Light Dragons 02 - The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

Nineteen
    J ack opened the door to Dr. Kostich’s suite with only a raised eyebrow at the large runed stone I held in my arms. “Tully. Er . . . Ysolde.”
    “Hi, Jack. Is he here?”
    “He is.” Jack stepped back, waving me in.
    “You didn’t get in trouble for letting me in last time, did you?”
    He made a wry face. “Not much. Just a little raking over the coals.”
    “I’m sorry—”
    He stopped my apology with a smile. “It was worth it to see you again. Would you mind if I asked why you’re lugging around a big rock?”
    “His name is Larry. He’s really a blue dragon.”
    Jack stared at the stone. “I thought the master placed the Grace of the Magi on you.”
    “He did. It doesn’t really help a whole lot.”
    “Ah. He’s in the sitting room.”
    Jack escorted me to the main room, murmuring my name by way of an announcement as I entered. I was relieved to see that Violet was still with her father, the pair of them looking up from small plates of cake and tiny sandwiches.
    “Tully! You’re just in time for tea,” Violet said, waving me in and pouring a fresh cup for me.
    I paused a moment, waiting to see if Dr. Kostich was going to kick up a fuss at my arriving unexpectedly again, but he simply frowned and said, “Since you offered me hospitality at your table, it is fitting I should do the same.”
    “Thank you.” Gratefully, I took the cup Violet handed me, as well as a plate laden with teatime goodies. “Ooh, cucumber sandwiches. I do love them.”
    “You have news of Maura?” Dr. Kostich asked, bending his frown upon me. “You have located her?”
    “Yes, and yes.”
    “Oh, thank the stars,” Violet sighed, relief causing her to sag against the couch. “I knew you’d save her.”
    “I haven’t quite done that. Yet.”
    Dr. Kostich set down his plate. “Why are you here, then?”
    I took a deep breath, followed by a big swig of hot tea. “I’m here to have you change a rock back into a blue dragon, if you can, and to remove the interdiction bound on me.”
    His face was as solid and unmoving as Larry’s stone. “We had an agreement, Tully Sullivan.”
    A little pinch of pain shot through me as he flexed his arcane muscles. “Yes, we did. I promised to try to help Maura, and I’ve done so. I met with her. I talked to her about getting away from the dragon tribe.” I took another sip of tea, more for time to gather my courage than anything else. “I offered her my help. She doesn’t want to leave them.”
    “I told you that,” Violet said, sitting upright again. “But she’s scared, Tully. Underneath that bravado, she’s scared. I just know she is.”
    I sorted through my impressions, slowly shaking my head. “I hate to contradict a mother’s feelings, but she didn’t strike me as scared.”
    “How did she strike you?” Kostich asked, his voice level, but I could feel anger building in the air.
    I met his gaze. “Not frightened or intimidated or even unhappy. She seemed very much in charge of herself . . . and others.”
    He made an annoyed click of his tongue.
    “No, that can’t be right. It was an act, Tully,” Violet protested.
    “I don’t think it was. Believe me, I wish there was an easy way to fix things, to help her escape the hold these dragons have on her, but the truth is that they have no hold. At least not the kind you mean. Far from it, I’d say. She was in command of the dragons—until they attacked us, that is.” I explained briefly about the resurrection of Constantine and the subsequent assault by Larry, Curly, and Moe.
    Kostich rose and went to the window, his fingers absently drawing little clarity spells on nothing in particular. “You say that one of the dragons referred to someone else, someone other than Maura?”
    “Not directly, but the implication was there.” An idea popped into my head, but it was so far-fetched, I couldn’t give it any credence. Besides, it didn’t fit. “If there is someone other than Maura calling the shots, I don’t know who that could be. I had a vision a few days ago about an event that took place at an aerie in Tibet. Ouroboros dragons were there, and were led by Maura. I didn’t see her explicitly, but there was a shade present, and he referred to his mistress. Who else but a Summoner would have a shade?”
    Kostich made another annoyed noise, one long, thin hand waving away my question. “A necromancer or an Ilargi might. That is not what is important.”
    “They’d have to be