Breath (Scales 'n' Spells 2)

Baldewin was not oblivious to the amount of trust Tori displayed to allow this. As much as he feared flying, he trusted Baldewin completely to not drop him. And it gave Baldewin and his dragon a deep, smug satisfaction to see that trust so openly displayed.

It was a long flight, done high above the earth, and it felt good to stretch his wings again. It felt even better to do so surrounded by a thunder of dragons, both fire and ice dragons alike—and one wind dragon, of course, as Ravi came with them. They had not flown like this in centuries, and Baldewin felt nostalgic for times gone by.

The only other thing that tugged at Baldewin’s heart was that he was not the one carrying Alric. Since his friend’s injury during the war, Alric had lost the ability to fly in his dragon form. When necessary, Alric had always ridden on Baldewin’s back. While Baldewin was powerful enough to handle both Alric and Tori, they’d both agreed it was better if Baldewin was focused only on Tori during the flight.

For this trip, Alric had elected to ride with Gunter, while Cameron was with Ravi. The wind dragon had promised to be on his best behavior, and while he might like to stir up trouble, he would never knowingly do anything to put Cameron’s life in danger.

Cassie, clever woman she was, had made all their travel arrangements ahead of time. They landed outside a town called Fjordgården, which was technically in Norway, but it was the closest town to Nuorgam that offered accommodations without being in the clan’s territory. She had somehow wrangled three SUVs, as well, to carry all twelve of them to the Taavi Clan. Her skills with a computer bordered on magic all by itself.

They checked into the hotel and stashed their luggage, since none of them anticipated staying with the Taavi Clan tonight. Or anytime soon, really.

Baldewin carried Tori into the second SUV, which held Thiago and Evora in the front seat. Both kings, Cameron, and two of Rodrigo’s bodyguards were in another. The third SUV, bringing up the rear, held Gunter, Ravi, and Rodrigo’s third bodyguard.

Baldewin kept Tori snugly against his side as they started off, the vibration of the engine clearly felt as Thiago started it up. The roads were a trifle rough—no doubt because the pavement couldn’t hold up to the extreme colds of the region—and the bumpy quality of the ride eventually woke Tori from the sleeping spell he’d been under.

He came awake with a sigh, stretching against Baldewin’s chest, his hand traveling upwards for a moment before naturally coming to rest against the top of his shoulder.

Turning his head, he kissed the bridge of Tori’s nose, loving how adorable he was. “Are you awake?”

“Hmm, apparently.” Tori blinked, head coming properly up to take a look about. The apprehension flashed across his face like an incoming tidal wave, immediate once he recognized his location. “We’re nearly there.”

Baldewin hated that look. Hated it with every fiber of his being. No one should hate and fear coming home like this. “We’re close, yes.” He cupped Tori’s face and drew it up, doing his best to convey the importance of his words. “Remember, you are no longer a Taavi. You are a Burkhard. This is not your home, and they have no power over you.”

For a moment, the apprehension faded a little. “I know.”

From the front seat, Evora pitched in, “Which means feel free to tell them to go to hell.”

Tori snorted, casting her an amused look. “I thought this was a diplomatic mission?”

“That’s if things go well,” Baldewin replied with a hint of a smile. “But trust me, Tori, if things go bad, Alric will be the first to say fuck it and walk out. Our king’s patient as the day is long, but he’s a fire dragon, too.”

“And I assure you, Rodrigo won’t take it well if they dare to insult you,” Evora promised. She turned in the seat to look at him. She didn’t seem to think it at all odd that Tori stayed cuddled in against Baldewin. “The Accords are quite clear. Why your clan decided to ignore them so soundly is beyond me.”

Tori’s bewilderment was palpable. “I’m sorry, the what?”

Evora blinked at him, a slow, lazy blink, like a predator spying prey. “You do not know what the Accords are?”

“Uh. No?”

Oh dear. Baldewin winced. The Accords were a basic thing that all mages should know. It wasn’t just history but a way of governing magic and mages.

Evora’s expression turned even stonier and colder. She readily explained, however, words clipped, “The Accords were set in times so ancient we have no record of who created them. They set the standard of what magic use is appropriate, of what is not. Of how a mage is deemed worthy of the title and what they must know to craft magic. It was a universal law established for all clans, all families. That you do not know of it is worrying in the extreme.”