Chapter 18
EIGHTEEN
If he wanted to play, I’d play.
The Tower Ward
Dragon Heights
The entire time I hauled my collection of Krikolios’s bones and claws along with the obsidian dagger into the house, Erik glowered at me, his arms crossed over his chest. Only a fool would fail to notice his displeasure, and I wondered which one of my unacceptably independent actions had earned me a trip to the doghouse.
The next time I handled chores on my own, I would get a literal doghouse so I could take myself into it, and I’d even derail my yellow hatchling through the presentation of a collar and leash meant for bedroom usage.
If he wanted to play, I’d play, and I fully intended to win.
I saved the dagger and claws for last, and I crawled under the bed to retrieve the sickle, carting the entire load to the kitchen table.
Of everything to fall into my possession as of late, the sickle, the dagger, and the claws would be the most precious of the lot. As I spaced everything apart, I blinked, stared at the girl’s weapon, and then compared it to the ancient dragon’s claw.
I took the sickle up in my right hand and one of the claws in my second, holding them side by side.
Sure enough, outside of the runes and a few spots where the sickle had been smoothed to be a more perfect curve, the color and size matched, and once I removed the hilt and wrap, I suspected the weights would as well. I stared at them with wide eyes.
Then, sucking in a breath. I understood what Krikolios had meant by his bones having power.
The Sumerian girl had traded her life using a dragon’s power to save her people.
And then the claw’s power had endured for thousands of years, but I suspected the water was supposed to be ice, but time had dulled the dragon’s power.
Instead of water, I suspected she should have been claimed by the ice that had engulfed Krikolios at the time of his death.
Perhaps in time, when the ice sheets rose again and spread to cover the lands, the past would repeat itself, and the claw would continue the tradition of dragons returning to a frigid tomb.
“Kinsley?”
“Tell me why you’re cranky first,” I requested.
“Your parents stole our kittens again.”
Right. Because of the dragon bones, I’d wanted a few hours home alone before bringing them back so we could put them away and talk without scaring the carbunclo.
“Garnet and Citrine are going to a rock store, and we don’t have to buy their new prizes for their hoard, Erik.
Only a fool would refuse that. They’ll be back, and we’ll have a late dinner together.
Give me twenty minutes, and I’ll make you feel all better in our bedroom. ”
He chuckled at that. “I like that part, but I don’t like when they steal our kittens.”
“It wasn’t theft. It was assistance.” After taking a deep breath, I dove in and went over everything that had happened at the cemetery, including the details regarding Krikolios and his death. Then, hoping he might confirm my suspicions, I held the sickle and the claw side by side.
“But how had the weapon gotten from the ice, probably in North America, to the deserts of Sumeria?” Erik took hold of the sickle, turning it every which way before handing it back and investigating the claw.
“I’m inclined to agree with you. However improbable, the material appears to be the same, the size and shape are generally the same, and it does align with what I know of dragons and their powers, especially old dragons like Krikolios.
I’ve only heard some myths and legends about him and his mate, of course, but I was warned from a very early age to avoid anything to do with the bones of ancient dragons.
That girl’s fate is only one of the reasons why.
Some say the bones of particularly powerful dragons are sentient and choose whether to aid or hinder those using them.
But the sickle being a dragon claw makes a great deal of sense.
But it might not be Krikolios’s claw. It could be his mate’s, too.
They were similar in size and appearance.
She was renowned for her nurturing nature, so it’s more likely her claw than his.
He was better known for being sympathetic while allowing nature to run its course. ”
“He seemed lonely when he died, however.”
“Death is frightening, and dying alone would be even more so, I think.” After another few moments of regarding the sickle, he placed it on the table.
“What do you want to do with these? They’re yours.
I’ll admit, I was quite startled when Pascal brought Enzo into it.
But when that one says the bones are your rightful property and it would be a bad idea to put them into evidence, nobody is going to argue.
