The dreamy look left her face, replaced with a frail-looking expression. ‘‘Oh, Mayling, you’re going to think I’m the most horrid creature ever, but I truly do feel tired. Gabriel said that my body went through so much energy to start the healing process, it might take me a little bit before I’d be back to normal.’’

I’d been standing right next to her when he said that, but I didn’t point that out. I frowned down at my hands, wondering what the best plan would be. Should I trust the dragons and leave Cyrene in their care while I managed the situation with Kostich? My instincts said that she was all right, but she was still very pale, and apparently quite weak. What if she had been permanently damaged by the attack? Would even a healer as competent as the silver wyvern be able to help her?

Those questions and a thousand others chased around in my head as I watched Cyrene drift toward sleep.

‘‘You go see what they want,’’ she murmured, her eyes drooping shut. ‘‘More specifically, see what Gabriel wants from you.’’

My lips tightened at the reminder of his comment earlier. Oh, I knew what he wanted: the same thing every other unconscionable being in the Otherworld wanted from me. I waited until I was sure she was asleep, then squared my shoulders and mentally girded my loins to face the dragons in their den.

‘‘—had no idea that doppelgangers could become invisible like that. That’s an incredibly powerful ability. It’s no wonder she abuses it, although—oh, May. I’m . . . er . . . this is embarrassing,’’ Aisling said as I entered the room that opened onto the patio, a faint flush pinkening her cheeks. ‘‘It seems I’m doomed to put my foot in my mouth around you.’’

I gave her a little smile. She seemed nice enough, quite pleasant for a demon lord, displaying none of the traits common to Magoth. ‘‘Don’t let it bother you,’’ I said politely, hesitating at the entrance of the room. Aisling and Drake were sitting together on a sofa, Pál standing in the background, talking quietly with a now-bandaged István.

Gabriel stood leaning against the wall, a glass of red wine in his hand. His dimples deepened slightly as he spotted me, gesturing with the glass to the bar beside me. ‘‘May I offer you a beverage, May?’’

‘‘Whatever you’re having is fine,’’ I said, obediently taking the seat that Aisling waved me to. Behind me, the man and woman who seemed to be accompanying Gabriel took seats. I had a feeling they had chosen their spots with care.

‘‘I don’t think that would be wise at all,’’ Gabriel answered with an enigmatic smile, pouring out a glass of a local red wine.