Báirseach- the Midding Gate

by V B Gilbert

  A sharp whistle pierces the air, then the sound of muffled hoof beats rumble across the ground. The sound has us looking in Cathmor’s direction. Three horses come into view and slow before him, reins trailing through the snow.

  “We have a decision to make. Ciaran released the horses, these are the only ones who have come back.” Cathmor walks towards us leading the horses. “We can hitch the wagon and one of us rides. Or we take essentials and make better time on horseback.”

  I’ve been staring into the fire as he is speaking, and when I lift my head, I find all three men’s eyes on me. Oh! They’re letting me make the decision.

  “Firehaven. We go to Firehaven on the horses, we need to catch up to Ciaran.”

  Before the men can move, there’s a great flapping of wings, a burst of wind, and Onyx lands beside the lake. It’s a clumsy landing, and he stumbles forward several steps before stopping much closer to where we stand by the fire. The reason for his awkwardness is immediately clear.

  Safe within his claws are the dragon eggs.

  14

  I found something positive about having a bondmate. Egan is a blacksmith. This is fortuitous, since we need new carriers for the eggs. Ciaran may not have been able to take the eggs, but he took the metal cylinders that we used to transport them.

  Murphy and I sort through the items on the wagon, while Egan works on new carriers. We make piles of what we need (food, my leathers for hatching the dragons), what we find useful (tools, tent), and things we can leave behind (duplicates, the wagon). Then we start making up three bags, one to be carried by each horse.

  “Why are you separating the items?” Cathmor’s sudden appearance surprises a shriek out of me.

  “Three horses, three riders — we can each take a bag.” I buckle my saddle bag and carry it to the horse I’ve chosen for my mount.

  Cathmor’s response is disbelieving. “Three? There are four of us. Onyx and I can carry quite a lot.”

  Resting my head on my saddle, I shake my head. “I assumed you and Onyx would return to Lámhach.” Silence greets me.

  Straightening, I look fully at Cathmor. He’s standing with his hands on his hips, head turned toward the lake, brows pulled down.

  When he speaks I can barely hear him, it’s almost as though he’s speaking to himself. “You don’t know.” His sudden turn and intense stare make me stumble back until the saddle bag digs into my spine.

  This time his voice is louder and demanding. “You don’t know, do you? You’re not. . . . You haven’t . . .” Pinching the bridge of his nose, he continues, “I owe you an apology, Daisy.”

  “Sage. The name’s Sage.” Seriously, I think I have a pretty easy name to remember.

  “Do you not remember me? You were probably three when your da left you to stay with my folks. Your mam was sick, and they worried about you. Do you not remember?”

  “No. But if I was three, I know the time you are talking about. My mam wasn’t just sick, my baby brother, Keefe, was stillborn, and Mam hemorrhaged. I think I was too young to remember details clearly. I only know what I've been told.” I try to remember that time of my life, but I only recall the oppressive grief that reigned in our house that summer. But daisies — I remember daisies.

  Peering up at the large man in front of me I squint my eyes, trying to remember him. ”I remember that was the summer I learned to make daisy chains.”

  ”Aye.” Cathmor’s eyes travel from my face to the top of my head. ”I was six, and I would make you crowns. I tried everything to keep you from crying. You were miserable being away from your family.”

  ”If you knew . . . know who I am, why have you been so rude and dismissive towards me?” I can't make sense of his behavior.

  Cathmor sighs, and his breath ruffles my bangs before he searches my eyes. For what, I don't know.

  ”Our folks have always wanted us to marry. It's one of the reasons my da wanted us to move to Lámhach. Have your parents not ever mentioned it?”

  “Oh, my da might have mentioned you a time or two. But he just wanted us to meet. He never mentioned marriage,” I reply.

  Cathmor admits, ”I thought this was all an elaborate ruse to force us together. But it's not, is it?”

  ”No. No, just a misguided boyfriend, who is doing something dangerous to get a dragon.” Carefully easing around him, I remark, ”Besides, no Warlock will marry a Mundane. What could I possibly contribute to a marriage?”

  ”Daisy, you don't believe that do you?”

  Giving a little fake laugh, I speed up, ”Of course, I believe it. It's the truth. Don’t act like you don’t believe it, too. I’ve been on the receiving end of your derision for all things Mundane.”

