“Mating marks heal slower than other injuries. Don’t worry about them, May,” he said with a smile. “You gave me much pleasure when you embraced the shard.”
I looked back at my hands, my emotions conflicted. I couldn’t deny that the experience we’d just shared had been beyond anything I’d ever imagined, but I didn’t like the strange feelings that possessed me. “It was the shard that changed my hands? It wasn’t just something that happens to wyvern mates?”
He watched me for a moment, kissing the tips of my fingers before releasing them. “I’m sorry you were frightened, May. I would like to assure you that being the vessel to the shard will change nothing about you, but I can’t. It is part of you now, and until such time as it is removed, you will experience some of the sensations of what it is to be a dragon.”
I shivered, cold despite the relative balminess of the night air. I suddenly realized that I was naked, my clothing in shreds around us. A little noise of distress slipped out of me as I sorted through the torn fabric, trying to find something wearable.
“Take this,” Gabriel said as I clutched the wad of useless clothing.
I took the shirt he had pulled off, fortunately still whole since Gabriel had had the presence of mind earlier to unbutton it while I was struggling to get out of my clothing.
“It’s lucky you are so small,” he said after a quick search in the backseat of the car. “There’s nothing else here. I’m sorry I can’t offer you my pants, but they would not fit. I had not expected that we would need a change of clothing, or I would not have sent Maata and Tipene off with our things.”
“This’ll do,” I said, buttoning the shirt all the way down. The tails reached to my knees, and I had to roll the sleeves up several inches, but at least it was a covering. “I hate to think what we’re going to tell your mother, though. She’s going to know just exactly what we were doing.”
“I think everyone within a hundred-mile radius knew what we were doing,” he answered, amusement in his beautiful eyes. “You yelled your pleasure loud enough to wake the sleeping animals.”
I made a face at him.
He pulled me to him, kissing the tip of my nose. “It pleased me to know you were so affected.”
I rubbed my cheek against his chest, saying nothing, troubled by the remembered feelings that had possessed me. I didn’t want to be slowly taken over by a dragon essence so potent it could change me into something alien. I was happy being myself, troubles and all.
The question was, did I have a choice in the matter?
Chapter Twelve
“We should get moving. My mother will no doubt know we are near and come looking for us if we do not arrive in a reasonable time.”
“Does she know you’re here because she’s your mother, a dragon expert, or a shaman?” I asked a few minutes later as we were once again bouncing our way across the arid near desert of the region.
“The answer is probably all of them. As a shaman, she knows who enters the area. She senses their beings and keeps track of those who belong to her. But she’s also my mother, and I have no doubt that word reached her of our arrival in Lajamanu.”
I thought about that for a few minutes, arguing with myself about whether or not I should ask the question that was uppermost. I decided that it was better to ask now, before I met Gabriel’s mother. “You mentioned your father to me once but haven’t said anything about him since. He’s not dead, is he?”
“Dead?” Gabriel looked surprised. “What gave you that idea?”
“Well, you’ve talked a lot about your mother, but not so much about your father. I just figured they wouldn’t be separated unless one of them was . . . well, dead.”
“He’s not dead.”
“Oh. Good. He’s here with your mother, then?”
“No.” Gabriel kept his eyes on the nonexistent road, avoiding breaking the axle on rocks and bits of dead vegetation, driving carefully through the deepening light, occasional flashes of animals in the headlights making me jump. “You know of the curse, Mayling. You know that no mate is born to a silver dragon. That includes my parents.”
“I know about it. I just thought . . .” I made a vague gesture. “I just assumed they must be mated in everything but name.”
“They aren’t. My father lives in Tanzania. The only thing he shares with my mother, my sisters and me excluded, is a passion for animals. That’s how they met. My father came to Australia a few centuries before the white settlers, wanting to see for himself the wildlife that was so abundant here. My mother was shaman for one of the aboriginal tribes and healed him when he got himself into trouble with a tiger snake. He stayed for about ten years, but eventually they went their separate ways.”
“That’s rather sad.” I mused on how I’d feel if one of the other wyverns attempted to steal my shard-infested self from Gabriel. “I take it your mother is immortal, then? How can she be that if she’s not his mate?”
“She’s a shaman.”
“And shamans are immortal?” That puzzled me. I’d never heard of shamans being anything but mortal.
“Not technically. Shamans can walk in the Dreaming, though. My mother simply sends her spirit there when her mortal body wears out, and returns to the mortal world when she’s reborn.”
“Ahhh. Very smart. How many times has she come back?”
“Too many to count. That should be her camp up there.” His eyes glittered in the darkness of the car as the headlights picked out a small cluster of ratty tents. As the noise of the car reached it, a couple of people stood up from where they’d been sitting around a large campfire.
A little spike of nervousness gripped my stomach.
“You have nothing to be nervous about, little bird. My mother will love you,” Gabriel said, reading either my mind or the wary expression that no doubt planted itself on my face.
A tall, elegant-looking woman with skin the color of espresso beans strode forward, her smile when she saw Gabriel as warm as the waves of heat that still rose off the cooling dirt of the desert.
