She winked at him. “Yes, but to have three days in a coach where I can pester Granny with all my questions? It is entirely my pleasure.”
Lady Amelia’s amused voice drifted from the carriage. “The King’s Mage may not recognize the apprentice I will return to her.”
The coachman shook his reins, and the carriage moved down the gravel drive, first slowly, and then picking up speed, in keeping with his instructions to make the ride as smooth as possible.
Elizabeth squeezed Darcy’s hand, although she could have released it now that Frederica was gone, taking the risk of repulsion with her. “It will seem quiet here with all of them away!” She did not sound displeased, though.
“I, for one, am looking forward to having you to myself.”
“And Georgiana, and Cerridwen, and your French tutors,” she teased.
He matched her tone. “Perhaps we should hide in the cottage in the oak grove. Let them all think we have left.” But she was right; there was still work to do, and Georgiana deserved some of his attention, too. While Elizabeth was by his side, he could tolerate anything. And he refused to think about how short a time they might still have together.
The reprieve was short-lived, though. Late that afternoon, as Elizabeth sat with Darcy in his study, Cerridwen returned in kestrel form, dropping a small pouch on her lap.
A gift of some sort? “What is this?” she asked the bird.
“You shall see,” Cerridwen chirped with a sense of great satisfaction.
Elizabeth laughed as she picked up the pouch. “A mystery, then. How was the Conclave?”
Cerridwen perched on the desk and danced from leg to leg. “Open it, and it will answer your questions.” How strange it was to hear her speak aloud in her kestrel form!
“Very well.” Elizabeth opened the pouch and took out a heavy, intricately engraved globe of silver.
As it touched her skin, an illusion rose from it, a glowing miniature dragon, and a voice resonated throughout the room. “I am the Eldest, the voice of the Nest. Companion Elizabeth, we seek information on recentevents. We request you to present yourself at the Nest that we may pool our knowledge. I particularly encourage you to bring your mate, whose insights would be much valued. He would be required to submit either to a blindfold or binding to avoid revealing the Nest’s location. I await your reply via your companion. I am the Eldest, the voice of the Nest.”
The illusory dragon vanished, leaving only a prickle of magic on Elizabeth’s skin and a heavy, inert ball in her hand. Astonishing!
In a strangled voice, Darcy said, “Dragons seem to have a truly remarkable supply of Artifacts.”
“We create them,” chirped Cerridwen. “The Eldest of this Nest is very skilled at it.”
“And is the voice of the Nest,” Elizabeth added, amused.
“That phrasing means this is a formal request of the highest priority. It was the decision of the Conclave to speak to you.” Cerridwen stretched her kestrel wings, flapped them a few times, and then looked around curiously. “Where is Sycamore? I cannot feel him.”
Oh, dear. Elizabeth hated to disappoint Cerridwen, especially when she was so pleased with the invitation to the Nest. “Granny and Sycamore left for London while you were in the Conclave.”
“London? Why would they go there?”
Elizabeth was still trying to come up with a way to explain it gently when Darcy spoke for her. “They went to speak to the government about dragons.”
The kestrel stilled. “But that violates the Covenant of Concealment.” Betrayal radiated off her.
“That was their intention,” Elizabeth said softly. “They chose to do it during the Conclave so the Nest could not stop them.” She would not lie to her dragon, not even for Granny.
“I must tell the Nest at once.” Cerridwen took wing and flew out the window.
Elizabeth looked after her, but there was nothing she could do to help. Instead she wrapped her arms around Darcy’s waist, drinking in the warmth and steadiness of his muscular form. What did he think of thisinvitation? He had seemed much calmer about dragons recently, but an invitation to walk straight into the lair of the Eldest, the most powerful dragon of the Nest, might give anyone pause. “I will go, but your attendance is up to you.”
Darcy frowned. “I dislike the idea of being blindfolded, but any further mental binding is out of the question. I have quite enough of that already.”
“I understand. I was blindfolded the first time I came near this Nest, and I cannot say I cared for the experience. The binding is actually much less trouble, and it is safer.”
He stiffened. “You think I cannot be trusted with the knowledge?”
She released him, picked up the sphere, and handed it to him. “Tell me, if the government knew of the existence of these Artifacts, how forcefully would they question you as to the location of the Nest? Or suppose the French capture you, and want to find our Nest to create more killer dragons who will ravage England? I feel safer knowing I cannot tell anyone.”
