by V B Gilbert
“There’s a gash visible way up there where Onyx skimmed it, and I think that’s your blood a little lower down.” Cathmor points up and to the left with his piece of jerky, where a splash of blood is hanging, seemingly in mid-air. “You’re lucky you only got a couple of scrapes the way you slid off it.”
The others may be looking where I luckily just scraped the ice, but I’m studying the ground. There is no demarcation visible where the ice meets the road. “How could anyone even spell something that large?” I ask hoarsely, still strained from my screaming.
“Runes. Or a spelled object to anchor it. How far up could you see, Sage? Do you think we can fly over it?” Egan tosses his apple core to his horse and advances on the wall, one gloved hand held out.
“I only got the barest glimpse of what was above before I panicked, but I don’t think we can fly over.” Standing, I wince at the ache in my ribs and left leg. Between bouncing off of Onyx and the vines jerking on me, I am covered in abrasions and red spots that will surely be bruises in the morning.
Striding past Egan, I stop at the wall and run my hand across it. “It’s smooth and cold. Can you feel it?”
The men gather and place their hands on the wall. Or at least that’s what they attempt, because their hands go straight through. Egan actually stumbles forward and turning quickly stares at me from the other side.
Murphy and Cathmor each start to step through, but I put my arms out, holding them back. “Egan, can you come back across?”
Anticipating a barrier, Egan puts his hand through first before striding back to this side. “There’s definitely a ward up. I felt the cold as I walked through.”
With both hands, I bang on the barrier. No! “It’s Ciaran’s spell or something like it. You can go through, but I can’t.” I drop to my knees and think every bad word I’ve ever learned. “Feck! I can’t even send you across with the eggs. The pools hold some kind of magic. The eggs have to be walked in because the carrier will melt.”
“Do we have time to send for a council member? If Onyx and I fly back to Lámhach and bring back an Elder, perhaps they can bring this down if we can’t?” I watch as Cathmor paces, hands behind his head, problem-solving.
“I don’t know.” Sitting back on my bottom, I curl my knees up to my chest and watch as Murphy walks through the barrier and back. “The hatching’s already been delayed, and they’ve been in and out of fire more than I’ve tried doing before. I don’t even know if they’re viable anymore.”
When Egan sees the tears coursing down my cheeks, he settles behind me and wraps me in his arms. Closing my eyes, I wipe my tears and straighten my legs. They’re sore from my near-death experience, and I attempt to find a comfortable position.
“Daisy!”
“Sage!”
“Love! Look at your foot! Is it past the barrier?” Murphy squats by my foot, which is becoming increasingly numb and waves his hand over the space. “It’s actually in the ward, isn’t it? I can feel where the temperature changes just above your foot.”
Egan jumps up to inspect, and immediately, my foot feels constricted and pain radiates up my leg. Hissing through the pain, I try to retract my foot. “It’s stuck! I’m stuck in the ward.”
Cathmor grabs my shoulder, “Try now.”
Pulling at my leg with both hands I clench my teeth and grit out, “It’s still stuck.”
“The bond! Move, Cathmor. It takes our bond.” Murphy lowers his hand to my foot and immediately the pressure eases. “I think Egan or I can pull her through the barrier with the power of our bond. Cathmor, see if Onyx can come through with yours.”
Shaking his head, Cathmor disputes this reasoning. “He would have gone through earlier if that was the case.”
“Not necessarily. He was carrying Sage who isn’t bonded to either of you. If you had fallen instead of Sage, you most likely would have flown through the ward on your own.” Egan eyes the dragon and the horses, both still by our fire. “We can only try Cathmor. We all need to get through.”
We return to the fire, where Egan extinguishes it, and we load up our supplies. Approaching the ice wall, Egan and Murphy attempt to go through with the horses. The blacksmith and his horse travel through, but Murphy gets stuck when the eggs are stuck on this side.
Untying the carrier from Murphy’s saddle, he continues on, and I watch as they secure their horses. When they return we all stare at the metal housing in my hands.
“Now what?” I ask.
