Darcy picked up a metal sculpture of a strange fae creature with a horse’s forequarters and the tail of a fish. Jack’s quarters had several of these, with mosaics on the wall similar to those he had seen in the Dark Peak Nest. Not the sort of thing he would have expected Jack to like. The room was bare of anything that indicated his brother’s personality. Two battered books lay on the table beside the bed. Darcy flipped through them: a history of France and a tome on metallurgy, both in French. Jack’s tastes usually ran more to travel guides and novels.
Had Jack been brought here with nothing but the clothes on his back? That would account for the lack of personal touches.
It had been nearly an hour since Jack had left him here while he sought information about the Gate. They had tried doing it together, but the first dragon they found flatly refused to speak in front of an unknown mortal, so his brother decided to try on his own.
Finally Jack appeared, pushing aside the blanket that hung over the entryway. Apparently dragons had little sense of privacy, so Jack must have improvised. He did not look pleased.
“What did you learn?” Darcy asked.
His brother scowled. “Nothing. They are all too busy making plans to protect the Nest. When I pressed, the Eldest suggested you travel by land instead.”
“If it were that simple, I would have done so months ago!” Darcy said explosively. Dammit, if that was the best the dragons could offer, he would have been better off staying with Mme. Hartung and hoping to reach Prussia eventually.
If it were just a matter of delay, he could tolerate it for himself, but Elizabeth must be frantic. “Could I at least send a message through the Gate to reassure my wife that she is not a widow? My wife believes I am still a prisoner of the French, if not dead.”
“I assume so, if your Nest will deliver it to her.” Jack reached into a small desk and pulled out paper from a drawer. “You can use this. See how the dragons spoil me? They sent out one of their Kith specifically to get this for me. Not that I can write to anyone, but keeping a journal helps preserve my sanity in this place.”
“Thank you.” Darcy sat at the desk.
Jack winced. “I have obviously been here too long. Even hearing thanks makes me edgy. Speaking English tastes strange in my mouth. I even dream in French these days. Still, it is far better than one of Napoleon’s prisoner camps, which would likely have been my fate otherwise.” He looked thoughtful for a moment. “Write your letter, and I will go talk to Coquelicot, the healer you met. I doubt she knows much about the Gate, but she usually makes time for me.”
Darcy nodded as he took up the well-sharpened quill and dipped it in the inkwell. “Good luck.”
As the blanket swished behind Jack, Darcy wrote in a shaky but legible hand, “My dearest Elizabeth…”
Jack returned with the news that the healer dragon wished to see Darcy. When the two brothers arrived, Coquelicot asked, “How is that arm?”
“A little sore, which is hardly surprising, since I did not use it for so long. But it works, which is all I ask.” Even if it was a long way from his usual strength.
“Ah, good. Now, the Little One has been telling me about your other problem. Is it true you cannot return to your home any other way?”
“Not without risking my life.”
She tilted her head. “I do not know why the Gate refused you, nor why you would lack enough dragon blood when it allowed the Little One through. Still, there may be a way around it. You could attempt tocreate the lesser bond with one of us. Then the Gate should see you as a companion and allow you through.”
His experiences to date with dragon magic did not warm him to the concept. “What is the lesser bond?” he asked with reluctance.
“It is similar to the companion bond, but temporary and with no sharing of Talent. We use it when a dragon with no companion wishes to take a short journey. With the lesser bond, they can travel away from the Nest with a human, as long as they return promptly.”
Roderick had done something like that when the dragons set the wards at Pemberley, though the Welshman was far more comfortable with bonds than Darcy would ever be. But getting home to Elizabeth would be worth it. “What would I need to do?”
She stared at the floor for a long moment, her talons clicking together. Finally she said, “With a young dragon, it is a simple matter, only requiring a little of your blood. But all our youngsters are trying to bond elsewhere to escape the upcoming battle. No, I will do it myself, but with great care, for my blood is too strong for a mortal body. There are reasons why only young dragons take companions; when they are older, the blood bond would destroy a mortal’s mind, if not kill him outright.” Her aura settled into one of determination.
Blood. Of course it had to involve a blood bond. “Can you do that?”
“I believe so, yes.” Another thoughtful pause. “I will need time to make a tincture for the lesser bond. A few days, perhaps. Are you willing?”
For any other dragon, he would have hesitated, if not outright refused, to do blood magic. But she had healed him and given him the use of his arm again. “Will it harm me?”
“No more than any other bloodletting. When you take the tincture, it may make you queasy, or perhaps give you excess energy.”
It would let him return to Elizabeth. He would be with her at Pemberley when their child was born. That was worth the risk. “I am willing and grateful for your assistance.”
“Come, then. Little One, will you help with bleeding him?” She produced a silver knife and a small basin from nowhere.
“Just tell me what to do,” Jack said.
Chapter 37
