by Dianna Love
Both had happened.
Herrick sat with his hands flat on the table and a look of decision in his gaze. “We must speak with the seer.”
Casidhe’s anxiety shot out of sight.
The only time the seer, an older woman with strange hazel eyes, had spoken to Casidhe, she’d just turned nineteen.
The seer had told her to leave and never come back.
Chapter 11
Casidhe cupped her hands on the table, trying to calm her nerves. This had not been the comforting family reunion she’d envisioned.
Herrick motioned to one of the servants who came quickly.
“Yes, sire.”
“Bring the seer.”
Five minutes passed in stilted silence before a statuesque woman an inch taller than Casidhe with black hair so dark it shimmered blue, walked in wearing a gray robe that moved sluggishly as if sewn of wool. The searing lavender eyes stood out against the nut-brown color skin on her smooth face, which showed no sign of aging for a woman in her fifties.
She wore three strands of silver chains in different lengths. A charoite stone with swirls of deep purple that seemed to move hung from the shortest chain close to her neck.
She went straight to Herrick, never wasting a look at Casidhe. “What do you require of me?”
Herrick said, “You know Casidhe.”
The seer nodded. “I heard she had returned.” Now turning to Casidhe with a forced smile, she said, “’Tis good to see you again.” Then her gaze roamed to the sword and sheath. She stepped back, her body tense where she’d been relaxed a moment ago.
Casidhe asked, “What’s wrong?
“You have brought Lann an Cheartais with you. That disturbs me.”
Ready for yet another blow to her battered ego, Casidhe’s question came out with an edge. “Why?”
Herrick intervened. “She does not criticize you, Casidhe.”
Sure as hell sounded like criticism to her. Casidhe waited for more. She’d done her duty and would not apologize when no one was providing more information.
Herrick stated to the seer, “I need your sight so we can understand what is goin’ on. An unknown bein’ came to the archival centre. Neither Casidhe nor Fenella know who it was, though he did ask about the Treoirs. I must know if this has anythin’ to do with the red dragon.”
Casidhe silently thought, Here we go again. The red dragon Herrick had told her about had been captured and locked away in TÅμr Medb during the Dragani War. Still there, supposedly. She’d feel some sympathy for anyone trapped in a realm, but not the dragon who started the war that ended peace among the dragons and cost Herrick his family.
The seer gave him a pensive look. “Allow me access to the blade.”
Before she was ordered to do so, Casidhe stood and stepped aside so the seer would be able to move as close as she wished.
The woman stepped up until her body bumped the edge of the table. She extended her arm with a wide sleeve covering it and held her hand reverently above the blade. Then she moved her palm facedown above the sheath back and forth horizontally.
On the third swipe across, the blade slid out of the sheath and rested on the table.
Unbelievable. Casidhe narrowed her eyes at the sword. It wouldn’t come out to help her protect herself, but it showed off for the seer?
After standing in that position and not moving for a minute, the seer lowered her fingers to touch the blade. Her reaction was immediate.
Her body straightened with her hands away from her body. Her eyes rolled up in her head. She stayed that way for the longest time, so stiff looking Casidhe wondered if she might break.
Casidhe tossed a look of question to Herrick, who shook his head in warning to not touch her or speak.
After at least two minutes of watching the seer while she appeared to be straining with her hands trembling and muscles tight in her neck, her arms dropped loose at her sides. Her shoulders relaxed and she blinked, her eyes returning to normal again. She took several deep breaths and clasped her hands in front of her.
Drawing one last calming breath, she turned to Herrick. “Something important has changed. The red dragon appeared to me in his dragon form, no longer locked inside of a throne in TÅμr Medb. I do not know what that means.”
“You think he lives free today?” Casidhe questioned.
The seer turned a flat gaze to her. “I speak only of what I know. He lives.”
That changed everything. She started thinking of how to research him. “What of his family? Would his sisters still be alive?”
Herrick pushed that aside. “I do not care about his family, only mine. Besides, his sisters were not immortal like him.” He returned to the seer. “If Daegan managed to escape Queen Maeve, he is a threat to all of us. It’s too coincidental that he is free and my sister’s sword comes to life at the same time. Daegan would not want any dragon to live besides him.”
Casidhe lifted a fist. “He will never touch our family.”
Sadness burrowed into the seer’s face for a moment then she blinked it away.
Did that woman doubt all that Casidhe had done since going to the university so she could easily explain her ability to read ancient text? Did the woman not see how hard Casidhe worked or what she sacrificed?
Just as Fenella had pointed out, Casidhe had no one to share her life with and no other activity besides training her body and pouring through tomes for a sliver of information on Skarde.
“There is more,” the seer announced. Without waiting for an invitation to speak, she continued. “I saw Skarde for a fleeting moment.”
Herrick’s demeanor underwent a striking change from relaxed to tense, as if waiting for something that might crush him. He whispered, “Does he ... does he live?”
“I will need to focus on this longer, but I saw a glimpse of him traveling between two great clouds. He was being moved by a force, not his wings. He ... ” She shook her head, unwilling to say more.
