Light Dragons 02 - The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

mean.”
    “Yes,” he answered, finally turning to face me. “He sent me a message telling me he would make me suffer for my part in his downfall. While he was imprisoned, his threats did not worry me overly, but the blue wyvern has been careless in the past with Fiat, and I suspected that the next time he escaped, he would come straight for you and Brom. I was wrong.”
    “And how,” May agreed.
    “I love you,” I told him, standing on my toes to press a kiss to his lips regardless of the others in the room.
    He wrapped his arms around me, hoisting me up so I could kiss him properly, his fire racing through us both, wrapping us in a blanket of arousal, love, need, and a sense of rightness that almost made all our troubles seem to fade into insignificance.
    Almost.
    “Given Fiat’s madness, and the fact that he slaughtered four blue dragons who had been tasked with guarding him, as well as Chuan Ren, we are willing to readdress the question of Baltic’s involvement with the slaughter of the sixty-seven blue dragons earlier this year.” Drake’s gaze held impersonal interest as I disengaged myself from the sweet lure of Baltic’s mouth. “For that reason, I have called a sárkány to discuss rescinding the declaration of war between the weyr and your sept.”
    “Woot!” Aisling said, flinging herself on Drake. “I knew you would make it all right.”
    “It is far from all right,” Kostya said as Drake gave Aisling a swift kiss. “The cessation of hostilities is contingent upon agreement of all the wyverns, and that will not be given until we have interviewed again the two survivors of the attack. In addition, an investigation will be launched regarding Baltic’s lieutenant, specifically the reason she wanted Fiat free.”
    “But once that’s done, then we’ll be a part of the weyr?” I asked, sighing in relief.
    “No.”
    The word burst my happy fantasy world where everything turned out all right. “Why not?”
    Kostya’s nostrils flared as he nodded toward Gabriel. “Evidently you have an agreement that you have not yet fulfilled.”
    “What sort of an . . . oh.” Enlightenment dawned as Gabriel’s gaze locked with that of Baltic.
    “The silver dragons are willing to accept, contingent, as Kostya noted, upon a further interview with the survivors, that Baltic’s involvement with the deaths of the blue dragons is circumstantial rather than actual, and for that reason I am prepared to agree to a provisional cessation of the war. However, admittance to the weyr is another subject, and we cannot condone such an act without a good-faith gesture from you.”
    “The curse.” I slid a look up at Baltic. “It’s time it ends, Baltic. I’m alive, Constantine is dead, and we’re together.”
    I swear he just about turned to stone. “I have no reason to lift it, mate.”
    “We won’t get into the weyr if you don’t,” I pointed out.
    His gaze was as stony as the rest of him. “The silver dragons were responsible for your death, and the destruction of our sept. I cannot simply forgive that.”
    “But—”
    “No. About this I will not yield.” He shook off my hand, and with a glower at Gabriel, left the room, a silent Pavel on his heels.
    “I’m sorry. I’ll work on him,” I told Gabriel and May. “Don’t give up yet.”
    “You are the only hope we have,” Gabriel told me, taking my hand and bowing over it. “Do not fail us, Ysolde.”
    “I really wish people would stop telling me that,” I murmured as I hurried after Baltic. “It’s starting to give me a complex.”

Chapter Fourteen
    T he drive home was conducted in silence, except for a brief interchange that began with Baltic’s insistence that he would drive.
    “I have done as you asked, and against my better judgment, allowed the wyverns to question me about my time in Europe when Fiat was slaying his sept. Now you will tell me about your agreement with Kostich,” he said as he narrowly missed plowing us into an elm tree that grew perilously close to the edge of the country lane upon which we were driving. He shot me an irritated look when I screamed, clutching the seat belt that crossed my chest, jabbing at the window with a frantic finger. Luckily, the ditch a bicyclist flung himself into (rather than be mowed down by Baltic) was filled with tall grass. “Mate, you will cease reacting as if I am not competent to drive this car.”
    “Glory of god, Baltic! If you kill, maim, or otherwise injure anyone on