“Ley line power has to be balanced by the practitioner?”
“Technically no, but ninety percent of the time yes, because—well, that’s complicated. Do you need to know that part? Okay, then, we’ll just call it mostly yes and move on. Balancing that much power is one reason using ley line energy directly is so dangerous, and Cullen is not naturally balanced. Trust me on that. But sorcerers have the advantage of being able to see the power they’re directing. I’d guess that dragon spawn have the same advantage.” She paused. “Did you get me talking about craft to calm me down?”
“No, that’s a happy accident.” Cynna’s foot hadn’t stopped its jittery tapping. Did she think she was calm? And Lily had to quit putting off sharing what she’d learned. She reached for Cynna’s hand. Physical contact made mindspeech easier. Cynna, I need to tell you what I learned from Kongqi. We made a deal. One of the terms of the deal is that I’m not supposed to reveal its terms or its existence to anyone who was born in this realm. Before I tell you, you’re supposed to promise that, too.
Cynna’s foot stilled briefly. Her reply came back clearly. That’s a nice, big loophole. Okay. I promise not to reveal the terms or the existence of your deal with Kongqi to anyone born in this realm.
Lily continued. In exchange for me telling him stuff about dragons—about sentient dragons, that is. That’s what he calls our dragons. In exchange for that, Kongqi told me why they stole the children.
Cynna went utterly still.
There was no good way to say this, or else she was too tired to think of one. Straight out would have to do. The spawn want to Change the way lupi do, only between human and dragon, not wolf. The Great Bitch has taught them some rite or ritual they can use to steal the children’s ability to Change.
Silence. Cynna was so still . . . “Are you breathing? You’re not breathing.”
Cynna gulped in air. “I am now. I’m fine. I’m okay, except for being a fucking mess and there’s no one to shoot when I really want to shoot someone—which is certainly some kind of messed up, but I’m okay. What you said . . . that makes sense, doesn’t it? These spawn want to be full dragons just like the ones Sam told you about, but they’re not quite crazy enough to give up being able to communicate, and they’re mind-dark, so that means staying human-shaped. But they want it both ways—able to be dragon when they want and human when they need to. Best of both worlds for them. And I shouldn’t be talking. Not out loud. Shit. Shutting up now.”
“It’s probably okay. I’m ninety-nine percent sure Fang has a translation charm, but Fang’s not nearby. No one is.” She could tell because she checked with her mindsense. “They’re all off enjoying their emergency, which is why we’re stuffed into a coat closet. A really small coat closet.”
“Where I can’t pace, which is just wrong.” Cynna sucked in another shuddery breath. “That’s their deal with the Great Bitch, isn’t it? Their half of it, I mean. They get to be dragons, only with the Change so they can be humans, too. What does she get?”
“I don’t know. Kongqi wouldn’t even discuss making that part of our deal.” Which she shouldn’t mention out loud, just in case someone did wander by or have a clairaudience spell or Gift they could use to listen in . . . the “not reveal” part of the deal meant she had to make every effort not to be overheard. She switched back to mindspeech. Think at me. Don’t speak.
A pause, then: Right. Why children?
What?
Did Kongqi say why they needed children for this power-rape they’ve got planned? Was it because kids would be easier to handle than adult lupi, or does their ritual require lupi who haven’t Changed yet?
They need children, Lily sent grimly. Children too young for First Change. Once a lupus has Changed, the ability can’t be stripped from him.
“Shouldn’t be possible at any point,” Cynna muttered. Then said silently, Did he say if this power-rape would kill the kids?
I didn’t ask. I assumed . . . but I can ask next time. I get to ask a question every time he sends for me for a chat.
A moment’s brooding quiet, both physical and mental, then Cynna sent, I want to say hell yes, ask that, but there might be something else we need to know more.
Lily had a dozen questions she wanted badly to have answered. Yeah, we’ll need to talk about that. About what I should ask. Cynna, they stole five children. And there are six spawn.
“Shit. Yes. So—” Cynna stopped the out-loud part of her speech. They tried for more but they got stopped, so they’ve only got five kids, which means one of them is left out. That’s got to make trouble. Trouble among the spawn has to be good for us, if we can just figure out how to make use of it.
That’s what it looks like, Lily agreed. I don’t have any suggestions yet for how to do that, but we can keep it in mind. Look for opportunities. Another opportunity might be the dragons.
What? How?
If we can get in touch with one of the dragons here—not the mind-dark ones that they call wild dragons, but a regular dragon—
“Lily, they’re all wild dragons.”
“All?” Lily stared as if her incredulity might let her see through the blackness. “That doesn’t make sense. Do you mean that they’re all mind-dark?”
“Like the spawn, you mean? Putting together what Alice told me with what I know about dragons, I’d say yes. They don’t use mindspeech. They don’t seem to communicate with each other or with the humans here. The people here think of them as beasts—huge and scary and not sentient.”
“All of them.” Lily’s mind was well and truly boggled. “But that would mean that every dragon in Dragonhome is the result of . . .” Dammit, she could not speak about botched hatchings to Cynna. That was the dragons’ deepest, darkest secret, and she’d given her word not to—
The ground shook.
Earthquakes were familiar territory for California-born-and-bred Lily. That didn’t make them welcome, especially when she was locked up underground. Automatically she reached for Rule again. The connection, however dim and remote, soothed her. “Shit. What are they doing out there?”
“Might be the dragon, not the spawn.”
“Can dragons do that? Cause earthquakes?”
“I don’t know.”
“This place is probably seismically active. They’ve got a myth about a great serpent who sleeps deep in the earth and—” Lily stopped abruptly.
“What?” Cynna demanded. “What is it?”
“Nothing.” Nothing important, she sent.
Tell me.
It really is nothing. I just noticed that Rule’s moving. He’s been staying in the same spot, or at least it seemed like he was. It’s hard to tell when he’s so far away. It startled me when I realized he was moving, that’s all.
Cynna spoke slowly. “You’re talking about the—”
“Not out loud, I’m not.”
Right, Cynna sent. The mate bond. You feel Rule through it?
Of course. He’s really far away—or it feels like he is, but that might be because we aren’t in the same realm.