“What’s the nearest large town?”

“Boden. Why?”

“Can you be in—One moment.” A couple of muffled voices drifted through the phone. I held up my hand when Kostya opened his mouth to ask yet another question. Drake returned to the phone. “Can you be in Umeå in six hours?”

“Yes. It’s about an hour’s drive.”

“Good. We will meet you at the airport. Bring Kostya and Jim.”

He hung up the phone before I could respond. I tucked my phone away, giving Kostya a long look. “Wow. I can really tell he’s your brother.”

Kostya narrowed his eyes. “Why do you say that?”

“If I told you, you’d just deny it. Oh, thank you, Dr. Ek. I’m sure Kostya will be grateful to have that shoulder bandaged.”

Kostya wasn’t anything of the sort, but he did take his shirt off again (which allowed me some quality ogling time) and suffered Dr. Ek strapping his injured arm to his chest. The slash marks had long since healed, but evidently it took a bit longer for bones to fix themselves, because by the time we got Kostya’s shirt back on him, and I’d thanked Dr. Ek again for his assistance, there were lines of pain around Kostya’s mouth.

“Right, everyone into the car. Oh, sorry, Jim. You can talk now.”

The demon, whom Kostya had recommended I order to silence while at the doctor’s office, let out his breath as if he’d been holding it the entire time. “Fires of Abaddon, Eefs! I don’t know what this other demon lord I’m supposed to have was like, but I can do with less of the ordering around and more of the providing of foodstuffs. Speaking of which—”

“Yes, yes, I’ll feed you.”

“I am desirous of food as well, but I wish to know what my brother said to you.”

At first I thought Kostya was standing by the car waiting for me to give him the keys, but then he opened the driver’s door for me. It was a strangely gallant gesture for a man who liked to scowl and protest as much as he did. “There’s not a lot to tell, but first: is your broken bone healing up the way you think it will?” I asked when he got in the passenger side. Jim flopped onto the backseat, moaning to himself about starving to death and demon lords who took the word cruel to new heights.

Kostya tried moving his shoulder. He didn’t flinch, but I got the feeling that it still hurt. “It’s taking longer than I thought it would, but it appears to be better. What exactly did Drake say?”

“Hmm. You’re sure you can self-heal? Oh, that’s stupid. I watched two slash marks on your arm close up and disappear. Maybe it’s because you’ve been through so much in the past twenty-four hours?” I started the car and headed to a restaurant that was about twenty minutes away. “He said to meet him in Umeå at four this afternoon. It’s about an hour’s drive, so we have time to get some food before I go back home and—”

“No.”

I glanced at him from the corner of my eye. “—talk to the police and fire officials, and whoever else showed up—”

“You will not go back to your home.”

“—when they noticed the fire. I assume there’s a whole lot of people who wondered what happened, and who will want to talk to us—”

“We will go to this Umeå. And after that, Paris.”

I ground off a few layers of teeth, making a concerted effort not to reach out and punch Kostya in the collarbone. “So, new rule: you stop interrupting me, and I don’t pull the car over and shove you out of it.”

The look he turned on me was downright comical. “You would push me from your car? I have been wounded saving you!”

“I also saved you,” I pointed out, holding up my hand so he could see the ring. “Me and Wishy the Magic Ring. Jim, stop your bellyaching and take a nap until we get to the restaurant.”

Kostya fumed silently to himself for a moment. “I did not intend to offend you by interrupting, but we cannot return to your home.”

“Why? Not that there’s anything left of it by now but rubble, but there may be things that weren’t destroyed.”

“You would not be safe there. The red dragons obviously know you are with me, or they would not have attacked. We will speak with Drake and go to his house in Paris. There you will be safe, and I will be able to ensure the ring is used to repair that which was destroyed.”

“Do you always talk like you’re straight out of a Tolkien book?” I asked in what I thought was a conversational tone of voice. “No, never mind, don’t answer that. It doesn’t matter. Look, I appreciate that you threw yourself in front of me when those red dragons attacked—it was, hands down, the most heroic thing I’ve ever witnessed—but I’m not a part of whatever it is that you’re involved with, so there’s no reason for those red dudes to come after me. Do all dragons have colors assigned to them?”

“Generally, yes. There is one sept that does not, but the wyvern of that is… special.” Kostya rubbed his chin, rasping his thumb down his stubble while musing to himself. “The red dragons didn’t know about you, that is true.”

“And the ones who attacked us aren’t going to be doing any talking,” I pointed out, my brain shying away from the memory of the bodies of the red dragons who had attacked us. Part of me wanted to feel appalled by the fact that I had killed the dragons—or rather, the ring had via me—but they were so clearly intent on killing us that I couldn’t summon up more than a sense of regret that we’d been pushed into that metaphorical corner.

“No, but if they traced me to your house, then they know about you. And thus you are at risk.”

“But I’m not a dragon. Why would dragons want me dead if I’m not one of you?”

“This is not a simple war between septs—the curse has driven the septs apart, yes, but the red dragons are now different. They are part demon. They will not care if you are a dragon or not; they will simply want you destroyed because you hold the ring. You must come to Paris. There you will be safe.”

I was touched that he was so concerned, a warm glow of happiness spreading out from my belly. “What a contrary man you are. Going by appearances, your favorite activity is scowling and being grumpy, but at the same time, you risked your own life to save me.”