“We can’t do that, Kaitlyn—it would cause a riot,” I explained patiently.
“But what’s going to happen when they find out it’s not true?” she demanded. “When they’re disappointed because I’m not going to be the mother of a new race of Drakes? What then, Ari?”
I wasn’t sure, to tell the truth, but I knew I couldn’t publicly go against the word of the Blind Crone. She had a unique status among our people and was both revered and feared for her unfailing accuracy.
Of all times for her to be wrong, I thought. This has to be the worst!
But there was nothing we could do about it now but try to dodge the consequences until the whole thing blew over.
If it ever did.
“We’ll think of something,” I told Kaitlyn. “And whatever else happens, my Drake and I will keep you safe.”
I only prayed to the Goddess I could keep my word to her—I would rather die myself than see any harm come to my L’lorna. Within me, my Drake roared agreement.
No matter what happened, we must protect her.
89
Kaitlyn
Ari stayed with me for quite a long time but then Jalli and Saint came to the door saying that he was wanted in a conference with his father and mother. I was very pointedly not invited but Saint said he would stay with me when Ari was reluctant to leave me. Jalli went with her big brother, which left me alone with his dark cousin pacing in front of the door like a guard doing sentry duty.
“So I heard you stirred up more trouble,” he remarked sardonically, after Ari and Jalli had left.
“No, I didn’t!” I denied at once. “It was that old lady—the Blind Crone. She was the one who made the trouble by claiming I have a Drake inside me.”
“Do you?” He raised an eyebrow at me, as though it was a real possibility.
“Of course not!” I exclaimed impatiently. “How could such a thing even be possible?”
He shrugged. “Stranger things have happened. How did men and dragons merge in the first place to become Drakes?”
“Well, I didn’t merge with anybody,” I told him. “I don’t know why that woman said what she did.”
“Whatever the reason for the prophecy, speaking it seems to have killed her,” he pointed out. “Which unfortunately doesn’t allow anyone to question her word or ask why she would make such a claim on your behalf in the first place.”
“I don’t know what to do.” I sat down on the bed and put my head in my hands. “I never wanted this—any of this.” I made a motion, indicating the whole of the Sky Lands. “I mean the power of being a Drake’s L’lorna or becoming queen someday—that all seems crazy to me. I only wanted Ari and his Drake—that’s all.”
Saint laughed bitterly.
“Don’t you know, L’lorna of my cousin, that having a Drake—in whatever capacity you have him—never comes without complications?”
“Are you talking about your own Drake?” I asked, glad to get off the subject of my own crazy situation. “Having him is complicated?”
“Being tied to a Blood Drake? Hell yes, it’s complicated.” He raked a hand through his thick black hair, the black and red scales on the back of his arm glinting in the golden lamp light with the motion.
“Because it’s considered bad luck?” I asked timidly. That seemed to be the prevailing superstition about anything out of the ordinary here in the Sky Lands. Born with a birth defect? You’ll cause bad luck. Disfigured by some horrible accident? Again, bad luck. Anything strange or unusual about you at all? Bad luck.
But Saint only shrugged.
“That’s only part of it. You’re not the only one with a prophecy about you, you know.”
“What? Did the Blind Crone say something about you too?” I asked excitedly.
Saint shook his head. “Not her. But someone who matters did. Look, I’d rather not talk about it, if you don’t mind.”
“Well I don’t want to talk about my situation either,” I pointed out. “But you know all about it, even though you weren’t in the Feasting Hall.”
He nodded.
“Yes, I try to make myself scarce at public banquets and the like. Especially happy occasions like ones to welcome the Alpha-to-be’s new L’lorna. I don’t want to cast a pall over the celebration by tainting it with my presence.”
I didn’t think that he could have done much worse than the Blind Crone, who had shouted a totally untrue prophecy about me and then capped it off by dying dramatically in the middle of the floor. I mean, don’t get me wrong—I was sorry she was dead. But dead or not, it really seemed like she could have been more careful with her predictions.
“Well, the ‘festivities’ weren’t very festive anyway,” I told Saint. “I don’t think anyone liked the idea of me being Ari’s L’lorna. I know Pedro Sanchez’s mother didn’t. She absolutely hates me.”