Light Dragons 03 - Sparks Fly

it?”
    He didn’t answer me, of course-the Baltic who stood with such a stoic expression was the past Baltic, but I knew by the way his jaw was tensed that he was beset by grief. I moved next to him, watching the firelight play over the hard planes of his face, gilding the soft linen of his tunic scarlet and gold. I wanted to touch him, to hold him against the pain that I knew he was experiencing, but I was as insubstantial to him as the sparks that flew upward into the heavens.
    “It is done,” a deep, somber voice said from behind me.
    Baltic didn’t respond, his gaze locked on the fire.
    The dragons around us filed past the pyre, each stopping next to a page who held a small wooden casket. As each person passed the fire, he or she reached first into the box, then cast something into the fire before joining a solemn procession that snaked up the hill to the keep.
    “What is it you’re throwing on the fire?” I asked no one, moving closer to the page so I could see. Inside the box appeared to be sand ... until the page shifted, and the firelight caught the contents, making it glitter with a warmth I felt down to the tips of my toes.
    “Gold dust,” I said, wanting to run my fingers through it. “You put gold dust on the fire? Why?”
    One by one the dragons paid their respects to Baltic’s mother, until only three men were left.
    Baltic continued to stare at the fire, his eyes filled with pain, but his expression an unemotional mask. Constantine stood next to him.
    “It is as Alexei says, Baltic-it is done. You did everything you could for her. Now you must let her go.”
    “I did not save her,” Baltic said in a monotone. “I let them kill her.”
    “You couldn’t have known that Chuan Ren would strike her down in order to hurt you.” He gestured toward the third man. “Alexei didn’t know they would go that far. I didn’t dream they would do such a heinous thing. No one could know.”
    “Baltic knew,” a man’s voice said as a fourth person emerged from the shadows.
    “I might have known you’d show up,” I said, narrowing my eyes at the human form of the First Dragon. He turned to look at me, giving me a massive case of the heebie-jeebies until I realized he was staring beyond me, at the fire.
    Alexei made a low bow to the First Dragon. “You honor my Maerwyn’s memory with your presence, dragonsire.”
    Constantine looked more than a little awestruck, bowing and stammering some inanity or other before glancing nervously at Baltic, but the latter continued to stare at the fire, too bound in his grief to acknowledge even the appearance of his father.
    The First Dragon stood before the fire, staring deep into its depths. I wondered if I had mistaken what he had said in the sex shop. What did he feel at seeing the body of the woman he had taken as a mate? Was he sad at her loss? Did he miss her? They had a child together-surely he must feel something at her passing.
    And yet his face was as unreadable as Baltic’s.
    “Your Maerwyn should be alive,” the First Dragon finally said, switching his gaze to Baltic. Even in human form, as he was now, the First Dragon had an “other” sort of aura to him, some intangible quality about him that warned he wasn’t what he appeared. His expression, though, was usually neutral, sometimes benign. But now? I shivered, rubbing the goose bumps on my arms. His face was as austere and frigid as the cold winter air. “And she would be, had it not been for you.”
    Baltic at last turned his head, bowing it to acknowledge his father, but silent as a tomb.
    “Will you honor my request?” the First Dragon asked of him.
    “No.”
    The word was curt, but filled with conviction.
    “You are aware of the price of such defiance?”
    Baltic nodded.
    Constantine moved closer to him, saying under his breath, “God’s thumbs, Baltic, do not be so foolish. Take Chuan Ren as mate, and be done with this.”
    “Whoa now,” I said, blinking in surprise a few times. “Chuan Ren is who everyone wanted you to hook up with? Nasty, backstabbing Chuan Ren?”
    “I will take no dragon as a mate,” Baltic answered, surprising me yet again. He gestured at Alexei. “You heard the soothsayer yourself.”
    “Soothsayer?” The First Dragon shifted to look at Alexei. “Explain.”
    Alexei’s shoulders slumped. He looked weary beyond words, his grief, at least, etched into every line on his face. “Before she was killed, Maerwyn brought a soothsayer to the keep. She