Up In Smoke
Page 22
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‘‘Nothing is more valuable to a dragon than gold,’’ he answered, nodding as a couple of people greeted him. ‘‘Platinum dilutes the scent of gold. No one will know you are wearing it so long as you keep it hidden.’’
I made a wordless noise of unhappiness, about to launch into a formal objection when he stopped me, leaning close to speak in my ear. ‘‘Mayling, the phylactery is beyond price. I could not leave it behind, nor can I wear it at this gathering. It is too dangerous. You must guard it for me until we are finished here.’’
‘‘But what if someone knows I have it?’’
‘‘No one can take it from you,’’ he answered with a flicker of emotion deep in his eyes. ‘‘I was not idle while you were in Abaddon. I knew this day would come, and that I must entrust the phylactery to you. That is why the casing has been spelled and warded so that if anyone but a silver dragon touches it, it will cause damage. Should someone try to snatch it from you, they will receive an intense charge of electricity, enough to incapacitate them.’’
I stared down at my boobs in horror.
‘‘Have no fear, little bird,’’ he said, tipping my head up to give me a swift, reassuring kiss. ‘‘I would not risk your life even for the Lindorm Phylactery. You are my mate, thus you are immune to the spells bound to it.’’
‘‘I’m glad to hear that,’’ I said, shrugging my shoulders a few times to get used to the metal lodged between my breasts. It warmed quickly to skin temperature but left me feeling very aware that a priceless artifact was stuffed down my bra.
Gabriel flashed his dimples at me and escorted me down an aisle that cut through the chairs, Maata and Tipene following silently. He stopped for a moment when a couple of people rose and greeted him, speaking in a lyrical but unfamiliar language.
I am not a nervous person by nature, but I will admit that the situation gave me a nearly overwhelming desire to slip into the shadows. The room was too brightly lit, however, the lights glittering on gold-paneled walls and matching golden furniture, and even off a gold and old rose carpet. I suspected the dragons chose the room as their meeting place more for the ambiance than for functionality, but none of that made me feel any more comfortable.
Covertly, I brushed a bit off lint off the black wool pants Gabriel had bought me that morning, tweaking the tight cuff of the blouse he had presented me with earlier, saying he’d had it specially made for me. It was a very soft, silky black material he called dragonweave, heavily embroidered with real silver thread and precious gems in an intricate design of fanciful dragons that leaped and danced around the shirt. It was very pretty, and although I admired it greatly, not to mention worried about wearing what must surely be such an expensive item, I didn’t think much about it until I put it on. Then I noticed that the black material beneath the embroidery had shadows in it—shadows that seemed to move of their own accord. Although the value of the shirt weighed heavily on my mind, prompting me to make a mental promise I wouldn’t go near anything that could be spilled on it, wearing the shirt made me feel different somehow, as if I was more than what I was normally.
‘‘This is my mate, May Northcott,’’ Gabriel said suddenly in English, turning to present me to three dragons. They wore cloth bright with black and silver African designs, the man in a loose-fitting tunic and pants, the women in garments resembling caftans, with head ties made of the same material. All three murmured a greeting, their silver eyes oddly startling against dark mahogany skin.
‘‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’’ I said politely, knowing better than to offer my hand. Citizens of the Otherworld did not touch one another unless invited to do so, either overtly or indirectly. Too much could be sensed by skin-to-skin contact, and although I wasn’t sure the dragons followed such etiquette, I didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with members of Gabriel’s sept.
‘‘This is Eniiyi and Nkese,’’ Gabriel introduced the women. ‘‘They are from Nigeria. Eniiyi is a close friend of my mother’s.’’
The older woman studied me for a moment, a curious look in her eyes; then without warning she enveloped me in a hug that threatened to squeeze the breath right out of me. ‘‘Kaawa will be pleased with this one,’’ she said as she released me.
I assumed Kaawa was Gabriel’s mother, wondering about the ‘‘this one’’ comment—had Gabriel brought other women home for parental approval?
Gabriel said nothing, just nodded and introduced me to the male dragon. ‘‘Cibo is from Botswana. He had business in England and stopped in Paris for the sárkány.’’
‘‘I cannot express just how pleased we all are to know that a mate has been found for Gabriel,’’ Cibo said in a clipped English accent. He didn’t hug me, but he did take one of my hands in both of his as he spoke. ‘‘Not only is he worthy of such an honor, it brings hope to those of us who have yearned for mates of our own.’’
‘‘Thank you. I will do my best to live up to the job.’’
He released my hand, bowed to Gabriel, and returned to his seat. We continued down the aisle toward the long conference table, but before we got to it I asked Gabriel in a low whisper, ‘‘Is that all the silver dragons who are here?’’
‘‘Yes. We did not know until yesterday when you would be released, so there has not been time for other members of the sept to travel to Paris. Most of them live outside of Europe. Eniiyi and Nkese were here awaiting your arrival. My mother wished to be here to greet you, but her work kept her from coming. We will make a trip to Australia to see her soon.’’
I glanced around, trying to estimate the number of people present. ‘‘There have to be at least two hundred people here. Are you saying all these dragons live in Paris?’’
‘‘No. Most are blue dragons, who live all over Europe. That group over there are green dragons, summoned by Drake. The ones at the back of the room are red dragons.’’
‘‘But our sept is really underrepresented,’’ I said, worrying about the imbalance of at least fifty percent more blue dragons to the other three septs. ‘‘Is that going to affect anything? And how did they all get here so quickly?’’