Not anyone sane, at least. But what are you going to do with them? ”
Ah. Erik’s behavior wasn’t anger; he worried about what would happen now that I owned the bones of a legendary dragon—and the sickle had already claimed the life of at least one person.
I shared more than a few traits with the Sumerian girl determined to protect her home and people.
“For now, nothing. We’ll figure out how to safeguard these in our home, and we will treat the claws and sickle with the respect they deserve.
I will return the girl and her sickle to the oasis, assuming we can figure out a way to protect them from the greed of those who wish to profit from them.
Perhaps we can awaken the sickle’s ability to unleash hell on those who would steal from the oasis again in the future.
But if the girl’s water continues to flow, she should be returned to her homeland so she can continue to offer life to the people she died to protect. ”
“And what if that is not her wish?”
I met my husband’s gaze. “Then she can tell that to me directly, and I’ll do what she wishes with her body and her blade.
But no matter which dragon that claw came from, it gave her the power to protect and safeguard an entire city.
It gave her thousands of years of bringing life to a desert, too. We should respect that.”
“I do agree with you, I’m just worried about what will happen when word spreads you have his bones.”
“Nothing, assuming they know what’s best for them. I question why Madam Merorie didn’t use them on her quest to raise her son.”
Erik winced. “What if she already has? It could very well be that she already used some of his bones. That’s something we’ll have to investigate later. How are you progressing on the trafficking situation?”
“We’re hoping we can find some clues in the papers we pulled out of the casket, although the information in there would be quite dated.
But if we can pick up the trail even a little, we might be able to find out if there are living people at the end of the road.
” I wrinkled my nose, regarding the claws, sickle, and bones with wary regard.
“I’m quite tired of finding nothing but bodies. ”
“We all are. Try not to let that get you down. Yes, we want to find any trafficked people, but we’ve already made good progress.
At a minimum, one trafficking group won’t be able to get new victims. Every little bit helps.
If we’re particularly fortunate, the information Pascal gets will turn into a full bust of the trafficking operation later.
If this was easy, there’d be no such thing as unsolved mysteries. ”
I knew that; I’d learned that painful lesson in Miami. However, knowing and understanding the reasons why didn’t make the burden any easier to bear.
I wanted to set all of Madam Merorie’s victims free. Heaving a sigh, I nodded. “Do you think I’m doing the right thing, Erik?”
“I know you are. If the right thing was easy, everyone would be doing it. But it’s not.
Try not to let that get you down for long.
Let’s get this stuff put away, have a vigorous discussion in the bedroom, and then settle in to talk to your parents about how best to handle these bones and claws.
If anyone in our lives knows, it’ll be them. ”
No kidding. After a brief discussion, we decided the bones and claws would join the sickle under our bed until we could find a better place for them in our home, likely in one of the rooms meant to display our hoard.
Once we had everything put away, I let Erik off his leash so he could help me forget about anything other than him for a little while.
* * *
Monday, May 25, 2167
The Tower Ward
Dragon Heights, Wyoming
After feeding our carbunclo a feast of beef stew with extra mashed potatoes, we put the kittens and hummingbird to bed, cornered my parents in the sitting room, and blocked the exit so they couldn’t attempt to dodge the discussion.
My mother laughed at our antics. “Look at them, babe. They’re trying to corner us. Hatchlings are so cute when they get feisty.”
“I’d be more concerned they actually worked up the nerve to try to corner us. The boy might for fun, but the girl is not typically that aggressive. She has other ways of getting us to do what she wants. All right, Kinsley. What do you want?”
“How long before his death did you both see Krikolios?”
Somehow, I kept from grinning or laughing over their gobsmacked expressions. My mother recovered first, and she sat straighter on the couch. “Why are you asking?”
“Madam Merorie had some of his bones and claws, and I witnessed when he returned to the ice. I may have started asking questions, thus learning that you, my parents, are well over ten thousand years old—and that you’ve been mated for a rather long part of that time.
How did you go for thousands of years without reproducing? ” I blurted.