The beautiful white-blond enchantress moved to stand next to them. “I’m here. What do you need?”
“If I brought Seraphina to you in Avalon, do you think you could stop her from turning? That whatever is saving the children could save her, too?”
Merlin hesitated. “It might, but it could also kill her, since she’s in the process of changing already. I don’t know what type of spell Zeus has her under. You know as well as I do how unreasonable magick can be, and the unforeseen consequences.” She glanced to his children. “Plus, she’s not your bloodline. While she carried your young and has mixed her blood with yours, it’s not the same as being born of the drakomai. There’s just no telling what might happen. I’m sorry, Max. I don’t want to try something and lose her.”
Tears choked him. Merlin was right. With her returned to stone, there was always a chance he could find another way to restore her. To get the Tablet from Kessar and use it to free her again.
But there was no way back from dead. Especially not if Zeus splintered her statue first.
“Thanks, Merlin.”
She inclined her head to him before the mist in the orb swallowed them.
Sera cocked her head to stare up at him. “What’s with that look? What are you planning?”
Yeah, you’re scaring me, too.
He stood up. “I’m going after Kessar and the Tablet.”
“Are you out of your mind?”
Max shook his head. “It’s the only way. He used it to free you. Then I can use it to keep you here, too.” He looked at Illarion. “Right?”
His brother shook his head. Yeah… no, this is a really bad, bad idea. Like trying to blow-dry your hair while showering, or piss into a high wind. Are you out of your mind?
“No. I’m desperate.”
Same thing.
He gave his brother an irritated smirk.
Well, it is.
Sera stood up beside him. “I agree with Illarion. Don’t even think about doing this. Are you insane? You can’t walk into a colony of demons and Amazons who want you dead, and take the Tablet the head demon covets most. They tend to react badly to such things. Believe me. I’ve seen it. I do believe Nala wears the claw of the last dragon possessed of such arrogance.”
Illarion gestured his agreement at Sera. How many more challenges are you planning to issue? Sheez, Max. There are far less painful ways to die. Drowning in acid comes to mind.
Suddenly, a light flashed in the room with them. Max started toward it, but something kept him in place. A strong, unseen force he couldn’t break.
Furious, he manifested a fire blast to attack. Until he recognized the source of the power.
Falcyn.
Only this time, he wasn’t in dragon form. Dressed in their ancient black war garb, he wore the skins and furs of the slayers who’d made the mistake of coming after him, as trophies and testament to his unsurpassed martial skills. His black hair was short except for one long braid that was wrapped around his throat and adorned with a silver dragon pendant that matched his pale eyes. They flashed like mercury in the dim light.
And they missed no detail at all.
Illarion’s eyes widened as he saw him there. He inclined his head in acknowledgment of his older brother’s birth order and out of respect.
Returning the gesture to Illarion, Falcyn closed the distance between them with that fierce predatorial walk that was uniquely his.
Without a word, he stopped in front of Seraphina and met Max’s gaze. “May I?” It was forbidden for a drakomas to touch another’s mate without permission. To do so was a killing offense in their culture.
Max nodded.
Sera frowned at him as she looked back and forth between them. “Max?”
“It’s all right, Sera. This is my brother Falcyn. I trust him… most days.”
Ignoring his teasing barb, Falcyn touched her icy forehead, then her hand. “Who curses her?”
“Zeus.”
He scoffed disdainfully. “Then I hope this seriously pisses that bastard by-blow off. You should have told me that originally. I wouldn’t have had to soul-search nearly as long before helping you.”
With one claw, Falcyn made a small incision on his wrist until he could gather three drops of blood. From his satchel, he pulled a small oblong ball that resembled an egg, then coated it with his blood. He placed it in her hands and cupped them around it while he chanted in their mother’s tongue. He used her hands to turn the egg round and round.
After a few seconds, Sera sucked her breath in sharply, but Falcyn held her hands in place around the egg. She hissed. “It’s burning.”
Max tightened his arms around her. “It’ll be all right. He’s drawing the poison from you. Give him time to work.”
Only then did she relax a degree.
By the time Falcyn finished the ritual, she was even paler, but her breathing was more solid.
Falcyn wiped the stone off on his sleeve, and returned it to his satchel. He glanced about the loft expectantly. “You said you have dragonets?”