37

G E O R G I E

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"Do you think I chased them away with my healing powers?" Beau and I walked down the palace corridors that led to the conference room upstairs. I was wearing black skinny pants, a long-sleeved cream sweater, and pretty hair pulled back into a high ponytail.

The sound of my high-tied leather boots was swallowed by the burgundy carpet runner. I couldn't explain what had happened at the mirror. How I managed to banish, bend, the shadows? No, that sounded wrong.

"Is that how it felt?" he asked me, still holding my hand in his. His thumb brushed the back of my hand, sending little shivers down my spine.

"Yes and no." I grimaced at the uninformative answer, but I couldn't give him a better one. The light coursing through my veins and glowing in my palms was no different than that of a wound healing. But the otherwise energy-sapping pull, which made me feel like my flesh was being torn from my bones and slowly being distorted, hadn't happened. Instead, it had filled me with a rush of energy, enticing me to weave more power into the weave. "I have no idea."

"It's okay, we'll find out." He squeezed my hand and then opened the door. We were the last to join the others in the meeting. Xenos, Arya, Aramis, Zaira and Arrow were all present.

Hanging hoya plants perched on the narrow mantelpiece, as well as pachiras, whose plaited trunk and star-shaped green foliage colored the room. The wood in the stove had already burned down, only the black embers were glowing red. The moonlight, which penetrated through the ceiling-high, pointed window front and shimmered on the long, dark solid wood table, provided the only source of light.

Around the table are brown leather chairs that look inviting and comfortable, as if you would sink into them and not be able to get up. Maybe that's why nobody used it and everyone was standing around the table, all but one person.

My eyes stayed on the islander, who was cramped in one of the chairs on the other side of the table. Her hands clenched on the armrest as if her life depended on it. Her wavy, hazel hair fell to her shoulders, caressing her round, pretty face, which looked out of two almond-shaped, purple eyes.

'Now that you're all here. Reyna, would you be so kind as to tell us why you entered my kingdom?” The white linen shirt that Xenos must have recently put on turned red on his shoulder. A gunshot wound that hadn't fully healed.

Reyna cleared his throat, obviously uncomfortable between so many strange werewolves and gis. "It happened about a week ago when we were attacked."

Arya, standing next to Xenos at the top of the table, leaned against him. She didn't seem to have escaped unharmed either. A white bandage was wrapped around her forearm. "Who do you mean we?"

The sun-yellow amulet on Reyna's décolleté shone as she thoughtfully stroked her mustard-yellow, slightly washed-out and battered dress, on which small hummingbirds and cherry blossom petals were printed. "Minkaujin."

Minkaujin. The capital of the small islands of fire that floated in the Veshari.

"It wasn't the first pirate attack, after all we're used to our pack members being shipped off and taken to the Selvian market," she ground out, her undertone showing anger. Her honey-colored skin was terribly pale. She looked more like a ghost than a denizen of Minkaujin, who sizzled in the sun more than anyone else. “But never before have there been so many at once. We were weak, our king had died a few days ago and grief made us inattentive.”

The King of the Fire Islands. Kenshin Nakajima. The royal Nakajima family has ruled the floating islands for thousands of solar orbits. Blair once told me that the islanders believed the Nakajimas had pure dragon blood in their veins and therefore had a sacred mandate to rule over the people.

"So they captured you?" Aramis asked, his arms wrapped around Zaira.

Reyna stared down at the healed wounds on her wrist, visible beneath her many intricate tattoos. "Yes. I was on the Blue Lagoon."

The supple brown leather crumpled under the pressure of my hands as I gripped the back of the chair. "How come? Why do they want healer werewolves so badly?”

“They're rarer than werewolves and gis, so it means they're worth more. That doesn't necessarily mean that only healer werewolves are smuggled across the seas.” Reyna's mouth tightened. "They take anything they can get their dirty little hands that brings in coins."

Her anger met with approval and a polyphonic growl swept through the room. But something was still missing. I didn't understand how Hades was wrapped up in the whole story. Beau released my grip and pulled me to his side. The arm around my waist and the hard, warm chest against my back gave me support to form the next words. "What about the Deathbringer?"

"Yes, there are smuggling ships that venture far north and set foot in the land of the unknown to sell their loot to the Ruinbringer." Reyna almost whispered. 'The pirates tell each other that he pays the highest sums. But not every sailor returns.”

