Me and My Shadow

  “You’ve got dark powers,” Magoth said finally, just a split second before realization struck him.

  “Oh, god, no,” I murmured, wanting to slip into the shadow world. I contented myself with slumping over and dropping my forehead to my hands.

  “Hoo, boy, now it’s gonna hit the fan,” Jim said, sauntering over to me. “Man, Ash, I said ‘it,’ not the other word. Stop looking at me like that!”

  “You have my powers!” Magoth bellowed, his fingers flexing as he stalked stiff-legged toward me. The dragon shard, riled up already, tried to push me toward him. “You treacherous little bitch! You thieving, conniving, despicable little two-timing backstabber.” The words evidently struck him, for he paused for a moment before suddenly throwing himself at my feet, prying one of my hands off my head and clutching it in order to press chilled, wet kisses to it. “Fire and brimstone! You are the most perfect woman I’ve ever met!”

  “Oh, god,” I said again, head still in my remaining hand, squelching down hard on the shard. I would not give in to it. I had fought it and won, and I would continue to fight it.

  Jim smirked. “Oh yeah. Nothing turns on a demon lord more than a touch of maleficence. Nicely done, May.”

  “Oh god, oh god, oh god,” I moaned into my hand.

  “I knew one day you would admit that you wanted me,” Magoth said, still pressing slobbery kisses onto my knuckles. “You’ve made me the happiest demon lord on earth. Take me, my adorably evil one. Take me like a two-bit gigolo! Ride me like a rented mule! Bitch slap me as you’ve never bitch slapped before! Only with your tail, because you know how much I love that.”

  “I believe that will be enough,” Drake said, taking charge of the situation.

  Magoth glared over his shoulder at the wyvern. “Who are you?”

  “Drake Vireo, wyvern of the green dragons, and the owner of this house. I am also a friend to Gabriel, and I can assure you he would not appreciate you wiping your lips all over his mate’s hands.”

  Magoth got to his feet, still holding my hand, tossing his head and leveling Drake a look that had intimidated many a minion over the centuries. “She is my consort. I have the right to put my lips wherever I like on her, dragon.”

  “No, you don’t,” I said, finally managing to get my hand free from his grip. I shoved him none too gently aside. “You divorced me several weeks ago.”

  He donned a sultry pout. “I didn’t mean it. I was angry. Besides, it takes more to divorce a consort than simply saying you want to divorce her.”

  “Such as?” I asked.

  “Death,” Nora said.

  Aisling nodded. “Banishment works, too, although that’s trickier to pull off, since technically the banishee is still alive.”

  “There is also a repudiation ceremony,” Nora continued as she eyed Magoth. He gave her a quick leer, then snatched up my hand again, rubbing my knuckles in a way that made my teeth grind. “But as that requires the sacrifices of fifteen virgin souls, it’s not often done.”

  “Aisling did it with chickens one time,” Jim piped up.

  I stared at her in surprise.

  “Bael didn’t specify who the souls had to belong to,” Aisling said with a nonchalant gesture. “I thought roast chickens were ideal because they were an answer to his demands, and dinner, all in one.”

  “It’s a dessert topping! It’s a floor wax!” Jim said. “It’s the answer to all your demon lord problems!”

  “No more Saturday Night Live reruns for you,” Aisling told it firmly.

  “So what you’re saying is that I’m stuck with him?” I asked Nora.

  “What is going on over here? Who is this dark and compelling man who wears the tight breeches?” Catalina demanded to know as she and Kaawa came over to join the fun. She eyed Magoth as if he were a piece of candy being offered to her.

  He didn’t so much as throw a glance her way.

  “This is Magoth, my . . . er . . . for lack of a better word, boss,” I said, introducing her. “Magoth, this lady is Drake’s mother, doña Catalina de Elférez.”

  “I have no interest in other women now that you have shown your true colors to me, my dark and deadly one,” Magoth murmured as he sucked my knuckles.

  I tried to wrench my hand free. He just dug his fingers in harder, sending me a smoldering look.

