Katie MacAlister: The Unbearable Lightness of Dragons

“I have two dreamings—the wintiki, or night bird, and light. It is the latter that was disturbed. I have long suspected that the First Dragon’s songline was located in Australia, although I have yet to prove it.”

“A songline is . . . ?”

She laughed. “I did not call to give you a lecture in Aboriginal history, Ysolde. It would take much time to explain it all, but for now I will simply say that a songline is the dreaming and trail created by spirit beings such as the First Dragon.”

“All right. So because he left behind some sort of an ancient trail, that’s affected your dreaming?”

“Yes. Only his touch upon you would result in such a thing. Tell me again what vision he gave you.”

I described once more the scene between Constantine and the female mage.

“I have heard nothing about the event Constantine described,” she said thoughtfully. “There is no record of Baltic being expelled from his sept. And it is unheard of for the First Dragon to interfere with the weyr. I wonder if Constantine . . .” Her voice trailed off.

“Could he be lying?” I asked, and thought about that for a minute. “I don’t know. I don’t think so. I’m just going to have to ask Baltic about it.”

She laughed. “It is always a challenge to get information from a dragon, and doubly so when it concerns something they do not wish to discuss.”

“And well I know it. But this is too big for him to hide—at least I think it is. I certainly feel like being declared ouroboros is a life-altering event. If it’s true, what could he have done to piss off the First Dragon to that extent?”

“That I do not know, and I suspect you will find it difficult to get Baltic to tell you. But I admit I would give much to know the answer.”

“Let’s look at the facts: the First Dragon resurrects me when Constantine kills me.”

“Yes,” Kaawa said.

“Then he tells me, five hundred years later, mind you, which is a bit annoying, that I am supposed to do something for him.”

“And you somehow let him down before—didn’t he say that?” Laughter was in her voice, taking the sting from the comment.

“Yes.” I sighed. “There’s just nothing like knowing you’ve let down the one dragon ancestor you’ve failed in the past, and he’s told you to do something for him without telling you what it is, and oh, yes, don’t blow it. Again. You know, it’s a wonder I’m still sane, having that hanging over me.”

“I don’t think it’s a bad thing, Ysolde,” Kaawa said slowly, her voice now meditative. “You have warranted his trust for some task. That is an honor, no matter how you look at it.”

“With the bottom line that if the First Dragon sent the vision about Constantine to me, then it must be related to whatever it is I’m supposed to do.”

“Perhaps. Perhaps not. It is definitely odd.”

“I agree, but what am I supposed to do about it other than try to worm the information out of Baltic?”

“I am afraid I do not know, but I suspect you will find that answer for yourself.”

“I wish I knew how I was supposed to do that,” I said, weary of constantly being in the dark concerning whatever task the First Dragon expected me to perform.

“If I could answer that, I would be able to tell you what it is the First Dragon desires of you,” she said with a little laugh. “Talk to your mate. Encourage him to tell you about his past. The answer may well lie there.”

“It might,” I said, a sudden insight coming to me. “But you know, Kaawa, if it was something Baltic did that is connected with my task, then it seems to me that the First Dragon would have given me a vision of that event, not of a discussion by two unrelated people casually mentioning it. No, I think this is a very big—if obscure— hint about something the First Dragon wants me to do about Constantine. He was the focus of the vision. But what is it I’m supposed to do? He’s dead, after all. He is dead, isn’t he?”

“I believe so, yes. I have not heard otherwise.”

“No, but you didn’t know Baltic was alive for almost forty years, either.”

“Gabriel knew something was amiss in the weyr. He could feel a disturbance,” she pointed out.

“True.” I vaguely remembered May telling me something about that, although Gabriel had been hard put to believe that it really was Baltic who had returned to the land of the living.

“It could be something to do with the female,” Kaawa pointed out before continuing. “I must hang up now, child, but I am relieved to know that it was the First Dragon who touched you, and thus my dreaming, and not a malevolent force. Be well.”

I thanked her for troubling herself, still trying to figure out something about the vision that would clue me in to what the First Dragon wanted me to do. “It may be an obscure hint, but it’s surely better than no hint at all,” I said to myself before glancing at my watch. I headed for Brom’s room at a fast trot, since Baltic hated to be late for appointments. “Another vision or two, and I bet it’ll all be clear to me.”

My words echoed hollowly off the empty hall as I took the stairs two at a time, leaving me with a sense of ill-fated foreboding.

“ Ysolde. Brom.” Five seconds passed. “Baltic” .

“Hi, Gabriel.” I smiled at the small group of people standing outside a house in an elite section of London. “May, is that a leather catsuit? I’ve always wanted to wear one, but I just don’t have the figure for it. It looks fabulous on you. Hi, Maata. I hope you’re not going to regret offering to take Brom to the British Museum again. I thought he wore you out the last time he dragged you through it. Good afternoon, Tipene, it’s nice to see you again. Oh, Gabriel, I spoke with your mother a little bit ago—it seems one of my visions disturbed her dreaming and she was checking up on me—she sends her love to both of you. She is so sweet. I can’t tell you how much I appreciate her concern for me. For us. Is she coming back to visit you soon? I’d love to see her again if she does. Maybe we could get together for a clandestine dinner or something, one that no one in the weyr would have to know about. I have a new recipe for the most divine stuffed mushrooms that I’m dying to try out.”

Beside me, Baltic heaved a silent sigh. “Mate—” he started to say in protest.

“It’s called polite chat, Baltic. May and I are going to do it, so you can just stop seething.” I smiled again at May and Gabriel, both of whom were now looking amused. Gabriel’s elite guards, Maata and Tipene, stood directly behind them. Maata’s lips twitched, but she kept her face as stony as Tipene’s.

We made quite a group on the sidewalk.

Baltic, Brom, and I stood with Pavel, all facing the silver dragons. Although May had invited us inside the house, Baltic and Gabriel insisted that the terms of the arrangement called for the handing over of Brom to be conducted outside the confines of their home.

“You had another vision?” May asked, her eyebrows raised.

“Yes, a very interesting one.” I slid a glance toward Baltic, who was staring moodily at Gabriel. There hadn’t been enough time for me to broach the subject of the vision with him, but I fully intended to do so at an appropriate time. “I think it had something to do with what the First Dragon wants me to accomplish for him.”

“Really?” Interest lit up her blue eyes, and much to her wyvern’s dismay, she moved out of formation, took me by the arm, and tugged me toward the gate that led to the minute garden at the back of the house. “Tell me about it.”

“May!” Gabriel demanded, incredulity rife in his voice.