Light Dragons 02 - The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

isn’t it?”
    “No,” he said firmly. “There are bound and unbound, released and unreleased spirits. There are alastors and alguls, as well as shades, revenants, and liches. A sentient being who is brought forth by a member of the Akashic League may take any one of those forms. How and when did the dragon you referenced die?”
    Nico, the green dragon tutor whom Baltic had reluctantly engaged for Brom’s education, smiled at me as he passed by carrying a large covered tray and a small hatchet.
    “Oh. Um, I’m not exactly sure.”
    The man sighed heavily. “Your chance of success in raising the spirit or entity will depend directly on the amount of information you can give the person assisting you.”
    I made a rude face at the phone. “I’m sorry. I’ll try to dig up more information, but really, I think it’s best that I talk directly to the person who will be doing the summoning.”
    Pavel, armed with a coil of rope, a small chain saw, and a plate of pastel-colored cupcakes, passed me with a determined look on his face, and disappeared into the yew shrubs.
    “Well . . .” The click of keys on a keyboard followed. “As it happens, we do have a Summoner who lists dragons as an area of expertise. Would you like to book her services?”
    I agreed, and provided the man with the necessary information, thanking him when he finally parted with the name and phone number I wanted.
    “Her services will not be cheap,” the man warned before I hung up. “Nor will she take kindly to a client who wastes her time.”
    “Oh, I don’t think we have that to worry about,” I told him, getting up to see just what was going on in the shrubs, all the while planning what I would say to Dr. Kostich.
    After admiring the new archaeological dig site (Nico had devised a way to incorporate lessons in history, botany, biology, and a little physical education in a manner that kept Brom’s interest), I returned to the house to call Maura Lo. She didn’t answer her phone, so I left a voice mail saying I was interested in hiring her services for help with a dragon spirit.
    “I don’t suppose it is any good asking you to reconsider your plans.”
    I looked at the man standing in the doorway, hands on his hips, face set in a disgruntled expression, my stomach doing an excited flip at the sight of him. I wondered if I would ever be able to see him without that little wibble of pleasure. I sure hoped not. “I want this to end, Baltic.”
    He shook his head, coming into the sitting room, pulling me into a gentle embrace. “It serves no purpose, mate. The weyr believes only what they wish to believe.”
    “Only because they’re too stubborn to see the truth, but we can help them overcome that.”
    His sigh ruffled my hair. “I wish that I could understand your desire to be a part of the weyr.”
    I snuggled against him, breathing in the wonderful Baltic scent that never failed to leave me a bit giddy. “I wish you could, too. But since you can’t, you’re just going to have to accept that this is important to me. To us. I don’t want Brom or any of our children growing up in the middle of a war.”
    A wicked smile curled his lips as he pulled me tighter, grinding my hips against his. “Our time would be better spent working on those children.”
    “Tempting, but I think I’d rather have weyr peace first, so you can stop trying to woo me into bed. I’ll just get my things and then I’ll be ready to go. Where’s your girlfriend?”
    He stared at me with a slight frown.
    “Thala.”
    “I cannot decide if your jealousy of her is amusing or irritating,” he said thoughtfully. “Perhaps it is both.”
    “I’m not—oh, never mind. Is she here?”
    “No.” He looked away, suddenly cagey.
    “Where is she?”
    “She went to Italy last night after you tempted me away with caramel. My son will not come with us to the meeting with the wyverns. I will not have him put in danger.”
    “I didn’t intend for him to come, not that I think there’s any danger. Nico is out with him digging up what Brom insists is an ancient peat bog. He’s hoping for Viking treasure, so I don’t think we would be able to get him away even if we wanted him to come with us.”
    “Good. He would not be safe.”
    “Don’t be silly,” I said, going out to change into something more suited to the dignity of a meeting with wyverns. I was upstairs, in the middle of donning a white lace jacquard coat dress, white lace stockings, and the