has told me. He said that Constantine destroyed Dauva rather than let it stand as a monument to the black dragons. The spells I had woven around it while it was being built ensured that it would remain hidden from all eyes but mine, the songs and banes driving away the mortals, as well as concealing it from poaching dragons and other beings.”
“Hmm.”
He gave me an odd look, half curious, half annoyed, but said nothing more as we marched deeper into the forest. There was a sense of magic around us, dampening the noises from outside the woods, as if this area was isolated by time from the busy city beyond. Birds called softly to each other, leaves rustled with the passage of unseen little animals, and a slow, gentle drip of water sounded all around us as moisture slid from the leaves to the rich, loamy soil below. The air smelled of earth, green things growing unhindered by man, sunlight dappling the ground. My heart lightened as we made our way through paths long lost, flickers of memories teasing the edge of my mind just as streams of sunlight teased through the leaves. I took a deep breath, savoring the scent of the woods, happiness flowing from the living things around us through me, making me want to laugh and run through the forest.
“Dauva,” I said, my eyes closed, my hands out as I reached blindly for something that was no longer there. “It’s Dauva.”
“It is.” Baltic took my hand, and I opened my eyes to find him smiling down at me, his black eyes lit from within with pleasure. It was as if the centuries had peeled away, leaving us standing in a time that no longer existed. “Welcome to my home, mate.”
I smiled, allowing him to lift me off my horse as I looked beyond him to the grey stone towers that seemed to rise to the very sky itself. The drawbridge we stood upon was not wide, but it was long, covering the broad stretch of moat surrounding two-thirds of the castle. The far side ended in a sheer cliff that dropped perilously into a gully below. It looked impregnable, as solid as the earth from which it rose, the three towers as imposing as the solid granite of their walls. “It’s beautiful, Baltic.”
And it was beautiful, in a stark, massive sort of way. It was the heart of the black dragon sept, its foundation, its soul, and I knew as Baltic led me across the drawbridge to the outer bailey that it would stand as a testament to black dragons for all the ages.
The light shifted, darkening to that of a cloudy sky, the wind picking up with winter chill. I shivered and rubbed my arms, glancing around. “This is like at Dragonwood—the past is imprinted on the present.”
“Yes.” Baltic looked with mild interest as shadowy forms of dragons long dead flitted past us. Beyond, Thala was hunched over an outcropping of rocks and ferns that was overlaid on the image of the nearest tower. “You must be envisioning it right before the fall. Not a very pleasant time, mate.”
“I can’t help it.” I stepped aside as a small group of men charged toward the drawbridge, the hooves of their horses ringing with steely bites on the wooden planks. “Was that you?”
Baltic glanced after the horsemen. “No. I was in the tunnels, fighting Kostya and his men.”
The image of Dauva wavered, and pain lanced me, regret at what could have been and sorrow at what was. I blinked away accompanying tears, knowing what pain Baltic must have felt the first time he beheld the ruins of his beloved stronghold.
“It wasn’t supposed to end this way,” I told him, rubbing his knuckles on my cheek. “It was supposed to stand forever.”
“Only love lasts forever,
“For someone who is commonly held as an example of all that is bad about dragons, you certainly are the most romantic man I’ve ever met,” I said, melting into his arms. “I love you, you know.”
“I know,” he said, his fire whipping around us as his lips teased mine.
I pinched his behind. He slapped mine, then wrapped an arm around me and spun me around. Visible through the partially translucent image of the castle, a small hill rose, covered in mossy rocks and giant ferns, their leaves forming great arches against the grey-brown stone. I glanced at the rocks, noticing the very faintest of images in the face nearest me, turning to the image of the tower next to us. On the lower quarter was an elaborate carved band depicting various saints. Scrambling up the far side of the mound, Thala appeared, frowning and kicking at small stones until she grunted her satisfaction and squatted, her hands drawing symbols in the air.
“The entrance to the lair?” I asked, accompanying Baltic to the top of the small hill.
“Yes. Kostya raided it a few months ago, but Thala arrived to protect it almost immediately thereafter, placing new songs and banes on it so that he could not take all that remained.”
I glanced at Thala as she examined the magic she’d layered on the entrance, wondering why she and not Baltic was in charge of protecting the lair. “You didn’t have guards on it once you knew Kostya was out and about?”
“It was not necessary. I knew that Thala would guard it. I had other things to take care of.”
“Other things like trying to steal May?”
His lips tightened. “I did not want the silver mate. I simply wanted the dragon heart.”
“Why?”
He slid me a questioning glance. “Why did I want the dragon heart?”
“Yes. From what Kaawa said about it, the only time it’s re-formed is either to re-shard it into different vessels or to use it for unimaginable power, like taking over the weyr, and I can’t believe you ever wanted to do that. You may be many things, Baltic, and you have committed acts that I may not have liked, but you’ve never been power- mad. So why did you want the dragon heart?”
“To re-form it is to summon the First Dragon,” he answered.
“You wanted to talk to him?” I searched his face for answers, but as usual, there were none there. Baltic was at his most dragon, his eyes glittering with a light that wasn’t human. “But . . . why?”
“Always you ask why, but the answer is ever before you,” he said, shaking his head with mock exasperation. He lifted my hand and kissed my fingers.
“It was me,” I said softly, reading the truth in the depths of his mysterious eyes. “You wanted to ask the First Dragon to bring me back. That’s why you tried to kidnap May. And attacked the
“The promise of having you back was worth any sacrifice,” he said simply.
“Not that of innocent dragons. Could you have stopped Fiat from killing his own people?”
He was silent for a minute, brushing a strand of hair from my cheek. “I don’t know. I didn’t think he would go through with his plans. I thought . . .”
“What?” I prompted.
He hesitated. “I thought his plans too mad to be successful. I still think they were.”
Thala shouted for him, asking for his help to move a heavy rock. He gave my hand a squeeze, then climbed up to heave the boulder out of the way.
I thought about what he didn’t say—that Fiat’s plans couldn’t have been successful . . . not without help. Not unless someone else was involved, someone like the leader of a band of outlaw dragons. I looked at my watch. I had just an hour before I was supposed to meet with Maura back in Riga.
“I’m going to look around a bit,” I called to Baltic, waving a hand vaguely to indicate the trees. “It’s fascinating seeing Dauva as it was, even if it’s not real.”
“There is nothing to see out there but Constantine’s army.” Baltic climbed down and took my hand again, leading me past a fallen tree to where a ghostly tower thrust up out of the earth. The light shifted back and forth across the bushes and leaves, to solid stone and mortar, faint, distant noises reaching us as the castle’s few remaining occupants ran about preparing for the siege that would destroy most, if not all, of them. “Thala will be busy for some time unmaking the magic. We will go into the tunnels and watch as I battle Kostya.”
“I’ve already seen you die, thank you.” I pulled my hand from his. “And I don’t want to see it again.”
“That was only the end. We fought the traitors for almost a day before Kostya struck me down. You will enjoy watching me fight him. I did not wear heavy armor then, just a cuirass, but you always enjoyed seeing me wield a sword.”
