by V B Gilbert
>You are Báirseach. The Dragon Witch.<
What does that mean?
>It is to you that we, the dragons, owe fealty. Because of you, our powerful offspring shall rise. You and the Three shall be the keepers.<
Which offspring? The eggs I brought to Firehaven?
>Your bonding changed them, your powers combined have brought forth Edan, Casey, and Moriarity. Your mates have already named them. The first step to their bonding.<
Whose bonding? I don’t understand. Frustrated, trying to make sense of Onyx’s words increases the pressure and headache pounding my head.
>Rest, Báirseach. We’ll talk more when you’re rested.<
Closing my eyes again, I sigh. I’m so tired. Then I’ll figure out what’s going on. Just a rest, that’s all I need. Just a little longer.
My right shoulder aches, as does most of my body.
Slowly, tentatively, I open my eyes. I raise my head, but the movement sends a sharp stab of pain radiating up my spine and into my brain.
Looking up, the familiar timber ceiling of the house in Firehaven swims into view. Confused, I side-eye the other side of the room, to see greenery . . . as well as Egan and Murphy. They must have dragged a couch into the room, they are asleep leaning on each other. Murphy has his arm balanced on the armrest, palm up, a ball of water floating above his hand.
Even in his sleep, he is creating a mist. But why?
With a groan, I push up with my elbows. I manage to sit up on the side of the bed, but even that small movement has made me dizzy.
Steps sound in the hall, and my large blond-haired Enforcer enters. He looks exhausted, hair loose around his shoulders and deep-purple smudges under his eyes. He’s carrying two bowls in one arm, and a kettle in the other, his attention fixated on not spilling whatever is sloshing in the bowls.
“Hey, Cathmor.” I speak softly, my throat is dry, and that’s all I’m able to get out, but it’s enough to startle the man.
One bowl crashes to the floor, before he regains his equilibrium. He haphazardly places the other bowl and kettle on the table by the bed before rushing to my side, ignoring the broken crockery on the floor.
“Daisy.” Cathmor’s voice is husky as he kneels before me. He wraps his arms around my waist, burying his head in my lap. “Lass, I am so relieved you’re awake.”
As I run my hands through his hair, Egan and Murphy wake. The fear on their faces morphs into relief when they see me.
“Mo Chroí.”
“Love.”
They take seats on either side of me, engulfing me on each side.
“Water?” I croak.
Murphy reaches over to the side and pours some water in an earthen-ware cup. Reaching for it, the sleeve of the shirt I’m wearing slips away from my arm. I hesitantly push my sleeve further up to see a vine tattoo entwined around my wrist.
Letting the fabric fall back, I take the cup and drink. Once my throat is not as dry, I look at the man at my feet. “Cathmor? The bonding worked?”
Sitting back, the large man wipes his eyes with his sleeve and nods. “It did. It-it was close, but the bond took, and . . .,” he pauses and looks at the other men before continuing, “and then a red dragon plucked you up and flew you to safety.”
I sip more water before speaking. “I think one of you needs to tell me what happened.”
Egan opens his mouth, but I hold a hand up. “But first I need to know, what happened with Lennon and Ciaran?”
“Lennon is dead. He expended too much energy on his magic, and in his weakened state, could not withstand the dangers of the volcano.” Murphy’s voice is filled with anger when he answers. “Ciaran is healing. We have him bound in your old room. He’ll need to answer to the council.”
“My hatchlings?” I was dreading that answer. They were stunted when I was taken, and I’m not even sure how long it’s been since that point.
Cathmor clears his throat, “We’re not sure. You’ve been unconscious since yesterday. We’ve taken turns to go to the pools and feed them.” He hesitates, “We think, maybe, that they’re the elemental dragons from the book.”
“What?” Astounded I look at each of my men in turn. “What do you mean?” Then I remember what I thought was a dream. Onyx speaking to me.
“The three hatchlings have grown. They . . .” Cathmor pauses, then stands and heads for the door, “You’ll need to see for yourself.”
