Light Dragons 03 - Sparks Fly

dragons?”
    “Not particularly, but since that’s where you are, it will have to suffice.”
    I blinked a couple of times, not sure what else to do. I couldn’t begin to imagine what Baltic would have to say to me when I informed him that his most hated enemy, the madman responsible for the destruction of so many lives, wanted to be a part of our sept, but now was not the time to dwell on the impossible.
    “Fine. You stop Thala, and I’ll get Baltic to let you into the sept. Deal?”
    “Deal,” he said, grabbing me by the shoulders and planting his mouth on mine.
    “Try that again, and you’re going to be wearing this upside your head,” I snarled, shaking the morning star at him.
    He just grinned as he slipped into incorporeal state and walked straight through the battle. I eyed it with some misgivings. About half the dragons lay dead or wounded, the remainder fighting with a ferocity that took me-and the others-by surprise. Just as Constantine reached where Baltic and Gabriel were keeping Thala busy, two things happened in short succession. The first was Drake suddenly emerging from behind me, a long ebony box in his hands.
    “You got it!” I cried.
    “Yes.” His gaze flickered out to the battle, obviously looking for Aisling.
    “Jim and Aisling are over there, on that big rock. Holland is there with her,” I said, pointing.
    “Ah.” He gave me a curious look, and somewhat reluctantly handed me the box. It had a long leather strap attached to it, which I slung over my chest.
    “Oh, thank you! You really are a talented thief.”
    “My reward?” he asked with one raised eyebrow.
    I edged toward the destroyed wall. “Can it wait until after things calm down?”
    “No.” He held out his hand.
    I reached into my pocket and brought out the case containing the phylactery, handing it to him.
    He opened it, both eyebrows raised. “The Avignon Phylactery?”
    “Yes.” I gave him a long, hard look. “I expect you to keep it safe, Drake.”
    He bowed and tucked it away inside his jacket. “I will treasure it.”
    “You’d better, or Baltic will want it back.”
    He was about to answer, but at an angry shout from István, he jumped through the destroyed wall, snatching up a sword in the process before he joined the fray.
    “Now we’re getting somewhere,” I said, applauding lightly when Pavel chased off a wounded dragon, returning to go after a pair of blue dragons who were attacking Baltic.
    “But not where you think you’re going,” a voice said behind me. “Give that to me!”
    “No,” I said, my jaw dropping a smidgen as Dr. Kostich, trailing bits of duct tape, strode toward me with a furious expression. “Savian said you were tied up and out of our way!”
    “I am an archimage,” he said through clenched teeth, his eyes all but spitting ire. “I am not put out of anyone’s way, let alone someone as nefarious as you and your gang of hoodlums. Return that sword to me this instant, or you will pay the penalty, and I assure you, Tully Sullivan, that it is a debt you do not wish to incur.”
    “My name is Ysolde de Bouchier,” I said, squaring my shoulders. “And it’s Baltic’s sword, not yours. You can just-”
    Luckily, there was an interruption at that moment to keep me from finishing what was going to be a very inappropriate suggestion. Unluckily, the reason for the interruption was imminent death and destruction.
    A blast of air and light sent everyone flying backward a few feet.
    “What the-that was an arcane blast,” I said, shaking my head as I stood up. “Baltic needs to watch where he’s aiming that.”
    “It wasn’t your gargantuan mate who cast that spell.” Dr. Kostich also got to his feet and was in the act of brushing himself off when he froze, his eyes narrowed as he stared toward Baltic.
    “It had to be. Only mages can call up arcane power like that.”
    “It was the woman,” he said, his lips barely moving.
    Goose bumps crawled down my arms. “Thala? But she’s a necromancer. She doesn’t have arcane power.”
    “She’s singing!” Pavel yelled, turning to face the rest of us as everyone, friend and foe alike, slowly rose from the ground. “Take cover!”
    “Sainted Mother, she’s going to sing another dirge,” I gasped, spinning around to find a place to hide. I grabbed Dr. Kostich by the arm and jerked him to the side, toward the missing wall.
    “No,” he said, pulling me back. “That building is about to