Firedrake - By Bianca D'Arc Page 0,28

a sort of army.

“But that’s crazy!” Elena’s whispered words reached Drake’s ear, and he squeezed her small hand in reassurance.

“Lucan is insane. He’s half skith now. It’s the reason he chained Riki at his side. He made her heal the constant injury to his body caused by the skith venom and blood, as the process of change continued. Without her healing power, he would have died at the very beginning of the transformation. We all assumed after she escaped he’d die a very slow and painful death, but he’s still alive. My scouts confirmed it only a day or two ago.” Drake ran one hand through his hair in frustration. “Either he’s found a new healer somewhere—poor soul—or he’s beyond the point in the change where he needs constant healing.”

Declan sat back and all eyes turned to him. “What was the second thing Lucan bartered with Salomar for?”

Trust his blood-father to remember the details. Drake would have smiled had the situation not been so grim. “Safe passage to the far north for search parties. Salomar didn’t know what Lucan was looking for, other than some magical artifact, but some of my sources claim it is something from wizard times.” Lilla reared up, as did the other dragons lying in the warm pit of sand some feet distant, but they said not a word, just listened intently while Drake continued. “One of my informants heard a name, but I don’t trust the man completely and I only have his word on it.”

“What was the name?” Arlis’s great golden head loomed near, over his knight’s shoulder. There was urgency in his tone.

Drake surveyed the dragons, realizing there was something more here than met the eye, but he’d have to wait for a better time to ferret out just what the dragons knew. For now, he had bigger fish to fry and two princes to keep safe.

“The man spoke of something called the Citadel. He said that’s what Lucan’s men were looking for in the far north, but he didn’t know whether or not they’d actually found anything.”

The dragons bristled but remained silent.

“Does this mean something to you, Arlis?” Declan asked of his dragon partner, suspicion in his gaze if Drake was reading his blood-father’s expression correctly.

“It could,” Arlis hedged, surprising Drake, “but we must seek the Dragon Council. I will call them together tomorrow at first light. We must confer on this development before deciding how to proceed.”

Drake knew both Arlis and his mate were senior members of the Dragon Council. Only dragons met on the Council—their knights were not allowed within the vast chamber. The only humans allowed within were those of royal blood, who were also half-dragon. He’d often wondered what went on behind those closed doors, but that was one of the few areas into which even the Spymaster of the Jinn Brotherhood was not privy.

“Leaving that aside for now—” Declan sent his dragon partner a hard look, “—I’m impressed that you felt this threat strong enough to come here in person, Drake. It speaks both of your character and the seriousness of our current situation.” Drake was shocked by Declan’s words, but the older knight moved on without pause. “We’ll need to augment the dragons’ plans. Jenet, after dinner I want you to give us the details of the schedule you and the younger dragons have worked out. But for now, let’s continue our meal.” Declan lifted his glass and waited for those around him to do the same. “To our son, returned to us at last.”

The toast was echoed by the rest of the family, and Drake found himself drinking with a sense of unreality that puzzled him. How had Declan taken control of the situation yet again? And why wasn’t Drake bristling as he always had when his blood-father took charge to bring them back to the matter at hand?

No, instead of anger, Drake felt something like relief that Declan had so easily steered the conversation away from such weighty matters. It was hard enough just being with his family after so many years. Discussing the dire threat to the Draconian royal family and the machinations of kings was better left to another day.

Drake watched as his family drank to his return, a sense of completeness enveloping him. He’d come full circle now. His blood-father was no longer the ogre he remembered, and Drake had to ask himself if Declan really ever was quite as bad as Drake recalled.

Drake raised his glass when the others had