EPILOGUE TWO
YRIAN
It took two days before Yrian was able to attend the sárkány held at his youngest brother’s house in England.
“I believe we should get started, especially since the mates are holding their union meeting, and we all know how inventive they are when they get together.” Gabriel was taking the lead for the meeting, his eyes dancing with amusement despite the seriousness of the last few days.
“Hunter, fair warning—they feel that since they found Charity for the First Dragon, they are the ultimate in matchmakers, and have been making noises about finding mates for all the unattached tribe masters friendly to the weyr.”
Three dragons—Hunter of the Shadow Tribe, Feo of the Fire Tribe, and Anniki of the Moon Tribe—all flashed identical looks of horror.
“Since Yrian is back amongst the living, perhaps he will bring everyone up to date with what happened in the Duat and inside the Suffrage House vault,” Drake suggested.
Yrian considered the dragons around the long table.
Outside, on a patio that overlooked a small lake, he could hear the females laughing as they held their own gathering.
He wasn’t quite sure what they did at their meetings, but Becket assured him she was happy to spend time with the mates.
He was equally pleased that she had so embraced the dragonkin.
He smiled to himself at the surprise he had waiting for her in the bedroom his youngest brother had given over to them while they were searching for a home.
“I told you that Xavier was killed. I severed his remains into twelve pieces, each of which was buried as far apart as was possible, so that he cannot be resurrected.”
Bastian, the blue wyvern, gave a relieved smile. Hunter swore. Archer looked both annoyed, and as relieved as Bastian.
Yrian, no stranger to the idea of fratricide, told the twins, “It was not my intention to usurp your right to destroy your father. He was in the guise of Kashi, and it wasn’t until I saw Tenite’s lack of emotion in response to his death that I realized the truth.”
“It’s just frustrating as hell,” Hunter said, glowering. “Here we go through hundreds of years figuring out how to take him down, only to be finally given the means to do so—”
“When my mate broke the curse,” Archer interjected.
Hunter waved that away. “And for what? So our revenge is snatched away? It’s as if all our work was for nothing.”
“On the contrary,” Yrian said, annoyed that he had to explain the obvious, while also pinched with guilt that he had—inadvertently—snatched from the twins the revenge due them.
“Xavier, with Kashi’s help, was far more powerful than he would have been on his own.
You two stood between him and the havoc he would have wrought had he not been in fear of you. ”
“He didn’t fear us,” Hunter said, disgust dripping from each word. “As he stated many times.”
“And yet, he did not attack once he knew you had regained your balance,” Yrian said, his attention caught again by laughter from the patio.
“Yrian has a point,” Drake agreed. “If Xavier was as powerful as we now know him to have been, then he must have had a healthy respect for you both. Otherwise, he would have simply cut you down before attacking the rest of the dragonkin.”
“In fact, I think it’s fair to say that you two were responsible for keeping him at bay,” Gabriel added.
The other wyverns nodded their agreement.
The twins exchanged glances, and Hunter finally allowed, “I suppose that’s true. That doesn’t eliminate the fact that we went through everything, including Thaisa almost killing us both when she broke the curse, for effectively nothing.”
“If you believe that is the only repercussion from Archer’s mate breaking the curse binding you, you should reevaluate the happenings in the Otherworld,” Yrian said, his lips thinning at the dragon.
“What do you mean?” Drake asked, his eyes narrowed.
By way of answer, Yrian turned to Gabriel. “You said your mother is a shaman. Do you not feel a disruption affecting the kin?”
Baltic leaned back in his chair with a flash of insight in his eyes.
Gabriel was silent for a handful of seconds before he said slowly, “My mother says the songline touching the dragonkin has been changed somehow. Altered. She could not pinpoint the source, but the answer to your question is yes. I have felt ... something.”
“Do you know what this threat is?” Bastian asked, his fingers flexing as if he wished for a sword at hand.
Yrian knew just how he felt. “No,” he admitted. He glanced at his youngest brother.
“I don’t know anything specific,” Baltic said with an abrupt shake of his head. “But I am uneasy, and I don’t like the fact that Bael and Xavier have been removed as a threat, and yet the feeling remains.”
“And speaking of that ...” Gabriel gave a little nod to Yrian. “The honor is yours.”
Yrian rose, met the gaze of each of the wyverns and tribe masters present, and pulled out the crystal container chased in silver. He held it up for all to see before presenting it to Bastian.
“The weyr wishes me to offer this to you, as it contains, in part, the remains of your sept’s shard.”
“Former sept,” Bastian said with a somewhat tepid smile.
Yrian continued. “With it in your possession, the weyr is prepared to accept the blue dragons back. You will have to send it to the Thirteenth Hour after you rejoin, but the shard is acknowledged to belong to the blue dragons.”
Bastian, who had reluctantly taken the crystal, studied it for a few minutes before casting a glance at one of his guards, a woman with piercing blue eyes and hair the color of a raven’s wing.
“It would be our greatest joy to rejoin our kin, but much though we appreciate the gesture, I believe we can do more good if we continue as the Song Tribe. We have yet to deal with Deus, and the Chaos and Blood Tribes, even if Xavier is no more. So, we thank you, but we will be content to remain as a tribe who works outside the weyr to aid it.”
Bastian gave the crystal case back to Yrian.
Silence fell over the room, allowing everyone to hear clearly the females laughing.
Yrian caught the ripple of Becket’s laughter, and something inside him lightened and made him feel almost giddy with joy.
One part of his mind was both shocked and mildly disturbed that he could feel giddy about anything, but the other part, the sane part, reminded him that he’d sworn to Becket that he would cherish her to the end of their days, and by the sun and moon above, he would hold to that.
