Firedrake - By Bianca D'Arc Page 0,74

settled into the song. His voice rang pure and true as he sang of the beauty who’d claimed his love, though it broke his heart to leave her.

Drake was pressed to play almost every song he’d ever written and he switched instruments a few times as well. The minstrels seemed to want to test his limits, pushing to see how good he was with their instrument each time he switched to something new. A friendly competition Drake had experienced many times among the Jinn minstrels he’d learned from soon evolved and he felt more and more at home among these fair-haired beings.

“He has the voice of an angel,” Lilith remarked, still seated at the head table while the band took a quick break. “Didn’t I tell you, beloved?” Mace noted the way she squeezed Gerrow’s hand as a teasing light entered her eyes.

“You did indeed, my dear. Tell me, where comes a human bard by such talent? He’s better even than our best. Do you see the way they all look at him?”

“He learned from the Jinn, mostly, though they say he was already quite skilled when he was taken in by the Black Dragon Clan as a teen.” Krysta turned questioning eyes to Mace. “Did he play much when he was growing up?”

Mace cleared his throat, thinking back to those early years. “He was always musical. His mother gave him his first lute and taught him to play it. Sir Ren helped too, though Sir Declan, his blood-father, never had much patience for music.” Mace remembered the way Declan would scold his son for wasting time playing tunes. The older knight had been proved wrong and seemed to handle it well, but the fact remained, if not for the undue pressure he’d placed on his son, Drake would probably never have left home at such a young age.

“Who is his mother?” Gerrow’s eyes narrowed.

“The lady Elena.”

“And is she beautiful, by human standards?”

“Quite.” Mace cocked his head, wondering where the fair warrior was leading him. “She is fair of face and form and has a lovely singing voice.”

“I wonder…” Gerrow looked at Gryffid and as Mace turned, he realized the wizard was deep in thought. “He is descended of wizards, but what of our race? There is much about him that seems familiar.”

“Alas, my friend, you stumble upon something I had only begun to suspect.” Gryffid nodded. “I followed the bloodline of Draco to Darius, then Declan, and thence to Drake, but I wonder exactly where the fair Elena comes from? It could be she has fey blood in her somewhere along the line. That would explain much.”

Mace felt his stomach sink. Would they never stop finding things to make Drake remarkable? How could a mere mortal ever hope to stand beside a being who proved more magical with every passing moment?

Hiding his worry behind his usual stony façade, Mace pretended to enjoy the evening. In truth, he did like Drake’s music very much. You’d have to be a stone statue not to enjoy Drake’s skill with an audience and seemingly any instrument he was handed. It was pleasant to watch, and when Krysta grabbed Mace’s hand and dragged him into the dancing, he let go of his worries altogether, marveling at her vivacious zest for life and sunny laughter. He could learn a thing or two from her about how to live in the moment.

What had started as dinner turned into a party, and though Drake was kept busy with the minstrels, Mace and Krysta enjoyed themselves as well. They danced a few times and listened with the others when Drake sang some of his more poignant ballads. Mace learned a great deal about his new fighting partner in those hours and he learned a lot about himself as well.

Try as he might to be angry or jealous of the boy he’d grown up competing with, those days of competition were long gone. Drake was an entity unto himself, as was Mace. They’d each followed their own paths in life and somehow wound up walking beside each other, with Krysta between them. Mace thanked the Mother of All for that miracle as Krysta teased him and made him laugh. She was a joy. She was his world—as much as Nellin, and now Jenet and Drake. Together they would find a way to deal with the puzzle Drake’s background represented.

In those hours of fey celebration, Mace came to terms with his new family and the future that might await them.

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