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“That’s just it,” he said. “None of our healing potions were used.”

She and Eva looked at each other. “I had healing potion in my pack,” Pia said. That wasn’t a lie either. She did carry a few, just in case.

“There’s Hugh with the car,” said Eva. “We gotta go, sport.”

Eva and Johnny looked at each other. Moving as one, they stepped into a fierce hug. “It’s not gonna be the same without you,” he said, muffled.

“’Course it won’t.” She thumped him on the back. “You kids gonna have to worship my bitch-goddess self from afar.”

He laughed, his arms loosening. “See you around, bitch.”

“You know it.” Eva slapped him on the cheek, an affectionate tap, and turned to Pia. “Ready, Tink.”

She blew out a breath. “Let’s go.”

As they walked outside to the Cadillac idling at the curb, Eva said telepathically, See, like I told you. He’s confused and he don’t really know anything.

Pia didn’t reply as she climbed into the backseat.

No, Johnny didn’t know anything, she thought. But he knew enough to wonder about what really happened, and to question her story. Healing potion couldn’t have healed him so completely, not that bad of a wound, and not without leaving a scar.

And people talk.

She told Hugh and Eva to wait outside, then she walked into the Cuelebre supersuite at the Madison Square Arena. Dragos stood at the window that looked out over the arena. He had his head bent over a file while Kris talked to him. Both men turned as the door opened, and Dragos’s eyebrows shot up in surprise. They lowered again immediately.

“What,” he growled, “are you doing here?”

“I’m doing the same thing you are, so don’t give me any lip about it,” she said calmly. As he assessed her with a narrowed gaze, she walked over to kiss him. Then she looked out over the arena.

A smile hovered at the edges of his hard mouth as he bent his head again to read his file, and she could tell that he was really pleased. He murmured, “It’s that whole partnership thing again, isn’t it?”

“Yes,” she said. She braced herself. “Dragos, in the spirit of partnership, we need to talk about something.”

He lowered the file and brought his head up with a frown. “What’d I do this time?”

She shook her head at him. “Nothing. It’s what I did.”

“Kris,” Dragos said without looking around at his assistant.

“Yeah, I got it,” Kris said. “Go work somewhere else for a while.”

As soon as the younger man left, Dragos threw his file on a chair and turned to her. “What happened?”

She told him about Johnny’s injury and how she had healed him. When she had finished, she said, “He doesn’t know what happened, but he’s really puzzled.”

“Ah,” said Dragos. “That’s the other healing you were talking about.”

“What? When?”

The corners of his lips twitched. He told her, “When you stuck your elbow in my mouth.”

She rubbed her temples. It wasn’t even ten o’clock in the morning, and already a pressure headache was beginning to build behind her eyes.

“The thing is,” she said, “Johnny’s bound to talk about what happened. In fact, I’m sure he already has to his unit, and who could blame him? Then there’s what happened to you out on the battlefield, when, as you say, I stuck my elbow in your mouth. You were clearly down and not getting up on your own. People have got to know that I did something to heal you. And Dragos, you may not have noticed this, but I certainly have—people are starting to resent the fact that I haven’t revealed my Wyr side.”

His amusement had vaporized, leaving him taut with tension. He said, “Where are you going with all of this?”

She threw out her hand in a gesture of frustration. “I’m wondering if we should just throw my Wyr side out there and let the world know. I’ve thought before that this whole issue is like watching a slow-building train wreck—”

“No,” he said. His gold eyes flared with incandescence. “We should not.”

“I’m not sure that we’re going to have any choice about it,” she said.

“We have a choice, and I say no.” His hands came down on her shoulders and he gripped her hard. “In fact,” he said between his teeth, “I really want to forbid this. I want you to notice that I haven’t.”

She softened and rubbed his forearms. “I notice it, Dragos, and I’m very glad of it.”

He studied her grimly, clearing thinking hard. “Speculation is not knowledge,” he said. “Just like Johnny is confused about what happened to him, people cannot be sure about what happened in the valley. They don’t know if you fed me healing potion, or if you threw a healing spell. Most of them were too far away. The only ones who were close by to see anything in detail are the sentinels.”

“And Carling,” she said. “And Quentin, and Alex, and Eva—and don’t forget Hugh.”

His dangerous gaze narrowed. “Eva.”

“She won’t say a word,” Pia said hurriedly. “I believe that. She and Hugh came to work for me this morning. I only brought them up because they add to the total number of people who know something.”

“Still, except for the gryphons, nobody knows anything for sure,” Dragos said. “And we should keep it that way. No, don’t interrupt me—listen: I hear what you’re saying. But in spite of everything that has happened, Pia, we’ve only seen a week go by, and you’re suggesting we do something that we cannot take back once it is done. We haven’t had time to consider all the consequences—especially for how it might affect the baby’s life once the news gets out.”

She sucked in a breath, her gaze turning stricken. “I hadn’t even thought of that.”

His fingers tightened. “People are going to speculate about you for the rest of your life. That’s part of who you are now. Let them speculate about this too. It does no harm for them to think that you might be able to throw unusually effective healing spells.”

“Yes.” She sighed. He pulled her into his arms, and she rested her aching head on his chest. “Everything you said makes sense.”

“Well, thank gods for that.” He kissed her forehead. “I took Taliesin’s Machine over the ocean last night and threw it in the water.”

What?” Her head snapped up so fast, she clipped him on the chin. “I thought you said you didn’t see it!”

“Ouch!” He glowered at her and rubbed his chin. “You asked if I saw any prayer beads, and I hadn’t. The Machine had taken the form of a perfect diamond. It was fucking gorgeous, Pia, and it was almost the size of my fist. So I put it in my pocket and cloaked it, and then we had a shitload of things to do, and when I knew that you were home, safe in bed, I threw it away.”

She chewed her lip, her forehead wrinkled. “I don’t suppose there was anything else to be done,” she said at last.

“There wasn’t. It can’t be destroyed, and it was far too dangerous for us to hold on to. Eventually it will work its way back into the world. I just wanted you to know what I’d done.”

She considered him for a long moment. Then she laid her head back on his chest. “You’re going to make such a splendid husband.”

His arms closed around her again, possessively. “I am, which is a good thing, because I’m the only husband you’re ever going to get.”

She closed her eyes, soaking up the sensation while she inhaled his masculine scent. “I can live with that.”

The fighting in the arena that day was savage, and most of the contestants—except for Quentin again—got bloodied one way or another. Mostly Pia pretended to watch. She put on a good show, although more often than not her gaze rested on the Elven demesne’s box that remained empty. At the end of the day, there were fourteen contestants left, including all five of the original sentinels. Again, Pia could tell that Dragos was pleased.

“They all want it,” he said. “They’re going to win through again.”

She devoutly hoped that was a good thing, as she looked down on the top of Aryal’s head.