How had his father managed?
All those long hours of study and training, and he’d completely missed the most important information.
The kids were exhausted by the time the estate where his grandfather lived appeared on the horizon. Corin told himself this was a good thing—it would be easier to slip away from them later. And fly back to Hideaway alone, along the long path paved with Maya’s unhappiness.
*That wasn’t so bad,*someone chirped.
*It was AWFUL,*another retorted.
*Well, it was terrible, but it wasn’t so bad.*
*The best approach is from the west,*Corin told them as they came up to the estate. The main house was in the north-eastern quadrant of the land, separated from the landing area by a small artificial forest.
*I’ve only ever come here by car before,*someone whispered, awed. *It looks so different from the air.*
*Are those scorch marks on the roof?*
*Why does the castle look like that? It’s like different pieces, all jumbled together.*
Corin’s dragon’s face wasn’t designed for frowning, but he was confused by the youngsters’ questions.
Didn’t they know?
*This used to be our family’s home,*he said. They all fell silent, listening intently. *It’s still the nearest property to our clan’s vault, in its secret location in the mountains.*
The younger dragons’ silence became sharper at the thought of all that gold.
*When my grandfather was young, the children of the clan were raised out here. It had been that way for generations, since our family first came to America. But we spent too long in the one place.*
He stretched out his wings, coasting on the breeze, at the edges of all the memories sunk deep into the Blackburn Estate. *There was a fire, and an altercation with another dragon clan, and the usual rough and tumble of young dragons learning their limits. For another clan, that wouldn’t have meant anything. But our duskfire doesn’t play nicely with damaged things. Even after they’ve been repaired.*
Blackburn Senior was waiting for them on the front steps of the great house.
He regarded the younger dragons with an imperious eye. “I have hidden a piece of my personal hoard somewhere on the estate,” he informed them. “If any of you find it before I finish my interview with Corin, it is yours to keep.”
The cousins scattered. Corin frowned as he watched them go. “Your personal hoard?” he asked his grandfather in an undertone.
“A mere bagatelle.” The old man shrugged. “Besides. I’ll have it back off whichever of them finds it by Christmas.” His eyes flashed dragon-sharp with anticipation. The youngsters were oldenough for the rule about children’s hoards not to apply, and he was old enough to enjoy making a game of it.
Corin’s own dragon narrowed its eyes in suspicion. “You knew we were coming.”
“Of course I did! What do you take me for? We may not be landed dragons, like the young king who’s staked his claim in Hideaway Cove, but I could hardly miss half a dozen of my own descendants descending upon my home like a hoard of hungry bees.”
Young king?Corin thought of Apollo, the golden dragon shifter without a hoard whose magic infused Hideaway Cove like fine liquor.
His grandfather was still watching him. Corin sighed. “And you know why we’re here.”
“Of course.” The old man put one hand on his shoulder. “Come along, hatchling. This is a matter for the library.”
The Blackburn library had been burned down twelve times, by generations of Blackburn males in various fits of pique. There were still scorch marks on some of the bookshelves, where each generation had given up re-sanding and oiling the wood.
The books themselves were mostly unharmed, largely due to the fact that in her first year as lady of the estate, Corin’s grandmother had declared that if any books were destroyed, she would replace them with brightly illustrated books about puberty, and the men would have to hold their important meetings surrounded by titles likeWhat’s Going on Down There?andSaying Hello to Auntie Flo!
Corin settled into a leather-upholstered armchair while his grandfather poured drinks. Whisky shone like rich amber in the crystal tumbler and burned pleasantly when he sipped it. “Do you miss her?”
His grandfather didn’t need to ask who. He looked around, his sharp eyes gentling as he took in the preserved library withits leather-bound tomes and comfy reading nooks. Even the ‘boozing corner’, as she’d called it, carried his grandmother’s touch. “Every day.”
Corin stared into his glass. His draconic instincts were pricking at him, like dozens of tiny claws stabbing into his shoulders, but he couldn’t be bothered paying attention to what they were trying to tell him.
