Silence weighed heavy before Gabriel spoke. ‘‘No one knows. I thought they were ouroboros—outcasts, septless dragons who banded together for strength— but now I am not so sure. The way they took over Kostya’s aerie, the manner in which they dealt with Drake, and now this matter of the phylactery . . . it would take more than a small group of lawless dragons to coordinate those activities. There must be someone guiding the group, Drake, someone with a wyvern’s experience at leadership. It has to be Baltic—it can be no one else.’’

‘‘That does seem to make sense, sweetie,’’ Aisling said, leaning into Drake.

He shook his head a third time. ‘‘Baltic is dead. Kostya killed him.’’

I looked at Kostya with no little amount of speculation. ‘‘You’ve been awfully quiet the last few minutes, which I have to say is wholly unlike the ranting and raving manner you normally seem to adopt.’’

‘‘I have not said anything because there is nothing to say that Drake has not already mentioned,’’ Kostya said dismissively.

‘‘So . . . you don’t have anything to say about killing Baltic?’’

‘‘Such as?’’ Kostya’s face continued to remain an expressionless mask.

‘‘Such as did you really kill him? Or are you just saying you did?’’ I thought for a moment. ‘‘It strikes me that perhaps there’s another explanation for this. What if Kostya didn’t actually kill his wyvern? What if he made it seem like he did in order to put some grand plan into effect?’’

‘‘A grand plan whereby I am first exiled, then imprisoned for a few hundred years, abused, tortured, and starved for my own amusement?’’ he snapped back.

‘‘Perhaps,’’ I said slowly, considering the matter. ‘‘If it cemented the idea that you had killed off your wyvern, it’s within the realm of possibility that you would allow yourself to suffer, knowing that an end to all that would come soon enough. Fanatics have suffered much worse for their beliefs.’’

Kostya snorted and turned his back on me, but I noticed he didn’t dispute my comment.

I turned to Gabriel, who was watching Kostya with an equally speculative look in his eyes. ‘‘I don’t believe I’ve ever heard the story of what happened between you and Baltic firsthand,’’ he said evenly. ‘‘Why don’t you tell us about it now.’’

Kostya whipped around and leveled a glare at him. ‘‘I do not recognize your right to question me, Tauhou.’’

‘‘Perhaps not,’’ Aisling said with a misleading sweetness. ‘‘But I’m interested in hearing about this as well. So if you don’t want to end up with several different extremely nasty wards slapped on you, you’ll dish with the details.’’

‘‘Mate,’’ Drake said with a frown, pulling Aisling back as she struggled to get out of the couch. ‘‘I have told you that Baltic is dead. Threatening Kostya will do no good.’’