Chapter Nine #4
When it cleared away, the Dragon God was gone, leaving behind his Dragon Mark, coiled around Dearg’s throat, looking pleased with itself.
Maeve heaved a sigh, her gaze sliding to the biers again.
Dearg stood, drawing me with him. I took her hand, long-fingered and calloused from her forge.
Apparently Cachamwri’s visit had helped, because the lines of guilt had smoothed from the goddess’s handsome face, and her shoulders squared.
“That is… better,” she said after a moment. “Knowing I made the right choice.”
“You did,” Dearg admitted, bowing his head. “Please accept my abject apologies for suggesting otherwise.”
Maeve waved a hand. “No, you were correct. I should have taken action before either of you got involved, back when it was evident what Siobhan had become. But after I accepted the geas, even the Sight was blocked, so I had no idea what was brewing.” She brightened.
“But when I Saw Dearg, I knew there was hope.”
I took his hand, smiling. “Yeah, he often has the same effect on me.” After all we’d endured, surely there was a future for us.
* * *
“You should have let me eat the twat,” Vildra told me over the communication spell I’d opened from Maeve’s palace.
Hard experience had taught me that worrying a matriarch dragon was a Really Bad Idea.
I was warmed to see that all twenty-four of my officers were hanging around at the department with her, hoping for news.
Usually, they’d look uncomfortable at the mayor’s threat to snack on someone. This time?
“She’s right,” Lapis said. “Bitch would make the perfect entrée.”
“Sautéed Sociopath?” Ken suggested.
“Braised Bitch?” Jimar chimed in.
“Killer Kabab?” Jill smirked.
“My mom made a really good gutjja out of a Sidhe assassin once,” Rashi said wistfully. “Her dubok sauce was the best in the village.”
We all stared at him.
The troll blinked orange eyes. “What?”
* * *
After Dearg reassured his parents that we were all right, we opened a third communication to Hammerthunder and told him how Baareo’s killer died. He, his wife, and his youngest son stepped through the gate we opened and took custody of Respen’s body.
“Some of my people told me not to expect you to honor your word,” Hammerthunder told Dearg and me.
“Yet you both risked your lives to keep it. I will tell my king of this. Perhaps… Perhaps it will make a difference. We Centauri do love our wars, but there are many to war with. Perhaps the Sidhe need not be one of them.”
Phinarpia spoke up. “We watched the… films? Yes, films. The clan found them a great comfort, and we’ve shared it with others. The King himself was pleased that Baareo had spread word of our people’s honor and bravery.” Her smile wavered. “And now you bring us his killer. We owe you much.”
“But I owed Baareo more,” I told her. “I owed him protection from the assassin, but I had no idea a killer had entered my town.” And that was a guilt I knew I’d feel a very long time.
Hammerthunder studied me thoughtfully. “Not even a demigoddess can know everything that happens everywhere. You are not a god, after all. I suspect if you had known, you would have saved my son.”
Phinarpia offered us food, but we declined the honor. They needed to finish the ritual to free Baareo’s spirit, and we had one of our own to attend.
* * *
An hour later, Maeve held an impromptu memorial for Siobhan. Though I felt a little hypocritical attending, my grandmother was grieving and I wanted to support her.
Maeve, her entire menagerie, Dearg, and I walked out into the garden, Siobhan’s bier floating in our wake, piled high with the flowers we’d gathered.
My grandmother cried as she related her memories of Siobhan’s childhood before Lyssa took her, describing the child my mother had been, the pleasure Maeve had found in her loving spirit.
“I wish I could have helped you,” the goddess said, gazing up at the stars. “I wish I could have kept Lyssa from taking you from me. I hope you’ll forgive me for my failures and find joy in the Otherworld.”
Tears rolling silently down her face, Maeve gestured, igniting the bier. It flamed up in an instant, sending ash flying skyward.
* * *
We returned to the Palace of the Two Kingdoms and his parents’ elaborate suite where they’d laid a private feast for the four of us. We’d dressed accordingly, in conjured court finery, green for me, shades of blue for Dearg.
We joined King Ll?r and Queen Diana over venison and Sidhe delicacies the palace chef had prepared. I ate and listened while Dearg briefed his parents about the last couple of weeks as we searched for the killer.
He tried to downplay his own heroics more than once, but I corrected that quickly. “I wouldn’t have made it without him,” I told them firmly.
However, the king wasn’t exactly thrilled when Dearg confessed to following Respen and me through the assassin’s dimensional portal.
“You could have been killed,” Ll?r growled, even as his wife laid a calming hand over his.
Dearg’s gaze met his and didn’t drop. “I’d have done worse to save her.”
His father looked from Dearg to his wife. He sighed. “Fair point.”