To Love a Highland Dragon

by Ann Gimpel

  “Brighid and Andraste?”

  Kheladin snorted flames. “Aye, and Ceridwen. They convinced our elders that dragons were needed if Earth was to survive. The Trojan War had just ended, and things were in disarray. The Cyclops and the Minotaur were running wild…

  “Anyway, ye know history. No need for me to repeat it.”

  “They convinced you to help.” Lachlan mentally rolled his eyes.

  “In a manner of speaking. The Celts can be quite persuasive when they want something.”

  Lachlan nodded his understanding. Persuasive was an understatement. Pushy, abrasive, and insistent described them far better. “Help me understand. Arawn told me dragons were the first time travelers. If you never left Fire Mountain afore the goddesses’ visit—”

  “Our seers figured it out eons before, in case we needed to leave. We’d just never used the skill.” Kheladin blew out smoke and fire. “There are tunnels, for want of a better word, that circle Earth. Two of them. One for going forward in time, the other backward. They are not particularly easy to access, but once within them, ye can move through time.”

  Something plucked at the edges of Lachlan’s consciousness. “Hold. Do ye sense aught in here but us?”

  The dragon stiffened. Lachlan felt a shift in the rolling bands of muscle beneath his legs. He joined his magic to the dragon’s and threw his senses wide open. Yes! He hadn’t been mistaken. Alien energy lurked behind them. Someone was trying their damnedest to shield it. Lachlan’s stomach tightened.

  Kheladin loosed a string of Gaelic curses. “I doona know how, but someone followed us into the tunnel. They are keeping their distance, but ’tis only a matter of time afore they make a move.”

  Lachlan gazed about them, taking in their surroundings with a practiced eye. Not a good place to defend themselves. There wasn’t much room for the dragon to manoeuver. “What happens to the tunnel if we loose defensive strikes?”

  “I doona know, but we mustna injure it. If we do, I fear we shall render it unusable.”

  Lachlan considered that piece of information but not for very long. Much as he wanted to race to Maggie’s side, needed to feel her body pressed against him and know she was safe in his arms, continuing their present course would be foolhardy. He wound strong magic around his next words to shield them. “It doesna matter where we are. Exit the tunnel. We will stand and fight.”

  The dragon hesitated so long, Lachlan wondered what was wrong. Waiting was excruciating, but he bit back a frantic flow of words.

  “Thank ye for giving me time to think,” Kheladin said at length. “What follows us is closer. I canna abort the spell midstream, but I believe I can return us to the 1500s with your help.”

  Lachlan groaned inwardly. They’d already lost more time than he was comfortable with. What if Maggie had been captured, too? Yet he recognized the dragon’s wisdom. “Tell me what to do.”

  Magic buffeted him from all sides, pressure growing until he was afraid they’d be crushed. He clung to consciousness by digging his hands into Kheladin’s scales. Pain from their sharp edges kept him awake. As his blood mingled with the dragon’s hide, he felt slightly better. Aye. He laughed grimly. Never underestimate the power of blood. The pearl-toned gray brightened, and Lachlan looked out at the standing stones on the Isle of Skye. Kheladin landed, wheeled to face the still-visible swirling vortex of the tunnel, and trumpeted a ringing challenge.

  Lachlan readied himself to jump down, but the dragon said, “Stay atop me until we see what we face. Doona lower your guard. Something comes.”

  “It must be Rhukon.”

  Fire streamed from Kheladin’s mouth. “My thoughts exactly. Who else would chivy us so? What I wish to know is how he got hold of the magic to enter the tunnel.”

  “I know ye would wish it otherwise,” Lachlan picked his words cautiously in an attempt at diplomacy, “but he is still a dragon.”

  “Barely.” Contempt filled Kheladin’s tone. “Black dragons are barred from Fire Mountain—as are reds.” The vortex pulsed, turning an angry crimson. “See,” he angled a wingtip. “Even the tunnel knows it hosts unnatural energy.”

  “I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head, youngling.” The black wyvern shot from the tunnel in a halo of sparks. As Lachlan watched, the dragon’s form shimmered into Rhukon. Aha! So he must hold one form or the other. Lachlan was just congratulating himself on an easy victory, when the red wyvern burst from the vortex just before it snapped shut with an earsplitting clang.

  “What have ye done with Maggie?” Lachlan gritted the words out.

