A Destiny of Dragons (Tales From Verania #2)(74)

“Anything is possible,” Morgan said slowly. “Which is why we have to tread carefully here. If there is any validity to what she’s saying, we need to be prepared.”

“Then who is this dark man?” I asked.

And they hesitated.

They didn’t want me to see it. I almost didn’t see it. It was a split-second thing, a darting glance shared between the two of them that anyone else would have missed. But I knew them. I knew Morgan. I had spent years by his side, studying under him and studying him. I knew when he would withhold the truth, for the most part. I knew that he tried not to lie to me, even if he felt it was for my own good. Secrets between a wizard and his charge were far and few between, and never if it meant one or the other would be in danger.

So I knew when he opened his mouth to respond that whatever came out would be a lie.

“We can’t be sure,” Morgan said. “He could be some nameless Dark rising through the ranks, as we’ve said.”

“Or an outsider who has somehow taken control,” Randall said.

“An outsider,” I repeated. “You think an outsider will gather the Darks and they would willingly follow.”

They looked relieved at the thought that I had swallowed it hook, line, and sinker. I was almost insulted at how na?ve they thought me to be. “We need to explore every possibility,” Randall said. And then he frowned. “Isn’t there still a Dark or two in the dungeon that haven’t been sent out to the prisons yet?”

“Wan,” Morgan said thoughtfully. “Wan the Dark Hunter. He’s still here. Interrogating him didn’t get much information after the attack on Castle Lockes. He was to be transported at the end of the year. I suppose another attempt could be made. To find out what he knows.”

“I suppose I could—”

“No,” I said. “I don’t think you will.”

They paused.

“What was that, boy?” Randall asked, cocking an eyebrow.

“You’ve tried already,” I said. “Nothing came from it. Maybe it’s better to go into it with a fresh pair of eyes.”

“Really,” Randall said. “And just who do you suggest we use as a fresh pair of eyes?”




“WAN, IS it?” Gary asked. “Wan the Dark Hunter?”

“Yes,” Wan said, sitting back in his chair, shackles rustling on his arms and legs.

“Can I just call you Wan?”

“I suppose.”

“Good. Can I get you anything? A cup of water? A hot towel?”

“Really,” Randall said. “This was your plan.”

“Admittedly, it might have sounded better in my head,” I said.

We stood outside the interrogation room, watching through an enchanted window where we could see in but the occupants of the room couldn’t see out. Wan the Dark Hunter, handsome fellow that he was, was chained to a thick wooden chair, a small table separating him and his interrogators.

And what fearsome interrogators they were! Even I was suitably impressed, and everyone knew it took a lot to impress me. Tiggy stood near the back of the room, slightly hunched over so his head didn’t hit the ceiling, massive arms crossed over his considerable chest. He was frowning, and even though I knew it meant he was concentrating on the task at hand, to most everyone else, it looked as if he was contemplating the best way to proceed with a murderous rampage.

Gary, for his part, had decided that the best interrogating ensemble included having his hooves painted a deep purple, with matching streaks through his mane. His eyelashes looked impossibly long, fluttering in a lovely manner every time he blinked. He had a black scarf tied around his neck, black eyeliner under his eyes, and black silk woven through his tail. “I’m a Gothic princess,” he’d whispered to me as we’d made our way down to the dungeon. “He’ll cave in seconds. And it’s also my look of mourning for my relationship with your step-dragon-father. That bastard. I hope he’s suffering.”

I hadn’t even bothered to respond to any of that. I’d learned a long time ago that it’s best never to question a unicorn, given that it usually ended in sparkles or threats of Gore City up in here.

Wan didn’t look intimidated. If anything, he was coolly amused, sitting back in the chair, legs spread out in front of him in a cocky fashion. I wondered if Gary was going to murder him before the day was out. Anything seemed possible.

“Are you comfortable?” Gary asked, voice sticky sweet. “A blanket, perhaps.”

“I’m good,” Wan said, reaching up to stroke the goatee on his face like a smarmy villain. Given that he was a smarmy villain, I wasn’t surprised. I still hadn’t forgiven him for interrupting Ryan’s confession of eternal love to my face and soul on the day the Darks had attempted foolishly to attack Castle Lockes. I had advocated to have him tarred and feathered, but then Ryan had given me this really great fingerblast and I forgot all about it.

Until now.

“His skin should be melted from his bones,” I grumbled to no one in particular.

“Oh boy,” Ryan said, standing at my side, shoulders brushing mine. “Here we go again. Do I need to do that one thing?”

“He’s talking about sexing me up,” I said to Randall and Morgan. “In case you didn’t know.”