“Well, that is an interesting thought,” Bitterroot said. “Especially since we have to address the subject of you reneging on our contract.”
“What?” Nero jolted. “I did no such thing!”
“I believe our contract required secrecy. That means you couldn’t tell anyone about our deal.” He arched a brow at Josh. “And yet you told him.”
“That’s different. Josh had to know. He had to get the shields and the jackets—”
“It doesn’t matter why you broke the deal.” Bitterroot smirked. “Only that you did.”
“And this is why we never make fairy deals,” Mother huffed. “Because there’s always a fucking catch.”
Nero advanced on Bitterroot. His hands were clenched and his brow furrowed. He towered over the diminutive fairy in the most intimidating way. Unfortunately Bitterroot didn’t seem the least bit cowed.
“You owed me a favor!” Nero barked.
“Which is why you aren’t right now covered in fairy boils. But a contract is a contract—”
Mother cut in, her voice unusually subdued. “I’ll take his time,” she said, and suddenly she had 100 percent of Bitterroot’s attention.
“What?” he asked, his voice airy light, but there was an intensity to the question that could not be denied.
Mother folded her arms across her chest. “How long is Josh’s employment contract for?”
Josh spoke up, his voice thick but still able to say the number that had been bouncing around his brain since the moment he’d made the deal. “Forty-nine human years.”
“I’ll do it—” Mother said.
“No!” Both he and Nero were emphatic. And in stereo.
“—I’ll serve their sentence for them, but I’m not doing forty-nine years. I’ll do one, because a woman has got to be worth at least forty-nine of these losers.”
“Forty,” Bitterroot offered.
“One.”
“Forty-two and I’ll pay you in rubies.”
“One. And I’ll take human money in my bank account.”
“Thirty-five, and you’ll be my consort.”
“One, and I’ll be your employee. Separate living quarters and duties we both agree on.”
“You will be obedient to me and me alone?”
She swallowed. “I’ll perform duties we agree upon ahead of time. For one human year.”
Bitterroot glanced to the side, and his smile widened. Josh didn’t even know what he was looking at until he spoke. “You may be my dragon master,” he said.
She snorted. “Since when do you have dragons?”
“Since now,” he said, and he moved quickly over to one of the blackened shields. Bending down, he gently sifted through the partially melted framework and ash to where that egg had been. A moment later he was gingerly lifting up a tiny dragon no larger than the palm of his hand. Then he walked it back to Mother, using one hand to lift hers, palm-side up, before gently setting the ruby-red creature in her hand.
“Wow,” Coffee whispered. “You totallyGame of Thrones-ed it.”
Josh had to agree. All of them crowded closer to see, but Mother was the most entranced of all, her eyes wide as she stared at the delicate creature.
“There’s more,” Bitterroot said as he went to the debris of shields littered on the ground. One in each pile of ash, all different jewel colors. He gathered each one, warning Cream away from a shield with a dark glare and a snapped order to “Stay back. They’re delicate and take special handling.” Then he reverently set each one in Mother’s hands. And when they spilled past her palms, he used her wrists and put one on her shoulder.