  “What makes ye believe we’ve done aught with the lass?” Rhukon simpered. “Not that I wouldna love to sample the goods. Did she tell you I kissed her—?”

  “Shut the hell up,” Lachlan screeched. “Ye besmirch her name when it passes your lips. She is my wife and mate.”

  Rhukon shrugged. “It willna do you much good if ye canna return to her.”

  Lachlan’s gaze flickered to the red wyvern. Apparently, Connor planned to retain his dragon form. Well-versed in warfare, Lachlan understood they were evenly matched that way. Mage and dragon against mage and dragon. Unfortunately, it could mean a lengthy contest—something he could ill afford without knowing for certain if Maggie were safe.

  “How did ye enter the tunnel?” Kheladin’s voice vibrated with barely suppressed fury at what he obviously considered a violation of sacred ground.

  “Sloppy work on your part, youngling.” Connor’s dragon form smirked. “Ye dinna close off your casting soon enough—”

  “Quiet,” Rhukon roared.

  Quiet, indeed, Lachlan thought, remembering Connor had never been known for his brilliance. At least now we know how to keep them from following us—a valuable piece of information. Mayhap I shall try a bit of flattery.

  “Rhukon.” Lachlan inclined his head from his perch atop Kheladin. “My compliments. Ye were sly. Ye bested us about a hundred years hence.”

  “Aye.” Rhukon’s mouth split in a satisfied grin. “That I did. It willna take much to do so again.”

  Fire roared from Kheladin. Rhukon sidestepped the blast handily. The red wyvern opened its mouth, but Rhukon aimed a dismissive hand gesture his way. “I propose a bargain.”

  “We doona bargain with the likes of you,” Kheladin snarled.

  “Let’s at least hear what he has in mind,” Lachlan murmured. “It might be…instructive.”

  Rhukon brayed laughter. “Hmph. Your lengthy nap seems to have sowed the seeds of wisdom. What I propose is really quite simple. Ye remain here—or any other place in time away from the lass—and I will let ye live.”

  “If I refuse?” Lachlan tried to keep his tone neutral but failed. Danger ran beneath his words, its barbed edges rough against his tongue.

  “We shall engage you in battle here and now—”

  “What are we waiting for?” Kheladin cut in. “I stand more than ready.” He roared a challenge. Fire spewed from his mouth. The metallic stench of magic filled the air. Electricity crackled, and the fine hairs on the back of Lachlan’s neck stood on end. The dragon was probably right. Nothing could be accomplished with talk, yet he would have prolonged the conversation to give himself time to craft a strategy.

  Lachlan clamped his jaws together. Time, if there’d ever been any, had just run out.

  Kheladin’s bloodlust trumped everything; it raced through Lachlan like a heady stimulant. He didn’t remember jumping to the ground in front of Rhukon or raising his hands, but power blazed from them. When the first rush of finally trading blows with his archenemy faded, Lachlan wasn’t certain he could best Rhukon, but it didn’t dampen his enthusiasm. He jumped and spun to avoid direct hits. Off to one side, the dragons clashed together in a shower of fire, sparks, and scales, but Lachlan couldn’t divert his attention to see how Kheladin fared.

  Futility crept into the corners of his mind. His shirtsleeve smoldered and caught fire. Mayhap I canna do this… Lachlan sidestepped anothe
r blast from Rhukon. In a moment of clarity, he understood the other mage was manipulating him by sending hopelessness mingled with compulsion. He closed his mind to all but Kheladin.

  “’Tis about time,” the dragon cried. “I was about to intervene. Damn!” With a flurry of wings, Kheladin rose into the sky, roaring his displeasure at the red wyvern who’d just scored his flank with magic.

  Lachlan whirled in time to see Connor follow Kheladin upward. He was surprised it had taken the dragons so long to take their battle aloft.

  “Aye, now ’tis just the two of us,” Rhukon growled. “Ye canna kill me.”

  “Nor can ye deal me a mortal blow,” Lachlan countered, dancing back and forth on the balls of his feet.

  “I verra nearly did. Asleep is as good as dead.”

  An idea hit with such ferocity, Lachlan nearly missed his footing. He didn’t have time to fence with Rhukon for hours, tossing barbs and magic back and forth. Rhukon was devious. If he were trying to keep them occupied, there must be a reason. Sending a silent prayer upward, Lachlan pulled magic as fast and hard as he could.

