Light Dragons 02 - The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

time.
    “No wonder your father wants help,” I told the mound of snow that once had been a dragon. “You died with my death on your soul. I don’t suppose a formal statement of forgiveness right now would do the trick, would it?” I took a deep breath. “Constantine Norka, wyvern of the silver dragons, I forgive you for killing me.”
    Nothing happened, but I didn’t honestly expect the First Dragon’s demand to be so easily met. Nothing is ever easy with dragons. I sighed and got to my feet, noting my location so I could bring Maura to it later.
    I stopped by the lair’s entrance to check on how the progress was going. To my surprise, no one was there. A distant crack had me spinning around, but it wasn’t the sound of a tree falling, as I expected.
    “The outer bailey has been breached,” I said sadly, watching as a stream of snow-covered men swarmed through the gate. The dragons headed straight for the inner bailey. I looked up to see the faint image of the walls, but there was no one left to defend Dauva now that its master was lying dead deep in the earth beneath the castle.
    “I can’t watch it,” I said, my heart filled with so much sadness for what happened.
    “Then don’t.” Thala emerged from a path leading to the north, giving me not more than the slightest glance. She nodded abruptly at the line of dragons as they rode into the inner bailey, right past where we stood. “You should go back to town if it is too distressing for you to see this.”
    Once again, she surprised me. “You can see them? The people from the past?”
    “Of course.” She bent over a smooth bit of glass laid out on a blue velvet cloth. “They do not matter. Nothing of the past matters. It is the present that should concern you.”
    I didn’t agree with that, but I knew arguing the point with her would serve no purpose. “Baltic is off reliving his own memories, I assume?”
    “So I gather.” She didn’t look up from her glass.
    I hesitated, not wanting to destroy her good mood but needing to get something off my chest. “I know that you have quite a long history with Baltic, longer than I had with him, and that you view me as some sort of interloper in the relationship, but I assure you that I’m not trying to steal his affection. He’s told me himself that he owes you a lot for resurrecting him, and although I know you’re in love with him—”
    Her head snapped up, a look of incredulity so stark in her eyes, I couldn’t doubt its veracity. “Love? Is that the only thing you can think of?”
    I gawked for a few seconds. “You’re not in love with him?”
    “No!” She gave me a scornful look before returning to her scrying glass.
    “Then why have you been so jealous of me?”
    “I am not jealous. Jealousy is a pathetic emotion borne by lesser beings.”
    “Well, you were sure something . You refused to even let me be a part of your rescue.”
    She made an annoyed gesture of dismissal. “I had been in a very trying situation for months. I was out of temper.”
    I conceded that being held captive would make me a bit testy as well, so I didn’t belabor that point. “I’m sorry if I assumed you were jealous of my relationship with Baltic, but you must admit, you have been more than a little hostile during the last week.”
    “We were very close to seeing our plans to fruition. Baltic’s attention to those plans wavered once you returned to his notice. I was rightfully annoyed that he would push aside efforts that have taken years to lay into place.”
    “Plans to retake Dauva?” I asked, suddenly suspicious.
    “And reclaim my mother’s sword,” she answered without looking up from her glass.
    I wondered if that was really true. Her expression seemed benign, but I couldn’t help but feel that her explanation lacked the ring of truth. I shrugged to myself, and told her I was going into Ziema for a little bit while she worked on unmaking the magic. She murmured something noncommittal in response.
    It took all of five minutes to drive to the small suburb of Ziema, which I had been told was the Latvian word for winter. I spent the time worrying about meeting a woman who could well be the head of a fell group of dragons.
    “If she is, she’s got to be too smart to mess with me,” I told myself as I waited on the train platform for Maura. “She has to know I won’t let her get away with harming Baltic in any way.”
    Seven minutes after our appointment time, a commuter train pulled in,