“I’m not likely to do anything stupid. Not now when I’m poised on the brink of impending non-proscription. I would just like one last chance to be a Guardian before I have to give it up forever.” I ran after him as he bolted down the hallway. I was almost to the staircase when one of the doors opened.

“Aisling? I heard shouting. Is everything all right?”

I stopped at the sight of a sleep-rumpled Paula, consumed by guilt at the look of concern on her face. When we had returned from our little chat with Bael, she was nearly hysterical from the experience, Uncle Damian at his wit’s end to try to explain things to her. I’d decided right then and there that she was not going to be the sort of person who could live with the idea of the Otherworld, and had spent half an hour mind-pushing both her and David, ultimately convincing them that I’d taken ill at the wedding and had returned home without event.

And now here she was worried that I was still sick. “I’m fine, Paula. It’s…it’s Jim, my dog. It ate something bad, I think, and we’re taking it to an emergency vet hospital. Go back to sleep! We’ll call if we’re going to be late returning.”

Paula grabbed my arm in an iron grip before I could make my escape. “My dear, I absolutely insist that you let Drake take your dog to the vet. You are too ill to go gallivanting around at four in the morning.”

“I’m fine now, I’m just—”

“I insist! David? David, wake up and talk some sense into your girl—”

Oh, lord. That’s all I needed. I hated to give Paula another mind-push so soon after the last one, but Drake was already at the front door. I fired up my patented Guardian Mind Meld and beamed its rays straight at her. “It’s all right, Paula. I’m fine. This is nothing to be concerned about. Go back to bed and go to sleep.”

She blinked a couple of times before nodding. “I think I’ll go back to bed if you don’t mind.”

“Not at all. I’ll see you later.” I grabbed the banister and hurried down the stairs even as she asked the now-empty hallway, “What am I doing out of bed?”

Suzanne was at the front door, holding it open so I could race straight outside and into the car that was waiting. “You heard?” I asked her as I grabbed my purse.

“Yes. Take care.”

“Will do. Where did Jim go?” I asked Drake as I settled down next to him. István hit the accelerator, and we zoomed off into the London night. I averted my eyes from the front window, feeling it was probably going to be better if I didn’t watch how recklessly he drove.

“It was in the basement watching DVDs of old British TV shows.”

“Not The Avengers again? Jim, I summon thee!”

Drake’s phone jingled from his jacket pocket. He answered it in Hungarian, his jaw tightening as he listened.

Jim appeared on the seat next to me, wedged between me and the side. “Jeez, Ash! Give a guy a little room! You’re squashing my magnificent self flat!”

“Keep it down, Drake’s on the phone. Get on the floor if you want room,” I answered, skewing around in my seat as far as the seat belt would allow. “Oh, for god’s sake—you’re slobbering like crazy! You and your Mrs. Peel fetish. You’re not even the same species!”

“It’s not a fetish. I just admire her in a cat suit. Mmrowr!”

“Yeah, right. I notice you don’t watch it when you’re visiting Cecile, you two-timing rat. Wipe your flews once we get out of the car.”

“Boy, you finally get a little, and you’re just as cranky as ever,” it answered. “Where are we going, or do I want to know?”

I watched Drake. He had spoken few words, but his expression was growing blacker and blacker by the moment as he listened. I touched his arm to get his attention and mouthed, “Kostya?”

He nodded.

“What’s Kostya done now?” Jim asked in a whisper.

“Taken the phylactery and gone off to absorb the silver dragons.”

Drake erupted into a volley of angry Hungarian.

Jim made a wry face. “I had a feeling this would happen. Kostya was kicking furniture around earlier, muttering about everyone conspiring against him, and that the dragon thingie you found was a sign the time was right for him to take action, yadda yadda yadda.”

“Why didn’t you tell me that?” I asked, pinching its neck.

“Ow! Demon abuse!”

“Jim!” I said through my teeth.

It affected a hurt expression. “I couldn’t tell you, not unless you wanted me to interrupt your journey to boinksville. Drake booted me out of the bathroom and told me to go sleep somewhere else. The only reason I even saw Kostya is because I had to go into the study to get The Avengers DVDs.”

“Meh.”

Drake slammed closed his phone on a curt word, glaring out into the flashing lights of the city as they zoomed by us.

“I take it that Kostya is being unreasonable?”

“Yes.” He took my hand, his fingers twining through mine. I cherished the gesture, knowing full well he wasn’t happy about having me along. “He insists that the phylactery is a sign that the time is nigh for him to return to the weyr. Kincsem, I fear for my brother’s sanity. It has not been easy for him to remain hidden for the last few centuries. But now…”

I held his hand in both of mine and leaned into him, offering what comfort I could. “Kostya is so prickly about things, I haven’t had a chance to ask him about himself. Were you guys close growing up?”

“Close?” Drake looked somewhat pensive. “Not in the sense I believe you mean. I was sent to live with my grandmother when I was young. My mother objected—you know what she is like—but my grandmother was a formidable woman herself. Kostya stayed with the black dragons, and for a while, Mother stayed with him. He was born a wyvern just as I was. Baltic trained him from the very beginning to take his place when his time was over. It nearly destroyed Kostya when he realized the truth about Baltic, and that the only way to save the sept was to eliminate the wyvern…but he was too late. By the time we found Baltic, the damage had been done, and most of the sept had been destroyed.”

“You were there with him when he…er…did the cleaving?”

“Yes.” Drake’s gaze shifted to me for a moment. I expected it to be stark with emotion, but it was just the opposite—a curiously flat look that boded ill for everyone. “My distant cousin Fodor was still wyvern of the green dragons when Baltic tried to rally the septs in a move that would eliminate the silver dragons, but there was little help to be found. Chuan Ren was still recovering from the Endless War she’d brought about against Baltic. The blue dragons were suffering from infighting, and the sept was in disarray. The green dragons and black had a long history of peace, but Fodor refused to aid Baltic, preferring instead to cast his vote for formal recognition of the silver dragons.”