Chapter 11
I am quite glad that Devon isn’t waiting for me. There is no way he will accept anything less than Liv’s death. Somehow, I will have to try and explain it to him and ensure that I see it through. If the information she has given me is completely useless, then I shall be returning to her sooner than either one of us would like. For now, I need to speak to my father. See if he has any information to add. Although, I doubt he will, or he would have mentioned it by now.
Or would he?
Time to find out.
I march to his tower and make my way loudly up the stairs so that he knows I am coming, and I bang loudly on the door.
“Aeval,” he says to me as he opens the door, and then just stares at me.
I look down at myself with a frown and then cringe. Not only do I still look like Aefre, I am also still dressed in jeans and a top. However, before I Shift, it occurs to me that I have been walking around the D.F.K. since I returned with Delinda looking exactly like myself. I hadn’t even paid attention to it. I am guessing that, seeing as my daughter looks exactly like me, I am now deemed acceptable to look at in my natural form. I do change my clothes quickly, though, and meet with Drake’s approval.
“Come in,” he says.
“Thanks. Sorry to keep barging in unannounced, but I have something quite serious to discuss with you,” I say.
“Is Delinda with you?” Maurelle asks from over by the sofa where she is lounging in her nightgown and robe. She looks even more the worse for wear than when I saw her last night.
“No, sorry. This is business,” I reply, and she looks disappointed, but slides over so that Drake can sit himself down next to her. He takes her hand lightly and gestures for me to sit in the chair opposite them.
I do and then I start. “I have had some information on how to kill my mother,” I say, straight to the point. “I need to verify it first.”
Drake and Maurelle exchange a puzzled look and then Drake looks questioningly at me. “She cannot be killed,” he says.
“Yes, She can,” I respond. “There are two Other Worlds, that I know of, where She has died and the Other versions of me have become Empress of the Dragon Realms. I have been to one of them today to find out how.”
Maurelle leans forward while Drake remains completely still. “How?” she asks me.
“There is a sword,” I say. “And this is where the information goes a little dodgy. Apparently, it is Saint George’s sword.”
I wait for the laughter to commence, but it doesn’t come. Maurelle licks her lips and looks all too eager to hear more–not that I blame her–she probably wants Her dead more than I do. Drake on the other hand looks slightly pale.
“Who is Saint George?” he asks.
I blink at him in surprise, but there again, why would he know? That is a tale told on Earth. That kind of bums me out–a lot. If there were a legend of how Tiamat could die, surely it would have been passed on somehow, somewhere along the line.
“He supposedly killed a Dragon. It’s an Earth-thing,” I say, giving the short and sweet version.
“Hmm,” he says. “I wouldn’t put much stock in that.”
“Well, I don’t know,” I say, fiddling with my rings. “I have to see if such a thing exists before I dismiss it completely.”
“Agreed,” Maurelle says. Drake gives her a dark look, but she shrugs it off. “You have to do whatever you can to protect your family,” she says.
Clearly Drake isn’t on board with me trying to kill Tiamat, and the more he sits there in silence, the angrier Maurelle is getting. Not that she says anything, but I can see it by her sour expression.
He clears his throat as I give him a pointed look. He finally says, “Very well, you should look into it. Do you know where to start?”
“Well, I had thought if such a sword exists it would be in my armory, but it isn’t there,” I say with a frown. I have already searched for it while we have been sitting here, to no avail.
“Your armory?” Drake asks.
I wave my hands out to the sides. “I have a virtual armory,” I explain. “Every weapon forged, blah, blah, blah…”
“You have access to a cache of weapons just like that?” he asks incredulously, snapping his fingers. “Why did you never mention this before?”
“It never came up,” I say, slightly flustered.