I cupped my hands over Beau's arm as he rested his chin on my head, my heart beating wildly in my chest in the open display of our bond. "Is Hades behind this?"

Reyna pushed her light hair behind her ear and revealed the black dragon on her neck. 'No one knows the Deathbringer, no one has ever seen his face. It is rumored that if you look into his eyes, you will burn yourself. The pirates delivered their pack in front of his great, gloomy estate, and then they return. The gold is in sacks on the deck of her ship the following morning.”

Spells, dark magic, fel power. Hades had often used his powers. And each time it had ended with bloodcurdling screams echoing through the tomb.

"Georgie, what makes you think he's still alive?" Zaira asked in a hoarse voice, who hadn't fully recovered from the fire, and hugged her small, sleeping son to her chest.

"I saw him," I said, and dread rose up inside me like a dark, suffocating cloud of smoke.

Although Beau's attention had been on Arrow since the beginning of the session, who was leaning against a pillar and listening silently to the conversation, he had sensed the restlessness in me and reacted accordingly.

His hand slipped under my sweater, laid on my skin. I'm with you, the gesture seemed to say. I took a deep breath, drawing strength from Beau's embrace, from the throbbing bond that bound us together. Then I told them the same thing I confided to Beau. The warm little kiss on my shoulder when I was at the end of my story brought me back out of the memories.

"You have not seen his face, nor can you put your hand in the fire that your suspicions are correct," Aramis objected. “Hades is dead, my mother, the moon goddess herself, saw it with her own eyes. The council of gods beheaded him and burned his body.”

"Then he must have found some way to get resurrected," I insisted.

Beau's fingers brushed my stomach. “I believe in Georgian's judgment. We must not underestimate this deathbringer, whoever it may be."

Xenos stroked Arya's long braided hair. 'Beau's right. He spoke of a gate and of summoning demons. Gates lead to another dimension, like a portal. He might try to summon dark magic and summon beings that are not of this world. We should all brace ourselves for that.”

Arya smiled slightly as Xenos traced the back of her neck. "Any clue as to exactly where these catacombs are?"

I shook my head. I had gone through the phrases a thousand times in my head, chewing them over and over again. "No."

"So his palace is in the land of the unknown?" Aramis asked, and when Reyna nodded, he added, "Then there's a good chance the catacombs are not far away, if not in the same place."

I cleared my throat. "I have another idea. A portal transports someone to the place they are thinking of. Well I know the place. If I-"

"No," Beau cut me in roughly. He had lifted his chin from my head and grabbed my waist.

"I'm the only one who can take us straight to the catacombs, without detours." I ignored Beau's growl. "It's our only option."

"Only over my bloody dead body." He pulled his arm away from me and turned me to face him. 'Are you out of your mind? I won't let you straight into the lion's den. That's exactly what he wants!'

'Georgie's not entirely wrong, Beau. If it really was Hades, then our best chance would be if we didn't have to first penetrate his palace and locate the catacombs, which might not be there at all,” argued Aramis.

Beau's claws shot out and he pushed himself in front of me. He bared his teeth like a wild wolf. "Just try to take her from me."

A hand settled on Arami's shoulder. "Leave it. Just think what it would be like if it were Zaira.” Xenos settled the situation. “Besides, it's too dangerous. If Georgie is the key to opening this gate, she must not get anywhere near Hades. Who knows what he intends to do with an open gate to the underworld.”

Aramis nodded, brushing the subject off the table, but I could tell from his scowl that he still agreed with my plan.

"There's another option," Reyna piped up. “Our people have traveled a great deal, know their way around the sea and are worldly. There are no warriors more familiar with the land of the unknown than our dragon warriors. Strike a deal with us. We'll help you kill the Deathbringer if you help us stop the slave trade and bring our people home."

Arya gave her a scrutinizing, slightly suspicious look. 'Well and good, just who are you to determine such a matter. I'm guessing we'll have to work this out with the king's successor. Do you happen to know him?'

The islander straightened in her chair, purple eyes radiating unmistakable pride. "Yes I do. I am Reyna Nakajima, eldest daughter of Kenshin Nakajima and Princess of the Fire Islands.”

"Anyone object to the suggestion?" When no one answered, Xenos held out his hand. “Good, Reyna, daughter of Kenshin Nakajima. Escort us to your homeland tomorrow and we'll make a deal. Zeris atek Zeris.”

She struck, and her eyes glittered with determination, none of the initial shyness to be seen. "Zeris atek Zersi."