Up in Smoke - Katie MacAlister [37]
Fiat smiled at him. “Naturally, we would not wish Aisling to risk herself or your child. Please be sure to tell her I’m thinking of her.”
If Drake interpreted that as a threat, he didn’t indicate it. Gabriel heaved a silent sigh, gave my fingers one last squeeze, and moved to the last remaining chair, but like Drake, he did not sit. “Since this sárkány has been called by Bastian to address the issues of your claim to the blue sept, I believe it will be in the best interests of all to wait for him to arrive, rather than begin without him.”
“He did not conduct a challenge in the proper manner,” Fiat said, an edge of anger to his voice despite his placid appearance. “It is not valid. I am wyvern of my sept, and you may trust me to deal with the situation he poses.”
“If I did not conduct it as weyr laws demand, it is because I had no need to,” a man called from the other end of the room. Everyone turned to look, many of the dragons who had not risen to greet Fiat now doing so as the man walked alone down the aisle. When he reached the end, two men joined him, clearly his personal guard.
I blinked a couple of times as the man strolled up to us, glancing between him and Fiat. I gathered this was the missing Bastian, uncle to Fiat. The two were almost identical, and for a few seconds I wondered if there was a doppelganger I’d never heard of. That thought was dismissed as I realized that what I was seeing was simply two men who bore a close resemblance to each other. Both had the same blond Adonis good looks, although Bastian’s hair was a few shades darker, the slightly curly locks brushing his shoulders. Where Fiat was dressed in an expensive-looking navy suit, Bastian wore a mandarin-collared sapphire shirt and black leather pants.
“Lies!” Fiat snarled, leaping to his feet as he slammed his fist down on the table. “You would face the weyr with your lies, but I will not allow it! I demand the weyr name this dragon ouroboros and remove him from our presence.”
“You had me kept prisoner rather than face me in a true challenge,” Bastian said in a voice filled with scorn. “I do not have to challenge you, because you have not legally held the position of wyvern. I was named wyvern by Pierozzo Blu, not you. It was me the sept accepted, until you spread your poison and convinced those in power that I was mad. And rather than have them see the truth in a real challenge, you shut me away and claimed my position. But I will remain silent and hidden no longer, Fiat. I was named wyvern long centuries ago, and I have come to claim my heritage.”
Drake gestured to one of his men. István took an empty chair that lined the wall and set it on Gabriel’s side of the table. “This weyr has been called to settle the question of who is wyvern. Until such time as a decision is made, you will both have a place at the table.”
Fiat spat out something rude but sat back down, his eyes glittering dangerously at the other blue dragon. Bastian hesitated for a moment but nodded and took his seat. Gabriel cocked an eyebrow at Tipene, who fetched another chair, which he placed a few inches from Gabriel’s other side. He waited until I was seated before taking his own place, Tipene and Maata taking up positions immediately behind us.
“We are now all present,” Gabriel said in his beautiful voice as he eyed the other wyverns. “As I have been asked to lead this sárkány, I believe we are ready to proceed.”
“Not yet,” Kostya said, snatching up a chair and setting it down next to Fiat with a good deal more force than was necessary. His men lined up behind him as he threw himself into the chair, spreading antagonistic looks among everyone. “Now all are present.”
“Hello!” Cyrene smacked him on the shoulder none too gently. “I’m standing!”
“You have appeared to have forgotten your mate,” Fiat said with a hint of real amusement