“Tell me,” Herrick demanded. Power in his voice rattled every piece of furniture in the room.
“Keep in mind that I only say what I see, which does not mean it is definitive. My visions are fluid. Anything can change once I have seen them.”
Herrick crossed his arms and spoke quietly this time. “Tell me all.”
Nodding, she said, “Skarde appeared to be close to death so I could tell nothing about the place he left or where he was headed.”
Herrick sucked in a breath. “No.”
“I do not say he has died. I have not seen such. I only tell you he was very weak as he moved from one place to another.”
Casidhe’s pulse kicked up. Could she really find Skarde after all the years of hunting? She asked the seer, “What do you think the two clouds represented?”
The woman surprised her by angling her head in thought and not snapping at her. “I do not know, but I sense that it was not of this human world.”
“Maybe he was in a realm all this time like the red dragon,” Casidhe murmured. Then she asked Herrick, “Do you think Queen Maeve captured Skarde, too?”
Herrick lost his ferocious look and studied on her question. “I do not think so. The queen loved announcin’ that she had the red dragon. She had no ally among dragons and would have shoved it in our face if she had captured Skarde.”
Dead end on that line of thought, but Casidhe had a fire in her gut. She would find Skarde then Herrick would celebrate having her in the family. He would see her value beyond being someone to watch for visitors at the archival centre.
Now, if only she and Shannon’s sword could get along. She told Herrick, “If you can show me how to bond with this sword, I will find this red dragon and Skarde.”
“No,” Herrick boomed. “You are not to ever go near Daegan. You are not to invite any opportunity to meet him. All I want you to do is find out what you can about him. He will not stay hidden if he is free. Watch for any sign of him that comes through all of your technology and communication devices. I
only want to know how to find Daegan then I will find Skarde.”
That splashed cold water on her fire. She argued, “What if findin’ the red dragon leads me to Skarde? You just criticized me for comin’ without notice and possibly bringin’ an enemy to the village. I cannot be doin’ this with my hands tied behind my back.”
Lifting a large hand to his forehead, Herrick muttered something to himself. When he lowered the hand, he looked tired. “You cannot go up against any dragon, but especially the red dragon. I know you work hard and want to do more, but I only have ever asked you to use your gift to find anythin’ you can for me. If that Cavan person returns to the archival centre, take on his work and find out all you can about him. Make sure to keep your energy hidden. I can tell you grow stronger. If I can, someone else can.”
Again, she’d like to know her roots, but if looking into her own past would bring unwanted attention to him and the village, she couldn’t do it.
Tension from the seer drew Casidhe’s gaze. The woman stared down with her mouth in a hard line and her hands clasped in a white-knuckle grip.
What had made her so angry?
Could she not be happy that Casidhe came for a visit?
Everyone here enjoyed kinship day after day. All Casidhe wanted was a slice of that for herself.
Herrick said, “You should sleep some, Casidhe.”
Give up this time with him? No. She smiled, “I’m refreshed from the meal.”
“’Tis good, but you will need to head back in a few hours.”
So much for her slice of time.
The seer cast a dark look her way, then turned and left.
Chapter 12
Cathbad the Druid teleported to a familiar wide ledge high atop a snow-swept mountain range in the Himalayas.
He clothed himself in a heavy coat, boots, and thick pants even though he could take pretty much any temperature. No matter the era, he enjoyed fine clothing.
After allowing another few minutes of peace before facing an antagonistic woman with a one-track mind, he turned to the hidden entrance. He called up his power and moved a massive stone to the side. That obstacle would only hold back natural beings, but it prevented Brynhild from looking out, or anyone seeing into her lair.
With the stone out of the way, he walked through the ward shielding access to anyone but himself, and preventing her from leaving without his knowledge. While she could not teleport, she’d shown off her ability to turn invisible in dragon form. He had not known she possessed that ability when he brought her here unconscious during the Dragani War. He’d put her in a frozen pool sealed by a powerful spell. She stayed there until he woke her weeks ago.
She had failed to see the value in his efforts and tried to kill him.
He kept alert as he strolled deep into the cavern lit by torches positioned in the far left area where the wall dipped deep. Brynhild’s hoard remained piled to the ceiling and stretched out toward the center of a cavern large enough for her to fly around in dragon form. This cave had belonged to another dragon who lived and passed on long before she’d been born.
Continuing slowly, he watched for her as he moved around the edge of the deep pond created just for holding her all these centuries.
She had to be here. What was Brynhild up to right now? He and Queen Maeve had created a clever plan not long after the Dragani War where they would go into a deep sleep and reincarnate centuries later when they would have an advantage.
Neither of them expected the way this world had changed.
He’d expected dragons to have died off, yet some lived besides Brynhild.
That red dragon for one.
The water exploded straight up, driven by a massive dragon with diaphanous-blue and pearl-white scales over the silvery skin. Her dragon arched before slamming the ceiling and banked hard to land between him and her hoard.
“What do ya protect from me, Brynhild? I be the one who saved that treasure for ya.”
Fierce blue eyes flashed hatred.
He’d dealt with worse and calmly waited for her to come to her senses.