  “Daisy, I . . . feck! Just because I don’t want to marry doesn’t mean there’s not a man out there for you. For Goddess’s sake, two men agreed to bind with you.”

  “A binding is not romance, it’s not marriage. That’s the truth of the matter.” Goddess, I really don’t want to talk about this.

  ”What's the truth?” Murphy is walking from his horse to the fire and giving Cathmor and me a curious glance.

  ”Daisy, sorry Sage, doesn't think anyone would want to marry her.” Cathmor is hard on my heels as he answers Murphy.

  ”What? Fecking hell, Love, what put that notion into your head?” Now Murphy's striding closer, gaze fixed on my face.

  ”I know. Cathmor was saying that our parents want us to marry, and I was pointing out the obvious — how ridiculous that is. I mean I'm a Witch without powers. Who wants that? Who wants me? Ciaran proves that guys only hang out with me because of the dragons. It’s all just . . .” I wave my arms around and stop mid-sentence.

  Eager to end this discussion, I hurry to the fire to check on the eggs. Talk of marriage makes me uncomfortable. The familiar ache of rejection pinches my chest. I've always known that I would live my life to work and care for the dragons. I thought I'd resigned myself to it, but having bondmates gives birth to new heartaches. We’re bound for life. I'll have to watch Egan and Murphy fall in love, marry, and have children — perhaps I'll be the eccentric aunt, teaching the children about dragons, making them daisy chains when they visit.

  This is all so overwhelming. There's a reason I prefer to be on the fringes. I dislike confrontation and I get — itchy — when people get too close. I don't know how to deal with attention.

  Scurrying past the fire where Egan’s working, I bury my face in Onyx's expansive chest. The dragon settles lower to the ground and crosses his forelegs together, making a haven for me to shelter in. The sunlight is blocked out as with a dry rustle, he unfurls his wings and closes me in.

  ”What did you . . .?”

  ”You. . . . Insulting her. . . .Two days . . .”

  “. . . misunderstanding. . . . Apologized. . . .”

  ”Not good enough. . . .”

  Only snippets of their argument float into my haven. Cocooned within Onyx’s wings, I take several breaths. I can do this. Get the eggs to Firehaven. Find Ciaran and discover why he wants wild dragon eggs. It might be uncomfortable traveling with Egan, and Murphy, but if I set my mind to it, I can do it.

  “Daisy, come out. Onyx, open up.” Cathmor’s deep voice is just the other side of the dragon’s wings.

  Taking several deep breaths, I stand and tap Onyx’s breast. ”You can let me out now. I'm okay. Thank you for letting me hide for just a minute.”

  With a whoosh, Onyx spreads his wings then with a flutter sets them flat against his back. Cathmor stands before me, one hand covering his mouth, one on his hip regarding me.

  “Daisy.”

  “My. Name. Is. Sage.” Pushing past him, I take several steps before I realize Egan and Murphy are warily watching me approach.

  I can feel my cheeks heating, so I lift my hood to hide my blush. Pulling on my gloves, I address Egan, ”Are the carriers ready?”

  Egan tilts his head to the side, inspecting what little of my face he can see, ”Yes, it’s ready for
you.” He speaks slowly and softly. Rising, he rounds the fire ring and stands just in front of me.

  Cradled in his hands is a large carrier, and it shows me just how talented he is. He only had to make three metal cylinders. Instead, he shows me one carrier with three separate slots. Along the sides and the handle are metal leaves; sage leaves, decoratively placed in an attractive pattern. Each closure is essentially a hasp, but he has molded them to resemble a bundle of sage.

  Pushing my hood back, Egan looks into my eyes. ”We would very much like . . .” He clears his throat and glances at Murphy, who steps up beside him. ”It would please us if you would accept this gift and grant us permission to court you. If you are concerned, we gained permission from your da before we left.”

  Speechless, I stare at him then down to the carrier. Hesitantly, I take the gift from Egan then search his eyes. He's serious. Slightly turning my head to the left, I peek at Murphy. He’s smiling and nodding at me.

  “Is this? Is this a joke? Or . . . do you feel obligated because of the binding?” Frowning at the men, my heart skips a beat, thinking they are making fun of me.

