Dragon Soul (Dragon Falls, #3)(72)

“Pretty words, wyvern,” I said, moving around to sit beside him, reveling in the feel of his leg against mine. “But let’s have a little more of that attention toward not setting everything in the cabin on fire every time we get a little romantic.”

Rowan made a face. “I admit I’m not very much in control of fire yet.”

“What did you mean when you said that May swore fealty to you?” I asked Gabriel. “That’s like an oath of honor, yes?”

“In a way, yes. All dragons swear fealty to their wyvern, including their mates. It means simply that you as a mate will put Rowan first in your thoughts and will do your best for the sept. In turn, Rowan will swear to protect and honor you. You are not truly considered mated until the oath of fealty is sworn.” His eyes held an obvious question.

I ignored it, trying to decide if the promises we had made each other a couple of nights before had been sufficient to be considered an oath of fealty. “Maybe you can tell me what this is. Rowan… I don’t know what the verb would be—burned? Marked?—anyway, he did this to me, and we are at a loss why he did it. Or even how.” I knelt down between the two men, and lifted the hair off the back of my neck to show the odd tattoo.

“Ah, Rowan has placed a sept mark upon you. Interesting choice of images,” Gabriel said. “The silver dragons bear the image of a hand with a crescent moon. The sept mark is something all dragons give to their mates and children. If you have given the oath of fealty, then you should be able to reciprocate the mark on Rowan.”

“How?” I asked.

“Breathe fire on the same spot on his neck.”

I looked at Rowan. He looked back at me. “I don’t know how to breathe fire,” I told him.

“No, you don’t. You can set fire to your feet, though.”

“And I did spit out a little ball of fire at that talking dog.”

“True. Would that do the trick?” Rowan asked Gabriel.

He shrugged. “It might. Or it might be a matter of Sophea practicing how to harness your fire. No doubt she didn’t have time to learn to use Jian’s before he was killed, so her abilities might be a bit stunted.” Gabriel rose. “If there are no more questions, I must go find May. She wishes to pick out a costume for me for tomorrow’s party, and although I can think of few things I’d like to do less than prance around in a costume, I live to make her happy.”

“Actually, I do have another question. Ipy is missing. You two haven’t seen her, have you?”

Rowan looked thoughtful. “I passed them this morning. They were all wearing swimsuits, so I gathered they were coming here.”

“They did, but Ipy left shortly thereafter and hasn’t been seen since. And the captain”—I shot a disparaging look toward the bridge—“insists that she’s just sleeping off a hangover. But that’s not like Ipy. She takes her guard duties very seriously.”

“We can have a look around,” Rowan said, getting to his feet.

We made it down to the main saloon on the floor below before one of the crewmen staggered into the room, a blanket-covered form in his arms. I didn’t have to see under the blanket to recognize what it was—a body.

“Oh, dear goddess, no,” I said, my stomach twisting around on itself. “No, not Ipy. Tell me that’s not Ipy!”

Another crewman followed with a second blanketed bundle, this one much smaller. Both men looked faintly green. “Get the captain,” the first one said to the second, who promptly put down his small bundle, ran to a wastebasket, and threw up violently and noisily.

“I don’t want to know what that is, do I?” I asked Rowan, tears making my throat hurt.

He glanced at the small bundle to which I was pointing and shook his head. “Go back to the cabin.”

I thought about arguing, but decided this was one time I wasn’t going to fight for equality in dealing with difficult situations.

I ran out of the room, almost mowing down May and Gilly as they were coming upstairs.

“Come with me, both of you,” I said quietly and, taking Gilly by the arm, steered her down to the cabin.

“What is it? Did you find Ipy? Is she ill?” Gilly asked when we closed the door behind us. My throat was still aching with the need to cry… not cry, scream. Rail. Wail and sob and generally grieve as loudly as I could. But I knew if I gave in, the others would as well. Control, that’s what was needed here. Compassion for the feeling of the priestesses, yes, but I had to remain in control to ensure Mrs. P was kept safe.

“Yes, we found her. Come along—I only want to do this once.”

May looked concerned, but said nothing as we entered Mrs. P’s room. Several of the ladies were lying on makeshift pallets on the floor, one or two reading, one playing on a tablet computer, and a couple with eyeshades on, clearly having a nap. Mrs. P was sitting with Bunefer, having an intricate henna tattoo applied to the back of her hand.

“Ladies—” My voice broke. I cleared it and tried again. “Ladies, I have some very bad news. Tragic news. Ipy has been… she’s passed away.”

“What?” Gilly screeched and grabbed my arm. “How can she? She’s like the rest of us—immortal. She can’t just die.”

I tried to forget that image of the smaller second bundle. “I think… I think someone did a grievous injury to her.”