“Hand me the eggs, Daisy.” Cathmor reaches for the carrier then places a kiss on my temple. “Walk through with your bondmates. I think Onyx can carry the eggs through. The eggs should have some sort of bond with the dragon, aye?”
Hope bubbles in my chest that we might all make it through the ward. Together, we walk to the wall. Cathmor keeps one hand on his dragon, and they easily pass to the other side, eggs included.
Murphy and Egan each grab one of my hands, placing arms around me, and we slowly move forward. Shivers attack me as we enter the ward, and I strain against the thick, syrupy feeling of the ward. I’m completely within it when I realize I’m stuck. I can’t take another step forward.
My bondmates tug, but it’s no use. I can’t cross over. The ward is too thick for me to walk through and too strong for Egan and Murphy to pull me out. My chest heaves as the ward fights me, and spots appear before my eyes the more I strain.
Helplessly, I stare at Cathmor on the other side and time seems to slow. Each breath is harder to take than the one before. Egan and Murphy stand at my sides, legs spread wide. Each has a hand behind my back pushing and another hand on my biceps pulling.
Cathmor stretches his hands out and vines crawl up out of his pockets, around his arms, and then they are slithering around my body. Leaning back, his muscles bulge against the strain.
Bind and Stay. So mote it Be!
The magic he instills into the vines crashes like a wave over me and again the urge to complete the binding washes over me. Biting hard against my already ragged lips, I hold the words in.
“What are you doing, Daisy? What’s she doing?” Even as Cathmor yells, I can feel myself slogging forward.
“She’s fighting the binding! This is exactly how she and I became bound, her reversing and stating the spell!” Murphy hollers back before telling me. “Let it out Love. Don’t deny the Goddess.”
Shaking my head, I bite harder and scream behind my lips. Slowly, the men get me through the border, and I collapse on the ground, panting heavily, blood trickling out of my mouth.
Cathmor jerks me off of the ground, roughly wiping the blood from my lips. “Stupid girl! Why were you fighting it?!”
Egan and Murphy jump forward to separate us, but Cathmor spins us out of their reach and shakes me. “Why, Daisy? Why?!”
Weakly, I push fruitlessly against Cathmor. “Because you don’t want me! You don’t like Mundanes! You would hate me if we were bound.” Hiccuping through my tears, I wail, “I don’t want to be bound to a man who would hate me for the rest of my life!”
Cathmor shudders, gripping my arms tighter before gathering me gently into his arms. “Oh, Daisy. I don’t hate you.” Rubbing small circles across my back, Cathmor tilts his head down and whispers in my ear, “I don’t hate you. I don’t dislike Mundanes. I was pushing you away. You deserve more than a man who is away more often than he is home as a mate.”
What?
With one hand, Cathmor tilts my chin up and gives me a sad smile. “I’ve been in love with you since I was six years old. Once I became an Enforcer and I had business in Lámhach, I would see you. Always watching from the Midding Gate. I saw the way the kids loved you and the villagers would wave and smile when they passed you. I saw you, Daisy. My Daisy.” Cradling my cheek, he leans closer until all I see are his green eyes staring deeply into mine. “I don’t want to hurt your poor lips, but I’m going to kiss you now.”
Confused, I nod my head ‘okay’ and with my pulse-pounding and butterflies figh
ting in my stomach, I allow the big, arrogant jerk to kiss me.
His lips brush first one corner of my lips, then the other, before placing a firm but brief kiss upon my mouth. Pulling back, he scans my face looking for my reaction, but I think I’m in shock, and I can only stare back.
“I haven’t talked with your da, but I think he’d approve. Will you allow me to court you as well?”
17
“I think you broke her,” Murphy lobs that accusation to Cathmor.
“I didn’t break her. Did I, Daisy?” Cathmor gives my waist a little squeeze from where he’s seated behind me on my horse. I say behind me, but I’m really positioned over his thighs, we wouldn’t have both fit on the horse otherwise.
Onyx decided no one would ride him. He is flying in spurts above us, landing every now and then to inspect a pond for fish or to chase butterflies in a field. Yes, the big dragon was trying to sneak up on butterflies.