Egan takes Cathmor’s place and looks up earnestly. “We knew when you were taken. Murphy and I could feel you moving away from us at a fast clip. We followed but not fast enough. While we could sense your general direction, we couldn’t find you.” From his downcast eyes and pulled-down lips, it’s obvious there is some guilt for being unable to find me.
“Lennon was using a cloaking spell. He only released it if we were camping in a cave.” I infuse my explanation with as much comfort as I can. “You can’t be to blame for not finding me sooner.”
“Blame or no, we almost lost you. We were too slow. My heart stopped when I saw you climbing down towards the lava. If it wasn’t for the dragon. . . . I never thought I’d see a red dragon that close. We saw the vines snap back at Cathmor and saw you fall backward.” Egan grips my hands tightly. “The dragon swooped in and plucked you and Ciaran up, then left you on the ground by Onyx.”
“That explains how I didn’t die, but what’s all this?” I point to the foliage and mist.
“You were having trouble breathing. Our combined healing only did so much. We had steam in here with Egan’s help, and the plants were to freshen the air.” Murphy runs an unsteady hand over his hair, “You were . . . you were burned in places, the mist was — is — to help the healing.”
Murphy tips me closer into his chest before answering. “As soon as your bonding with Cathmor took, I — we — could feel your pain. It’s how we knew how to heal you. We could tell what ails you. Besides the burns and your lungs, your arm was dislocated when Cathmor tried to yank you back up to the path.”
“I’m better now. I still ache, but I’m alive thanks to all of you. You said Lennon is dead. How is Ciaran faring?” The angry, petty side of me hopes that he’s in pain. But no matter how disillusioned I am with the man, I don’t want him dead.
“He’s much the same as you. We healed you both the same, but he’s bound to his bed.” Egan turns at the sound of footsteps on the stairs. “Cathmor is returning.”
Cathmor enters the room with small colored bits of something in his hands. Approaching me, my newest bondmate extends his hands to me to expose three small dragons. They are perfectly formed, from stubby horns to tails with small finger-sized wings.
“Daisy, meet Edan, Casey, and Moriarity.” Cathmor deposits the red, green, and blue dragons on my lap. The red yawns, and a tiny puff of steam floats out of its maw. The green one sits on its haunches staring at me, while the blue one curls around itself before dropping his head on my knee.
“Well, hello, you cute little things.” I run my fingers across the tiny dragons, each eight to ten inches long.
A tiny chorus of voices answer in my mind.
>Hello, Báirseach.<
27
Cathmor performs another healing spell. I still have some residual aches, but I’m breathing freely, and I no longer cough when I want to speak.
Egan presses the bowl on me, urging me to eat. Between spoonfuls of broth, I disclose the name given to me by the dragons and everything else that Onyx shared with me.
Egan is astounded. Murphy, being so laid back, takes it in stride. Cathmor however, peppers me with questions I don’t know the answer to. The why, and how of it all is beyond me.
Edan has been flitting around Egan, while Moriarity lounges on Murphy’s shoulder. Casey has been flying around the plants, and they visibly perk up, as she passes.
“Daisy, I no longer feel the bond with Onyx. Do you think he’ll be staying here when we leave for Lámhach?” Cathmor’s voice is ragged. “I . . . did I do something for him
to break the bond?”
Placing my bowl to the side, I reach up and cradle Cathmor’s face. “No. He . . . says he belongs to me now. But that you need to bond with Casey.”
“Aye, I can feel the power in the little dragon. It is so similar to mine.” As he speaks the green dragon alights on his shoulder.
“Edan feels like my fire,” Egan adds.
“Little Mori reminds me of the ocean,” Murphy offers.
“I think the elementals are meant for you. There’s a reason for all this. I think I need to speak with the dragons. I don’t know what this all means. If you all wish to bond the little ones, I know the bonding spell. Ciaran repeated it so many times, I have it memorized.” Remembering that the man in question is nearby, I continue, “Perhaps we need to speak to him about the dragons. He must know more than what was in the book. He and Lennon were desperate to acquire them.”
The men nod at me.
