“You can speak, so long as you don’t interrupt proceedings,” she told it before she ordered it over to a spot near the wall.

It rolled its eyes as it stomped over to the appointed spot. “You’ve been taking mean lessons from May, haven’t you? Boss, boss, boss, that’s all the two of you ever do. Does it occur to either of you to just ask me to do something? Nooo, it’s all about pushing innocent little demons around.”

“Did you want to see Cecile this weekend?” Aisling asked sweetly.

Jim glared mutely at her, obviously getting the point.

“Who’s Cecile?” I asked Gabriel.

His eyes were solemn as he watched Kostya take his seat, get thumped on the back of the shoulder by Cyrene, and leap up to get a chair to place next to his. “An elderly Welsh corgi. She is owned by Aisling’s friend in Paris. I do not like it, May.”

“I can take or leave corgis myself, but—”

“No, I mean that I do not like the air of contentment Kostya is wearing. You might not believe he is part of the heinous crimes committed yesterday, but he is up to something.”

“The sárkány will begin,” Chuan Ren said loudly, slamming her hand down on the table.

“Ugh. Don’t tell me it’s her turn to chair?” I asked Maata in a whisper.

She nodded, her face inscrutable. Both she and Tipene stood behind Gabriel. I thought it was interesting that despite there being three—four if you counted Kostya—wyverns with mates, only five chairs had been set around the table—one for each recognized wyvern, and the fifth for Kostya, who assumably would be recognized at this meeting. Each wyvern had to bring an extra chair to the table for his or her mate—the symbolism did not escape me.

“Bring Fiat!” Chuan Ren, never one to expend energy on extra words when a few sharp commands would do, almost yelled the order to Drake.

He merely raised his eyebrows. Aisling narrowed her eyes, and I could see her fingers twitching, as if she was dying to draw a ward.

“I believe the agenda lists the petition by Kostya for recognition,” Drake said calmly.

Chuan Ren gripped the edge of the table until her fingers were white, but she didn’t come unglued as I half expected. She merely gave Kostya a piercing look. “Konstantin Fekete, the weyr acknowledges your petition for recognition and reinstatement of the sept of the black dragons. You are familiar with the laws which govern members of the weyr—do you now agree to abide by and uphold those laws?”

Kostya rose, looking at everyone for a long, long moment. “The black dragons have been valued members of the weyr since its inception, and our inclusion within it is long overdue. Although we have had a somewhat troubled history—”

Gabriel stiffened as Kostya shot him a quick glance.

“—we have resolved our differences and are willing to let the ghosts of the past rest easily.”

I wondered if he really would, whether he had realized what a folly it was to try to battle the silver dragons, or whether it was all a horrible deception meant to lull us into a false sense of security. On the whole, I believed he was sincere. He wanted to be back in the weyr just too much to endanger it by pursuing the idiotic idea of reclaiming the silver dragons.

“As wyvern by right of tanistry, heir to the former wyvern Baltic—” He choked just a smidgen on that name, but he recovered nicely. “As heir, I swear upon my life that the black dragon sept will abide by and uphold the laws of the weyr.”

Chuan Ren looked bored and impatient. Barely had Kostya finished his little speech and sat down before she was on her feet, demanding to know, “You have heard the petition for recognition. How say the wyverns?”

“Aye,” Drake said clearly. “The green dragons will welcome the reinstatement of the black dragons to the weyr.”

Aisling smiled at Cyrene, who was positively bouncing in her chair next to Kostya. I frowned at her, but she just grinned back at me, and blew me a kiss.

Chuan Ren’s nostrils flared, but she said nothing, just looked pointedly at Bastian.

He cleared his throat and stood, bowing to the table in general before saying, “As the rightful wyvern of the blue dragons, I, too, say aye. We will be delighted to see Kostya and his dragons in the weyr once again.”

“I like him,” Cyrene said to Kostya. I think she meant it to be a whisper, but she was so excited, everyone heard. “He’s so much nicer than his nephew.”

Bastian flashed her a quick smile before sitting down.

Chuan Ren took a deep breath, her fingers still tense on the table, as she glanced to Gabriel.

Gabriel watched Kostya closely for a moment, his expression benign, but his eyes blazed. “There is a fact about which the weyr is ignorant that I believe should be taken into consideration.”

“Fact? What fact?” Kostya shot Gabriel an irritated look.

“You were seen in Paris,” Gabriel answered. “Shortly before it was discovered that sixty-eight dragons living in France had been brutally slaughtered.”

Kostya’s eyes narrowed. “And you think I had something to do with that?”

“I think it’s possible that your relationship with Baltic was not destroyed when he was,” Gabriel said evenly. “I think you conceal your true intentions from us. I think you are capable of killing innocent dragons in the pursuit of whatever goal you feel worthy.”

The look on Kostya’s face was telling. Disbelief mingled with anger, followed by a furious look that told me more than mere words that he was outraged by Gabriel’s statement. Kostya was innocent of the deaths; of that I was sure. “I had believed the silver dragons still possessed some honor. I see now I was wrong.”

Gabriel stiffened and rose slowly. Maata made a checked movement, as if she was holding herself back.

Drake sighed and shook his head.

“You speak of our honor?” Gabriel asked, his lovely voice hard and brittle.

“I do.” Kostya lifted his chin. “I was in Paris, and thus I must be responsible. That is the way of your thinking, is it not?”

“Do you deny you were in Paris at the time?”

“No.”

The room was silent for a moment as everyone digested that.

“If you were not involved in Fiat’s destruction of the blue dragons, what were you doing there?”

A muscle in Kostya’s jaw tightened. “You have no right to ask me that. I am not obligated by any law in the weyr to make you privy to my movements, or the reasons behind any action I take.”