Up in Smoke - Katie MacAlister [72]
Gabriel’s lips thinned. His knees burst into flame.
“Sorry,” I said, and focused hard on damping down the fire. It fizzled out to nothing.
“May is feeling the effects of the dragon shard,” he said as an explanation. “Hence the mating marks. As you can see, she is still learning to control the fire.”
“Yes, yes, I understand that—it was such with Ysolde, when she became the Avignon Phylactery—but that is not what I mean, and you know it. Tell me about this dragon who could walk in the Dreaming.”
Gabriel was silent for a moment. “I believe it is as you think. I do not understand how he could survive, and yet the proof is before us.”
“Bah,” she said, making a dismissive gesture as she poured herself a cup of thick black coffee and took one of the canvas chairs. “Resurrection is not difficult. It can be done. But for a dragon to walk in the Dreaming, to be able to interact in there . . .” She shook her head. “That is truly a feat I had not thought possible. You are certain he started to take the phylactery from you, wintiki?”
I nodded.
“Then Baltic must have been resurrected by someone very special indeed,” she said thoughtfully, her gaze on the fire.
“But that’s unlikely, isn’t it?” I asked.
Gabriel’s nod was slow in coming. “The signs point to it, and yet it seems to me impossible.”
“I agree it fits with everything that’s happened lately,” I said, pausing to pick my way through my conflicting thoughts. “Or does it? I could swear that the man who was in the shadow world with me was genuinely surprised to see the phylactery, and he tried to take it from me. If you suppose it was Baltic back from the dead, as I assume you must from everything that’s happened, why would he have given Kostya the phylactery if he wanted it for himself?”
“I don’t know,” Gabriel admitted. “It doesn’t seem to make sense, and yet, I have felt for the last few decades that something was not right in the weyr. There was a disturbance, a faint ripple of something that should not have been there.”
“He gets that from me,” Kaawa told me with obvious pride. “His good looks come from his father—have you met him? Horrible personality, but such a good lover, it made you forget about the former for a while. But it gives me great pleasure to know that Gabriel’s finer points come from me.”
“I can see that they do,” I agreed politely.
“You don’t yet, but you will,” she said complacently before returning to the subject at hand. “I know that you wish to consult me about May becoming the phylactery—what are you going to call yourself, child?”
I was a bit surprised. “What am I going to call myself?”
“Yes. All of the phylactery are named. That is to identify the shards within. You must bear an official name since you are now the vessel.”
“I don’t know,” I said, looking in openmouthed surprise at Gabriel. “I have to change my name?”
“Not change your name, but it is tradition to name each phylactery.” He thought for a moment. “You could use your surname, unless you think your twin would object.”
“I don’t see why she would. So now I’m May Northcott, doppelganger, wyvern’s mate, consort to Magoth, and also the Northcott Phylactery?” I blew out a breath. “Why am I suddenly feeling overwhelmed?”
Gabriel’s dimples flashed. “The wyvern’s mate is the most important part, and you handle that extremely well.”
The look in his eyes brought the fire within me to roaring life, sudden pinpricks of pain causing me to leap to my feet as I pulled my hands out from where I had them tucked under my thighs to keep the flames from sprouting.
My fingers were back to being silver scaled, and scarlet tipped.
“Fascinating, simply fascinating,” Kaawa said, taking one of my hands to examine it closely. “I’ve read of Ysolde de Bouchier, of course. She detailed her experiences in becoming the Avignon Phylactery quite well, but it’s not the same thing as seeing it in person. My dear, I hate to be a nagging mother, but would you put out the fire in my tent? It’s the only one I have, and I don’t have plans to go back to town for another