Page 43 of Blue Embers
“A battering ram. Something to crack the walls of our defenses so they can flood the trenches.”
“They need the Leviathan, which Valerio knew about.”
“Valerio is gone. Draven was unable to find any answers with his pendant. The only mind that could possibly know anything is the kid’s. Valerio’s memories. His entire existence could have very well been passed down to her when he touched Persephone’s sister.”
“Her?” I asked.
Saxon nodded once. “The child was a girl. That’s all I know.”
I let out a long breath. “Perhaps morning is a bit too late to leave for the estate, my friend.”
Saxon nodded, his jaw tense with urgency.
“I can make it there in a few hours if I leave now.”
“Good.” I looked over my shoulder through the glass doors at Malice practically snoring on the sofa. “Leave him with me. I could use the muscle in case anything else comes our way.”
As Saxon turned toward the railing again, his eyes flicked toward Persephone standing inside. He paused, analyzing her in a way I was unable to.
“She’s not out of danger,” he said, glancing at me once more. “If our enemies want the girl, they might think Persephone knows where she is. Keep her close.”
“I was planning to,” I replied.
With that, Saxon stepped over the railing like it was little more than a small log in his way and descended the hill toward the beach. Once the terrain was open enough for him to shift into his massive, dragon form, the flame and embers consumed him in a whirlwind of hot energy. It grew until the beast emerged, dark, red scales, glowing eyes, copper spines and all. He extended his vast wingspan and with one downward thrust he leapt up into the air. Sand gushed toward the house with the rush of wind from his ascent. As his giant shape climbed higher, I turned around and headed back inside. Malice was awake, having felt Saxon’s transformation leave a static charge in the air, and stood, brows furrowed.
“The bloke leave without me?” he asked.
“You’re staying,” I informed him.
“Great,” he smiled, sitting back down comfortably on the couch.
Persephone questioned the situation with her eyes when I looked at her.
“Saxon is going to meet Draven,” I explained. “They’ll handle the situation with your sister’s child. In the meantime, I’ll be doing some digging in my office.”
“I’ll come with you,” she said, following me into the basement.
In my office, the motion lights brightened the space upon our entrance. I caught a glimpse of the bullet on the table and glared, bitter that the thing existed. Especially now that moves had been made against us in such an obvious manner once more. I placed the journal on the table beside it before sitting at the computer to check on my tracking software. Persephone stood over the journal, looking between it and the bullet.
“So?” she asked after a small stretch of silence. “What is this?”
I looked at her eyes settled on the leather-bound book, sensing the intrigue in her tone.
“A very old recording of events throughout my life,” I said. “There’s a small chance that there are a few things in there that could provide some insight. We’ve faced Zephyre before. They’re not a new enemy, just an evolved one.”
“Can I look through it?”
“Be my guest, but half of it is in Kumirian,” I smiled.
Persephone let out a small chuckle and raised her brows. “I only know Draakonian,” she shrugged.
I knew the woman was educated, but it was a rare thing to meet a human who knew Draakonian. The language was complex. The accent was rough and most humans didn’t care to even try to learn it. Looking at Persephone, I didn’t doubt that she was the type to have studied it intensely.
“Hanela’parak drovakkan orim hanela’ak taka (Prove it or you’re a liar),” I tested her.
Persephone’s eyes moved toward me, narrowing as her mouth curled into a challenged smirk. Her body squared, turning my way as if to accept an invitation.
“Mev’hanela’ashim, Draak. Dovo’onecktala hanela’ava brak (You doubt me, Draak. That makes you an idiot),” she replied, her accent a bit weak, but her words accurate.
