Light Dragons 02 - The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

able to remember things again. I want . . .”
    It danced with tantalizing nearness, just beyond the range of my consciousness, where I could see it, but not grasp it. I closed my eyes in order to draw it into focus, but the echoes stayed fragmented and incoherent.
    “. . . shall not be! I will not . . .”
    “You have no right, dragon . . .”
    “Mate, you cannot . . .”
    I shook my head as I tried to coax the memories forward. “I’ve lost them, Baltic. I can’t even remember my own past.”
    I heard him sigh, and suddenly I was in his arms, his body warm and solid, holding me with infinite care, the scent of him seeping deep into my being. I opened my eyes to look into his, the dark, endless depths of them drawing me in and capturing me in his soul.
    “Do not do this, Ysolde. You are my love, my life. You are the very breath in my lungs, and the beat of my heart. I could not exist without you.”
    “She tried to steal you from me,” I heard myself say, and realized that he had done what I couldn’t do by myself—he’d pulled the vision from my hidden memories.
    “No,” the past Baltic said, his face different, yet familiar nonetheless. “No one could do that. You do not need to kill her. Do not risk that which you cannot afford, my love. She isn’t worth it.”
    I turned to look at the woman who was trapped against a stone wall, my fire surrounding her. On the edges of the shadows stood several forms, dragons and others, keeping a wary distance from the three of us. It was nighttime, the air warm and heavy with the scent of jasmine and orange blossoms, soft distant noises of the city telling me we stood some leagues from it.
    The fire was silent the way dragon fire is, burning with a brightness that lit up the immediate area despite the thick darkness around us. But it was more than mere dragon fire surrounding her; a sense of power rushed through me, pouring outward to encircle Antonia. I wanted more than anything to just let the stream of power wash over her, for I knew it would end her existence, but Baltic’s love wrapped me in a web that prohibited me from doing so. I could snap it with just a thought, but to do that would be to break our love, as well, and there was nothing on this earth that would compel me to such a sacrifice.
    “It pleases me that I have made no error in you,” a ponderous voice said from the side.
    A man strolled forward through the crowd, which parted as if he were a plow on loamy soil. Soft, startled murmurs rippled around us, trailing in his wake as he stopped in front of me. His face and eyes were ageless, all-seeing, all-knowing, as if he saw all too clearly that I was on the verge of committing an act that would forever change the path of my life.
    “Who are you?” I asked the man. He was a dragon, of that I was sure, but I didn’t recognize him or what sept he was from.
    His dark eyes were amused—at least they were until his gaze slid past me to where Baltic stood. Then they narrowed, his lips tightening. Whoever he was, he wasn’t pleased.
    “Baltic,” he said, his gaze returning to me, “your mate is the source of much trouble, it seems.”
    Baltic’s arm went around me, pulling me tight to his side. “She is no trouble to me .”
    The dragon’s lips twitched, but he merely turned his head to consider Antonia von Endres as she was plastered to the stone wall of the villa’s tower. His eyebrows rose. “You seek to destroy the mage, daughter of night?”
    I hadn’t intended on answering him, since my temper was riled by Antonia, but something about him compelled me to say simply, “She tried to steal my mate. I tolerate that from no one, not even an archimage.”
    “She is not worth your ire.” His gaze rested on me a third time, the amusement back in it as he leaned toward me and said softly, “Do not fail me, little one. All my hopes rest with you.”
    “Hopes?” I asked stupidly, not understanding what he was saying. “What hopes?”
    He said nothing, just turned and walked back the way he had come, into the deepest part of the shadows. It was at that moment that I realized that the crowd of dragons making a half circle around us had been completely and utterly silent, as if they were collectively holding their breath.
    “Who was that?” I asked Baltic, touching his arm as he looked after the man, a strange expression on his face. “Why did he call me daughter? He’s not my father.”
    “That, my love, was the father of us all,”