“Ruta might be able to look at these items for us.” Ström glances at me. “She might be back in Jurggadden, still helping heal Vjen.”
“I’m not sure I want to involve Ruta in all this just yet.” I shake my head now, some instinct warning me away from getting any of the Black Dragon Knights Council involved in what we’ve found, even though Ruta is a friend. Aesa’s stone hums on my chest, lightly, as if in agreement, as Ifeel a brief flash of red inside me. “I say we ask people outside the Knights Council first, just in case.”
“We still don’t know who Maryse’s betrayer was on the Council.” Bjorn nods, more alert now as he gets my train of thought. “If they found out we’d retrieved all this stuff connected to the Black Dragon, they might hand it over to the renegade Bone Mages who just might have a use for it.”
“Too bad we can’t ask them to look into these items for us,” I snort, feeling stymied as we hit such a deep snag in our plans to look through all this stuff for Jarl Jorg, and find out what it means.
Not to mention our King—who needs us to stop this thing at all costs.
“Actually…” Ström blinks now as he sets his latest pancake back down on his plate. A thoughtful look comes into his green eyes as he looks at me. “I think I may have just the people who could help us.”
“Who?” I ask, frowning at him, as Bjorn looks at him, alert.
“Mikkel and Lærke Thorsen.” Ström glances between me and Bjorn. “They’re interesting cats and have studied some of the most ancient Bone Mage dialects, because they often investigate magical items and ancient texts for people who discover them, including me. They’ve helped me not just improve my knowledge of ancient Bone Mage languages, but they also know several ciphers that were in use way back when. They use them for communication in their clubs—anything that’s sensitive and can’t be outed to anyone, other than the two Proprietors themselves. It stands to reason these documents might be ancient cyphers of a lost Bone Mage language. If so… we’d have no chance at reading them. But Mikkel and Lærke might.”
“The Danish twins.” My eyebrows rise, even as something inside me roars.
Thinking about seeing Mikkel Thorsen again.
I squash that feeling down, deep inside. My drakaina can be as attracted to him as she likes, but I amsonot going to take that kind of trouble into my bed, or my bond. Mikkel may be a smooth talker and asuccessful businessman, but there’s a dark side to him that makes my blood curdle.
Ström sees my hesitation, as the protective cinnabar red of his dragon flares in his eyes.
“Rikyava. You’ve got serious mixed feelings about the Thorsens. Care to share so we don’t have to pry into your mind?” Ström stares me down across the table. Bjorn is no less intense as he watches me.
Feeling my energy churn through our connection—conflicted.
“They’re just… pirates,” I say, knowing my assessment of Mikkel and his twin sister Lærke is accurate as a deep instinct growls inside me. “I know you’re friends with them, Ström, but those two are trouble. I know you think we need them to read these scrolls for us… but I feel like we should find another way.”
“You don’t trust the Thorsens.” Bjorn’s quick summary is accurate as he watches me. He’s not met Mikkel and Lærke yet. I’ve only gone to see them with Ström.
He knows that my power seriously mate-tasted Mikkel Thorsen, however, and also that strange Icelandic artist at the club that night, Baldur Sigurðsson. But just because my power wants somebody doesn’t mean they’re a suitable mate for us.
I hesitate, then lay it out straight.
“Look, it’s not that I don’t trust the Thorsens, it’s just that I get a really catastrophic vibe from them.” I glance at Bjorn, then Ström. “Mikkel is like a multiple personality almost, able to change so completely on a dime that I don’t know who the fuck he is. And Lærke is some serious power to be reckoned with, with a vicious attitude to boot. I think even with our trio’s strengthening abilities, we should be wary of them. Friends or no.”
“Wise words.” To my surprise, it’s Ström who speaks out now against his so-called friends as he nods. “They’re terribly powerful, Yava, far stronger in their Bone Magic than I am, though I have a few unique abilities they lack. But the twins are not to be crossed, ever. I’ve been careful tonot do that in all the time I’ve known them because I know how diabolical they can be. They can, however, also be a tremendous help… when the mood strikes them.”
“But that’s just it. They’re… moody,” I say as I figure it out. “Far more than me, or even Bjorn. They have this uncanny ability to smile at your face and then stab a talon in your back… if you get what I’m saying.”
“Duplicitous.” Bjorn crosses his arms where he sits with one hip against the table.
“Completely,” Ström admits, as he rounds the table now, coming to me. He stands beside me, grave. “Mikkel and Lærke are true powerhouses of Bone Magic, Rikyava. They are the very best and worst of what it can do. And they’ve had reason to be cagey, secretive, and unpredictable, to stay alive given their tough situation. Not only that, but they’ve grown themselves an empire right under the Black Dragon Knight’s careful watch. They’re survivors, and sometimes… real survivors don’t play nice.”
“Doesn’t mean we should trust them.” Bjorn is stoic as he sets his jaw. “I think Rikyava’s right. We should leave them out of this. Look elsewhere for answers.”
“I still think I’m right.” Ström sighs, then holds up his hands. “Fine. I’ll start by asking my grandmother and great-grandfather if they can read any of what’s written here, or anyone they know in the True Knights. We’ll investigate those avenues first, since they’re the most likely to help us. Then we’ll go to Mik and Lærke as a last resort. Happy?”
“Better, yeah.” I nod, blowing out a tense breath I didn’t even know I was holding. “We’ll ask Ruta as a last resort, as well. Ström, you start with your family and I’ll start by calling my stepfathers to see what they might be familiar with. Bjorn… any chance you can get in contact with that drakaina who was part of the True Black Dragon Knights, who stood up for us against your father?”
“You mean Svanhild Magnussen?” Bjorn gives me a small smile now, an eager edge in it. “I can. She’s my great-aunt, actually. My father’s last surviving aunt, predominantly because she’s a fucking powerhouse of anold battle matriarch. It’s why she’s the only person who can speak to him like that in the clan, with such zero-fucks impudence.”
“That drakaina was your aunt?” Ström whistles as a grin beams from him. “What a righteous bitch.”
“Great-aunt. And she is a righteous bitch, but in a good way,” Bjorn says with a ready gleam in his eyes as he glances at me. “I’ve got a way of contacting Aunt Svanhild, covertly. I’ll get in touch with her this morning, find out if she can help us.”
“Great. Then we all have our work cut out for us.” I smile now, relief filling me that we’re not at a total dead end. We have people to contact, avenues to investigate; our sleuthing into the scrolls and arcane items of my ancestor don’t end here.
