Dragon Storm
Page 49
“Well, that solves one problem,” I murmured to Constantine. He gave a barely perceptible nod. “The big elephant in the room is how to keep Bael from taking the sword.”
The Venediger must have had very good hearing, because she gave a disgusted snort, her gaze holding Bael’s (something that gave me the willies just thinking about it). “He is mistaken if he thinks there is any way I would give the sword up to him. All mages swear an oath to protect it with their lives, and I will use every ounce of my powers to ensure its safety.”
Bael’s head snapped around to pierce her with his horrifying gaze. “If you desire it, then so shall it be.”
The Venediger didn’t even have time to scream—one minute she was standing there, bristling with anger, and the next, there was nothing but a pile of ash and a few bits of tattered yellow material.
“You monster!” I yelled, anger bursting to life within me. I had been sickened and saddened by the sight of Guillaume’s body, but to see a living, breathing human being suddenly and very literally turned to ash right before our eyes—my brain couldn’t cope with it. I started forward, no idea in my brain other than that I had to tell Bael what I thought of him, but I was stopped almost immediately.
Constantine grabbed my arm in a grip that I feared would leave a bruise, and shoved me toward Baltic and Ysolde. “Stay with them,” he ordered, not taking his eyes off of Bael.
“Oh?” Ysolde asked, her expression shifting momentarily from horror to speculation, but the hideousness of the moment quickly regained her attention.
Baltic raised one eyebrow, gave me a long look, and then flickered a glance at Constantine.
I desperately wanted to tell Constantine that we had to do something; we couldn’t allow the Venediger to be wiped out without so much as a second thought, but the weight of the ring on my finger reminded me that I had to think beyond my own desires.
With my gaze on the ashy remains of the Venediger, I scooped up Gary and moved over to stand next to Ysolde.
“You had no right to take her life,” Constantine said, his voice colder than the Arctic wind.
Bael looked mildly bored. “She threatened me. You all witnessed that.”
“She was defending herself,” Constantine snapped, his fire hot within us both. I swear his eyes were just about glowing. “You came here and slaughtered her minion, then stated your intention to take a relic important to mages, which you cannot even use. Of course she threatened you—anyone would, given that circumstance.”
“I do not need to explain myself to anyone, least of all you,” Bael said in his bored voice that said we were all tedious beyond belief.
“The entire Otherworld will seek justice for the death of the Venediger,” Baltic said.
“Given the threat you pose, I would not be surprised if Abaddon joined forces in order to contain you,” Constantine added.
I wondered for a moment why the two men were baiting Bael, but realized they were simply trying to get him to retreat. I’d rather we tackled him right then and there, with the remains of two people who had been alive a half hour before, than wait until a later time. It struck me that I wasn’t feeling just my own desire to make Bael pay for his actions, but also Constantine’s. And that was a bit shocking in itself—at what point had I become so in tune with him?
Bael’s lip curled. “I will soon rectify the situation with Abaddon, of that you can be sure. Asmodeus possesses a ring that I desire, and I make it a policy to obtain that which I seek.”
I hid my ring-bearing hand behind my back, almost sick with fear that Bael would somehow sense it was here.
“You will not get the light sword,” Constantine said, moving to stand beside Baltic. “The demons at the front of the building will already have caused alarms to be set off around Paris—reinforcements will already be en route.”
“Demons?” Bael’s face showed an emotion at last, one of speculation, but it was gone almost immediately. “Those of Asmodeus, I assume. They are of little concern and will soon no longer exist.”
I bit my lip to keep from blurting out something rude.
“Regardless of your idle threats, your presence here is doomed.” It was Constantine’s turn to sound bored, although I could feel by the tension running through him that he was barely restraining himself. “Stay, if you wish, but you will bring upon your head your own destruction.”
“Don’t be tedious—” Bael started to say, his voice dripping unconcern, but at that moment, Constantine lunged at his father, a massive ball of fire preceding him that slammed Bael through the wall and into the next room.
Baltic leaped to the side, snatched up the shiny sword from the safe, and with a yell of warning tossed it to Constantine. He reached back into the safe to grab something else, but by then, Bael threw himself into the room, his face a vision of wrath that I swear took a few years off my life just to witness.
“Constantine! Run! Don’t let him get the sword!” I yelled, trying to get around Baltic, who now took up a stance in front of Ysolde and me. The latter was muttering to herself, clearly drawing on some inner power to cast a spell.
“Yes,” Bael said, in a voice so horrible it caused little cracks to appear in the walls. His head lowered, but his eyes were firmly fixed on Constantine. “Run away, Constantine. You of all dragons know what will happen if you try my wrath. Or do you care so little that you are willing to risk the lives of everyone here?”
In a move that showed more bravery than I thought possible, Constantine took up a fighting stance and gave his sword a twirl that was pure bravado. “You cannot fight us all and win, Bael. Not in your weakened state. Leave us, if not in peace, then at least with your pride intact.”
Ysolde sucked in her breath at the brash words.
“Golly!” Gary whispered, his eyes round, his expression one of utter admiration. “He’s really wonderful, isn’t he?”
I shook my head. “Wonderful, but foolish. He needs to get the sword out of here, not stand up to his father.”
“Father?” Ysolde goggled at me, then gazed at Constantine. “He’s Bael’s son? Did you know this, Baltic?”
“Yes,” he answered, his body tense with anticipation. In his right hand he held the small cerise-colored jewel. I wondered why he wasn’t doing something to help Constantine, since obviously it would be better for everyone to keep Bael from gaining the power the sword held. “I am aware of most of the offspring of my brothers.”
