for just this purpose.
Sian closed his eyes to sense Uthyr’s location. . . . Got you, dragon. Though Uthyr usually hunted far afield, he’d been sticking close to the castle, was just behind the nearest mountain.
If Sian traced that close to home, he’d be foolish not to check on his prisoner at the same time. Telling himself he was not rushing back to his mate, Sian appeared at Uthyr’s location.
The dragon was nowhere to be seen.
Sian detected his ally’s invisible presence. Uthyr was crouched behind a boulder to pounce on his unsuspecting prey—a large reptile the size of a hellhound.
Uthyr said, —Do not spook my meal, demon, or you’ll be my meal.—
Clenching his jaw, Sian waited.
The dragon’s camouflaged tail swished side to side. Like a shot, he vaulted forward, snaring his quarry between his forepaws.
Shaking off his invisibility, Uthyr snapped the creature’s neck, then tossed the carcass above his head. He seared it with fire until it landed, roasted, in his mouth.
GULP. —Ahh. Medium well.— He stifled a belch with his bloody forepaw.
“I could have provided you a feast of those creatures.”
—Hunting keeps a dragon shifter young.— Uthyr turned back toward the castle along a canyon trail.
Sian fell in beside him. “I want your counsel about my prisoner.”
—I’m surprised to see you so soon. Not quite the two-month absence you predicted.— The dragon smirked. —I gave you a week. Seems we both overestimated your willpower.—
That smirk raised Sian’s hackles. So much for an ally’s wise counsel. “I returned because I might place protective magics over her. You’ll have to excuse my hypervigilance since this female has already died once!”
Uthyr kicked a boulder along as they walked. —Yet you somehow survived the loss.—
What was the dragon getting at? “Luckily I hadn’t claimed her.” Sian had never heard of a demon who wouldn’t greet death if his claimed mate perished. His own sire had. Somewhere in the Elserealms, Devel had led the front in an impossible battle—an immortal’s version of suicide.
Massive neck stretching, Uthyr craned his head toward Sian, making him feel like a laboratory animal under inspection. —Plus your hatred numbed what you felt for her and kept you from comprehending the magnitude of what you’d lost.—
Not helping Sian’s anxiety.
—To sever that lifeline of hate after so long would be like cutting off a limb.—
Or horns! “Why sever it when I’ve no doubt she’ll give me new reasons to hate her?”
—Such as her trap?—
“You know about that?” Was there anything his ally didn’t know about?
—I might have been observing the terrace that night.—
Sian bared his fangs. “Worthless dragonic spy!”
—I wanted to make sure you didn’t do anything drastic when you were fresh from a legion gathering. Picture how crazed you must’ve looked to her. She protected herself. Quite resourcefully, I might add.—
“Know that she will not seize the upper hand again,” he said with all confidence, even as he felt a whisper of disappointment over that fact.
Uthyr’s lips drew back from rows of pointed teeth, his version of a smile. —Imagine my surprise to see you plummeting from your own tower while leashed to a . . . what’s the modern phrase? Ah, yes, a bag of dicks.— He laughed at his own joke, emitting puffs of smoke.
Sian grated, “You’ve developed quite a mastery of modern phrasings.”
—I learned much from Rune’s memories.—
All of the M?ri?r were supposed to have slept during their five centuries of travel from the Elserealms to this side of the universe—except for Rune, who’d worked as their spy in Gaia.
Whenever a M?ri?r woke, he or she would delve into Rune’s mind to learn what history had passed and to pick up new words and speech patterns.
Sian hadn’t slept during the journey. Instead he’d lain in a kind of twilight, tormenting himself, wondering if this Accession would return his mate to him. . . .
Golden eyes alight, Uthyr said, —Plus the Vrekener queen, our new Pandemonian neighbor, has glorious television recordings! I secretly watch through her window.—
“That trespassing territory thief?” Melanthe had taken advantage of Sian, and he would punish her for it, somehow, someway. Speaking of territory . . . “Do you know where the Magic Kingdom is? My prisoner said it lies between Rivendell and Narnia.”
—These places sound familiar. I’ll think on it.— When Sian conjured a rag and began to clean his ax, the dragon said, —Searching for the hellfire again?—
Why had Sian confided his mother’s words to Uthyr?
Stopping along the path, the dragon placed a paw in front of Sian. —You need to accept