Page 92 of Dragon’s Ending

Every instinct I possessed sharpened. I didn’t know why, only that my dragon had gone utterly still beneath my skin.

Rhodri’s gaze moved briefly across the room before settling on me. “Dominic,” he said.

Before I could be sure what the tone in his voice meant, he added, “And Ben.”

Across the drawing room, Ben looked up sharply from whatever horrifyingly academic conversation he’d cornered Megan into enduring. Our eyes met, and his expression mirrored exactly what I felt. Oh, shit.

We crossed the hall in silence. Behind us, conversation resumed in the drawing room, noticeably louder now both Rhodri and Mortimer were gone. My dragon stayed braced the entire way to the study, insisting that Ben should be somewhere away from Mortimer. I couldn’t argue with the sentiment.

Mortimer moved unhurriedly to the study bookshelves while Rhodri closed the door behind us. The click sounded far too final. Nobody invited us to sit.

Excellent. Fantastic. Very reassuring atmosphere all round.

Mortimer ran a finger lightly along the spine of one of the older books, apparently entirely unconcerned by the silence stretching behind him.

“An interesting range of titles,” he observed.

Ben was very still beside me. To anyone else he probably looked calm enough, but I could feel tension radiating off him in waves. My dragon pressed forward hard beneath my skin in response, still deeply uneasy at Ben being anywhere near Mortimer.

Mortimer finally turned from the shelves, and settled into one of the armchairs beside the fire. Rhodri took the other opposite him.

There was a small sofa against the far wall, small enough that Ben and I would have had to jam in together, sitting shoulder to shoulder on it.

I stayed where I was. Beside me, Ben remained standing as well, after only the briefest hesitation.

Rhodri was very still, which wasn’t unusual. But there was a quality to it now that suggested he wasn’t at ease. I wondered if he had any idea what Mortimer wanted with us.

“Have you found anything of particular interest in the Bedwyr archives, Ben?” Mortimer asked. I noticed for the first time how motionless he was. No picking off a piece of lint, no crossing of his legs. Just the patient stillness of a predator.

Ben blinked, visibly caught off guard. “That depends on what one calls interesting,” he said carefully.

“From what Dominic was saying before supper, I was under the impression you’d uncovered some questions over succession.”

Ben looked like a rabbit in headlights for an instant. “Um, no,” he said. “Nothing like that.”

“Perhaps Dominic has a tendency towards exaggeration,” Mortimer observed mildly.

“Understatement’s overrated,” I informed him.

Mortimer’s lips twitched very slightly.

Oh, fantastic. The terrifying ancient dragon liked me.

“And Dragon’s Ending itself?” Mortimer continued, holding Ben’s gaze. “Has the family made you welcome?”

There was absolutely nothing casual about that question.

“Yes,” Ben said after only the slightest hesitation. “Very welcome.”

“How about your work?” Mortimer continued. “Do you have much more to do here?”

Ben glanced at me instinctively before he could stop himself.

“I’m not entirely sure how long it will take,” he admitted.

“Really.” Mortimer sounded thoughtful. “That surprises me. You strike me as someone rather attached to certainty.”

Ben actually laughed softly at that. “Only historically.”