Urian dashed to Simi’s side, putting her between them. “Are you fireproof, Sim?”
“Bomb proof, too.” She belched and shot out a stream of fire that caused several dragons to scramble for cover. “See!”
“Ah, you bunch of hatchlings.” With his hands on his hips, Falcyn finished putting Maddor back into his body.
The moment the Crom was himself again, he picked up his whip and went straight to Brogan.
They all tensed in expectation of what he intended to do with her, especially Blaise.
Brogan held her hand up to let them know that it was all right. After a few seconds, she nodded. “Peace to you, Crom.”
With a curt jerk of his coat, he flashed himself onto the back of his horse and vanished.
“What did he say?” Blaise asked.
She smiled warmly. “That he never wants to be a dragon again. You can keep your smelly old body.”
Blaise snorted. “Can’t blame him there.”
Her eyes twinkling, she took his hand. “And he said he’d see about my list that I gave him. I’d hate to be Morgen right now.”
“Not too sure I want to be us.” Medea glanced around at the restless dragons, who were still eyeballing them a little too closely for her happiness.
Xyn held her hands out in an arc. “How long have we slept?”
“Centuries,” Blaise and Falcyn said simultaneously.
An unhappy murmur ran through them.
“Simi eat them now since they all grumbly?” Her wings twitched with expectation.
The dragons quieted immediately.
Medea laughed. “Nice to know you don’t just scare Daimons, Simi.”
Simi pressed her finger to her lips and cocked her head to an adorable expression. Yeah, that made no sense to Falcyn. How could such a lethal creature be so uncommonly charming? The dichotomy of the Goth demon had never failed to amaze or surprise him.
She scowled, then smiled at Medea. “The Simi knows you! I’s seens you lots and lots. You’re the evil princess who libs with the Simi’s akra in Kalosis!”
“She’s also my sister.”
Simi gasped at Urian’s words. Then caught herself. “Oh yeah. I should have… but wait. Your daddy is fake-akri.” She pressed her hands to her eyebrows. “The Simi is so confuseled!”
Urian laughed. “So am I most days.”
Sobering, he gently pulled one of her hands down until she opened her eyes to look at him. “It’s just like your daddy, Simi. I was taken out of my mother’s womb before I was born and put into the belly of another. So the Apollite who birthed me wasn’t really my mother. And Stryker wasn’t really my father. Styxx is my father and Bethany is my real mom.”
“Ah! Like Simi you’re adaptable!”
Urian’s grin widened. “Yeah.”
“Wait…” Brandor scowled. “Does she mean adopted?”
“No, silly!” Arms akimbo, Simi rolled her eyes. “Even though we both were adopted, the Simi meant adaptable, ’cause Akri-Uri had to libs with people not his people. He not really a Daimon, he a demigod. Which is better. Sometimes, anyway.” She tsked as she looked back at Urian. “I’m sorry, Akri-Uri. That why you have sadness besides Phoebe-sadness?”
His eyes darkened. “No, Sim. Mostly I just have Phoebe sadness.”
She held her barbecue sauce out toward him. “Wanna eat a dragon? Make you feel all better. Give you warm and fuzzies in the belly.”
