Page 54 of Triumph at Pemberley

“I was not told,” Coquelicot said with some asperity. “Cerridwen said it was vital to our survival, though.”

Yet another of Cerridwen’s vague visions? This was getting frustrating! She opened the sack and poured the contents into her hand.

It was an elaborately patterned dragon scale. Only Rana Akshaya’s scales looked like that, but what would make the autocratic dragon give one up?

Then Rana Akshaya spoke inside her head, as imperiously as ever. Put it away now. Take it out again when you are alone.

So it was for communication, like the ones Darcy and Elizabeth had used when he was in France. Squelching her natural instinct to ignore orders, she tucked it back in the bag. “Is there anything else?” she asked Coquelicot.

The ruby dragon shifted from one foot to the other nervously. “Nothing else. Little One, may we go now?”

Darcy turned back to look at her from where he stood clasping Jack’s arm, reluctance obvious in his features. “Could we stay just a few minutes longer so I may speak to Jack?”

Coquelicot was practically hopping in place, if a huge dragon could hop. “If you wish.” But she was clearly unhappy.

Frederica put on her best persuasive voice. “Coquelicot, there are many men here with terrible wounds. While you are waiting, could I ask you to help one or two of them?” If she knew Coquelicot, once she started, the dragon would not stop healing until they dragged her away.

Coquelicot brightened, as if Frederica had offered her a rare treat. “If they need me, of course I will.”

“Then wait here, and I will have them carried to you. Jack has already given most of them enough power to survive, but their wounds will still cripple them.” She headed back to the hospital tent after a quick wink at Darcy.

Two hours later, Frederica caught the sleeve of one of the soldiers who had just set down a litter. “After this one, I need you to go to Captain Jack’s tent and tell the gentleman with him that his dragon requires him.” Perhaps Coquelicot would listen to Darcy, because she certainly was paying no attention to her. She wished she could spare the Talent to send her message to Quickthorn instead, but she was too close to the end of her reserves.

The man’s weary eyes widened. “Right away, sir! I mean, madam.”

That should take care of it. She would ask the next one to stop sending out the endless stream of injured men, and hope Coquelicot would not guess how many more there were. How could the dragon keep going? Frederica was ready to collapse herself, and she was just watching and keeping order. Even though it was beyond satisfying to see the wounded boys whose last letters she had written suddenly sitting up with bright eyes. Their mothers would see them come home now.

If they survived the next battle. Because of course there would be a next one, and more after that.

She shook off the depressing thought. It needed to go in the back of her mind, along with missing Roderick. She was almost used to the ache in her chest whenever she thought of him.

She resumed her rounds of speaking to the healed soldiers, reminding them they must rest even if their wounds were gone. That both Captain Jack and the Ruby Dragon wanted it. They were avoiding using Coquelicot’s French name, since it would only frighten the men, but already the Ruby Dragon was second only to Captain Jack as an object of veneration. Well, if it meant the soldiers would stop being frightened of dragons, all the better. Quickthorn was staying at a distance in falcon form to avoid the fuss, and Gentiane was hiding somewhere.

“You sent for me?” Darcy’s voice behind her made her jump.

“Oh, yes.” She took his arm and drew him away from the press of soldiers. “I think Coq—I mean, your dragon may be draining herself, but I cannot get her to stop.”

Darcy snorted. “Of course she is. I will see what I can do. Thank you for getting me some time with Jack.” He stilled, and his eyes went unfocussed.

The prickle of silent sendings ran over Frederica’s skin. Likely it was wise to do this silently. If any of the soldiers heard Darcy asking Coquelicot to stop her healings, they would mob him. They wanted more of Jack than he could give, too.

After a few minutes, Darcy sighed. “She will stop when she has finished with these men, but I had to promise we would stay overnight so she could do more in the morning.”

“Can you do that? Stay here, that is, without being arrested?”

Darcy’s smile flashed in the fading light. “Not a problem anymore. I received a letter apologizing for the misunderstanding leading to the warrant for my arrest and assuring me it was no longer valid. Apparently Jack told the War Office he would refuse to fight if they did not, and they dared not take the risk.”

Jack had not mentioned that to her. “Good, then,” she said briskly. “The orderlies have agreed not to bring out any more wounded for now.” And then she had better deal with the new Artifact.

Frederica held the small sack in her hand. Warmth radiated from it, along with power. She had never had an Artifact in her custody before. It was rare for the magical objects to find their way into human hands, though she had run across a few of them at Pemberley. She had flipped through Elizabeth’s ancient Arabic books and seen the dragon scale she used to communicate with Darcy in France. Before that, the only one she had even known about had been the silver ring the King’s Mage wore which blocked magical repulsion. The one she thought would be hers someday, before her life had veered off into becoming a dragon companion. How impossibly different her life would have been, had she not gone to Pemberley to tutor Elizabeth! She would likely be the King’s Mage herself, completely ignorant of the dragons of England. She would never have met Roderick, much less married him.

Would they ever have the chance to have an ordinary married life?

She stuffed the thought away and removed the iridescent scale, letting it rest upon her palm. Her skin prickled under it, though not unpleasantly. What was she supposed to do now? It would help if Rana Akshaya had sent some sort of instructions.

Perhaps she would give it a few minutes more. If nothing had happened by then, she would seek out Darcy. She wanted all the news from Pemberley. Elizabeth had become her closest friend in the time she spent there, and being reduced to occasional letters from her was not as satisfying. Now she would be lucky if a letter could even find her.

The tingling grew deeper, now penetrating deep into her hand. Then Rana Akshaya was in her head.