Egan speaks up, “Why don’t you and Cathmor go outside and speak with Onyx? Murphy and I will check on Ciaran and see what else he knows.”
Decided, Edan and Moriarity settle on my shoulders as Egan and Murphy head down the hall. Tired, but eager to be moving, I follow Cathmor downstairs. I deposit my dishes in the sink, and we walk outside where Onyx has been joined by a large red dragon and a slimmer silver dragon.
>Good day, Báirseach.< Onyx greats me.
>You are in good health again. I am pleased.< The red dragon’s voice is smoky and smooth.
>Báirseach.< The silver speaks in a throaty voice, tipping his massive head down in greeting.
Hands resting on my waist, Cathmor stands behind me, lending me support and comfort.
“You call me Báirseach, Dragon Witch, but what does that mean?” I tip my head back in order to see the slitted eyes of the dragons.
>You are more than Dragon Master. To you falls the duty of ensuring the lives of all dragons. The younglings have powers we do not. We are leaving them in your and your bondmates’ care. They are yours to protect.< The great red dragon raises a talon, and the three smaller dragons flit over to land on his claw.
>We formed the accord with the last Báirseach centuries ago.< The large silver dragon takes up where the red has left off. >He did not choose his bondmates well. They abused the power. What once was a land of numerous dragon breeds has been whittled down to just three. The blacks, reds, and me. I am sadly the only silver left in existence. The covens suffered as well. The villages beyond the mountains all died out and now there is only the Farriage, Lámhach, and Craobhan covens left. The survival of all relies on the balance of Witches and dragons.<
I shiver to think what Lennon and Ciaran would have done with extra power. I’m also apprehensive. Though I have use of my bondmates’ powers, I have found I do not have normal magical powers. I am still, essentially, a Mundane.
“But what do I do? How do I ensure the safety of the dragons, of the covens?” I’m still at a loss to how having these extra powers can help or harm.
“Are they answering you, Daisy? Are you truly conversing with the dragons?” Cathmor’s voice holds awe and trepidation.
My ‘yes’ is accompanied by nods from the three dragons.
>There are those who come across the sea. Mundane who have forgotten their coven roots. They desire us. They want our horns and scales. Others want to cage us.< Onyx answers my questions. >Cathmor, the other Enforcers, and the champions guard the shoreline from invaders. You must speak with them about those who come across the sea. For they are coming, and you must be prepared.<
“What happened to the last Báirseach? How did he and his mates abuse the power?” I’m curious, but I also need to know what to be careful for, how to avoid the same mistakes.
>They used the power over their covens. They ruled absolutely, and those who did not bow down to them were put to death. They demanded the best of everything, leaving the rest to the others. But the supplies they allowed their peers to keep were not enough to sustain the covens.< The silver dragon turns and curls up on the ground before continuing. >They enslaved my kind to meet their demands when the covens waned. They used their elemental powers to defy nature and force the weather and the growth cycles.<
>The result was the death of covens and the silver dragons. Their elementals soon became weary from the use and abuse of the power. When they died, so did the Báirseach and his mates.< The red dragon backs up and eyes the door to the house as Egan and Murphy walk out. At their arrival, the small dragons alight on the shoulders of my mates. >Those who remained, congregated into the three remaining covens that you know now. Learn from the past. Use your powers to aid your covens, keep the borders safe. Help keep our eggs safe, Báirseach, Dragon Master. In doing so, the elementals will thrive and expand your lives. Perhaps in time, they, too, will mate and naturally birth more elementals. They are the hope of dragonkind.<
“May I know your names?” I can’t keep calling them red and silver.
>Our names are not easily said in your tongue. But I have been called Flynn.< The red gives his name with a throaty laugh.
>I’ve been called Liam.< The silver dragon offers.
“Thank you Flynn, Liam. Thank you Onyx. I will share with my mates your words and concerns.” With my words, Flynn gives me a bow and leaps into the air and flies toward the volcano.
>I think I shall stay and help transport you back to Lámhach. Wake me when it is time to travel.< Liam closes his eyes at these words, and Onyx offers a last bit of wisdom.
