Light My Fire (Dragon Kin #7)(56)

As soon as Celyn entered, he became even more worried about his old friend. It didn’t smell right. Nothing smelled right.

Celyn moved deeper into the cave and, as he did, he saw books tossed around, some burned. He remembered, quite clearly, Costentyn and Celyn’s father arguing about how Bram treated his books. Celyn’s father piled those books into the corners of his home. Haphazard with an organizational logic that only Bram and his assistants seemed to understand. Celyn remembered how offended Old Costentyn had been. Books, to him, were to be treated with reverence and placed on shelves in a logical order so that anyone at any time could come in and pick up a book for their reading pleasure. Bram, however, saw books as a means to an end. That end being knowledge.

So finding Costentyn’s books lying around . . .

Celyn rushed forward, determined to find his friend. He used his logic to guide him more than his senses. And logic suggested that Costentyn would try to get to an exit. Any exit that would allow him to fly away.

After several long minutes Celyn stopped running. He bowed his head and curled his hands into fists. After a breath, he took a step forward just as Elina ran up behind him. He walked into the alcove, dropped to his human knees, and carefully placed his hand on the head of his murdered friend.

Elina watched the dragon mourn his friend.

It was obvious this was an old dragon. So old, even his brown scales were mostly grey. She could see bits of brown underneath but it was hard to tell. And, of course, the blood didn’t help.

It hadn’t been a fair fight. Instead, the old dragon had been pinned down by nets that were then tacked to the ground and, while he probably fought his bindings, he was repeatedly stabbed with long spears and hacked at with axes. It must have taken hours for the dragon to die. Hours while the weak men hacked at his hard scales and stabbed at any weak spots he had.

Finally, Elina turned her head in disgust.

This was why men could not rule. What was the point of killing this dragon? He was old. Probably didn’t leave his home much. And based on all the books she saw throughout the cave, she would guess that all he did was read. This was not some great warrior one could defeat with any pride. But Elina knew Southlander men well enough to know they would be crowing about this victory until the end of their time. They would never see the shame in what they’d done.

The dragon suddenly leaned over and picked up two human-sized, bound books. He flipped one open, nodded.

“Costentyn’s journals,” he said softly, tucking them into his travel bag. “Perhaps they can tell us something.”

Elina heard a sound and turned her head, raising one finger to silence the dragon. Her nostrils flared at the smell of human sweat. When she looked back at Celyn, he was watching her.

“Where?” he demanded.

She wasn’t sure, so she silently made her way down a long corridor, using her nose and female instincts to lead her.

Eventually she found them. In a place that explained everything.

Elina crouched down and picked up a gold coin. It wasn’t the dragon they had wanted. It was the dragon’s hoard. Even now, they were hurriedly taking piles of gold and jewels out through a hole in the cave wall. They were in a line as if trying to take water to a burning building. Buckets of riches being handed off from one male to another while they joked and laughed and bragged about how they’d killed an old being who’d been living his life quiet and alone in his cave.

“Baron Roscommon was right, eh, lads? We’ll be rich, all right, when we get our cut.”

“And imagine all the * we’ll get when they find out we slayed a dragon.”

“But Roscommon told the truth. We couldn’t let that dragon live among good people. He was a danger, that one. He had to die.”

“And now them dragons will know not to f*ck with us or our city.”

The men cheered at that while they kept working, nothing deterring them from getting their gold.

Elina stood, the gold coin still in her hand, but as she turned to hand it off to Celyn, she realized that he’d silently shifted to his natural form and was now towering over her. He silently stood in that entryway, nearly filling it.

The weight of her quiver and bow rested against her back, and she felt comfort from them. Because she sensed that she would need them. She wouldn’t say that she could read his dragon face. At least not yet. But like most beings of the world, what Celyn’s face wouldn’t tell you, his energy would.

His black gaze was fixed on the humans, who, so busy bragging, had yet to notice them. The dragon nodded his horned head.

Reaching back, Elina placed one hand on the wood of her bow. She held out her other hand with the gold coin sitting in her palm. Slowly, she turned that hand over, so the coin fell from her palm and made a soft plunk sound against all the other gold coins.

There was immediate silence in that cave. All that self-important chatter stopped, human bodies tensing.

Elina was fascinated, but she didn’t wait to see any more. She silently and swiftly eased back and found her way to another exit.

Celyn wasn’t surprised when Elina made her hasty escape. What human wanted to watch what he was about to do?

Celyn? His father’s voice popped into his head after Celyn sent out the call. What’s wrong, son?

It’s Costentyn, Da. He’s been killed by humans.

There was a long pause, but his father was merely thinking. He was not a quick reactor. It was why Celyn had contacted him and not his mother. Before he could even have finished a thought, Ghleanna would have been flying to him in a Cadwaladr rage. Although effective, it was not what Celyn thought was needed right now.