Me and My Shadow - Katie MacAlister [127]
“But . . . surely there is no connection?”
“I have never done a better day’s work, and I have guided well over a hundred new souls into this world.” Kaawa entered the room, stretched, and looked around her with pleasure. “I am glad to see you returned from your visit to the Akasha, wintiki. Your journey was successful?”
“Yes, it was. I’m officially free from Magoth.” I stood up to greet Kaawa, moving slightly away from Tully to do so. At the sound of another voice, Tully stopped sobbing into her hands, fumbling in her pocket for a tissue to wipe her eyes.
Kaawa started toward us, caught sight of the woman on the chair, and faltered, her face suddenly frozen with shock. She lifted a hand and pointed at Tully, her mouth moving, but no sound coming out.
“What’s wrong?” I asked as Gabriel went forward to her side.
“Mother? Are you unwell?”
“She,” Kaawa said, still staring in absolute astonishment at Tully. Her finger wavered a little as she pointed. “It’s her.”
“The mage apprentice?” I asked, glancing at Tully. She looked up in complete befuddlement at Gabriel’s mother, clearly not understanding why the other woman was so stunned to see her.
“No.” Kaawa shook her head, then said the last thing in the world I expected her to say. “That is no apprentice. That is no mage.”
Gabriel and I exchanged confused glances before looking back at his mother.
She stared at Tully with an intensity that raised the hairs on the backs of my arms.
Savian propped himself up on the couch, watching with interest as Tully rose from the chair, one hand at her throat. “I’m sorry. I don’t . . . do I know you?”
“That is a not a mage. That is a black dragon,” Kaawa announced, her voice ringing pure and clear in the silence of the room. “That is a wyvern’s mate.”
Goose bumps crawled up my spine as I looked at Tully.
“That is his mate. That is Ysolde de Bouchier. She is alive. Baltic’s mate is alive.”
Read on for a peek at
Love in the Time of Dragons
A Novel of the Light Dragons
by Katie MacAlister
Coming from Signet in May 2010
I stood in the kitchen doorway and watched as a group of four men rode into the bailey, all armed for battle.
“Ysolde! What are you doing here? Why aren’t you up in the solar tending to Lady Susan? Mother was looking for you!” Margaret, my older sister, emerged from the depths of the kitchen to scold me.
“Did they get her out of the privy, then?” I asked with all innocence. Or what I hoped passed for it.
“Aye.” Her eyes narrowed on me. “It was odd, the door being stuck shut that way. Almost as if someone had done something to it.”
I made my eyes as round as they would go, and threw in a few blinks for good measure. “Poor, poor Lady Susan. Trapped in the privy with her bowels running amok. Think you she’s been cursed?”
“Aye, and I know by what. Or, rather, whom.” She was clearly about to shift into a lecture when movement in the bailey caught her eye. She glanced outside the doorway and pulled me backwards, into the dimness of the kitchen. “You know better than to stand about when Father has visitors.”
“Who are they?” I asked, looking around her as she peered out at them.
“An important mage,” she answered, holding a plucked goose to her chest as she watched the men. “That must be him, in the black.”
All of the men were armed, their swords and mail glinting brightly in the sun, but only one did not wear a helm. He dismounted, lifting his hand in greeting as my father hurried down the steps of the keep.
“He doesn’t look like any mage I’ve ever seen,” I told her, taking in the man’s easy movements under what must be at least fifty pounds of armor. “He looks more like a warlord. Look, he’s got braids in his hair, just like that Scot who came to see Father a few years ago. What do you think he wants?”
“Who knows? Father is renowned for his powers; no doubt this mage wants to consult him on arcane matters.”
“Hrmph. Arcane matters,” I said, aware I sounded grumpy.
Her mouth quirked on one side. “I thought you weren’t going to