“She’s not usually very chatty, but she’s never silent like this.” Egan pulls alongside us and peers down at me. “You broke her.”
“Feck off.” Cathmor’s hand disappears from my waist, and in my peripheral vision, I see him give Egan a shove. “I didn’t break her.”
Tuning in to the conversation, I say what I’ve been puzzling over since we crossed the ward.
“How did Ciaran get through? He’s not bonded, and his magic is bound. So, he couldn’t have walked through nor could he have set the ward.”
The silence from the men is instant. The ring of hooves on stone and the jangle of the harnesses is all that can be heard as they digest the conundrum.
“Feck! He has help. Whatever he’s up to, he has a Warlock or Witch helping him.” Cathmor reins our mount to a stop and jumps off, which makes me land hard in the saddle.
“Ow. Bruised woman here. Aren’t you supposed to be wooing me or something?” Grumpily, I rub my sore bottom.
Cathmor rolls his eyes and starts pacing.
“Think, Sage. What could he want? He wants a dragon but not one of the three eggs we have. Are there other dragons near Firehaven?” Egan has dismounted and taken hold of my reins. Standing beside me, he lays a hand on my thigh.
Furrowing my brow, I look down at him, then eye the other two. “Of course, there are other dragons. Larger, and more dangerous dragons. The great reds are fire breathers. They live at the top of the volcano. But trying to get one of their eggs is almost impossible.”
“Impossible or improbable?” Egan gains my attention with his question.
“Very, very improbable.” With Egan's help, I clamber down, feeling every bruise and scrape my body has incurred today. “The closer you get to the volcano, the more hostile the air. Sulfur is emitted and can kill you. I’m not sure you could reach their aerie even with magic. If the sulfur doesn’t kill you, the heat will.”
“There’s something else. There has to be.” Murphy motions everyone off of the road and into an adjoining field. “We bundled his things together. I didn’t see anything interesting when I was packing it, but let’s go through it all.”
Egan and Cathmor are rummaging through the scant belongings Ciaran left behind. Murphy and I have decided to go hunting for dinner. We’re in a valley between the mountains, hunting small game.
“There.” Whispering, I stop Murphy and aim for the twitching ears rising above the grass. There’s a soft twang as I let my arrow fly, swiftly followed by another as Murphy spots a second set of ears, just to the left.
Wild hare is not my favorite meat. But we need the fresh game; jerky and unleavened bread make for a poor diet. Advancing on the bodies, I slide my knife from my boot and start skinning the coarse-haired animal. Murphy and I have hunted together since we were in our teens and have a routine. Side by side, we gut the hares, leaving the innards and heads for other animals, we take the hearts for Onyx.
Bundling the meaty hares, Murphy sets them to the side then starts twirling a finger over my palms. Water gathers, and I’m able to wash off my hands. After doing the same for himself, Murphy picks up our dinner, then clasps my hand in his and leads us back to the side of the road.
“How are you really, Love?” he asks.
“Confused. I thought I knew what my life was — is — but the past three days have. . . . I’m having a hard time believing . . .” Flustered I wave my hand around, “I keep thinking I’m going to wake up. That this is all just a wild dream.” Raising my hand to the bandage on my cheek, I confess, “If not for the aches and pains, I could imagine that I’m still sleeping in my bed. Safe and sure of life in Lámhach.”
Murphy pulls me closer and still holding my hand guides them behind my back. “Is it a bad dream?” Concern shines from his teal eyes as he scans my face.
Lifting my free hand to his collar, I finger the frayed edges. “No. There are some bad portions, but you and Egan and even Cathmor make it good. Great, even. Unbelievable, but great.” I try a smile, and because it’s Murphy, I rise onto my toes and place a kiss on his lips.
It was meant to be a swift, friendly kiss, but Murphy hauls me higher and presses a warm, firm mouth against mine, sucking my lower lip in between his. The hares land with a thump on the ground as he releases them to free his hand.
Tingles run through my body as he cups my cheek in his hand and licks the seam of my lips. When I gasp, he takes advantage of the moment and deepens the kiss.