  Rhukon had stated the obvious when he’d said asleep is as good as dead. Lachlan chided himself for not recognizing it before. He couldn’t kill Rhukon, but if he could immobilize him, for even as little as a few minutes, it would give him and Kheladin an opportunity to escape into the time tunnel.

  I should at least try to kill him.

  Later. Once I am certain Maggie is safe. Mayhap I can get the Celts to imprison him somewhere he canna escape.

  “Doona forget I am stronger than you,” Rhukon snarled through gritted teeth.

  “Correction,” Lachlan snarled back. “Ye used to be, afore I joined my life with Maggie.” He pushed every shred of magic he could at his adversary. Rhukon swayed on his feet. Lachlan ratcheted up his casting. The other mage blocked him.

  I canna give up. I must make this work. Desperation jangled his nerves and soured his stomach. Lachlan dug deep, deeper than he ever had. His body was nothing more than a conduit for magic so strong and so ancient he’d been afraid to tap into it before. Power rolled through him in violent waves.

  “Ye can stop. He is down.” Kheladin’s voice came as a shock. Lachlan had been so consumed by his spell, he’d lost all sense of anything beyond the magic devouring him. “Send your power skyward,” the dragon instructed. “Now.”

  Legs shaking, breath harsh in his throat, Lachlan merged his power with the dragon’s. Kheladin’s magic felt almost friendly compared with the vein of arcane wizardry he’d stumbled onto. He glanced at Rhukon’s prostrate form and wondered just how much time he’d bought them.

  “No!” Kheladin’s outraged cry shook the earth. “Cowardly bastard.” The skies lit with dragon fire.

  Lachlan’s gaze snapped upward, scanning through flames. The other dragon was gone. “What?” he stammered, still so weary he couldn’t think. “Where?”

  “Slimy, craven, worthless bastard left. Guess he dinna like the odds.” Kheladin fanned his wings. “To my back. We should leave while we can.”

  Grateful at least one of them was still thinking clearly, Lachlan didn’t wait for a second invitation. Once astride Kheladin, he slumped against his neck.

  “Ye did well,” Kheladin murmured, “but we are far from done.”

  “Och aye, and thank ye for that reminder.” Lachlan laid his palms flat against the dragon’s neck and shamelessly let power flow into him. The pearl-toned time travel tunnel formed around them. Kheladin stopped on the far side of its entrance and fanned his wings to hover. Lachlan tried adding magic to the casting to seal the access point. He wasn’t surprised when most of the power he managed to raise already belonged to the dragon.

  Kheladin chortled. “Thank ye for trying. ’Tis the thought I appreciate. There. The gateway is shut. Connor was correct. ’Twas sloppy of me last time, but it never occurred to me they’d be fast on our heels.”

  “Doona apologize. At least that bastard is out of the way for now. Connor isna a threat without Rhukon to back him up.”

  “Do ye have any idea how long Rhukon will sleep?”

  “Nay. Probably only a few hours. Mayhap only a few minutes. I must ask the Celts about the vein of magic I tapped into. ’Tisn’t one I’ve ever found afore, and I doona understand how it works.” Lachlan heaved a sigh and laid his head against Kheladin’s neck. “I tell you, it took every scrap of mage strength I had to control it once I found it. Without you, I fear it might have swept me away.”

  “To where?”

  “I doona know.”

  The rocking that meant they were underway and moving forward through time began. Lachlan welcomed the power flowing through the tunnel and its electric charge. He hoped some of it would sink in and replenish his badly depleted magic. They still had to find Maggie. If Rhukon had caught her in one of his nefarious webs, maybe she’d manage to escape while the dark mage lay unconscious.

  Comforted by the thought, Lachlan did everything he could to prepare himself for whatever they’d have to do to free his love.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  “I don’t know what’s going on,” Mary Elma snapped. “Keep quiet and shield yourself. We’ll do the rest. Don’t even think of moving outside this circle.”

  Being ordered about rankled; Maggie swallowed back her instinctive reaction to protest and adopt a defensive posture. She was plenty scared. The coppery taste of it flooded her mouth. Her heart hammered wildly. The air in the room darkened. When she peered through the murk, it was obvious the Celts were just as uncomfortable as the witches. The gods and goddess bunched in groups of twos and threes, hands raised to rain destruction down on whatever threatened them.