  Murphy brushes by Egan and takes the carrier from me, handing it back to my other bondmate. Gathering my hands in his, he gives me an earnest look. “Sage, Love. I asked your da months ago at Midsummer. I was waiting . . . hoping . . . that things would not work out with Ciaran.” Brushing a gloved hand over my cheek, he takes a step closer. “Renny did not lie. I’ve loved you for a long time, Sage. Magic or no, I think you are a powerful woman. Everything you do, you accomplish without magic. That makes you more accomplished in my eyes. It always has.”

  Egan takes my free hand and just as earnestly states, “I’ve seen how hard life is for my cousin Jasmine as a Mundane. She’s a wonderful woman, but she’s bitter and angry all the time. You’re not like that. You embrace who you are, and I will admit the bonding is part of why I want to court you.” He tightens his grip when I go to pull away. “Not because I feel obligated, but because when I tied that ribbon on your wrist, it felt right. And when you asked me to spell it, all I could think was that I wanted to keep you. I’ll forever be thankful the Goddess granted my wish.”

  Nodding, I grip their hands, “I-I believe you. Both of you. But . . . I need time to . . . adjust. So much has happened in the last couple of days. Life-changing things. But we can talk more as we travel?”

  Broad smiles cover my bondmates’ faces as they nod their agreement.

  A loud clap sounds behind me. Cathmor. I’d forgotten about Cathmor.

  “Well, now that Daisy is reassured that she is, indeed, wanted, let’s pack up and get on the road.” Cathmor strides past, grabs the carrier, then waits by the fire ring, pointing at the eggs. “Do you want to do the honors or have Onyx lift them?”

  “You’re coming with us?” Confused, I stalk over to the fire and pull my gloves on.

  “It’s what I do, Daisy.”

  “Sage.” Why won’t he call me by my name?

  “Your job is to tend the dragons and the eggs. I’m an Enforcer for the covens. Mine is to carry out justice. And I believe, Daisy, that your ex-boyfriend definitely has some things to answer for.”

  15

  Once the decision to move is made, you would think it would be a quick departure. But we did not count on an ornery dragon.

  The dragon allows us to load him down with supplies, but when Cathmor tries to climb up, Onyx side steps. He, in fact, steps in such a fashion that I can’t approach my horse.

  “Onyx! We need to be on the road. You must allow me to climb on.” Cathmor’s frustration is echoed in his bellow as he makes demands of his dragon.

  “Perhaps he would rather Sage rides him? He did follow her here, after all.” Egan offers this suggestion, watching in bemusement as Cathmor and I dance around the dragon and are getting nowhere.

  At his words, Onyx lays beside me, one purple eye staring at me with determination. With unsure steps, I look up the vast side of the dragon. “Is that what you want, Onyx?”

  Cathmor grunts as the dragon’s tail prevents him from getting close. “I’m just going to lift her up, you stubborn creature.”

  Relenting, Onyx lets Cathmor by. With steady hands, Cathmor lifts me by the waist and directs, “Sit between his spine ridges. One more back, so you’re not accidentally hit by his wing.”

  After I’m situated, with a bit of fear about the height — and we’re still on the ground — Cathmor heads towards my mount. His stride is heavier than usual and he’s flexing his hands. He can’t get close to my horse, though. Onyx deters him.

  “What now?” Cathmor faces down his dragon, spine straight, hands on his hips and a scowl on his face. It’s evident he’s not happy that Onyx wants me to be his rider.

  Onyx’s tail whips out, grabs Cathmor and drops him behind me.

  Twisting around, I watch as Cathmor stands on the dragon’s back and situates himself behind me. I’m acutely aware of his thighs lined up behind mine and his chest nestled up against my back.

  Taking a deep breath to steady my nerves, I smell . . . earth? Dirt? “Cathmor, why do you smell like my garden?”

  “Do you know nothing of plant magic? I have live vines in my pocket. I need a base for my magic.” We jostle against each other as Onyx rises to his full height.

  “Alright then, Love?” Murphy yells up at me as he gathers the reins of my mount and ties them to his saddle.

