Light Dragons 02 - The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

grubby notebook and an even grubbier bit of shed snakeskin.
    “I wouldn’t. I’m not. It’s just that . . . oh, never mind.”
    “I don’t like Thala,” Brom said as I sat down next to him. “She doesn’t like mummies. She told me I was a weird kid and to stay out of her way. And she’s always touching Baltic.”
    I stared at him. “Touching him how?”
    “You know, touching him,” he said with a shrug. “She touches his arm a lot, and earlier I saw her touch his face. If I was Baltic, I wouldn’t let her do that. It’s too icky.”
    I gave him one of the three daily hugs he allowed me. “It’s not icky with the right person.”
    “Yeah. You can touch my face if you really want to, but I won’t let anyone else do it. It’s time to unwrap the mole Pavel found a week ago in the back garden. You want to watch?”
    “The thought of a mummified mole is not horribly high on my wish list, but I suppose I’ll survive it.”
    “Geez, Sullivan,” he said with a roll of his eyes as he got to his feet and headed to the basement door. “You’re such a girl. It’s just a mole!”
    “Hey, lots of girls like dead things!” I protested as I followed. “Just because I’m not one of them doesn’t mean anything. I’ll have you know that Baltic says he taught me how to use a sword and morning star, and that’s something you don’t see a lot of girls doing.”
    We spent a pleasant hour together as Brom showed off his various mummification projects. While he explained his technique, I mused about how a boy with such a horrible biological father could turn out so bright and charming, if a little eccentric, but when he offered to show me the mole’s preserved innards, I decided enough quality time had been spent and went off to demand that Baltic do likewise for me.
    “Half hour more, then bed,” I told Brom as I left.
    He frowned. “Sullivan, I’m not a child.”
    “Of course you’re not. Nine is perfectly ancient, but Nico is coming in the morning, and if you want to avoid being sent to the local school, you had better show Baltic and me that you will excel with a tutor, and that means bed at a reasonable hour. Got it?”
    He rolled his eyes but nodded.
    “Love you. Good night.” I trotted up the stairs, making yet another mental note to ask the tutor to concentrate a little more on biology, since Brom seemed to have a knack for things of that ilk.
    “—not see that she is undermining your authority? Who is the one who decided that the child could visit the silver dragons? She did. Her ties to the silver sept run deep, Baltic, and it is to them she owes her true allegiance. She will betray you now as she tried to do in the—” Thala spun around when I entered Baltic’s library bearing a tray.
    “Sorry to interrupt your little attempt at erroneous propaganda,” I said without a shred of truth. I set the tray down on Baltic’s desk, and laid out a couple of espresso cups and a carafe of coffee before smiling at him. “I needn’t ask if you believe that hogwash, since you know full well I would never do anything to betray you. Quite the opposite, as a matter of fact.”
    “I’ve never doubted you,” he answered with a complacence that I knew would irritate Thala.
    “Good. I thought you’d like a little dessert. You didn’t have time after dinner for the caramel-drenched chocolate hazelnut torte I made for you.”
    Thala sneered as Baltic, who had an almost insatiable sweet tooth, looked with interest at the contents of the tray.
    “Cake?” Thala dismissed the subject. “We have no time for cake!”
    My smile grew as I held out a plate for Baltic. “There’s always time for cake. Especially cake with caramel. Baltic loves caramel, don’t you?”
    “Ysolde enjoys cooking,” Baltic said around a mouthful of torte. “It pleases her to pretend I’m starving and must be fed several times a day.”
    “I do nothing of the sort, and I’ve yet to see you turn down anything I give you.”
    “I don’t wish to hurt your feelings,” he said, a blissful look stealing into his eyes as the torte melted in his mouth. “Did you make the caramel yourself?”
    “Of course. I have extra. I thought we might enjoy it . . . later .”
    “We really should make some decisions tonight,” Thala spoke over the top of me, tapping on the laptop.
    “Mm-hmm,” he agreed, eyeing the second piece I had brought for Thala. “Do you want that?”
    “Yes, I very much want to proceed—”
    “No,