Settings

Light My Fire

Page 63

   


“Oh, that’s a good one. Safe transport.” Jim snorted.
“What did you do with Istvan?” 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 Istvan. “Fiat, so help me god, if you’ve hurt Istvan, 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 such 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?”