Light Dragons 02 - The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

could end the suffering of the weyr, and now I shall do so!”
    Baltic reached for his sword, but he was clad in a pair of jeans, completely sans lethal weapons, airport security being what it is these days. He swore profanely, then yanked a branch off the elm tree and wielded it like a leafy staff. “There is no suffering to compare with what you have already put me through!”
    “Boys, really—”
    Baltic lunged just as Constantine, with a battle yell that had the birds flying from nearby trees, leaped forward . . . only to melt into nothingness.
    “What trickery is this?” Baltic bellowed, flinging his branch around with abandon.
    “That is what I’d like to know!” Constantine’s voice answered. “What magic have you cast upon me?”
    “It’s no magic—I told you, you’re only corporeal so long as you have the energy to maintain that state. You’ve obviously come to the end of that, and will have to recharge your spirit batteries, so to speak,” Maura said wearily. “I don’t suppose anyone would like a drink? I sure could use one. I noticed the hotel had a bar.”
    “You didn’t resurrect him?” Baltic asked me, lowering his branch.
    “Why would I do that?”
    “Because you love me,” the disembodied voice said.
    “I do not,” I told the air. “I never loved you, Constantine. I was fond of you, yes, but my heart has always belonged to Baltic.”
    “Bah. You were just confused,” he answered, his voice now on my far side.
    “This is really disconcerting. Can you make some sort of an image so we can see where you are?”
    “No.” He sounded surly.
    “Fine. Pout if you like, but it’s not going to impress me. He’s not resurrected,” I said, turning back Baltic. “Maura is a Summoner. She raised his shade so I could talk to him about restoring his honor.”
    Baltic rolled his eyes. “I told you that was a folly, mate.”
    “A folly? A folly ? Restoring my honor is not a folly, you ignorant coxcomb!”
    We both ignored the unseen Constantine.
    “It’s not foolish if it gets the First Dragon off my back.”
    “Really, people, if I get any more mosquito bites, I’m going to be one giant welt,” Maura interrupted, slapping at her arm. “Ysolde, can you give me a lift back to town?”
    “Talking to that monstrosity will not do anything but waste your time,” Baltic said, gesturing at nothing with his branch.
    “You bastard!” Constantine snarled. “I am not the monstrous one here!”
    “Right, if I have to separate you two, I will,” I said in my best mom voice. “Constantine, just tell me, please, what I have to do to restore your honor.”
    “My honor has no need of your attention. That one who calls himself your mate is another matter, although he never had any honor to begin with.”
    Baltic growled.
    “Of course your honor needs help. Your father said you lost it.”
    “Mate—”
    “My father?” Constantine may have been invisible to our sight, but the incredulity in his voice was clearly audible. “What does my father have to do with anything?”
    “He asked me to restore your honor.”
    “My father is dead. He has been dead for . . . what century is this?”
    “Twenty-first,” Maura said, tugging on my sleeve. “Shall we go?”
    “He’s been dead for seven centuries. He could not have asked you to do anything, unless you raised his shade as well.”
    “Well, he’s not really a shade so much as he is kind of a . . . er . . . I don’t know quite what he is. God, maybe?”
    “Mate, I insist that you leave this murdering bastard and come with me to Dauva,” Baltic said, pulling me up against his side.
    “I like that! You murdered far more dragons than I ever did!” Constantine exclaimed.
    “Like hell I did! You wiped out the entire black sept!”
    “Not alone! The red dragons helped quite a bit, so Chuan Ren has to share the body count. Besides, it was kill or be killed. We were only protecting ourselves from your madness.”
    “I was not mad.” Baltic ground the words out through his teeth, the muscles of his arms and chest tense and tight. “I was trying to keep you from killing my mate. Which you did anyway.”
    “Me?” Once again Constantine’s voice was filled with surprise. “I did not kill Ysolde!”
    “We saw you,” I said sadly, leaning into Baltic for support against the horrible memories.
    “Right, that’s it. Patience at an end.” Maura pulled a very real-looking gun from her backpack. “We’re going to the hotel.