She opened her wings and lifted her huge dragon head, roaring so loud the ice on the ceiling ruptured and flew around the cavern in a sparkling cloud.
If she hit him with even one piece after he warned her last time, he would lock her underwater again.
But the ice slowed and floated gently as a child’s mobile spinning.
“’Tis time for ya to shift so we can talk, Brynhild.”
She lowered her dragon’s head the size of a car and opened her jaws. “That is all you do, druid. Talk, talk, talk.” The dragon had a smooth, but full voice. “Then you dare to teleport me here and seal me in this cage again?”
“’Tis a nice cave, not a cage.”
She shifted, power flooding the area as she made a quick change. He’d begun to notice how fast she shifted and wondered if that was her natural way or something she worked on recently.
Now standing tall, dressed in her black battle armor with her family’s dragon crest in silver on her chest and impressive metallic boots, she lifted her head. Vivid eyes, outlined in kohl, stared down her nose to insult him. Her blond hair remained in a mass of braids twisted around her head, all but a thick one that fell over her shoulder.
Cathbad sighed. “I have come to tell ya what to work on next so that we can try takin’ ya into the human world again dressed as a contemporary woman.”
She raised her arms and stomped around, growling, then swung back to him. “I have been in the human world with you. I executed everything you needed excellently. I tire of you tutoring me as a child on stupid things. I am a warrior and I have yet to kill Daegan as you promised. You put me off and threaten to break your oath.”
He bristled. To break an oath in their world came with severe repercussions. “I do no such thing. Ya never remember our agreement, constantly tryin’ ta twist words. Do not accuse me of that again,” he warned. “Unless ya wish to spend another couple millennia in that pond.”
She shoved her hands on her hips. “What do you want, druid? For me to perform as a pet monkey yet once more? I have done my part, twice in fact. Do you actually think I will jump every time you order me?”
“A pet would be a more willin’ partner,” he countered. “We have made a good start. I need ya out with me as much as ya wish to leave this cave. To do that, ya must learn all ya need ta move fluidly among humans and I must be able to trust ya to keep your word outside this cavern. Ya push the limits every time we leave.”
“You are such a—”
“Do not call me a nag again. That will not gain yar freedom, Brynhild.” He had given her space to accept her life and become the woman he needed to reach his goal of gaining Treoir Castle and all within that realm. If she could do her part, she would see Daegan die and rule alongside Cathbad, but only if he could risk turning his back on her.
She shrugged. “Nag is not the word I reached for. I have kept my part of the agreement. I told you I would join you to gain Daegan’s death, but I weary of waiting. Have I not done as you have asked?”
He could answer that question two ways. She sounded so contrite, but she didn’t possess that emotion. She had done what he’d required of her, but not without conflict each time.
Gifting her with a smile, he said, “Yes, ya have been impressive.” Women needed stroking, even medieval dragon shifters.
Her lips hinted at smiling. That was as close as she’d get to preening under his compliment.
“Did I not give ya the ability to breathe fire?” he pointed out.
She grumbled. “That is not true fire. Nor do I like that you cast some spell on me.”
Unappreciative female. “Ya will never breathe it as Daegan does, but ya will have that weapon on occasion.”
“Not often enough.”
He would not continue that argument. They were finally talking, but it always seemed to take so much effort to get to this point. Getting back to his reason for this visit, h
e said, “I have somethin’ for ya ta read. It’s in Latin, the language you were taught, but I also brought books in today’s English.”
“You what?” she asked as if she had not heard correctly.
“Books and women magazines. I need ya ta be able ta read text on things from signs ta news material.”
Her mulish expression turned darker. “Tell me when we will go back to that archival research centre to see if they have anything on the Treoirs. Someone hid from us in the back of that building.”
Shaking his head, he commented, “Ya almost exposed yar power there. Everything I do is for a reason and my plan is not ta be taken lightly.” He’d only gone to the ancestral research centre in County Galway to see if the dark druids he’d consulted had been correct about a woman named Luigsech who could read text from before the time of dragons. If so, she would know of the Dragani War. He’d expected to find a descendant of the Luigsech squire family of King Gruffyn.
Not a mysterious woman hiding from him.
“What plan?” Brynhild shouted. “We left empty-handed.”
He would not tell Brynhild everything. His plan had been simple. Confirm who Luigsech was, then come back to kidnap her and hold her prisoner until the time came to use the woman to lure Daegan into the perfect trap.
To push this cranky ice dragon shifter off track, he said, “The one hidin’ from us surprised me. I suspect the one who did not show her face while we spoke to the Fenella woman was either the Luigsech female or she knows how we can find her. Would ya have me demand ta see her that first time and scare her off?” The hidden woman had run, but she would be back.
He was sure of it.
If she’d feared a threat at her door, she would not have left Fenella there. He’d discovered the two had been close for many years.
So Luigsech went to see someone. Who?
He could not wait to return and confirm if that missing person was indeed the Luigsech he hunted. He couldn’t take this unmanageable dragon shifter with him until she pulled her act together, because Brynhild had come close to blowing that moment when she became demanding with Fenella.