Drake pulled himself together, shot me one last sultry look, and began scanning the shelves for items.

“Maybe you can answer something for me,” I said as I opened a velvet box, admiring the Victorian sapphire necklace and earrings within it. “You told me a while ago that dragons can’t summon demons.”

“We can’t,” Kostya answered, running his hands through the gold coins. His voice was rich and thick with pleasure.

I mentally rolled my eyes at the dragons and moved on to another jewelry box. This one contained old Greek-looking gold and silver jewelry. Museum-quality stuff—I wondered how many of the world’s treasures were being held by dragons.

“Then how did Fiat come to have all sorts of dark power–based wards on his lair door? And that bane—that was broken by the demons, and they couldn’t have done that unless a demon had been used to make it in the first place.”

“Fiat obviously engaged the services of someone who could call demons,” Drake answered, his voice muffled as he poked around the back of the vault.

“So, why can’t you call demons?” High on one of the metal shelves, a small unadorned wooden box sat. I squinted at it. A ward was barely visible on it. I used the small ladder to climb to the top and pull down the box.

“You need to be a part of the Otherworld in order to summon its members. Dragons are bound by the laws of the weyr, not the Otherworld. We are outside of its sphere of influence. However, because of the long-standing treaty the weyr continues to honor, interaction between dragons and non-dragons is tolerated. That courtesy does not, however, extend to the summoning of its denizens.”

“Huh. I didn’t know you were not part of the Otherworld.” I opened the box and pulled aside a bit of blue silk. Inside lay a rough lump of gold, fashioned into a shape that looked vaguely dragonish. A thought struck me. “But…I am a part of the Otherworld.”

“Yes, you are.”

I climbed down the ladder and moved around the tall metal stand that stood in the center of the vault and frowned at Drake as he squatted next to Kostya, the two of them removing the side of a glass case that held what looked like illuminated medieval manuscripts. “Doesn’t that mean we have a conflict of interest?”

Drake looked up. “How so?”

“Well, you’re in the weyr, governed by its laws. I’m in the Otherworld, bound to uphold it.”

“You’re my mate. You are a member of the weyr as well. That takes precedence to your loyalty to the Otherworld. There is no conflict.”

I wasn’t sure I bought that, but I wasn’t willing to argue the point in front of Kostya. “What did you guys find? Anything übervaluable?”

Drake put the manuscript back in its glass case. “Everything in here is valuable.”

“But nothing stands out as something he’d move heaven and earth to get back?” I asked.

“Nothing leaps out at me, no. Kostya?”

He shook his head, dusting off his knees as he got to his feet. “There is nothing outstanding. The gold is of a very nice quality, though.”

“Why don’t you just take some of that?” Jim suggested, nosing around the box of gold coins. “If someone took my big ole herkin’ box of gold, I’d want it back. And I’m not even a dragon with a gold fixation.”

Drake pinched his lower lip as he looked around. “I would not tolerate anyone taking any treasure from me, but Fiat might not feel it was a sufficiently valuable hostage. I do not see anything that I would value above all others, and yet…” His voice trailed off as he looked around the vault. “And yet I feel as if something is here. Something…important. István? Pál?”

The two other dragons stopped rummaging and stood with Drake for a moment, the three of them making a slow circuit of the room.

“Yes,” István said, nodding. “I feel it, too. Something very old.”

“Something gold,” Pál said, lifting his chin to scent the air. I sniffed as well. I didn’t smell or sense anything different.

“Kostya, do you feel it?”

Kostya paused for a moment, then shook his head. “You green dragons have a better sense of smell than I do.”

“What exactly does it smell like?” I asked, wondering if my super–Guardian vision could pick up something that was identifiable only by its scent.

Drake slowly paced the aisle of the vault, his eyes narrowing on me. “Like…you.”

“Me?”

His eyes focused on the box in my hand. “What are you holding?”

“This?” I held up the battered figurine. “I think it’s a kid’s dragon toy. An old kid’s dragon toy. The details aren’t very good.”

Drake sucked in his breath, his eyes as brilliant as green crystals. “Aisling, do not drop it.”

I looked at the blobby dragon in my hand, trying to see what it was he was getting so worked up about. “Is it valuable?”

The other three dragons descended on me the same time as Drake, all four of them staring with wonder at the thing.

“It is the Lindorm Phylactery.” He held out his hand for it, cradling it with both hands when I set the blob on his palm.

“’K. And that is…?”

“It is a relic of the time before the weyr. It was carried by the first dragon. It has immense importance to dragonkin.”

The other men jostled Drake until he reluctantly passed it around.

“Gotcha. So it’s the something really important that you felt? Then we take it?”

“I will take it,” Kostya said, his hand closing around the blob of gold. “It belongs to the black dragons.”

“It belongs to no one,” Drake said, rounding on his brother.

“It was held by Baltic before he fell.”

“Before you killed him, you mean?” I asked sweetly.

I’m lucky I didn’t spontaneously combust. I’m sure that was the intent of the look Kostya fired at me.

“It belonged to him. It passes to me now.”

“Kostya—” Drake started to say, and I knew we had a situation on our hands.

“Jim?”

“On it.” Before Kostya could move, I had the binding ward on him, and Jim had retrieved the phylactery, dropping it at Drake’s feet.