  Maybe it’s Rhukon, and we can at least wipe his sorry ass off the face of the Earth.

  Fire erupted out of nowhere; small flames flickered in a corner of the room. Smoke filled the air. Maggie coughed and instinctively hunkered closer to the floor where the air would be clearer.

  “Enough,” a voice rang out. “Ye’ll suffocate the lot of them, and us, too, if ye burn up all the air feeding your fire.”

  “Lachlan!” Maggie sprang upright and stared through the murky air.

  “It could be a trick,” Mary Elma warned. Sparks flew from her outstretched hands.

  “Aye,” Ceridwen said. “Doona relax your guard.”

  The air was so thick with fire and magic it felt like a live thing. The unmistakable sound of wing beats filled her ears. Kheladin. It’s Lachlan and the dragon, but why can’t they get through?

  “Drop the shielding around this room,” Maggie shouted.

  “Now why would we want to do that?” Andraste raised a graceful hand to her mouth and coughed into it.

  “Because I know I’m right. It’s Lachlan. He’s found us. He and Kheladin, but they can’t get in.”

  “Don’t make me laugh, girl.” Andraste smirked. “Ye forget yourself. Ye havena enough magic to keep a toy ship afloat, yet ye’re issuing orders.”

  The fire roared into life. A hole formed around it like a ragged doorway that got bigger and bigger. Maggie broke through the witches’ circle and raced forward. She sent her magic ahead of her. Working blind, she urged it to rip whatever was keeping Lachlan apart from her to shreds. A copper wing punched through, followed by the rest of the dragon with Lachlan on his back.

  She didn’t understand how she did it, but Maggie launched herself through the air and landed right behind Lachlan. She wrapped her arms around him and held on for dear life. Tears streamed down her face. Coughing, choking, crying, she gasped his name over and over again and showered kisses on his neck, his hair, any part she could reach.

  “I know ye’re happy to see him,” Kheladin rumbled, “but what about me?”

  “Oh my God, I didn’t mean to leave you out. I love you, too. How could I love one and not the other? I’ve thought of both of you constantly, ever since I realized Lachlan wasn’t in the dressing room in that shop in Fort William.” She unwound a han
d from Lachlan and patted Kheladin’s scaled hide.

  “Lass, oh, Maggie. Maggie, my love,” Lachlan twisted, tried to hug her, kiss her, but their position was so awkward, body parts just bumped into one another.

  The smoky air was clearing. Someone must have opened windows, or worked magic, or done something. Maggie didn’t care. All she wanted was Lachlan’s arms around her, his body pressed close, his lips on hers. “We have to get down, so I can hold you.”

  “Aye, lass. Hold tight, and I’ll move us.”

  “Before you do that,” she buried her hands in his hair, “I love you. One of the worst parts of thinking I’d never see you again was knowing I’d never told you how much you mean to me.”

  He leaned back against her and turned his head. “I love you, too, lassie. Take a deep breath, and we’ll be on the ground in a trice.”

  Her legs almost wouldn’t hold her upright when her feet met the ground. “Focus your magic.” Mary Elma’s voice was stern. She hurried forward and inserted herself between Maggie and Lachlan, just bullied her way right between their bodies. “I’ve wanted to meet you for years,” she exclaimed. “Ever since I saw you connected to my granddaughter in a vision.”

  “Never mind that.” Ceridwen pressed forward. “Did ye at least kill Rhukon afore ye came back here?”

  “Ye must be joking.” Kheladin showered the goddess with steam. “When in the nine hells would we have had time for that?”

  “Show a wee bit of respect.” Ceridwen waved her hands to clear the steam.

  “Mayhap ye can take care of Rhukon yourself, after ye take a bite out of the Morrigan’s colossal ego,” Lachlan suggested snidely. After a beat, he added, “I put Rhukon to sleep, but he’s likely thrown off my spell by now. When we have a spot of time, I need to talk with you about the magic I used. I doona fully understand it.”

  Maggie stared at Lachlan and Kheladin as they traded jibes with Ceridwen; reality sank in. “You’re separate. What happened?”

  “Doona fear, we are still bonded.” Lachlan favored her with a rakish grin. “If ’tis all the same to everyone here,” he waved an expansive hand, “I’d like to take my mate to a less crowded location. How far are we from your home, lass?”