Dragon's Blood (The Dragon's Gift Trilogy #2)

“You should wear that for as long as possible—” Lucyan began, but just then someone knocked on the door. “Who is it?” he called as Dareena jumped up from the bed, an alarmed look on her face. Lucyan remembered that Drystan had given the elven duchess the distinct impression that he alone was Dareena’s mate…did the elves still think that, or were they aware of their arrangement?

“It’s Princess Basilla,” the visitor called. “I’m coming to check on your patient.”

“Come in,” Lucyan said, snatching the amulet from Alistair’s hand and putting it in his coat pocket. He turned to greet the princess just in time to see the look of pleased surprise on her face as she beheld Alistair.

“You are looking much improved,” she said to Alistair as she stopped at the foot of the bed. “How are you feeling?”

“Like a new man, thanks to the doctor,” Alistair said. “I am grateful to you for hiring him.”

“It was the least I could do after the way my horrid brother treated you,” Basilla said. She turned her gaze to Lucyan. “Unfortunately, my father has said that once Alistair is nursed back to health, you must leave the building. His policy about not letting outsiders into the castle is rather strict.”

“I understand,” Lucyan said, inclining his head. “Before I go, could I have a chance to speak to my patient and his…friend…alone? I need to give them instructions on how to administer the potions I will be leaving behind.”

“Of course.” Princess Basilla glanced between them, and Lucyan could have sworn he caught a glimmer of skepticism in her eyes. But she left, and Lucyan made a big show of rummaging through his doctor’s bag within view of the guards before she closed her door.

“You can’t leave now,” Dareena whispered, clutching at Lucyan’s arm. “You only just got here, and we haven’t come up with a good plan yet!”

“I have no choice,” Lucyan whispered back. “There is no way to smuggle either of you out with the guards watching. I will see if there is a way to sneak you out from the outside, but if not, you must find a way on your own.”

“I’m sure the two of us can manage something, now that Arolas is no longer a thorn in our side,” Alistair said. “We should set a rendezvous point.”

“I’ll be waiting at the Whistling Willow for you,” Lucyan said. “Go there and ask for Ramsey, the tinkerer’s apprentice.”

“Tinkerer’s apprentice?” Alistair frowned.

Lucyan rolled his eyes. “It’s a long story. I’ll be waiting with provisions, and some fast horses.” It would be easier to avoid detection if they left on horseback—he could always shift later, once they were out of view. “Stay safe in the meantime,” he said.

“We will,” Alistair promised, giving Lucyan a fierce hug. Lucyan hugged him back, then gave Dareena a quick kiss to tide him over. She clung to him, clearly not wanting to let him go.

“I’ll see you soon,” he murmured, drying the tears falling from her lashes. His heart ached to see her so distraught, but he had to leave now before the guards grew suspicious.

“I know you will.” She put on a brave smile for him, then pushed him toward the door. “Go now.”

He did, and though his heart was heavy, for the first time in a long while, it was also filled with hope.





26





“What do you mean, he’s not awake yet?” Drystan growled. The fork bent in his clenched grip. He was half-tempted to wad it up into a ball and shove it down the warlock’s throat. Maybe that would bring him back to consciousness.

Catriona scowled. “I meant exactly what I said. He’s not awake yet. The sleeping potion we doused him with must have been stronger than I thought.”

“I may have given him an extra dose,” Taldren said sheepishly.

“You what?” Catriona twisted in her seat to face him. The three of them were gathered around the table in the royal suite, eating breakfast. “Are you daft, cousin? That much could have killed him!”

“And so what if it did?” Taldren said defensively. “After what that bastard did, he deserves to die.”

Drystan groaned. “As much as I agree with that sentiment, we need him alive to question him,” he said, scrubbing a hand over his beard. “You’d better hope he wakes up soon, Taldren. If he dies, I’ll have you busted down to stable boy.”

“Great,” Taldren muttered. “Mucking out stalls again. Just what I was hoping for.”

“Mucking out stalls will be the least of our worries if we don’t get to the bottom of this,” Catriona said. “We need to find out what the warlocks are up to, or we’ll never be free of their constant meddling.”

Drystan scooped a forkful of sausage into his mouth, considering the situation. Would the oracle imposter tell them anything? Drystan had no idea what he was capable of—for all he knew, by the time they went down there the bastard could have melted off his shackles and escaped despite the twenty-four-hour watch Drystan had posted. He wished Lucyan were here—out of everyone in their family, he was the only one who dabbled with warlock-enchanted items and the like. It was quite likely he would know of a way to keep the warlock restrained. Luckily, Shadley was still around; he would seek out the spymaster after breakfast and ask him if anything could be done to secure the warlock’s cell against magical meddling.

“Your Highness!” A messenger bustled in, clutching a scroll. “A message has come from the elves.”

Drystan’s heart jumped in his chest. “Let’s see it,” he demanded, holding out his hand. Taldren and Catriona gathered around him as he unrolled the scroll, and Drystan clenched his jaw as he read it. The message was unsigned, but the snooty tone told him it was likely from Arolas—if he did not pay up in a week’s time, one of the hostages would be executed.

“Enough of this,” Drystan growled, slapping the scroll onto the table. “We cannot afford to wait for the scouts to find Father’s lair.”

“What are you going to do?” Catriona asked as he shoved to his feet. For once, she actually looked alarmed. “You can’t be thinking about running off to the Black Mountains, can you?”

“That’s exactly what I’m going to do.” Drystan strode to the coat rack by the door and grabbed his cloak. “Catriona, you’re in charge while I’m gone, and Taldren, you’re second in command. I’ll be back by nightfall. Try not to let the place fall apart until then.”

Ignoring their sputtering protests, Drystan stalked out the door. Several nobles tried to waylay him, but he ignored them, stopping only to tell his steward that he would be out for the day. As soon as he was free of the castle walls, he shifted into dragon form, then launched himself off the cliffside and into the air.