  “I’ll have to be won’t I? Unless you’d like to argue with a dragon?” I give him a wave and try to find a comfortable position. “Head east around the lake. The path to Firehaven will be marked. Hopefully, Onyx will keep us in eyesight as we travel.”

  That’s all the conversation the dragon allows as he jumps and with a huge sweep of his wings launches us into the sky. The motion pushes me back into Cathmor, who in turn wraps an arm around my waist and grips the dragon’s spinal ridge in front of me.

  “Feck! Hold on, Daisy. Onyx’s movements are large, and he can easily throw us off if you’re not holding on.”

  Is he kidding? I don’t want to fall off! With a gulp, I look down and see the lake growing smaller underneath us as Onyx loops around and around gaining altitude. Egan and Murphy are riding at a fast clip to the east, occasionally hazarding worried glances at us.

  Soon, we’re gliding in a zig-zag pattern, the dragon doing his best not to outpace the riders. And it’s the best feeling in the world. My stomach has a tingly feeling that is not unpleasant. My cheeks are starting to hurt because I can’t stop the smile that is affixed to my face, as well as from the biting wind chafing my skin.

  We’re making good time when I see an unfamiliar glimmer ahead, at the juncture of the lake and the start of the road to Firehaven. Squinting, I fight the glare that is now shining off the . . . wall. An ice wall!!!

  “Cathmor!!! Get Onyx to turn, or stop, or something!” Screaming, I watch in horror as the wall of ice looms larger and larger in front of us. The form stretches out in either direction as far as I can see.

  “I don’t see anything.” Cathmor is leaning over me and pounding with a fist on Onyx’s shoulder blade.

  With horror, I scramble for a handhold as Onyx halts mid-flight, perpendicular to the ground forcing Cathmor and me to lean forward. There’s a terrible drumming sound as the dragon’s extended wings catch air to halt our forward progression, and then a massive gust of wind crosses over his back as Onyx levels out and turns abruptly to the left. My body tumbles to the right and out of Cathmor’s grasp.

  And then, I’m weightless. My shriek is lost in the awful screech as Onyx’s claw on his right wing scrapes against the wall. I fall back against Onyx’s side before his hind leg clips me and sends me into the barrier. My cheek burns against the frozen ice before I bounce off and I am free falling. Closing my eyes against the wind, I'm only aware of my pulse pounding a rapid beat in my ears. My mouth dries out as I continue to yell.

  Suddenly, I’m jerked, and I feel a tightness around m
y arms and torso. I finally dare to open my eyes. Two thick vines hang before me, and I track their length to Cathmor. He’s straddling Onyx’s tail both hands out, directing the vines to me and yelling.

  “Bind and Stay! So mote it be!”

  As I feel the vines tighten, I feel the words building in my throat. They want to come out. “Mmmph.” Biting my lips, I deny the words that I feel compelled to say. Blood fills my mouth and tears burn my eyes as I fight the binding spell. I can’t be bound to Cathmor. I won’t. He would hate me.

  Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Cathmor reels me in as Onyx drifts lower and lower to the ground. Cathmor has just grasped me in his arms when Onyx lands, and we roll off his tail onto the hard rocks of the road.

  Gasping for breath, I lay on top of Cathmor. The retreat of the vines hisses across my body until it’s just Cathmor’s arms around me. He has one arm around my back, a hand on the back of my head, pressing it to his chest. His heart is pounding just as quick as mine, and he’s trembling.

  “I thought I lost you, Daisy. I almost didn’t get the vines out in time. It was so close. Too close.” His grip tightens, and he sits up keeping me in his hold, so I’m straddling his lap.

  With far gentler hands than I attributed to the big man, Cathmor holds my head in both hands. Sorrow fills his green eyes as he scans my face. “You’re bleeding. We need . . .” There’s a hitch in his speech before he clears his throat and continues. “Can you stand? We need to get you cleaned up and bandage your cheek.”

  Except he doesn’t let me up. He just continues to stare at me, and once again, I find myself engulfed in his arms. His words whisper across my hair, “I don’t . . . I can’t lose you.”

  16

  Lunch is held on the side of the road around a small fire Egan magicked up. Each of us is staring in the direction of the wall, though only I can see it. Even several yards away, the ice wall shimmers and glints in the sun.