Dragon Storm
Page 71
“It takes a while to get from Australia to France,” Aisling told him. “Gabriel, being a dragon, hates portals, and May said they had some sept business to wrap up, so they’ll be here tomorrow.”
“You all have shards. If we bring them together, it will be enough to summon the First Dragon.”
To a man, the three wvyerns pursed their lips and looked unwilling to help. It took a solid half hour of arguing, wheedling, and downright demands by the women involved (myself included) to get them to agree to it.
I figured the ceremony of bringing the First Dragon to us would be something that took place late at night, in a secluded wood, or some other such dramatic setting. As it was, all that happened was Drake left to go to another room, returning with a wooden box. Kostya reached a hand into his inner pocket and withdrew a leather pouch. And Baltic gestured at Ysolde, who pulled on a chain around her neck, tugging up a small glass vial that hung next to a silver pendant.
“You had them with you all along?” I asked, all shades of incredulous. “You made us go through all that, and you guys had them on you? What the hell, people? What the serious hell?”
“Abaddon,” Gary corrected, receiving a paws-up from Jim.
I gave him a look that had him backing his truck away from me.
Constantine took the shards from each of the wyverns, held them in his hands, and said simply, “Father of all dragons who ever was, who are, and who will be, we summon you.”
The air in front of Constantine shimmered a little, like it was made of water, then did an odd ripple that resolved itself into the shape of a man.
I say man, but really, it wasn’t a man. Oh, he looked perfectly normal. He had two arms, and legs, and hands and eyes, and everything that a normal man has… but there was something about his eyes that wasn’t quite normal. For one, the color of his irises was kind of an old gold that appeared to be splattered with red and black and silver. His pupils were slightly elongated, not quite like a cat’s, but not round like they should be. And then there was the air of something… other… that surrounded him.
Even the look of surprise on his face when he saw Constantine was slightly off.
“Constantine. Was I mistaken in thinking you died some five centuries ago?”
“No. I was resurrected by Ysolde.” Constantine gestured behind the First Dragon, who kept his eyes firmly on his grandson.
“Ah, you are a spirit.” His gaze shifted to me for a few moments. I felt myself blushing, although I couldn’t think of why I’d do such a thing. “And you have a mate. How interesting.”
Not good, or yay for you, just interesting. I started to think that the First Dragon was a bit of a jerk.
“Ysolde is here?” The First Dragon turned around slowly, smiling at Ysolde, who summoned up a welcoming smile of her own. “My child, you look as charming as ever. Baltic is here, too, I see.”
“Yes,” Baltic said ungraciously. He looked sour and annoyed as hell to see his demigod parent. I wanted to hug him at that moment. “I’m here. For the record, I was against Constantine calling you.”
“It’s nice to see you, too,” the First Dragon said with a little quirk to his lips that had my irritation easing a smidgen. He glanced around at the others. Drake and Kostya both made low bows to him, murmuring something about it being an honor to see him.
“Why have you summoned me?” the First Dragon asked.
“It’s Kashi,” Constantine said abruptly.
The expression on the First Dragon’s face went from mild amusement to absolutely nothing. In fact, it felt like everything in the world was holding its breath, waiting for a reaction.
“That name has no meaning,” the First Dragon said slowly, turning back to face us.
“Bael, then. He has tried to destroy the dragonkin for the last two years, but only recently was released from where he’d been held in the Akasha. And now he is gathering power, more power than he ever had before, and he intends on wiping us out.”
The First Dragon’s eyelids drooped.
Constantine took a deep breath. “I tried to eliminate him in the past and failed. And now he is too strong, and will grow stronger with each passing day. We need your help in destroying him.”
“What call does a demon lord have on me?” the First Dragon asked in a very neutral voice.
“He is your son,” Baltic said.
“He is not.” The First Dragon’s gaze slid to Baltic for a few moments. “Do not think because you are a favored child that I will involve myself in your business. I did so in the past because I wished to see your line continue. Nothing more.”
“Should I point out that you haven’t even asked how Alduin is doing?” Ysolde asked with a touch of asperity.
The corners of his mouth twitched. “Do you truly believe that I am unaware of him? And of you?”
Ysolde flapped her hands around vaguely. “Touché. He’s well, by the way. As we all are, all the dragons, now that the curse that your other son placed on us has been lifted by Constantine and Bee.”
“Baltic,” the First Dragon said wearily. “Your mate—”
“I know,” Baltic interrupted, holding up his hand. “She never has displayed reverence for that which deserves it, but that does not lessen her charms.”
“I love you, too,” Ysolde told him, kissing his cheek. “Even if your dad is a pain in the—” She stopped and smiled brightly at the First Dragon.
The First Dragon came close to rolling his eyes, I swear he did, but evidently demigods have a standard to maintain, and he managed to simply lift a hand in a graceful gesture of refusal. “This fight you speak of is not mine.” His gaze dropped onto Constantine. “Nor is it yours alone, Constantine of Norka. It is not the fight of the dragonkin—you have work to do, yes, but others must do what you cannot. Only one who is mortal-born can defeat a demon lord. So it is, and so it has always been.”
“Who?” I couldn’t help but ask, driven to it by frustration. The man was a friggin’ god, for cripes sake! Why wouldn’t he just step in and stomp his former son to smithereens? “What mortal? And how is he or she supposed to defeat Bael to begin with? Constantine’s tried, and if he couldn’t do it, I don’t understand how a mortal is supposed to do it.”
“And that will be your failing if you do not correct it,” the First Dragon told me. He started to fade, just like he was made up of millions of tiny light particles that began to go out. “Seek a warrior, one who can undo that which gives Bael strength. Only then will you restore the weyr.”
