by Ann Gimpel
Fionn raced down the hall. When he stuck his head into the front room, Aislinn was asleep, curled on the floor next to Rune. “Watch over her,” he sent to the wolf.
“With my life.”
“Doona let her leave this room until I return.”
“Why? What has happened?”
“Later. No time.”
Fionn ran through the side hall toward the kitchen, leaving a very worried-looking wolf sitting guard over Aislinn. He called for Dewi in his mind before he cleared the back door, but the dragon didn’t answer.
At the bottom of the steps, he scanned the yard. No dragon. Her bright red color was impossible to miss. He looked up. Relief surged as she flew toward him, albeit slowly. Thank the goddess for small favors.
“What do you want?”
“Just get down here, Dewi. We have problems.”
“I have problems of my own.”
Fionn had no intention of biting on that conversational gambit. He watched as Dewi got lower and lower. After considerably longer than it should have taken, she landed on the far side of the yard and folded her wings across her back, making it apparent she wasn’t going to come to him.
Fionn clenched his jaw. That bitch of a dragon wasn’t going to make things easy, but he didn’t have any choice, so he strode across the yard and came to a halt right in front of her. Fionn inclined his head. “Thank you, sister god, for coming to my aid.” It was an ancient greeting amongst them and one he hoped would garner the dragon’s good will.
“Hmph,” she breathed. Flames shot skyward. “You, at least, recall I am your equal. Now, that worthless piece of trash, who unfortunately has MacLochlainn blood in her veins, is another matter. She has forgotten her place.”
“Stop.” Fionn held up a hand. “I doona wish to discuss Aislinn. I told you, we have serious problems.”
“Well, so do I, and her name is MacLochlainn.”
Fionn’s muscles tensed. He didn’t want to get into a longwinded discussion with the dragon about the woman he loved. “This house is balanced precariously between worlds—” he began.
Dragon laughter sprayed fire and interrupted him. Fionn swatted at embers burning through his leather breeches.
“You are just now figuring that out? A bit slow on the uptake, weren’t you?”
“Dewi. Please.”
Something in his tone got her attention, because the dragon stopped throwing fire around.
He inhaled raggedly. “Thank you. If ye must discuss Aislinn, ye would get further with her if ye treated her as an equal.”
“But she isn’t.” Dewi focused her whirling eyes on him. “The ancient covenant—”
“—states the MacLochlainn and the Celtic dragon god will fight evil as a pair throughout time. It says nothing about Aislinn being your handmaiden or bondservant or any other variation where she has to do what ye tell her.”
“That is the way it always worked before,” Dewi said peevishly. “Why should it be different now?”
Hope surged. At least Dewi was listening. “Aye. This is partially my fault. I was the one who sent you to spy on the Lemurians a few hundred years ago. In that time, the world has changed—and rather dramatically.” Since the dragon wasn’t trying to burn him to a crisp or insert her own opinions, Fionn hurried on. “Ye saw what happened when ye played the heavy with Tara. She ran like hell. Couldna get away from you fast enough.”
“I just thought there was something wrong with her,” the dragon muttered.
“Aye, well, that same something is wrong with all modern women.” Fionn laughed wryly. “Not that it bothers me. In fact, I appreciate their independence, but somewhere in the last hundred years or so, women came into their own. They no longer do what either men or dragons tell them.”
“Oh.” Dewi sighed, but only steam billowed from her nostrils. “Here I thought she was simply stubborn, just like her mother.”
“It runs much deeper than that.” Fionn took a chance. “If ye doona wish to alienate her completely, I suggest ye tell her we had this conversation and ye would like to begin anew with different ground rules: the first being ye each stand on equal footing.”
Silence sat between them for so long that Fionn considered what to say next to convince her. The dragon saved him the trouble. Dewi wound her long neck so she met his gaze head on. “I can do that. Thank you for telling me, Fionn MacCumhaill.”
“I tried to tell you when we stood outside Slototh’s hellhole in Arizona, right after ye’d as much as let the Minotaur rape Aislinn, but ye dinna listen.”
