Page 37 of Ash

It darted across in front of him, appearing and vanishing in an instant. And on its heels, something so dark it glistened indigo. Much smaller than a Dragon, but the same shape. There, and then gone. But when it flitted across a gap in the clouds, he saw a vivid white streak through the hair beneath its crest.

Just like the woman. But she was Dire, not Dragon.

He beat at the air with his wings, moving faster and faster, and yet all he gained were glimpses—sometimes of the golden Dragon. A wing or a hindquarter. And occasionally, of what followed it.

Another Dragon? How could it be the Mover? She wasn’t a Dragon.

He had to know...

“Tyrez! Wake the hell up!”

Tyrez sat up so suddenly he almost fell off the couch. Razir stood in his living room, his wings retracting into his shoulders as purple scales chased over his body.

It took Tyrez a moment to orient to time and place. He was at his apartment in Arandag, not flying in pursuit of a mysterious Dragon. He’d brought the Mover back here after the battle in the cemetery. She was in his bed, which was why he’d fallen asleep on the couch.

The last traces of the dream coursed through him. The golden one—it had to be the Oracle, Ash. But the other? He’d heard the howl of a Dire, and then saw a black Dragon... With a white streak in its hair.

He shook his head. Why had he dreamed of her as a Dragon, when she was Dire? But then his dreams, as of late, hadn’t exactly been normal.

Not that humans couldn’t be turned into Dragons...

Clad only in his purple scales, Razir was a bristling, pacing presence in the living room.

“We searched every inch of that cemetery,” he growled. “No sign of Rindek.”

Tyrez rubbed his aching head. “Yeah.” The news didn’t surprise him. He’d sensed the Warlock pass through the gate. Razir had taken over the search, while Tyrez carried the Mover here.

His brother took his pacing self into Tyrez’s kitchen. He waved his arm at Sparkle, who sat on the counter amid a small cloud of ash, with her face in the fruit bowl.

“What the hell is Jacques’s pet doing here?”

Tyrez cradled his head in his hands. “She drops in for fruit.”

His brother stopped to stare at the creature. “Your informant’s Phoenix drops in for fruit? What if she’s bugged?”

“You’re saying Sparkle is a spy?” It wasn’t as though it hadn’t occurred to Tyrez. He didn’t think he was interesting enough to be monitored. Half the time he wasn’t even here, he put fruit out for her, and when he returned, it would be gone. He didn’t mind the ash and feathers left behind.

His brother was not so cavalier about it. “Jacques would sell his own mother for currency.”

Tyrez frowned, his denial automatic. “No, he wouldn’t.” He pulled a pen and paper from a drawer in the coffee table. “It’s good Sparkle is here, because I need to see Jacques.” As he scribbled on the paper, he asked, “Is there another reason you’re stomping around my kitchen yelling at me?”

Razir’s eyes glowed. “The woman. What the shards were you thinking? You shouldn’t have brought her here.” His eyes returned to the feasting Phoenix. “Maybe Jacques can take her.”

The pacing, and the discussion, only added to Tyrez’s aching head. “You’d take her to Jacques?” He stared at his brother. “You know what she’s been through.”

Razir stopped and stared at him. “No, I don’t. And neither do you.”

Point, but Tyrez didn’t have to have proof to suspect what was likely the truth. “We know Rindek’s methods from what the other women endured. And Dani was with him for months. No way she’s not traumatized as hell. I won’t subject her to Jacques.”

His brother frowned. “He’s harmless. If you tell him—”

“He’s a Satyr, Razir. He can’t help himself. The last thing she needs is Jacques fawning all over her.” He gestured to the Phoenix. “Here, Sparkle.”

The creature flew over to him, and he fiddled with the cylinder on her chest, folding the note into it.

His brother’s lips twisted as he watched. “I guess the woman might drop a boulder on him, and then we’d be down an informant.” Razir resumed his pacing. “But she can’t stay here, Tyrez. The ‘no nonDragons in the palace’ rule is there for a reason.”

“For shard’s sake, what do you think I’m going to do?” Tyrez growled at his brother. He capped the cylinder. Sparkle began to preen, digging her beak among her feathers and emitting small poofs of soot.

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