I make a mental note to never cross Mikkel as I nod. “It’s a solid plan, and if we strike at Alfhild’s heart, her most sacred personal space, she won’t have time to amass her thieves and jump us. She’s got a lot of protective magic if she’s able to put curses on other dragons and erase their memories; she won’t rely on any ability to fight us with her power, but will rely on her wards to keep her resting place from being discovered. That’s where we win. If Ström can get us in, with Mikkel and Lærke to boost his power, plus me, we can take her down. Because we all have powers good for fighting—and she just sneaks around in the shadows.”
“As long as I can get us in without tripping any of her copious wards, it’ll be great.” Ström rubs his neck. “The question is… am I that good at curse-breaking?”
“You’re good.” Bjorn sets his big hand on Ström’s shoulder now, squeezing it. “Trust yourself, Eriksson. You got us all the way intoUnhaemmertenwith your power. Don’t gainsay it.”
“True.” Ström is thoughtful as he considers that.
But we’re all exhausted, as Mikkel, and even Lærke, stifle a yawn. I’m bleary, wavering in my seat, as I see Ström shake his head to clear it from a drowning fatigue.
Bjorn’s somehow gotten the worst of it, however, as if dealing with all this Bone Magic has swamped his bright Blood Magic, pulling him under. His head droops, his shoulders jerk twice even as I watch him struggle to stay awake.
I know we need sleep before we can do any of this.
“We need rest, for a few hours, at least.” I stifle a yawn with the back of my hand. “We should head back to Emil’s?—”
“Nonsense.” Lærke pats my hand and rises, waving her long fingers towards the rear of the gaming room. “Mikkel and I have apartments here on the club’s premises, and we also have a guest suite for visiting VIPs. It’s safer if you three stay here, since our wards on the club can conceal you better than if you’re popping in and out going back to Emil’s. The Black Dragon Knights are still out there. Even though we have big fish to fry at the moment, they are the biggest fish. We can’t forget that.”
“Nor will we,” Mikkel says sweetly now as he rises from the couch, kissing his sister on the forehead. Linking his arm in hers, he turns to me. “The three of you stay; the guest quarters are just through that door there.” He nods at a door near the bathroom I used earlier, before covering his own yawn. “We will all get a decent rest, then return here later to plan. We’ll set out tomorrow night; thieves do their thing at night, so we can get into Alfhild’s residence, then jump her when she comes back from a heist.”
“Assuming she still lives there,” Bjorn says as he helps Ström and I rise, though he’s the one who looks like he’s about to fall over from how hard he’s had to steady all this incredible Bone Magic in the past hour.
“It’s the assumption we’ll go on.” Mikkel flashes Bjorn a tight smile. “If she’s no longer using it… we’ll hit up every warehouse, storehouse, and secret planning location they have. Until we finally blast her out of hiding—for good.”
I know Mikkel’s going to do far more than that, as his dark eyes rage copper and cinnabar. He says nothing more, however, merely pins me with his intense gaze before turning and taking the exhausted Lærke towards their own suite at the far back of the gaming room.
It leaves Bjorn, Ström, and me all standing by the dying fire. As I look down, contemplating the twins’ chess match upon the coffee table, I see white’s nearly in checkmate.
I make the last move, swiping black’s queen from the board and placing white’s queen in the final position to checkmate black’s king. But as my mates and I head towards our guest apartment, I hope with all my heart that black’s queen isn’t already poised.
To take our own heart—and finish this game, before we’ve even started.
27
TAKE
As Bjorn, Ström, and I egress into The Chartreuse’s VIP guest suite for the rising day, a deep exhaustion rolls through us. I would have thought Ström would be in the worst shape with everything he went through today, but it’s Bjorn who moves to the big bed and flops down on it, snoring practically before his head hits the pillow.
I can feel through our connection that my big drake is beyond exhaustion. Worry makes me frown now as I move to the bedside, touching his cheek.
Ström chuckles, yanking the duvet out from beneath Bjorn and tossing it over him.
“Aw, big brawny dragon is all tuckered out.” Ström tucks Bjorn in now, without Bjorn so much as twitching a single muscle. But it’s saying something that Bjorn’s this tired; he normally wakes at the slightest sound in the room, bolt-upright and ready for battle.
I worry about him, and how much my power has been draining him as he tries to stabilize the magical shenanigans we’ve been dealing with. As I sit at his bedside now, smoothing a hand over his chest, I feel a deep exhaustion in him, however, as if he’s tried hard with his bright BloodMagic to keep himself and all of us afloat, as we’ve battled through all these immense Bone Magics recently.
But as a deep instinct rises in me now, accompanied by a wash of gold-white and brimstone red from my Bloodwalker power resonating with Aesa’s, I know we don’t just need a stronger Bone Mage in our mix. To battle the Black Dragon, and combat all this intensifying Bone Magic we’ve got going on now, we’ll need a stronger Blood Sage with us, too.
To stabilize Bjorn’s power and mine—so we can fight what’s coming.
“He can’t keep us afloat against so many challenging Bone Magics much longer.” Aesa’s stone hums on my chest, helping me understand my instinct. “All of this with your Bone Mage thieves, plus dealing with Mikkel and Lærke… it’s taking a toll on Bjorn.”
“He’s using his bright Blood Magic to shore us up from drowning in our darkness, over and over.” Ström understands also now, as something in him becomes tender. He reaches down, finding Bjorn’s pulse at his wrist, before tucking Bjorn’s hand under the duvet and glancing at me. “He’s just exhausted; his pulse doesn’t feel too severe, yet. But if we’re going to come up against strong Bone Magic over and over, chasing the Black Dragon?—”
“We’ll need another, stronger Blood Sage in our mix, not just another Bone Mage.” I say it aloud now, as Ström nods like he already heard my thoughts.
“I want to be your only Bone Mage, just as I know Bjorn wants to be your only Blood Sage…” Ström says with a wry smile now as he turns to me. “But it doesn’t look like it’s working out that way. We just need more dragon-power to bolster your Bloodwalker magic against our enemy Bone Mages and the Black Dragon to take them all out. Do you think you’ll take Mikkel as a Bloodmate?”
Ström’s question is acute, and I know he’s been more than paying attention to everything metaphysical that’s been happening with me and Mikkel as I ponder it. “Would you hate it if I did?”