  “He smells like the demons,” Catalina said, strolling around behind him to get a look at the rear view. “He has magnificent buttocks, though.”

  Magoth stopped sucking my knuckle to turn and look at her.

  She ogled his pants for a moment. “Very tight breeches. I like tight breeches.”

  “Mother,” Drake said, with a look on his face that spoke volumes.

  “Do not mind him,” Catalina said, her eyes half-shut as she gave Magoth a come-hither look. “He does not like to think of his mama having lovers. But I am different. You remind me a bit of my husband. Drake, does he not look like your accursed father?”

  “No,” Drake said adamantly at the same time Magoth pounced on a word I knew he would enjoy.

  “Accursed?” he asked, giving Catalina a return ogle. “You have the unmistakable aura of one who truly understands the needs and desires that all demon lords feel. Tell me, my Spanish beauty, how do you feel about restraints with regards to lovemaking?”

  “They are most necessary,” she said with a little shrug. “How would you be able to torment your partner if he could stop you?”

  Magoth dropped my hand and all but shimmied over to her, pressing his lips to her palm. “I like how you think, my exotic little olive. And nipple clamps? Your opinion on them?”

  “Again, necessary,” Catalina said. “Although I prefer piercings to clamps. Much more reliable when used for leashing purposes.”

  A little shudder of ecstasy shook Magoth as his tongue swept out over her palm. “You are a woman who knows her pleasures.”

  “Stop licking my mother!” Drake demanded, and looked like he was going to use bodily force to stop Magoth.

  “Words I never thought I’d hear,” Jim snickered.

  “On the other hand, whips are overrated,” Catalina volunteered. “A cat, however . . .”

  Magoth trembled, his eyes closing for a moment. “One with hundreds of tiny little barbs?”

  “Excellent for ensuring that you have your partner’s full attention,” she agreed.

  “Dear heaven, what hath we wrought?”Aisling asked, gesturing to Drake, who assisted her to her feet. “Potty break. Be back in a minute. Or maybe longer if they’re going to go into any more specifics. Jim, heel.”

  “What? Hey! I wanna watch and see if Magoth is gonna pork Drake’s mom—”

  The door closed on the demon’s objections.

  Kaawa, who had been standing watching the scene with a slight smile, met my gaze. “Perhaps now would be a good time for us to discuss what you will need to do to re-form the dragon heart.”

  “Absolutely,” I said, with heartfelt appreciation at the suggestion. Anything that got me out of Magoth’s way was going to have my full approval. “Drake, I hate to disturb you when you’re busy scowling at Magoth, but is there a room we can use?”

  “Mother!” Drake said a bit more forcefully, his green eyes glittering at Magoth, who, I’m sure it need not be said, totally ignored him. “You will remember your agreement—you may stay here so long as you do not upset Aisling.”

  “She’s not even in the room,” Catalina cooed, biting Magoth’s ear.

  “You know what I mean.”

  I tugged on Drake’s sleeve until I had his attention, saying softly, “He can’t hurt your mother, can he? I mean that since she’s a wyvern’s mate, she’s immortal, correct?”

  “Immortal, yes. Possessing good taste?” He turned back to glare at Magoth. “Clearly she’s failed in this regard.”

  “Then if you don’t mind, I’d appreciate it if you let them . . . er . . . for lack of a more circumspect phrase, go at it.”

  Drake looked at m
e in surprise. Kaawa hid a little chirrup of laughter behind her hand as she pretended to cough.

  “It will keep him off my back while I learn what I need to do with the shards,” I explained.

  He didn’t like it, but in the end, Aisling helped me persuade him that they couldn’t do any harm to each other.

  “Things are starting to get a bit tight around the seams, but I think we can squeeze you in,” Aisling said to Kaawa as we slowly made our way upstairs. “There’s one last room free, although it’s not normally one I’d put a guest in, especially such a distinguished guest as Gabriel’s mom.”

  “Psht,” Kaawa said, waving away the apology. “I spend most of my days out in the bush, so a soft bed and a roof over my head will be a luxury.”