>Complete your bonding. Only then can your mates bond the dragonlings.<
This has me blushing at the thought of mating with Cathmor. My bondmates curiously look between me and the remaining dragons. Thus far, I know they have only heard my side of the conversation. I’ll discuss with them all that the dragons disclosed, but perhaps, they don’t need to know why my face has become as red as a tomato.
“Thank you, Onyx. We’ll go inside and make plans to depart. Will you be returning with us?”
>You and I will bond when the others do. Then I will return with you.< The large creature ambles off, and I am left with a sleeping silver dragon and my bondmates.
Shaky and a little queasy, I turn to the men. “Let’s go inside. I have a lot to tell you, and I’m eager to know what Ciaran has said.”
28
The men are quiet as we enter the house. I can feel their eyes on me and their curiosity, but I wait until we are settled in the living room before speaking. Egan and Murphy recline on either end of the couch, while Cathmor pulls me onto his lap in an overstuffed chair.
I relate all that I learned from the dragons, stopping and starting to try to answer questions as I go. It crossed my mind that they might think I’m crazy or hallucinating about speaking with them. But none of them question it. They have quite a few questions about the bonding and the responsibility of being bound to the little ones, but my communicating with the dragons they take in stride.
The dragonlings are full dragons but more playful than their larger counterparts. Edan is at the table, sticking a claw in the flame and transferring it to his other claw, bouncing it around like a ball. Casey is on the armrest of our chair, twirling one of the daisies that Cathmor has made and is busy braiding. Moriarity meanwhile, is splashing in Murphy’s cup of water, making and popping bubbles with abandon.
For a moment, we dwell in silence, entertained by the small dragons. Our peace is disturbed by a shout from Ciaran. “Sage! I want to speak to Sage.”
“We told him you would come when you were ready. Do you wish to speak with him?” Egan puts a hand out and grabs the fire from Edan before the dragon can set fire to the couch.
“Did he tell you anything?” I take the daisy chain from Cathmor and place it jauntily on his head.
“He said he was a descendent of the last elemental bondmates. Said he and Lennon deserved them. The power was theirs by rights. He broke down after we broke it to him that Lennon died on the side of the volcano.” Egan sounds remorse
ful that he had to be the one to tell Ciaran about his kin.
Taking a deep breath, I rise and glance up the stairwell. “No time like the present. Cathmor, will you come with me? Egan and Murphy, if you could put some provisions together? I think the quicker we return to Lámhach the better. If the council has not taken down Ciaran’s ward, the shore is undefended. We’ve been gone for a month, more than enough time for something to have occurred. I don’t like the thought of the covens being vulnerable.”
Cathmor places the daisies on my head while taking Casey and depositing her in a potted plant by the door. Then he leads me to the stairs with a hand on my lower back. Tingles run up my spine from his touch, and I can’t help but think about the need to complete our bonding. We may need to do it, but more than that, I want to. I can’t deny my attraction for the arrogant man.
Once upstairs, we turn into the bedroom on the right, the walls still bearing evidence of the fire I started from my mating with Egan. There are plants in here as well, and a very irate Warlock chained to the bedposts.
“Sage, you must release me. I must find the elemental dragons. I need your help.” Ciaran demands, even though he is in no position to ask anything of me.
Though I’m beyond angry at all this man has put me through, there is another emotion overriding it. I pity him and his delusions.
“Ciaran. We will be taking you home to answer to the council. You no longer have the right to demand anything of me. You used me and almost killed us both!” Alright. Maybe my anger is alive and well. “What were you thinking?”
“You are the perfect one to bind with. You have no powers. Once I have the dragons, they will be all mine. I won’t have to share their power.” Ciaran’s face is a mottled red, and spit flies out of his mouth as he rants. “I deserve them! They are my legacy. With them I can control the direction of the school and the council. No one can deny me!”
“Cathmor, he’s mad. We need to get him home and turn him over to the council.” I whisper, so as not to rile the man on the bed further. “What do we do until then? He’s going to hurt himself.”