The Venediger must have had very good hearing, because she gave a disgusted snort, her gaze holding Bael’s (something that gave me the willies just thinking about it). “He is mistaken if he thinks there is any way I would give the sword up to him. All mages swear an oath to protect it with their lives, and I will use every ounce of my powers to ensure its safety.”
Bael’s head snapped around to pierce her with his horrifying gaze. “If you desire it, then so shall it be.”
The Venediger didn’t even have time to scream—one minute she was standing there, bristling with anger, and the next, there was nothing but a pile of ash and a few bits of tattered yellow material.
“You monster!” I yelled, anger bursting to life within me. I had been sickened and saddened by the sight of Guillaume’s body, but to see a living, breathing human being suddenly and very literally turned to ash right before our eyes—my brain couldn’t cope with it. I started forward, no idea in my brain other than that I had to tell Bael what I thought of him, but I was stopped almost immediately.
Constantine grabbed my arm in a grip that I feared would leave a bruise, and shoved me toward Baltic and Ysolde. “Stay with them,” he ordered, not taking his eyes off of Bael.
“Oh?” Ysolde asked, her expression shifting momentarily from horror to speculation, but the hideousness of the moment quickly regained her attention.
Baltic raised one eyebrow, gave me a long look, and then flickered a glance at Constantine.
I desperately wanted to tell Constantine that we had to do something; we couldn’t allow the Venediger to be wiped out without so much as a second thought, but the weight of the ring on my finger reminded me that I had to think beyond my own desires.
With my gaze on the ashy remains of the Venediger, I scooped up Gary and moved over to stand next to Ysolde.
“You had no right to take her life,” Constantine said, his voice colder than the Arctic wind.
Bael looked mildly bored. “She threatened me. You all witnessed that.”
“She was defending herself,” Constantine snapped, his fire hot within us both. I swear his eyes were just about glowing. “You came here and slaughtered her minion, then stated your intention to take a relic important to mages, which you cannot even use. Of course she threatened you—anyone would, given that circumstance.”
“I do not need to explain myself to anyone, least of all you,” Bael said in his bored voice that said we were all tedious beyond belief.
“The entire Otherworld will seek justice for the death of the Venediger,” Baltic said.
“Given the threat you pose, I would not be surprised if Abaddon joined forces in order to contain you,” Constantine added.
I wondered for a moment why the two men were baiting Bael, but realized they were simply trying to get him to retreat. I’d rather we tackled him right then and there, with the remains of two people who had been alive a half hour before, than wait until a later time. It struck me that I wasn’t feeling just my own desire to make Bael pay for his actions, but also Constantine’s. And that was a bit shocking in itself—at what point had I become so in tune with him?
Bael’s lip curled. “I will soon rectify the situation with Abaddon, of that you can be sure. Asmodeus possesses a ring that I desire, and I make it a policy to obtain that which I seek.”
I hid my ring-bearing hand behind my back, almost sick with fear that Bael would somehow sense it was here.
“You will not get the light sword,” Constantine said, moving to stand beside Baltic. “The demons at the front of the building will already have caused alarms to be set off around Paris—reinforcements will already be en route.”
“Demons?” Bael’s face showed an emotion at last, one of speculation, but it was gone almost immediately. “Those of Asmodeus, I assume. They are of little concern and will soon no longer exist.”
I bit my lip to keep from blurting out something rude.
“Regardless of your idle threats, your presence here is doomed.” It was Constantine’s turn to sound bored, although I could feel by the tension running through him that he was barely restraining himself. “Stay, if you wish, but you will bring upon your head your own destruction.”
“Don’t be tedious—” Bael started to say, his voice dripping unconcern, but at that moment, Constantine lunged at his father, a massive ball of fire preceding him that slammed Bael through the wall and into the next room.
Baltic leaped to the side, snatched up the shiny sword from the safe, and with a yell of warning tossed it to Constantine. He reached back into the safe to grab something else, but by then, Bael threw himself into the room, his face a vision of wrath that I swear took a few years off my life just to witness.
“Constantine! Run! Don’t let him get the sword!” I yelled, trying to get around Baltic, who now took up a stance in front of Ysolde and me. The latter was muttering to herself, clearly drawing on some inner power to cast a spell.
“Yes,” Bael said, in a voice so horrible it caused little cracks to appear in the walls. His head lowered, but his eyes were firmly fixed on Constantine. “Run away, Constantine. You of all dragons know what will happen if you try my wrath. Or do you care so little that you are willing to risk the lives of everyone here?”
In a move that showed more bravery than I thought possible, Constantine took up a fighting stance and gave his sword a twirl that was pure bravado. “You cannot fight us all and win, Bael. Not in your weakened state. Leave us, if not in peace, then at least with your pride intact.”
Ysolde sucked in her breath at the brash words.
“Golly!” Gary whispered, his eyes round, his expression one of utter admiration. “He’s really wonderful, isn’t he?”
I shook my head. “Wonderful, but foolish. He needs to get the sword out of here, not stand up to his father.”
“Father?” Ysolde goggled at me, then gazed at Constantine. “He’s Bael’s son? Did you know this, Baltic?”
“Yes,” he answered, his body tense with anticipation. In his right hand he held the small cerise-colored jewel. I wondered why he wasn’t doing something to help Constantine, since obviously it would be better for everyone to keep Bael from gaining the power the sword held. “I am aware of most of the offspring of my brothers.”