  “There’s the problem of Magoth, though,” Aisling said, her forehead wrinkling.“I’m afraid we’re fresh out of rooms. I suppose he could sleep on the sofa or something.”

  “He will not sleep here,” Drake said decisively from behind her, giving her a little boost to make it up the last few steps. “I will not have a demon lord in the same house as you while you are in such a delicate state.”

  She spun around so quickly she whomped him with her belly. “I’m hardly delicate, Drake. I’m as big as a leviathan, and twice as ungainly.”

  “Three times, actually,” Jim said, eyeing her. “You know, it’s actually a wonder you can fit through a door with that thing. I wonder if you’ll just keep growing until one day you explode.”

  “May I?” I asked Aisling as she stopped in front of a door.

  “Please do.”

  “Do what?” Jim asked, its eyes suspicious. “Ow! Ow, ow, ow! Someone call the demon-abuse hotline! I’m being abducted by a sadistic doppelganger!”

  I grabbed Jim by one fuzzy black ear and hauled it upstairs with me to my room. There I lectured it again about inappropriate comments to Aisling.

  “No one around here can take a joke anymore,” it grumbled when I was done. “I didn’t mean she was really going to explode.”

  “Perhaps not, but she’s more worried than she lets on about the baby taking its time, so you just lighten up with the explosive comments,” I said, patting it on the head. Jim was fond of Aisling, I knew, and wouldn’t really want to hurt her, but obviously had not been as observant as it might have been. “Go watch some movies or something, but watch the cracks to Aisling about the baby.”

  “Aw, do I have to? I want to hear how to re-form the dragon heart,” it said as I ushered Kaawa into a small upstairs sitting room that Drake had told us we could use. It was dark and slightly musty-smelling, as if it hadn’t been occupied much.

  “Why on earth would you want to do that?” I asked, opening the curtains.

  Jim shrugged. “You never know when something like that might come in handy.”

  I glanced at Kaawa.

  “I don’t mind if the demon stays,” she said, watching Jim closely. “It appears to be one of the rare sixth-class demons, and thus should not pose a hazard to you.”

  “It’s not me I’m worried about,” I said, wondering what sorts of powers a demon in possession of the dragon heart would be able to wield. The thought left me a bit sick to my stomach, so I moved on.

  The following two hours were spent learning the steps of the ceremony to decant the shard, most of which was rote memorization of a couple of incantations. The language the incantations were spoken in was Zilant, a Slavic language that all dragons learned early on, and that, until recent centuries, had been the common language between the septs. I’ve never been much of a linguist, and it took me several tries, aided by copious notes, before I felt comfortable conducting the invocation that would separate the shard from my body, and allow it to re-form the dragon heart.

  “Where did you learn all this?” I asked as I closed the notebook in which I’d been making notes. “Gabriel said you were very learned in dragon lore, but I’m surprised you know so much about something so outside of your normal interests.”

  She smiled, and continued to rub Jim’s belly as she had been doing for the last half hour. The demon was on its back, legs kicking gently in the air, soft little half moans, half snores of pleasure coming from its furry black lips as it slept. “You know of Ysolde de Bouchier.”

  I nodded. “You’ve mentioned her before. She left some notebooks behind about her experiences with the shard after she became a phylactery, right?”

  “That is correct.”

  “That’s reassuring. If the invocation worked for Ysolde, it’s a sure thing to work for me. Despite the interesting experience of turning into a dragon, there’s nothing I want more than to get rid of the shard.”

  Her eyes widened slightly. “I did not mean to imply that the invocation was foolproof, wintiki. There is still a very large element of the unknown to the process of re-forming the heart. Much of what I’ve told you is speculation.”

  “But you had Ysolde’s notebooks,” I said, suddenly worried. I had assumed all along that I would be able to get rid of the shard. But what if I couldn’t? What if I was stuck with it? Forever?

  My stomach dropped at the thought.

  “Yes, but they did not provide a detailed step-by-step guide to ridding oneself of a dragon shard. They merely gave information about what Ysolde herself did, and what sorts of things could happen should one try to re-form the heart, or use the shards by themselves.”

