Ravel shrugged. "For now? Nothing. You just go about your leave as planned and enjoy time with your family. Let whoever's watching think you're unaware. I hope the three of you are good actors and won't make me regret sharing this with you. I wasn't supposed to."
"Then why did you?" I asked.
"Because you guessed it, and to keep denying it would have been lying, which I prefer to avoid whenever possible. Besides, I believe that we are stronger when we work as a team."
More so than he was aware of, but I didn't know when and how to tell him that he might be part of the prophesied seven who were supposed to save Aurorys.
It suddenly occurred to me that Saphir might have misinterpreted the prophecy, and we were not going to save Aurorys by finding the lost shamans and the eggs they had saved, but by uncovering a dragon coup.
Dragons weren't bound by the Precepts of Truth, and being intelligent, they could easily lie and deceive.
I didn't even know what their code of conduct was, or if they had any at all, other than not to eat Elucians because of the pact.
Lifting my jug once again, I took a sip, but the ale tasted bitter on my tongue. The Dragon Force I'd believed in, the unified, incorruptible, defensive shield protecting Elucia, might be rotting from within.
"Perhaps you can help us find out more about the dragons' inner politics." Ravel fixed his piercing dark eyes on mine. "Your abilities make you particularly suitable for that."
Dylon’s eyes widened, but he said nothing.
I had told him the things I was allowed to share with my family, like the tea I had been drinking to boost my ability, but there were still many details he didn’t know and was smart enough not to ask about. For years, he had kept secrets from me, as well as from the rest of our family, not by choice but because that was the code of conduct he had been following.
"You want me to spy on them?" I frowned. "I don't think I can. Not yet anyway."
"I'm aware of that, and until you get stronger, I just want you to be aware that some of them might not be as friendly as you think and to be very careful about what you allow them to see in your mind." He pinned me with his dark stare. "And since you spend your nights occupying the minds of nocturnal animals, you might stumble into the mind of a dragon."
I shivered. "I hope that doesn't happen. It's mostly small critters that allow me access to their consciousnesses. I doubt I can take over a human or dragon mind."
"You reached out to multiple dragons and entered their minds to deliver a message," Ravel said. "That was the first step."
I wasn't sure he was right. Communicating with dragons and taking over a part of their mind so I could see through their eyes and hear through their ears wasn't the same. Still, I wouldn't know unless I tried. If I planned ahead and remembered to do it while dreaming, I might surprise myself.
"I'll try, but I don't expect success."
I had to start drinking the tea again as soon as I returned to the Citadel, and I wasn't looking forward to it. I was still exhausted physically and depleted mentally from the Podana dream, but I didn't want to admit it to Commander Ravel, so I kept it to myself.
Alar knew, of course, and I expected him to object to me resuming the nightly ritual of tea drinking, but now that I was driven by curiosity in addition to obligation, I had to do it.
As the main door opened, and a man walked in, wearing a long, heavy coat that seemed far too heavy for the mild evening, my senses prickled with alarm. He had a large backpack strapped to his back, and he stopped just inside the doorway, as if letting his eyes adjust to the dim light, but his gaze swept the room with more intention than the exaggerated look of boredom he was trying to portray suggested.
I glanced at Ravel to see if he had noticed the guy, but even though his expression was still neutral, he gave an almost imperceptible nod as if confirming that he was seeing what I saw and was bothered by it. Then he shifted his gaze to the group of men sitting by the entry, and something passed between him and the one with the bushy beard.
What happened next was so fast that I almost missed it. The bearded man lunged to his feet, yelling at the other three, and the table erupted into a brawl. Stools flipped, ale jugs crashing to the floor, but instead of grappling with each other, the four men threw themselves at the newcomer.
Two more men from the next table over moved with lightning speed, joining the fray and grabbing the suspect's arms before he could reach into his pockets. In one fluid motion, they stripped the backpack from him and hurled him bodily through the door. The bearded man swung the backpack in a wide arc, launching it after the stranger.
Sometime during the action, Ravel had gotten to his feet with his gun drawn, and Alar and Dylon reacted just as quickly, both moving to shield me behind them.
"Stay down," Dylon hissed, pressing me lower on the bench. "Get under the table."
Through the open door, I could see the suspect being handcuffed and searched. One of Ravel's men held up something small that I couldn't identify from that far away.
"A detonator," Ravel hissed. "Everyone out through the kitchen!" He commanded. "Move! Now!"
Since the perpetrator had been apprehended and disarmed, I didn't understand why we had to run off, but I knew better than to question the commander.
We scrambled from the booth, Alar and Dylon keeping me sandwiched between them as we rushed toward the kitchen door. Behind us, people were shouting warnings about a bomb about to explode.
We'd barely made it through to the kitchen door when it did.
