That thought made Valentine a little sad. He sometimes forgot he had her for so much longer than the others.
"Nuada was a king of the Tuatha Dé Dannan. I believe he is some ancestor of the family, but I don't know where, and the stories can't be trusted," he explained and sat on the wooden stool by his work counter. "The myth goes that Nuada lost his hand in battle, and a physician mage called Dian Cécht made him a fully functional prosthetic out of silver. Yelena needs to be able to channel her magic, and I thought making her something like the original Silver Hand would help her do that."
"That's really kind of you, Val," Reeve said softly.
Valentine shifted uncomfortably, forcing the heat to stay away from his face. "Yes, well, she needs to have a hand. It must be something that can work for her properly," he said gruffly.
Reeve smiled and looked back at the hand. "I take it you are somehow layering in spells as you go so that it can work functionally and not just be a pretty prosthetic like the original?" he asked curiously.
"It would be a waste of time if I didn't. She needs to be able to use it like a real hand. I'll have to tattoo a binding sigil on her armso that it can connect to her brain patterning and ensure her body doesn't reject it." Valentine stopped talking because he knew if he went any deeper, he would lose Reeve altogether. His brother's magic was unique, but what Valentine was planning, he wouldn't understand on a magical level.
Only Yelena would. Valentine wanted to get her thoughts and input when it was more complete. She had a way of seeing gaps in his spell work like no one else did.
"It's incredible. No wonder you have been working on it like a mad thing." Reeve gave him a careful look. "From the stories I've just heard from Emyr, you ate Yelena's other hand, so it seems right you make her another one."
Valentine sighed. "The dragon ate it, not me."
"You know it's the same thing. You ate a whole fucking guy, too," Reeve pressed. "I don't know how I should react to this."
"What do you want me to do? Deny it? I did eat the fucker. He was a shapeshifter. It was the only way to make sure he didn't escape."
Valentine didn't mention the fierce indigestion it gave him or how he suddenly suspected that if he put his mind to it, he might be capable of shifting into more than just a dragon because of it.
It was better not to voice those things before he confirmed them because he didn't want his family to worry about him more than they already did.
"It's still gross, man. I'm not going to judge it. It wasn't my hand. Yelena's response when she learned of it was that she wished she could have seen you do it, so I don't think she cares either way," Reeve replied. He gestured at the worktable. "Time to wrap this up. I was sent down here because Taranis wants a family dinner, and your presence has been requested."
Valentine screwed up his face. "Why? I did my part and found them."
"Because you're a part of the family. Also, Yelena and Avallach are going to be there. You are going to want to hear what they have to say."
Valentine growled. "What are you all thinking? She shouldn't be out of bed yet."
"She can make that choice for herself. Besides, Apollo sent her a potion, and she's been doing much better since she drank it."
"What fucking potion? What was in it?" Valentine demanded. They should have let him check it first for fuck’s sake.
Reeve only smiled like an asshole. "You will just have to come to dinner and ask her yourself, won't you?"
13
Valentine adjusted the lapels of his new jacket for the seventh time before adjusting the ties of his shirt.
After a few days of trying to deal with the fae in the mountain city, Valentine had bought clothes from one of the markets. The less human he appeared, the more the fae seemed to relax around him. He didn't mind the shirts that wrapped one panel over the other and tied at the side. Kian still preferred to wear that style of shirt too, so he knew how to wear them in a style that the fae did. The coats and pants were also leanly tailored in a way Valentine liked.
He could blend in and disappear when he walked through Mag Argatnél now, and he liked that most of all.
Valentine leaned closer to the mirror and checked his eyes. His dragon had been calm and quiet since they had gotten Yelena and Avallach back to safety, but his eyes had remained the color of blood. It was like the beast wanted to permanently remind him he wasn't going to be locked up again.
Something for him to worry about later. He brushed his hair back and went to find where everyone else had gathered.
In the end, all he had to do was follow the noise. Taranis and Quinn sat at the end of a large wooden dining table with the knights, Reeve, Charlotte, and Yelena on either side of it.
"Ah, there he is at last," Owain called.
Valentine took the seat opposite Yelena. "I had forge grime to get rid of," he said and dared to look across at Yelena and Avallach. "Should you two be out of bed?"
Avallach shrugged and then winced. "Can't keep a dragon down for long. Charlotte and the healers have done their work well."