“Some messages require more than one telling. This time, I took care to listen with my third ear.” The dragon’s eyes whirled faster.
Fionn shifted his gaze downward. Things had gone far better than he’d expected. He hoped Dewi’s temper wouldn’t flare and ruin it all.
“What was that you started to tell me about this house?” The dragon changed the subject abruptly.
Thank bloody Christ, she’s moved off talking about Aislinn.
“Ye know about the Lemurian-human hybrids?”
The dragon nodded.
“Well, their coffins are empty. Gwydion’s and Bran’s bodies are in the attic, but their astral selves are gone.”
“Did they go willingly?”
“I doona know.”
Scales clanked as Dewi narrowed her eyes. “What did you do?”
“Set wards around the attic. Sealed it. Did my best to separate it from the rest of the house.”
“Good.”
“Do ye know which world they have gone to?”
Dewi’s large head moved up and down. “I think so. Perrikus’s is closest. Then D’Chel’s. It is likely one or the other.”
Fionn thought about the dark god he’d sensed behind the Lemurians during his foray into Taltos. A sense of foreboding settled in his chest, heavy and unwelcome.
“Where is Arawn?” Dewi asked.
“He should be on his way back here with help.”
She nodded. “I am thinking we should wait until he returns. You and I could go, but the odds will improve if we are not two alone against goddess-only-knows how many.”
“Unless Gwydion and Bran were dragged from their bodies against their will. In that case, the longer we wait, the greater chance they have of sitting out the next few millennia in the Dreaming, severed from their magic.”
“I propose a compromise.” Dewi tapped his chest with a talon. “We will wait until midnight. If Arawn has not returned, we will see what we can find.”
“Thank you.” When Fionn mouthed the heartfelt words, he understood he hadn’t really expected the dragon’s help.
“You’re welcome.” Dewi’s jaws parted in what could have passed for a smile. “Now, where are Aislinn and that wolf of hers?”
“Aislinn is asleep. Let her be until she wakes, please. She’s exhausted.” Fionn flirted with the wisdom of eroding Dewi’s good will, but didn’t see that he had any choice in the matter. He girded himself against a shower of sparks. “So long as ye brought it up, we need to discuss the wolf…”
CHAPTER SEVEN
Aislinn leaned into Rune’s warmth. She hadn’t meant to fall asleep, but his body felt so soothing next to hers, she’d let her eyes close. When she opened them, she was relieved light still filtered in from the room’s large windows.
“Too much to do to sleep the clock round.” She struggled to clear her sleep-fuzzed brain.
“You needed rest.” Rune licked her chin, got to his feet, and shook himself from stem to stern. Fur eddied in the air around him.
“How long—” she started to ask and then bit her tongue. Time questions were pointless with the wolf. Aislinn pushed herself to a cross-legged sit. “Where’s Fionn?”
“I am not certain. He told me to make sure you stayed here until he returned.”
That didn’t sound good. Aislinn clanked her teeth together; annoyance vied with fear. “What happened?”
“I do not know. Fionn raced in h
ere like the dogs of hell were right behind him. All he said was to keep you in this room.”
Aislinn sent Mage magic spinning outward. It ran aground when it tangled with wards in the back of the house. She pushed hard enough to recognize Fionn’s work before backing off. At first she was confused, and then it came to her that last night’s problems must have returned, but magnified tenfold. The attic was just about where her magic hit a dead end.
The bedroom. My things. Crap.
She got to her feet.
“Where are you going?” Rune sounded worried.
“To the kitchen. I’m hungry. I’m also filthy, but apparently that can’t be helped right now. This doesn’t seem like a good time to take a bath.”
“You’re not leaving this room. I promised Fionn.” Rune positioned himself in front of the door and bared his teeth.
Aislinn fought burgeoning irritation mixed with love. The wolf was trying his damnedest to protect her. Her mind still felt muddy, but not nearly as bad as when she’d fallen asleep. She tried to think of something diplomatic to say that would mitigate Rune’s sense of responsibility so he’d let her leave.