‘‘The numbers of members mean nothing in this situation; only a wyvern and his or her mate can speak at a sárkány. The other members are here just to see history being made. They assembled quickly once word was received about your release.’’
I made a wordless noise of unhappiness, about to launch into a formal objection when he stopped me, leaning close to speak in my ear. ‘‘Mayling, the phylactery is beyond price. I could not leave it behind, nor can I wear it at this gathering. It is too dangerous. You must guard it for me until we are finished here.’’
‘‘But what if someone knows I have it?’’
‘‘No one can take it from you,’’ he answered with a flicker of emotion deep in his eyes. ‘‘I was not idle while you were in Abaddon. I knew this day would come, and that I must entrust the phylactery to you. That is why the casing has been spelled and warded so that if anyone but a silver dragon touches it, it will cause damage. Should someone try to snatch it from you, they will receive an intense charge of electricity, enough to incapacitate them.’’
I stared down at my boobs in horror.
‘‘Have no fear, little bird,’’ he said, tipping my head up to give me a swift, reassuring kiss. ‘‘I would not risk your life even for the Lindorm Phylactery. You are my mate, thus you are immune to the spells bound to it.’’
‘‘I’m glad to hear that,’’ I said, shrugging my shoulders a few times to get used to the metal lodged between my breasts. It warmed quickly to skin temperature but left me feeling very aware that a priceless artifact was stuffed down my bra.
Gabriel flashed his dimples at me and escorted me down an aisle that cut through the chairs, Maata and Tipene following silently. He stopped for a moment when a couple of people rose and greeted him, speaking in a lyrical but unfamiliar language.
I am not a nervous person by nature, but I will admit that the situation gave me a nearly overwhelming desire to slip into the shadows. The room was too brightly lit, however, the lights glittering on gold-paneled walls and matching golden furniture, and even off a gold and old rose carpet. I suspected the dragons chose the room as their meeting place more for the ambiance than for functionality, but none of that made me feel any more comfortable.
Covertly, I brushed a bit off lint off the black wool pants Gabriel had bought me that morning, tweaking the tight cuff of the blouse he had presented me with earlier, saying he’d had it specially made for me. It was a very soft, silky black material he called dragonweave, heavily embroidered with real silver thread and precious gems in an intricate design of fanciful dragons that leaped and danced around the shirt. It was very pretty, and although I admired it greatly, not to mention worried about wearing what must surely be such an expensive item, I didn’t think much about it until I put it on. Then I noticed that the black material beneath the embroidery had shadows in it—shadows that seemed to move of their own accord. Although the value of the shirt weighed heavily on my mind, prompting me to make a mental promise I wouldn’t go near anything that could be spilled on it, wearing the shirt made me feel different somehow, as if I was more than what I was normally.
‘‘This is my mate, May Northcott,’’ Gabriel said suddenly in English, turning to present me to three dragons. They wore cloth bright with black and silver African designs, the man in a loose-fitting tunic and pants, the women in garments resembling caftans, with head ties made of the same material. All three murmured a greeting, their silver eyes oddly startling against dark mahogany skin.
‘‘It’s a pleasure to meet you,’’ I said politely, knowing better than to offer my hand. Citizens of the Otherworld did not touch one another unless invited to do so, either overtly or indirectly. Too much could be sensed by skin-to-skin contact, and although I wasn’t sure the dragons followed such etiquette, I didn’t want to start off on the wrong foot with members of Gabriel’s sept.
‘‘This is Eniiyi and Nkese,’’ Gabriel introduced the women. ‘‘They are from Nigeria. Eniiyi is a close friend of my mother’s.’’
The older woman studied me for a moment, a curious look in her eyes; then without warning she enveloped me in a hug that threatened to squeeze the breath right out of me. ‘‘Kaawa will be pleased with this one,’’ she said as she released me.
I assumed Kaawa was Gabriel’s mother, wondering about the ‘‘this one’’ comment—had Gabriel brought other women home for parental approval?
Gabriel said nothing, just nodded and introduced me to the male dragon. ‘‘Cibo is from Botswana. He had business in England and stopped in Paris for the sárkány.’’
‘‘I cannot express just how pleased we all are to know that a mate has been found for Gabriel,’’ Cibo said in a clipped English accent. He didn’t hug me, but he did take one of my hands in both of his as he spoke. ‘‘Not only is he worthy of such an honor, it brings hope to those of us who have yearned for mates of our own.’’
‘‘Thank you. I will do my best to live up to the job.’’
He released my hand, bowed to Gabriel, and returned to his seat. We continued down the aisle toward the long conference table, but before we got to it I asked Gabriel in a low whisper, ‘‘Is that all the silver dragons who are here?’’
‘‘Yes. We did not know until yesterday when you would be released, so there has not been time for other members of the sept to travel to Paris. Most of them live outside of Europe. Eniiyi and Nkese were here awaiting your arrival. My mother wished to be here to greet you, but her work kept her from coming. We will make a trip to Australia to see her soon.’’
I glanced around, trying to estimate the number of people present. ‘‘There have to be at least two hundred people here. Are you saying all these dragons live in Paris?’’
‘‘No. Most are blue dragons, who live all over Europe. That group over there are green dragons, summoned by Drake. The ones at the back of the room are red dragons.’’
‘‘But our sept is really underrepresented,’’ I said, worrying about the imbalance of at least fifty percent more blue dragons to the other three septs. ‘‘Is that going to affect anything? And how did they all get here so quickly?’’
‘‘The numbers of members mean nothing in this situation; only a wyvern and his or her mate can speak at a sárkány. The other members are here just to see history being made. They assembled quickly once word was received about your release.’’
