Me and My Shadow - Katie MacAlister [21]
“Well, you have bigger things to worry about than that,” Cyrene said with blithe indifference to the idea of a demon lord being free to run amok among the mortals. “Kostya needs our help.”
My gaze moved from her to the man in question. Although Kostya was Drake’s older brother, a weird quirk of genetics had left the two men wyverns of different septs . . . or it would have, if Kostya was recognized by the weyr as such. “What does he need help with now? I thought he had the requisite number of black dragons to formally apply for recognition? Isn’t that what the meeting is all about?”
“It is, but not everyone supports sweet, adorable Kostya.” Her eyes narrowed into little sapphire slits as she looked at Gabriel.
“Sweet, adorable Kostya has tried to kill Gabriel more than once and, until the last month, has been hell-bent on destroying the silver dragons by forcing them to join his sept, so you’ll have to forgive us if we’re a bit jaded,” I pointed out.
Cyrene waved away the survival of the silver dragons as trivial. “Oh, that’s all in the past. He’s been the model of dragonhood since you came back from Abaddon.”
“That, I’m afraid, has less to do with the fact that he’s seen reason, and more because he realized he is going to need friends should Baltic take it into his head to reclaim his sept.”
“That is not Baltic,” Kostya said loudly, interrupting his mother. I had forgotten for a moment how good dragons’ hearing was.
“Hello, Kostya,” I said politely, summoning up a brief smile.
To my surprise, he bowed. The dragons, I’d found, habitually used what I thought of as old-world manners, including being able to make bows that, on them, escaped looking silly and just looked elegant and courtly. Even Gabriel, whose manners were more open and casual than the other wyverns’, could summon up a really world-class bow when he felt the need. I wondered for a moment if it was something genetic in dragons. “I beg your pardon. I am remiss in greeting you in my haste to speak with my mother. You look well, May.”
I wanted to goggle at his change in attitude.
“Thank you,” I said, a little stunned. By this point, I expected Kostya to be screaming for vengeance, or ranting about the past as he was wont to do.
“I trust the shard is not giving you any grief?” he inquired politely.
My eyes widened as I glanced toward Gabriel. He grinned at me and winked.
“Er . . . not unduly so, no. Thank you for asking.” I was prompted by the knowledge that formalities must be preserved even in informal situations to add, “You are well?”
“I am,” he said, inclining his head. “Cyrene and I took a little trip to my homeland. It is most pleasant at this time of year.”
“I’m sorry,” I said, finding the whole conversation too bizarre to let pass without comment. “Are you chitchat-ting with me?”
“Yes, he is. Isn’t he doing it wonderfully?” Cyrene asked, blowing him a kiss.
Gabriel laughed and moved over to stand next to me, his arm loosely around my waist. “It is quite amazing, is it not?”
Kostya smiled at Cyrene, and for a second, I was aware on a primal level of the charm that had attracted her to him. But although my acquaintance with Kostya had not been of a lengthy nature, it had been violent enough to leave me wary of such a benign appearance, even despite the dragon shard’s interest.
“Incredibly so,” I said, knowing my twin would completely miss the sarcasm in my voice.
Jim didn’t. The demon choked. I eyed it, about to forbid it to speak if it looked like it was going to say anything inappropriate. Catalina leaned toward her el dest son, whispering furiously as she gestured an elegant hand toward me. He looked at her for a minute before turning an astonished gaze on me.
“I am not mentally deficient,” I announced, just in case he believed his mother.
Jim snorted again and opened its mouth to speak.
I pulled out my dagger