.”

  There were a number of surprised noises from the dragons behind Drake. I glared at Fiat. “I am not pregnant! And even if I were—and for the hundredth time this week, I’m not!—it still wouldn’t make a difference. Drake is wyvern of the green dragons. He will be wyvern until the day he decides he wants to pass the job on to someone else. Isn’t that right, Drake?”

  Drake looked at Fiat, not me. “The sept and Aisling are both mine. I will not give up either of them.”

  “We shall see,” was all Fiat said.

  Gabriel stepped forward, putting his arm around my shoulder. “I think it would ease everyone’s minds if I escorted Aisling to the challenge.”

  “Oh, don’t for one minute think I don’t have a thing or two to say to you,” I told him as he gently pushed me down the hallway. Drake stood to one side, waiting until we had passed before following. “Mediating is one thing, Gabriel. But this is not mediation. This is siding with Fiat for some bizarre reason. Do you really want to see Dmitri in Drake’s place?”

  “Of course not. If I thought that would happen, I would have done everything in my power to stop Fiat. But you have not considered all the possibilities as a good Guardian should.”

  “All the possibilities? What other possibilities are there?”

  He smiled, his dimples flaring. “Has it not occurred to you that a show of force by Drake will do much to weaken Fiat’s determination to war with him?”

  “Hmm.” I thought about that for a couple of seconds. He had a point. Perhaps Gabriel wasn’t the villain I’d begun to paint him.

  “I see you appreciate the fact that while Dmitri may have the letter of the green dragon law to back his claim to the position of wyvern, it has always been might that has held septs. Drake has shown time and time again that he has the might to keep the sept. He simply needs to remind Fiat of that. And this is a perfect opportunity for him to do so with little threat to himself or you.”

  It made sense, but it still left an unpleasant taste in my mouth. “You could have told us ahead of time what you were going to do.”

  “What makes you think I didn’t?” His dimples deepened. I recalled the night when Gabriel had healed my wound. Obviously, one of the things he’d spoken to Drake about after I left the room was this situation. No wonder Drake didn’t seem particularly disturbed about me being in Fiat’s power.

  But what about poor István? Was he in on it, too, or was he really dead? I had to know. If he was OK, then I could relax and just go along with things.

  “Jim?” I gestured for the demon walking slightly behind me. “Heel!”

  “For crap’s sake, it’s all I can do to walk missing three—that’s three—toes now!” Jim grumbled, but obeyed and scooted over next to me.

  “Would you like to go for four?”

  “Bah!”

  Gabriel laughed.

  “Sorry, demon and demon lord talk,” I told him, not wanting him to overhear what I was going to ask. “Would you think me horribly rude if I had a few minutes with Jim?”

  “Not at all.” He walked a few steps ahead of me, giving us a bit of privacy. Behind us, Drake, Fiat, and the rest of the dragons marched along in silence.

  “That time-and-space-ripping thing,” I asked Jim in a quiet voice. “Can I do that for you, too?”

  Jim shrugged. “You’re the boss. Pretty much whatever you want to do, you can do.”

  “Great. I want you to go to Drake’s house and look for István.”

  “Ew. What if his body is all bloody and stuff?”

  “There may not be a body. That’s what I want you to see—if he’s there, fine, or hiding or something.”

  “All right, but if anything exciting happens here and I miss it, I’m going to hold that against you for the rest of your existence.”

&n
bsp; I stopped in front of the door I’d spotted and smiled a toothy smile at all of the people behind me. “Bio break! Be right back.”

  Drake frowned as I grabbed Jim’s collar and dragged the demon into the ladies’ room with me. “What do you need—No. I don’t want to know.”

  “Smart man,” I said, blowing him a kiss as the door closed. I turned the lock and faced Jim. “Right, let’s do this.”

  I took a couple of deep breaths to clear my mind, focused on the thought of Drake’s house, and reaching out, selected the possibility that I wanted to use.

  Nothing happened.

  “Hmm. I don’t seem to be able to do it.” I tried again, with the same result.

  “That’s because you’re using dragon fire. This is a demon lord skill, Ash. You gotta use demon lord power to do it.”

  “No.” I shook my head. “I’m not using that dark power again. That stuff is bad, and if by some miracle my soul isn’t already damned for having inadvertently used it to banish Ariton, I’m not going to risk using it again. It’s evil.”

  “Power is power,” Jim said, putting its paws on the counter so it could check its teeth in the mirror. “It’s neither good nor bad. The person using it determines what it’ll be.”

  “Oh.” I thought about that for a few seconds. I wasn’t quite buying what Jim said—I’d felt that power, and there was evil in it—but perhaps I had the ability to neutralize the bad. I weighed the revulsion I felt at using dark power with the worry that István could be lying injured or dead somewhere, and decided I’d have to risk using it once more.

  “OK, once more. But just once more, and that’s it. I don’t want to take any chances.” I cleared my mind again, focused, and allowed myself to be filled with the thick, warm power that seemed to ooze up out of the floor to wash over me. A horrible ripping noise filled the small bathroom, echoing off the tile walls and floor as I rended time from space, tearing a hole big enough for Jim to pass through. Overhead, two of the lights went out. The rip was right next to a sink, causing it to fall to the floor in an explosion of porcelain on tile. Two pictures fell off the wall, as well as a chunk of ceiling tile.