I run my hands into the back of his hair, pulling, arching into him, wanting to sink into him. With a groan, Murphy grips my thighs and secures me around his hips. His trousers do nothing to hide his arousal, and for a moment, I forget everything. Ciaran, the eggs, my bruised body — it all fades away as I’m focused solely on my bondmate and the heat rising in my body.
Dimly, I hear a cough and a chuckle. Panting, Murphy slows the kiss and rests his forehead on mine. When I open my eyes, I take a deep breath to steady my heart, and I realize Egan is standing beside us. With a smile, he tugs on my ponytail and whispers, “I’m sorry to disturb you. We need to eat and get on the road.”
Lowering me to the ground, Murphy growls at Egan, “You’re not sorry. Jealous perhaps, but not sorry.” Giving me a gentle smile, he sets me away from him and starts adjusting our clothes. Somehow, he’d managed to untuck my undershirt and release the laces at my neck. Murphy is likewise disheveled, and I blush when I notice at some point, I’d completely unbuttoned his shirt, and his muscled chest is on full display.
Egan smirks and gathers me to his side. “Not jealous. Mo Chroí appears very . . . happy. I don’t have a problem sharing her with you.” Speaking low in my ear, he states, just for me, “Don’t be embarrassed, we’re already sharing a bond. If you want Murphy, or me or Cathmor . . . or all of us . . . I’m willing to do what it takes to keep you happy.”
On that note, we return to Cathmor. Murphy with a very proud grin on his face, Egan and I walking hand in hand. Cathmor studies my flushed face and swollen lips, then glances between Egan and Murphy. “Doing well then, Daisy?”
Lifting my eyes to meet his, I make a show of fixing my hair and doing up the laces of my shirt. “Very well. Thank you for asking, Cathmor.”
Ciaran’s items are tossed haphazardly on the ground, but from here I can see a bit of paper in Cathmor’s hand. He offers it to me with a carefully blank expression, “Does this make sense to you?”
The scrap of paper is ragged on the edge, like it was torn from a book. It contains a short list.
Bond with Sage
Travel to Firehaven
Gather elementals
Spell - bond
Council
Tracing the familiar writing, I read the list three times. “Elementals? Does he need the three elements for a spell? Is it a special bonding spell?” Tapping the last item I slant the scrap, so Cathmor can see it, “And this? Council? Does this mean the council knows what he’s doing?”
“I know what he’s doing.” Murphy’s sure voice is brimming with anger, “There’s a legend — a folktale,
really, about three powerful elemental dragons. It has many versions, but because he mentioned the bonding. . . . There is only one that has a bonding requirement.
“A Warlock and his bondmate must travel together through fire to acquire the mythical dragon eggs. A sacrifice must be made before the eggs can be touched. Presumably, great power is transferred to the holder of the eggs.” Shaking his head Murphy laughs, “I’m not sure if I even remember the details correctly. Ciaran's a fool, chasing a child’s tale.”
Rereading the list, fear grips my heart. “He wants the dragons for power. The only reason he would include the council . . . he wouldn’t try to overthrow the council would he?”
“I think that’s exactly what he wants. If he truly believes the tale . . .,” Cathmor stops and stares into the fire, “He has just become a very dangerous individual.”
18
Our conversation goes round and round as we prepare and eat dinner. The truth of the matter is that we won’t know for sure what’s going through Ciaran’s mind until we catch up with him.
We eat quickly, packing up to make the most of the daylight. Sunset is still hours away, but on a normal trip, we would have already been in Firehaven. Cathmor takes the lead, two swords crossed behind his back and knives tucked in various holsters on his thighs and wrists. Now he looks like the Enforcer that I would see at a distance occasionally in Lámhach.
I'm doubled up with Murphy, enjoying the way his biceps rub against mine as he confidently holds the reins in one hand. His other hand rests carelessly across my thigh. His thighs bunch occasionally beneath mine, as he uses his knees to control the animal below us. It's intimate and comforting within his hold, and I continue to remind myself to be vigilant of danger.
Egan rides up beside us, cloak discarded as the weather warms the closer we travel to Firehaven. “Have you seen Onyx? I've noticed Cathmor searching the skies, but the beast has not been in view since dinner.”