Light Dragons 02 - The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

done?”
    “Oh, thank god.” I covered the mouthpiece for a moment. “He’s all right, Aisling.”
    “Thank god,” she said as well, then grabbed Jim and pulled it after her to another grouping of chairs in order to give me a little privacy.
    “Where are you?” Baltic demanded again. A horrible noise followed, a combination of breaking glass and screaming metal, followed by a muffled explosion. “Bloody hell!”
    “What’s going on? What was that?” Fear gripped my heart despite the sound of his voice.
    “Pavel?” Another crash of glass sounded sharp in my ear, followed by Baltic grunting as more metal screamed. “The door is off. Are you hurt?”
    Distantly, I could hear Pavel answer, “Just my arm. Air bags saved us.”
    “Oh, my god, you were in a car? You crashed? Are you all right?” I stood up, spinning one way and then another, needing to go to him but having no idea where he was.
    “Yes. This car is defective. We will get another. Now you will tell me why I felt as I did the time Constantine killed you.”
    I took a couple more deep breaths, pointing out to myself that if he could talk, he was fine. “Something happened when Dr. Kostich helped me lift my borked spell off of Jim.”
    “Your what spell?”
    “Borked. You know, wonky.”
    He sighed, and in the distance I heard a whoomp noise. “Mate, I know you believe you are human, but you are six hundred years old. You do not need to adopt the language of mortals to prove otherwise.”
    “Actually, I’m more like six minutes old, but that’s neither here nor there. What was that whooshing noise I just heard?”
    “The defective car has burst into flames. What happened with Kostich? Why did it feel as if you died?”
    “I did die.”
    Stentorian breathing was all I could hear for half a minute. “Why,” he finally asked in a voice that sounded strangled, “did you die?”
    “I just told you. Kostich and I were lifting the spell off of Jim, and it went bad. The backlash of the release of arcane power killed me. The First Dragon resurrected me. Again.”
    Baltic swore profoundly. “I’ll never hear the end of that,” he muttered before raising his voice as sirens sounded near him. “Stay where you are. I will acquire a new vehicle and fetch you.”
    “Oh, no you don’t. You stay where you are and I’ll get a car and pick you and Pavel up. Is his arm hurt badly? Are you hurt in any way?”
    “Mate, do not give me orders when you have just come close to destroying me. Stay there. We will find you.”
    We compromised after five minutes of argument to meet at Aisling and Drake’s house.
    “Are you sure Drake won’t mind my showing up?” I asked Aisling as our taxi pulled to a stop at a graceful house in a exclusive neighborhood.
    “Not at all,” she answered, then added with a little grimace, “And if he does, tough noogies. I want you to see the babies. They’re beyond adorable, even though I’m hardly impartial. Jim, stop that. Your package is exactly the way it used to be. Ysolde, I hope you don’t mind being frisked. Drake’s security since the twins were born has almost gone past what’s tolerable, but he means well.”
    It took a good three minutes for me to be scanned, searched, and have an oral swab taken to determine whether I had any communicable diseases, but at last I made it into the foyer of the house, and Aisling bustled me upstairs to the nursery to see her babies.
    The twins were sleeping in identical intricately carved wooden cradles, swathed with lace and filled with a number of stuffed toy dragons. I duly admired them, chatted with their nanny, a young green dragon named Grace, and reassured Aisling that I would return at a later date when the twins were awake so I could admire them as they obviously deserved.
    “Drake wanted to name them both with Hungarian names, but I was adamant that I get a Celtic name in there—my family has always had Celtic names—so I picked Iarlaith, even though the pronunciation trips everyone up. Drake chose Ilona’s name. It means ‘beautiful. ’ Now, while we’re on the subject of children, tell me how Brom is doing. May said he had a grand time while visiting her and Gabriel, but I hope he hasn’t been affected by this stupid war.”
    “Not—”
    The door to the sitting room where we were having tea was thrown open, and Baltic stood in the doorway, bristling with indignation.
    “—in the least.”
    “Oh, dear,” Aisling said, eyeing him. “I hope