Ember's Kiss by Deborah Cooke Page B

her pen.
    â€œNot gone,” Quinn corrected, nodding at the pad of paper as he juggled the weight of their sons. “Read it to me.”
    â€œDragon lost and dragon found;
    Dragon denied and dragon bound.
    Down to embers, his fire chills,
    In thrall to one whose intent is ill.
    Firedaughter’s spark can ignite the flame,
    Give him strength to fight again.
    Or will both be lost on ocean’s tide
    Surrendered as a failed test’s price?”
    Sara glanced up at Quinn, only to find his expression thoughtful. “What’s a Firedaughter?”
    â€œMy father spoke of them. They’re witches who can assume the form of fire.”
    â€œThey can become fire? Literally?”
    Quinn nodded. “I think there’s more than that, as well.” He frowned. “My father always spoke of them with awe, maybe a bit of fear. He preferred to not talk about them.”
    Sara got her keys and her purse, newly invigorated. “I’m going down to the bookstore. I’ll find out what I can.”
    â€œBut you’re closed today.”
    Sara paused on the threshold and glanced back at him with a smile. “I’ve known you long enough, QuinnTyrrell, to recognize the influence of a firestorm. This may be the only chance I have to do any research.”
    Quinn’s lips tightened and he averted his gaze.
    â€œWon’t you go?” Sara asked, then continued when he didn’t immediately reply. “You used to go to firestorms, to heal the armor of the
Pyr
in question. Who is it this time?”
    â€œNo one I know,” Quinn said flatly. He shook his head. “It doesn’t feel right to me.”
    â€œWhat does it feel like?”
    He winced. “Darkfire.”
    Sara swallowed. He referred to the force that had been set loose before Rafferty’s firestorm. Darkfire seemed to turn everything upside down. She knew that Quinn distrusted its power and that’s why they hadn’t gone to the last firestorm.
    â€œYou can’t stay away forever,” she said, tugging on her coat. “It’s your responsibility.”
    Quinn looked grim. “I have a responsibility to you, as well.”
    Sara kissed him, pausing when her lips were still close to his cheek. “I have a feeling this
Pyr
needs us, Quinn. Not just you, but me, too. I think that’s why I got the prophecy.”
    Quinn frowned and exhaled, looking down at the boys. Ewan was still sleeping, but Garrett was clearly listening. There were times when Sara thought he understood far more than he should for a boy who was not quite three years old.
    â€œI’ll take Ewan with me to the shop. I’m sure he’llkeep sleeping after last night. Why don’t you go into your studio?” Sara smiled. “The forge always helps you think.”
    Quinn nodded and gave Garrett a bounce. “I have a piece of reclaimed wrought iron that’s been tempting me. Garrett can help me.”
    Garrett grinned, then lifted his hands the way dragons lifted their claws in challenge before they fought. He bared his teeth and pretended to breathe fire.
    Was he just playing dragon?
    Or did he sense a coming battle?
    Sara gathered her things and tucked Ewan into a carrier. She was heading out to the car when Quinn called to her. “Come into the studio instead,” he said, his expression grim. “Erik’s coming.”
    So the
Pyr
did need them. Sara wondered what Erik knew.
    Quinn Tyrrell wasn’t surprised to see a pewter and ebony dragon land in the snowy field beyond his studio. He wasn’t surprised when that dragon shimmered blue and a tall man with dark hair took the dragon’s place. He certainly wasn’t surprised when Erik Sorensson strode determinedly toward him and his workshop.
    That Erik came in person to make his request for Quinn’s help indicated how important the leader of the
Pyr
perceived Quinn’s participation to be. Or maybe it was because Quinn had