She called out a greeting and enveloped him in a huge bear hug, kissing him on both cheeks and examining his face for a moment before she allowed him to introduce me.
“You look well, child. You look . . . happy.”
“For that, you have May to thank,” he said, holding out his hand for me.
“I am Kaawa Mani. I have heard of you from my friends, child,” she said as she eyed me from the top of my head down to my dusty walking shoes.
“I’m very sorry about my appearance. We had a little accident with my clothing,” I said as she paused to note the fact that I was clad in only Gabriel’s shirt. “But it’s a great pleasure to meet you.”
She looked for a second at the hand I held out, then examined my face closely. I had to steel myself to keep from shadowing, so piercing was her gaze. I felt naked before her, as if she’d immediately stripped away all the outer layers of my being and was looking directly into my soul. “You share a dreaming with wintiki, the night bird,” she said, suddenly hugging me.
I was surrounded in the warmth of her being and felt immediately welcomed into something that seemed to encompass both her and the earth itself. “I do? I hope that’s good.”
Kaawa laughed. “It is rare for a nonindigenous person to share a dreaming. It is a good sign.”
“Then I’m very pleased,” I said, glancing at Gabriel. He stood watching us with a rather somber expression. “Although I’m not quite sure I understand what exactly a dreaming is. I thought it was the same as the shadow world.”
“Dreaming can be many things,” she said, putting her arm around me and escorting me to the fire, where three other people stood waiting. “Generally it is the story of origins, of how things came to be. But in your world, it can also mean an existence beyond the mortal plain. It is all that, and more. Do not attempt to understand it all; just simply accept that it is.”
“That sounds like very wise advice.”
“
This is Adobi, Maka, and Pari,” she said, introducing the three men who greeted me with big smiles and firm handshakes. “They are fellow rangers from the local area. Before them, I name you daughter, and so shall you be known to all. Gabriel, I think you remember Pari from—what on earth?”
She had turned to face him and obviously just noticed the red stripes he bore on his sides. I felt my face flush and had to fight to keep from shadowing as she marched over to examine the markings.
“These are mating marks,” she said, straightening up. “Dragon mating marks. I thought you said your wintiki was a shadow walker?”
A small fire broke out at my feet. The three men, dressed in identical dusty khaki shirts and shorts, looked askance and stepped back a few paces as I stomped it out.
“There was a situation with the Lindorm Phylactery,” Gabriel said slowly, glancing briefly at the three others.
“You may speak in front of them. They will not carry tales,” his mother said, pulling him toward the fire.
He took my hand and pulled me with him. One of the rangers, the oldest, a man with gray hair and wise brown eyes, waved his hand toward a camp stool.
“Thank you, I’m fine,” I murmured, and carefully perched myself on a beat-up plastic cooler that was evidently also used as a seat.
“I think you’d better tell me about it,” Kaawa said, and offered us both coffee.
Gabriel quickly recounted the events of the last day. I shifted uncomfortably when her gaze slipped to me as he told how I had misheard him, resulting in the phylactery being broken, and I had to resort to sitting on my hands when my fingers repeatedly ignited.
“That is all very interesting,” she said slowly, her gaze searching his face. “But you have not yet mentioned the most interesting part of all.”
Gabriel’s lips thinned. His knees burst into flame.
“Sorry,” I said, and focused hard on damping down the fire. It fizzled out to nothing.
“May is feeling the effects of the dragon shard,” he said as an explanation. “Hence the mating marks. As you can see, she is still learning to control the fire.”
“Yes, yes, I understand that—it was such with Ysolde, when she became the Avignon Phylactery—but that is not what I mean, and you know it. Tell me about this dragon who could walk in the Dreaming.”
Gabriel was silent for a moment. “I believe it is as you think. I do not understand how he could survive, and yet the proof is before us.”
“Bah,” she said, making a dismissive gesture as she poured herself a cup of thick black coffee and took one of the canvas chairs. “Resurrection is not difficult. It can be done. But for a dragon to walk in the Dreaming, to be able to interact in there . . .” She shook her head. “That is truly a feat I had not thought possible. You are certain he started to take the phylactery from you, wintiki?”
I nodded.
“Then Baltic must have been resurrected by someone very special indeed,” she said thoughtfully, her gaze on the fire.
“But that’s unlikely, isn’t it?” I asked.
Gabriel’s nod was slow in coming. “The signs point to it, and yet it seems to me impossible.”
“I agree it fits with everything that’s happened lately,” I said, pausing to pick my way through my conflicting thoughts. “Or does it? I could swear that the man who was in the shadow world with me was genuinely surprised to see the phylactery, and he tried to take it from me. If you suppose it was Baltic back from the dead, as I assume you must from everything that’s happened, why would he have given Kostya the phylactery if he wanted it for himself?”
“I don’t know,” Gabriel admitted. “It doesn’t seem to make sense, and yet, I have felt for the last few decades that something was not right in the weyr. There was a disturbance, a faint ripple of something that should not have been there.”
“He gets that from me,” Kaawa told me with obvious pride. “His good looks come from his father—have you met him? Horrible personality, but such a good lover, it made you forget about the former for a while. But it gives me great pleasure to know that Gabriel’s finer points come from me.”
