Abaddon's Mark

Chapter Thirty-Two

Nendan's hands trembled as he clutched them between his legs. His lord ring ran hot but he didn't dare remove it with Graydon sitting across from him and others arriving at any moment. The two of them just stared at nothing in particular as they waited.

He noticed that Graydon was at ease. The younger man didn't shift or adjust. He sat perfectly still, relaxed even as he sat there with one leg crossed over the other, hands settled on the leg, no thrumming or drumming about the fingers. No eye twitching or casual glances about. Though Graydon's eyes appeared distant, it was that of a man caught in thought or making plans.

Deciding his next step.

That was when Nendan recognized the look. He had seen it on the face of the Lord of the Seven when they were properly introduced as the new heir to Lugh. That considering look.

Nendan felt a wash of terror as the eyes flickered to him. It was very much the look of a predator who knew he had been spotted and decided to make his awareness known.

He met the gaze for a second, little more than that, before his eyes shifted to the door of his study. He thought a silent prayer and curse over having to sit through that, like that, with the Dragon Prince across from him, judging his every twitch.

Nendan's bones vibrated. He could feel each and every one of his teeth pulsating in his dry mouth.

When the knob of the door to the study turned, his stomach clenched, then did a sickening spin as Graydon got to his feet. Nendan tried to make the same motion, but his legs failed him, and his body didn't respond. Instead it looked a bit like he tried to straighten and decided to sit back in his chair.

"Graydon, out," Lord Pan commanded. "If you haven't been assigned anything that means you're dismissed. Pan takes no lead in this."

"Yes, sir," Graydon responded.

Nendan sucked in a breath and looked up, waiting for the damning words.

Dead dragon, explosion in the salon and now him out of commission during a major event involving his family's dragon. He made to get up again, this time for real, but Lord Pan raised a hand to stop him.

"Stay seated," Luk said. "Would have been here sooner, but we had to strip search a few boys to get what we needed. Drune?"

Lord Kaulu grunted and began setting items onto the desk.

He met the poor sod who found the last dragon. A third removed from the main line, he had all but gone mad in the aftermath. The closer one was to the main lines, the worse the reaction, though some rumour said the Lords of the Seven had a way to save themselves.

"You did the cut?" Luk asked.

Nendan pulled up his sleeve, where his kerchief was tied around his forearm to stop the bleed. The cut was used for many reasons, but their blades were edged in poison that each user was to keep an immunity for. Higher up one went, the deeper and darker the poison became.

Nendan hadn't had enough time to adjust properly to his.

Luk moved around the desk and pulled the kerchief off. His wince told Nendan it was as bad, or worse, than he suspected. He took a glance and saw the heated lines already threading away from the wound, but then he looked away.

"Shorel could fix this," Nendan said.

"Shorel is busy watching over your shield," Drune said as he began setting up a spell on the desk. "As he should be as shield to your family."

"Maeno—" he started.

"Not yet," Luk muttered.

He dropped Nendan's bloodied kerchief into the middle of the spell Dorn had drawn out. Then Luk pulled a knife from somewhere and nicked his arm in the fleshy portion, but only deep enough to cause a bleed. Drune did the same. The two men bled on the spell, then settled into their seats.