“You all have shards. If we bring them together, it will be enough to summon the First Dragon.”
To a man, the three wvyerns pursed their lips and looked unwilling to help. It took a solid half hour of arguing, wheedling, and downright demands by the women involved (myself included) to get them to agree to it.
I figured the ceremony of bringing the First Dragon to us would be something that took place late at night, in a secluded wood, or some other such dramatic setting. As it was, all that happened was Drake left to go to another room, returning with a wooden box. Kostya reached a hand into his inner pocket and withdrew a leather pouch. And Baltic gestured at Ysolde, who pulled on a chain around her neck, tugging up a small glass vial that hung next to a silver pendant.
“You had them with you all along?” I asked, all shades of incredulous. “You made us go through all that, and you guys had them on you? What the hell, people? What the serious hell?”
“Abaddon,” Gary corrected, receiving a paws-up from Jim.
I gave him a look that had him backing his truck away from me.
Constantine took the shards from each of the wyverns, held them in his hands, and said simply, “Father of all dragons who ever was, who are, and who will be, we summon you.”
The air in front of Constantine shimmered a little, like it was made of water, then did an odd ripple that resolved itself into the shape of a man.
I say man, but really, it wasn’t a man. Oh, he looked perfectly normal. He had two arms, and legs, and hands and eyes, and everything that a normal man has… but there was something about his eyes that wasn’t quite normal. For one, the color of his irises was kind of an old gold that appeared to be splattered with red and black and silver. His pupils were slightly elongated, not quite like a cat’s, but not round like they should be. And then there was the air of something… other… that surrounded him.
Even the look of surprise on his face when he saw Constantine was slightly off.
“Constantine. Was I mistaken in thinking you died some five centuries ago?”
“No. I was resurrected by Ysolde.” Constantine gestured behind the First Dragon, who kept his eyes firmly on his grandson.
“Ah, you are a spirit.” His gaze shifted to me for a few moments. I felt myself blushing, although I couldn’t think of why I’d do such a thing. “And you have a mate. How interesting.”
Not good, or yay for you, just interesting. I started to think that the First Dragon was a bit of a jerk.
“Ysolde is here?” The First Dragon turned around slowly, smiling at Ysolde, who summoned up a welcoming smile of her own. “My child, you look as charming as ever. Baltic is here, too, I see.”
“Yes,” Baltic said ungraciously. He looked sour and annoyed as hell to see his demigod parent. I wanted to hug him at that moment. “I’m here. For the record, I was against Constantine calling you.”
“It’s nice to see you, too,” the First Dragon said with a little quirk to his lips that had my irritation easing a smidgen. He glanced around at the others. Drake and Kostya both made low bows to him, murmuring something about it being an honor to see him.
“Why have you summoned me?” the First Dragon asked.
“It’s Kashi,” Constantine said abruptly.
The expression on the First Dragon’s face went from mild amusement to absolutely nothing. In fact, it felt like everything in the world was holding its breath, waiting for a reaction.
“That name has no meaning,” the First Dragon said slowly, turning back to face us.
“Bael, then. He has tried to destroy the dragonkin for the last two years, but only recently was released from where he’d been held in the Akasha. And now he is gathering power, more power than he ever had before, and he intends on wiping us out.”
The First Dragon’s eyelids drooped.
Constantine took a deep breath. “I tried to eliminate him in the past and failed. And now he is too strong, and will grow stronger with each passing day. We need your help in destroying him.”
“What call does a demon lord have on me?” the First Dragon asked in a very neutral voice.
“He is your son,” Baltic said.
“He is not.” The First Dragon’s gaze slid to Baltic for a few moments. “Do not think because you are a favored child that I will involve myself in your business. I did so in the past because I wished to see your line continue. Nothing more.”
“Should I point out that you haven’t even asked how Alduin is doing?” Ysolde asked with a touch of asperity.
The corners of his mouth twitched. “Do you truly believe that I am unaware of him? And of you?”
Ysolde flapped her hands around vaguely. “Touché. He’s well, by the way. As we all are, all the dragons, now that the curse that your other son placed on us has been lifted by Constantine and Bee.”
“Baltic,” the First Dragon said wearily. “Your mate—”
“I know,” Baltic interrupted, holding up his hand. “She never has displayed reverence for that which deserves it, but that does not lessen her charms.”
“I love you, too,” Ysolde told him, kissing his cheek. “Even if your dad is a pain in the—” She stopped and smiled brightly at the First Dragon.
The First Dragon came close to rolling his eyes, I swear he did, but evidently demigods have a standard to maintain, and he managed to simply lift a hand in a graceful gesture of refusal. “This fight you speak of is not mine.” His gaze dropped onto Constantine. “Nor is it yours alone, Constantine of Norka. It is not the fight of the dragonkin—you have work to do, yes, but others must do what you cannot. Only one who is mortal-born can defeat a demon lord. So it is, and so it has always been.”
“Who?” I couldn’t help but ask, driven to it by frustration. The man was a friggin’ god, for cripes sake! Why wouldn’t he just step in and stomp his former son to smithereens? “What mortal? And how is he or she supposed to defeat Bael to begin with? Constantine’s tried, and if he couldn’t do it, I don’t understand how a mortal is supposed to do it.”
“And that will be your failing if you do not correct it,” the First Dragon told me. He started to fade, just like he was made up of millions of tiny light particles that began to go out. “Seek a warrior, one who can undo that which gives Bael strength. Only then will you restore the weyr.”