  My heart sank to join my stomach. “So you don’t have any idea if the ceremony is going to work?”

  She shook her head, sympathy rich in her eyes and face. “I wish there was a foolproof method, but we are talking about the dragon heart. It is not controlled, never controlled. If it wishes you to, it will allow you to use it, but never against its wishes.”

  “You speak of it as if it’s alive,” I said, gently touching the mark on my chest where the shard had entered my body.

  She smiled. “It has powers, little night bird. It may not be alive in the sense that you are alive, but it is sentient. It will not allow you to use it if it does not approve of you, or the use to which you wish to put it.”

  “Well, great. Here I am trying to get rid of this shard, and it’ll probably go tell the rest of them what a horrible person I am, and they’ll all refuse to re-form.”

  She laughed and patted my hand as she stood up, much to Jim’s unhappiness. “It is not that you have to worry about.”

  “Oh really?” I caught something in her tone that made me uneasy. “Is there something else I should be worrying about?”

  She hesitated a second before saying no.

  “Kaawa,” I said, rising as she reached for the door.

  She stopped, her shoulders slumping for a moment before she turned back to face me with a perfectly innocent expression. “Yes, wintiki?”

  “I appreciate you trying to protect me, but I assure you I can take care of myself. Gabriel knows that. That’s why he’s not fussing around while I take care of this. So if there’s a danger involved—other than the obvious one of being vulnerable while the decanting and re-forming processes are going on—I’d really appreciate you telling me what it is, so I can be ready for it.”

  Her hesitation and concern were almost palpable, making me worry anew.

  “I would not for the world insult you, May, and I would never hide something that you could use to protect yourself.”

  “But?” I asked, waiting for her to finish.

  “But you possess many qualities of humans, and not so many of dragons.” She looked away, obviously not wanting to meet my gaze.

  I went over everything she had told me about the shards, everything that Ysolde de Bouchier had done . . . and enlightenment dawned.

  “Kaawa?”

  She held on to the door as if she wanted to escape. “Yes, child?”

  “Did Ysolde disappear immediately after she re-formed the dragon heart, or did she vanish when Baltic died?”

  Her dark eyes, rich as mahogany, and filled now with sadness, stu
died mine. “We don’t know. It’s . . . it was a confusing time, you must understand. Three things apparently happened at the same time: the black dragon heir killed his wyvern, Ysolde re-formed the heart and sharded it into their phylacteries, and the silver dragon wyvern disappeared.”

  A few seconds of digging around in my memory pulled up a name. “Constantine Norka? Wasn’t he also supposed to be mated to Ysolde?”

  She was silent a few moments, her fingers absently rubbing on the edge of the door. “No one knows for certain what happened. Until now, it was thought all were dead, but with Baltic having returned, perhaps he could clear it up and tell us what exactly did transpire.”

  I almost snorted at the thought of Baltic doing anything but spouting mysterious, ambiguous comments. “I’m not going to hold my breath waiting for him to explain. So basically, the theory is that she was either Baltic’s mate or Constantine’s, and when they died, she died, too? Or was it the dragon heart that did her in?”

  “We don’t know,” she said, looking even sadder. “Her diaries don’t say.”

  I swallowed back my fear. “You’re a shaman, Kaawa. You see things that most people can’t even imagine exist. You can look into the shadows, look past time and space. What do you think happened?”

  Her fingers tightened on the door. “That is not a wise question to ask, wintiki.”

  “Unwise because you don’t wish to answer it, or because I won’t like what you have to say?”

  “Perhaps both.”

  I looked at my hands for a moment, absorbing what she hadn’t said. “You think the dragon heart killed Ysolde.”

  “No.”

  I glanced up.

  “I think it used her up,” she said. “I think—I have no proof, mind you; this is all simply speculation—but I think that Constantine Norka tried to save her, and was destroyed along with her.”

  “Would the dragon heart do that to dragons?” I asked, sick at the thought of risking Gabriel. I knew without the slightest doubt in my soul that he would sacrifice himself to save me.

  “It has the power to destroy the entire weyr,” she said wearily. “Perhaps even the mortal world.”