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than material.”
    “I wouldn’t take the love token that Baltic made for you,” he said, outrage flitting through his eyes before he added with a grin, “He almost severed his fingers engraving it.”
    “He told me it was the hardest thing he’d ever done because he doesn’t have a single artistic bone in his body,” I said, sharing a remembered moment with Kostya, my smile matching his. “He was so proud of it, though.”
    The smile faded from Kostya’s face. “You have nothing with which to bargain, then? So be it.” He held up a dismissive hand when I opened my mouth to protest his cavalier manner. “I have relinquished my rightful claim on Dauva; that is as far as I will bend, Ysolde. The matter is settled, as is the situation with Cyrene. I have called next week’s sárkány for the purpose of rescinding my statement regarding her, so after that time, she will have no formal standing either in my sept or the weyr.”
    “Kostya, you know how much that house means to me-” I started to say, getting to my feet, intending on pleading with him.
    He shot Drake a harried look, then made a formal bow to both Aisling and me. “I will see you later, Aisling. Good day, Ysolde.”
    I bit my lip as he strode off, damning him for being so obstinate. “Next time maybe I’ll save Baltic the trouble of breaking his nose and do it myself.”
    “It’s tempting sometimes, I admit,” Aisling said.
    Drake shot her a look.
    “Sorry, sweetie, but even you have to admit that sometimes when Kostya gets on his high horse, he’s impossible to take.”
    “And yet right is on his side in this,” Drake said, taking the glass of dragon’s blood wine that Aisling poured for him. “The house does belong to him.”
    “It does not-” I started to say.
    “Now, hang on here,” Aisling interrupted, suddenly looking thoughtful as she turned to me. “Ysolde, I think we’ve had a breakthrough.”
    “In what way?”
    “Who’s had a breakthrough?” May asked as she slipped into the room with a muttered apology for her twin’s scene.
    “Kostya.” Aisling eyed me speculatively.
    I frowned, confused. “I don’t see how.”
    “He offered to trade Dragonwood for something. He’s never done that before, has he?”
    “No,” I said slowly, thinking that point over. “He’s always been adamant that the house belongs to the black dragons, and as he’s the wyvern, it does. You know, I think you’re right, Aisling. I think this may well be the breakthrough I’ve been looking for.”
    “Yes, but now you need something to trade for it. I don’t suppose Baltic would give up Dauva?”
    I sighed. “The only things that stand higher than Dauva in Baltic’s affections are Brom, Pavel, and me. So no, trading Dauva for Dragonwood is out of the question. I need something else, something of great value that he would want. Hmm.”
    “I’d offer you the dragon shard that chose our sept, but ... well, I’m not sure that’s kosher, so to speak,” May said. “Not to mention that Gabriel wouldn’t let the shard go.”
    “No, I wouldn’t take your shard,” I said, smiling at May. The fact that she, too, had once borne the same shard of the dragon heart, most important relic of all dragonkin, that I had borne so many centuries ago, made me feel especially comfortable around May, as if we were old, old friends. “I can only imagine what the First Dragon would have to say about the idea of us using the shards to buy something so esoteric as a house.”
    “Jim, will you stop it?” Aisling frowned at the big black demon as it rubbed its nose on her hand. “If you need to go walkies, you are excused.”
    “Baltic doesn’t have any big stacks of gold lying around his lair?” May asked, looking as thoughtful as Aisling did. “Not that I’m trying to pry, but you know how dragons are about gold-I’d think that even Kostya could be swayed by it.”
    I glanced at Drake, who was watching Aisling with a glint in his eyes that