The (Not) Satisfied Dragon - Colette Rhodes Page 0,84

whoever Flight Mentrus nominates for the Scribe’s position,// Seff mused. //He probably told Jason who to nominate.//

//Why though?// Shira asked, sounding confused. //I thought they just recorded events.//

//Don’t underestimate the importance of that, gorgeous,// Seff replied gently. //Our understanding of events is shaped by what is written, and therefore who wrote it.//

Shira nodded slowly, her eyes still trained on every little move The Alchemist was making. Nerio was extending his influence, shaping the Council for years to come. In running for the Council seat, we’d stumbled onto something bigger than ourselves.

“You guys can’t say anything about this,” I warned my uncles and sisters, looking up at their worried faces. “This kind of knowledge could be dangerous.”

“You’re going to find out who did it though, right?” Mara asked, eyes full of youthful optimism. “And then they’ll be punished.”

“That’s the plan,” Ezra reassured her, though his expression was grim.

The Alchemist elbowed Seff out of the way to stand next to the Scribe’s head.

“Alright, you. Handsome,” The Alchemist began. We all looked between us. Hiram? He was the most traditionally handsome of all of us.

“She means you, Levi,” Shira said, sounding exasperated.

“Mmm, the green one,” The Alchemist agreed with a predatory look. Well, that was creepy.

“Yes?” I asked awkwardly, shooting Hiram a dirty look as he grinned gleefully at me, undoubtedly planning all the ways he could bring this up for the next fifty years.

“Hold his head back, mouth open. I’m going to drip feed him this solution,” she instructed. I did as she asked, watching in fascination as she tipped small spoonfuls into his open mouth. For a while, it didn’t seem like anything was happening, but steadily his breathing improved.

“His fingers moved,” Mara whisper yelled.

“Who are you?” the Scribe groaned, opening one eye and squinting at my sisters and uncles.

“Who cares about them? I’m the one saving your life,” The Alchemist muttered.

The Scribe opened his other eye and turned his head to stare at her, blinking slowly. “You’re The Alchemist. I know you.”

“He’s a smart one. I like him,” The Alchemist said with a self-satisfied grin, shoving the spoon into his mouth. “You were poisoned. Brulic. This ought to fix you up, though you’ll be on bedrest for a week at least while your body recovers.”

“Poisoned?” the Scribe spluttered, choking slightly on the liquid.

“Do you have any enemies?” Ezra asked casually, standing at the foot of the bed. Shira shot him a confused look, but he shook his head slightly. We couldn’t risk accusing Nerio without definitive proof.

“Hardly,” the Scribe scoffed. “I’m single, flightless. Unless the Council summons me for duty, I’m invisible.”

“That’s so sad,” Mara whispered to Elora, loud enough for the entire room to hear.

“Well, it seems you’re not invisible to everyone,” Ezra said grimly. “Did you have any visitors before you felt ill?”

“I don’t remember,” the Scribe admitted warily. “My mind feels... foggy.”

“That will improve as the brulic leaves your system,” The Alchemist supplied, shoving another spoonful of liquid into his mouth.

“Then we’ll do some investigating of our own while you recover,” Ezra said decisively.

“What’s your price? I have no coin.” The Scribe looked ashamed of that fact, which was fucking outrageous. The Council were the ones who didn’t pay him. They were the ones who should feel ashamed.

“A favor,” Ezra replied confidently. “Due to an unfortunate clerical error, my mate Shira here was declared dead twelve years ago. I’d like the record destroyed.”

“Xander’s too,” Shira shot back instantly.

“Right. And her brother, Xander,” Ezra added less enthusiastically.

“That’s all you want?” the Scribe asked suspiciously.

“That’s everything,” Shira assured him with a beaming smile.

“Alright, Shira of Flight Galon,” the Scribe sighed, leaning back against the pillows and closing his eyes. “Consider yourself and your brother legally alive.’’

Chapter 18

“We're going to have to pay the fae,” Ezra sighed. Our flight had moved into the main records room to let the Scribe rest, leaving him with Levi’s family and The Alchemist who was packing up her ingredients. “We made a deal.”

I glanced at Hiram from under my eyelashes, trying to hide the guilt I felt as I observed him. He was being remarkably relaxed about the fact that I’d agreed to give away the prize jewel he’d sourced without even talking to him about it first, but I could tell it was bothering him.

I'd never really given it much thought before, but I was beginning to wonder if I was too impulsive. This wasn't the first time I'd jumped headfirst into a decision and wondered afterwards if it had been the right