“I can see that they do,” I agreed politely.
“You don’t yet, but you will,” she said complacently before returning to the subject at hand. “I know that you wish to consult me about May becoming the phylactery—what are you going to call yourself, child?”
I was a bit surprised. “What am I going to call myself?”
“Yes. All of the phylactery are named. That is to identify the shards within. You must bear an official name since you are now the vessel.”
“I don’t know,” I said, looking in openmouthed surprise at Gabriel. “I have to change my name?”
“Not change your name, but it is tradition to name each phylactery.” He thought for a moment. “You could use your surname, unless you think your twin would object.”
“I don’t see why she would. So now I’m May Northcott, doppelganger, wyvern’s mate, consort to Magoth, and also the Northcott Phylactery?” I blew out a breath. “Why am I suddenly feeling overwhelmed?”
Gabriel’s dimples flashed. “The wyvern’s mate is the most important part, and you handle that extremely well.”
The look in his eyes brought the fire within me to roaring life, sudden pinpricks of pain causing me to leap to my feet as I pulled my hands out from where I had them tucked under my thighs to keep the flames from sprouting.
My fingers were back to being silver scaled, and scarlet tipped.
“Fascinating, simply fascinating,” Kaawa said, taking one of my hands to examine it closely. “I’ve read of Ysolde de Bouchier, of course. She detailed her experiences in becoming the Avignon Phylactery quite well, but it’s not the same thing as seeing it in person. My dear, I hate to be a nagging mother, but would you put out the fire in my tent? It’s the only one I have, and I don’t have plans to go back to town for another fortnight.”
Two of the rangers had risen at the same time I twirled around to see one of the tents on fire. I closed my eyes, instinctively shadowing as I concentrated on putting out the fire. By the time it was out and I had deshadowed, the two younger rangers were backing away from the camp. Pari, the older man, simply examined me with interested eyes.
“You have made a good choice,” Kaawa told Gabriel, giving him a smile. “She will keep you from being bored.”
He laughed. “Boredom was never an issue, but I disagree that May is a good choice—she is the only choice.”
A little stab of pain pierced my heart. He was right—I was the only one who could be his mate, whether or not he wanted me to be so.
“Stop that, little bird. You know I did not mean it in that way,” he said.
“Stop reading my mind,” I parried.
“I was reading your charming face, if you must know,” he said, brushing his thumb across my chin. “You don’t hide your thoughts very well.”
I let my gaze drop, not wanting to discuss the issue in front of others.
Kaawa gazed from Gabriel to me with a startled expression. “You can read her mind? Then truly you must be fated to be together. It is very rare for dragons to do that. You must be special indeed, wintiki.”
“She is, which is why I do not wish to spend the rest of our lives fighting off challengers,” Gabriel said. “I am prepared to deal with anyone who thinks he can take my mate away, but now that she bears the fifth shard, she will be prey to anyone who wishes to use her. I do not want to subject her to that.”
“No, of course not,” Kaawa agreed.
“Is it possible to get rid of the shard?” I asked her. “In some way that it won’t be harmed, that is?”
“And will not harm May,” Gabriel added.
“Hmm.” Kaawa studied the fire again, clearly lost in thought. “The dragon heart is the essence of dragonkin, that which formed with the first dragon. It was he who recognized that its power would be too much for any one dragon to wield, and so he separated it into five pieces
, the shards you know now. One was given to the green wyvern, one each to red and black, and two to the blue dragons.”
“Two? Why two?”
“The first dragon formed the blue sept. He kept a shard for himself, and one for his sept, given to the wyvern he chose.”
“Is he still around? The first dragon, I mean?” I asked, wondering if there was some connection between him and the mysterious Baltic, who may or may not be pulling the strings for everything going on.
“No,” Gabriel said. “No one is certain he ever truly existed. He is more myth than reality.”
“He existed. He still exists, in all dragonkin,” Kaawa said with calm assurance.
“So the shards were divided up. How did this Ysolde person end up having one?” I asked.
“Ysolde was mated to the black dragon Baltic but was claimed by Constantine Norka as his mate. There is some confusion as to which wyvern she accepted— her diaries for that time are missing. But we do know that she was torn up by the Endless War, and determined to bring about its end before more dragons died at the hands of the two men who fought over her. She somehow acquired the shard of the first dragon, and used it along with the shards of Baltic and Constantine in an attempt to bind together the other shards. It didn’t work, of course—the dragon heart has a mind of its own, and it did not wish to be used in such a manner—and in the process, the phylactery which held the first dragon’s shard was destroyed, and it claimed her as its vessel.”
“What happened to Ysolde?” I asked. “I’ve heard her name mentioned before. Is she still alive?”
Kaawa was silent for a moment, absently stirring the fire with a long stick. “She disappeared when Baltic was killed by his heir. Some said that was proof she was truly his mate, but there is some evidence that she survived his death, remaining hidden. Nothing was heard from her after Constantine Norka was killed by an avalanche, however, so it could be that she was really his mate. It’s likely we’ll never know.”
“And was the shard destroyed with her?”