He would delight in her laughter, and if it made him giddy, then so be it.
“Your shard lies within,” he said, holding the crystal up again. “Broken, and now tainted with the essence of Kashi, but one day, it will be restored. At that time, I will have the ability to modify the weyr so that tribes might be counted as its members.”
To say pandemonium broke out at that point was an understatement. The wyverns—all but his youngest brother—demanded to know what he meant.
“You said you couldn’t change the weyr when we asked you earlier,” Archer pointed out.
“That was before I knew the blood moon was no longer being held by Desislav,” he answered, feeling enough time had been spent with his kin. He rose, tucking the crystal into his pocket. He wished to make sure his surprise for Becket was set properly, since the mates’ meeting was sure to end soon.
“Are you saying that if you had the blood moon, you could change the weyr?” Gabriel asked, looking a bit stunned about the eyes.
“With the help of the dragonkin, yes,” he answered. “As well as separate the blue shard from Kashi. Becket and I will travel to the Thirteenth Hour this evening. The Sovereign will meet us there. We will place the shard and Kashi’s essence into her keeping. You are all so agreed?”
Everyone stated their approval of this plan. Yrian escaped even as more questions were thrown his way.
Becket emerged from a bathroom, her lovely eyes crinkling with happiness at seeing him. He couldn’t think of a specific deity upon whom he could heap thanks that she had come into his life, but just as soon as he could, he’d offer up many prayers of gratitude.
“Done with your sárkány?” she asked, her hair gleaming almost copper in the sunshine. “We’re almost finished, as well, mostly because Aisling got annoyed with Jim lipping off to everyone, and banished it to the Akasha for a bit, before feeling guilty and sending it to a friend’s house.”
“Then we can retire to our room, so that I might pleasure you with energetic bedsport,” he said, one hand on her back as he climbed the stairs.
“Are you cleared to do that?” she asked, a shadow of concern on her face. “Gabriel said you might have some residual soreness on your front side, since it took the brunt of your mom’s fire. Maybe we should wait another day or so—”
“It has been two days and I will wait no longer.” He hesitated. “Is it that you no longer desire me? Do the scars on my chest and arms repulse you?”
“Are you kidding?” She slid him a look so warm he felt it to the tips of his toes. “It’s been all I could do to keep my hands off you for these two days that Gabriel said you needed to heal fully. And your scars don’t bother me. They’re a reminder of just why you are the Firstborn.”
“Because my mother is a fury?” he asked, opening the door to their room.
She stopped just inside, turning to him with a seductive smile that had him hard in mere seconds. “Because you are the bravest of all your dragon family. I will admit to being glad your lovely back tat wasn’t touched—what the hell?”
A noise from the attached bathroom had her spinning around. Yrian strode into the small room, picked up a plastic crate, and returned to Becket, placing it at her feet. “This is a pug. The former owner died. She had named him Galahad, but the people at the shelter said you are free to rename him.”
Becket stared open-mouthed at him for a few seconds, then whooped and knelt when he set down the crate, opening it so that she might see his gift to her.
“Goddess above, Yrian! A pug? Oh my lord, you are the cutest thing ever!”
He watched with much pleasure as she sat on the ground, accepting kisses and many licks by the small, very round dog. “Ysolde has arranged for us to use a fenced off section of the garden as his latrine, although it would appear he has used his domicile for that purpose, as well.”
She stood with the squirming, licking pug in her arms, her eyes glittering with tears, but with an expression that once again made him feel as if he could accomplish any task she asked of him.
“You are the sweetest, most thoughtful, sexiest dragon who ever lived. Thank you for Galahad. And thank you for leaving your griefscape so you could save me from Bael.”
“You saved me, as well,” he told her, relishing the kisses she pressed to his lips after setting down the dog when he protested being caught between them.
“If it wasn’t for you, I would even now be confined to the Thirteenth Hour.
Would you prefer to find a home in the Beyond first, or in the mortal world? ”
She hesitated, watching the dog as it wrestled with her shoelaces.
“It makes sense to go to the Beyond. Candy is still out and about, although if Bael is no more, it’s probably searching for another demon lord to serve.
And of course, there are the myriad other people who’d like nothing better than to make me do their bidding. It would definitely be safer there.”
He watched her, waiting, having a pretty good idea of what she would decide.
“But you’ve just reacquainted yourself with your family, and I know they are going to need help with that Deus character. Also, I think we should try to find your descendants, so you can catch up with them. And then there’s your mom.” She gave him a long look. “Do you think she’s done with us?”
“Not by any means,” he answered.
“Then we’d better stay out here for a bit, in the mortal world, where you can continue to be the hero all the dragonkin—including your dad—know you to be, and once things settle down, we can look for a safer home.”
“I will not allow anyone to harm you,” he promised, pulling her against his chest, his soul singing at the way her body fit against his, confirming the belief she was made for him.
His heart quietly tucked away the good memories of his time with Amice, finally able to set his past to peace.
Now he had Becket, an orange kitten, and a rotund pug who snored. With them, a new life opened up before him filled with endless nights of bedsport, the company of a woman who made him want to get down on his knees in gratitude, and more dancing-cat videos than he could count.
LATTSA
To the members of the Otherworld: Henceforth, Abaddon is under new control, and will be closed temporarily due to restructuring.
The seven princes have been removed. Desislav the Destroyer and Sovereign Parisi have taken charge.
All questions and concerns may be addressed to me, Lattsa, daughter of Haka, and head of the Jabmead Sisterhood.
To the Court of Divine Blood: prepare for your destruction.
* * *