Rasnake(11)

"So you don't know why the wards fell?" Tallant asked.

Cecil shook his head. "No. Only a portion fell, thankfully, but the hole has been slowly widening. We're afraid the whole fucking thing will come down in one go, at some point."

Tallant frowned. "Could I see the place where it collapsed?"

"Later," Cecil said tersely. "It will be dark soon, and no one is allowed outside the castle after dark. Once we raise the drawbridge, that's it until morning. We need to use what daylight remains to be certain the dragons are gone, and to see if we can puzzle out anything about the missing girls."

Milton nodded. "Tell us more about that."

"It will have to wait until dinner," Cecil replied. "If you really must insert yourself, you can hear the whole damned tale then."

Turning sharply around, he drew a long dagger from his boot. It wasn't made of steel, though. It was made of bone. "Dragon bone. How the hell did you get dragon bone?"

"Luck," Cecil said over his shoulder. Moving to the beasts guts, he thrust the dagger through the dragon's hide and cut a long slash down it, then moved down a couple of steps and repeated the process—then cut a long strip to connect the two gashes, and stepped out of the way as blood and innards came pouring out of the flap he'd just created. He whistled, and the wolves came running up to bury their snouts in the mess, feasting with relish.

Leaving them to it, Cecil moved to the dragons throat and slit it open from the corner of the dragon's mouth all the way day, essentially opening up its throat. Digging into the filthy mess, hacking bits away as necessary, he worked until at last he came up with his hand fisted round something. Smirking briefly in triumph, he wrapped the bloody lump in cloth, then stowed it away in a pouch at his waist. He pulled out still another cloth and wiped away blood and gore. He smiled grimly at Tallant and Milton. "Shall we go home?"

Milton looked heartbroken, a little lost, as he stared at Cecil. But all he said was, "Yeah. Let's go home."

Cecil strode off, leaving them to follow. Tallant moved to go after him, but Milton grabbed his forearm, forcing him to halt. Damn it. What with the dragon, he'd completely forgotten the matter of Cecil and fate and Milton not being even remotely pleased. "What?"

"Look—I'm sorry. I should have been happy for you, not resentful that you might get along better with my brother than me." He seemed to wilt. "I never imagined for a second he'd come to hate me. But whatever is between me and my brother has nothing to do with you. If he is your precious fate that you've been waiting so long for, then I'm happy for both of you."

Tallant smiled, every knot in him easing. "Thanks. I don't know what my fate is, really. But wolves appeared when you and I met. It can't be coincidence that your brother has two wolves. I could just be getting carried away, though."

Milton rolled his eyes. "So, what, first you're all 'he's the one' and now you're saying my brother isn't good enough for you?" He punched Tallant lightly. "Make up your mind, elf."

"Shut up," Tallant replied, and strode off. "If he is my fate, then I think I have my work cut out for me."

Milton snorted as he caught up. "Man, if it was anyone but my little brother, I'd say he just needs to get laid."

"I could definitely test that theory—"

"Stop it!" Milton hastily interjected, but with a smile teasing at his lips

They found Cecil waiting impatiently for them at the edge of the forest. "Are you two always this damned slow? There are other things which need doing."

"Rushing about wasting energy doesn't help anything," Tallant said. "I swear, I could have pegged you two as brothers even if I hadn't already known it. You're both so flik it's ridiculous. Only the fact you're pretty and that there are more enjoyable ways to use that energy keeps people from killing you."

To his astonishment, Cecil turned bright red, then turned around and all but ran back to the castle. Milton's brows rose. "What was that about, do you suppose? Is he mad you compared him to me, or embarrassed you called him pretty and fuckable?" He shook his head, "He'd better get used to it. You say that shit to me all the damned time."

"A little of both, I think," Tallant replied, thinking of earlier, when he'd grabbed Cecil and they'd slammed together. How obvious and unschooled Cecil's reactions had been. Maybe being Rasnake kept a man too busy to enjoy certain pleasures.

Given Cecil was married, though, and to a future duchess… "He wasn't wearing a ring," Tallant said suddenly, as the realization struck him. "He's married to Irene, but he doesn't wear a ring or let anyone call him 'Your Grace'. I'm also curious about that apple tree tattooed on his arm."

Milton's face twisted. "I'm curious about a lot of things. I just want to know what happened to him. Damn it, if I hadn't left—"

"You or he would be dead," Tallant said. "You may not believe in fate, but it seems to me that a great many threads are beginning to show the pattern they've been weaving. Or would you prefer never to have left, never to have traveled, never to have met me, sworn brother?"

Milton immediately shook his head. "No, you're right. I don't know about fate, but I'm not sorry for the experiences my life has brought me. I'm definitely happy I met you. He flexed the arm that bore his battle-bond tattoo. "I still can't believe you offered this to me."