Heavy footsteps sounded in the hall. She was pretty sure it was Fionn—the energy felt like his—but she readied magic just in case. The door flew open, and a disheveled-looking Fionn lurched through it, panting. His hair was awry; burned spots smoldered in his battle leathers.
“Thank the goddess ye stayed put.” He must have seen questions brimming from her eyes, because he added, “The hybrids are gone.”
“Gwydion and Bran?”
“Their bodies are upstairs, but that’s about it.”
Aislinn felt like someone had kicked her in the guts. “Oh.” She shook her head hard and pulled herself together. “Well, what are we waiting for? We need to go after them.”
Fionn shook his head. “Not yet. I’ve been talking with Dewi—”
“I don’t want to hear about it.”
“Well, ye will listen. Ye as well,” Fionn said to Rune. “The long and short of it is the dragon is sorry—”
“We’ve heard that one before,” Rune snarled.
“Yes,” Aislinn chimed. “I seem to recall her being sorry outside Slototh’s lair.”
Fionn sighed. He coiled his hands into fists at his sides. “Aye, I told her much the same. And gave her a history primer, as well. She dinna realize—”
“I said”—Aislinn turned away—“I don’t want to hear about it.”
Fionn thumped his hands heavily onto her shoulders, and he turned her to face him. “Ye doona have a choice, lass. I will spare you the details, but I believe I got through to the dragon this time. We need her. If Arawn isna returned by midnight, she has agreed to help me search for Gwydion and Bran.”
She knew it was childish, but Aislinn was furious Fionn had given Dewi the time of day. It felt disloyal to her. Sort of like he could be on her side, or the dragon’s, but not both. I’ve got to get hold of myself. She forced herself to breathe before she said something she regretted. The pressure of his fingers digging into her shoulders hurt. She moved under his hands.
He muttered, “Sorry,” and loosened his grip.
Aislinn raised her gaze to his and tried to forget how absolutely wonderful Fionn’s blue eyes were. This was not a time to get sidetracked. “There are things I need to know. The first one is what will happen to your friends if we can’t bring them back here?”
“That depends on how they left. If they departed of their own free will, chasing after one of the dark gods or the hybrids, things are not nearly so desperate. On the other hand, if their astral selves were forced out of their bodies—”
“Well, if you go, I’m going, too.”
“Yes, and you are taking me.” Rune padded to where the two of them stood, tail pluming.
“I doona think that is a verra good idea—” Fionn began.
Aislinn clapped a hand to her forehead. “Shit. It’s Dewi inside my head demanding I come outside to talk with her. I really don’t want to.”
“Then don’t,” Rune growled.
“I think you should hear what she has to say.” Fionn’s voice was gentle, but Aislinn recognized compulsion beneath his words.
“You’d ensorcel me to get me to talk to the fucking dragon?” Outrage boiled over, and she bolted from the room.
Fionn’s footfalls sounded right behind her. Unfortunately, he caught up to her easily and clasped her arms from behind. “Not ensorcel.” He bent so his breath was hot against her ear. “Please, leannán, indulge me. If ye doona like what she has to say, ye can leave.”
“She doesn’t sound one whit different. Same bossy, demanding, entitled—”
“If she does that, neither of us will stay.” Fionn moved to her side and linked an arm through hers. “Come on. Let’s face this together.”
Against her better judgment, Aislinn let him drag her through the kitchen and out the back door. Rune walked by her side, growling imprecations. She didn’t have to go any farther than the top of the steps leading down from the back porch because Dewi was as close to the house as she could get.
The dragon settled her whirling eyes on Aislinn before shifting her gaze to Rune. She belched smoke streaked with fire. “Good. You are both here—”
Rune inserted his body between Aislinn and Dewi. “She is my bond mate,” he snarled, “not yours.”
Dewi arched her neck. Concerned the dragon would burn Rune to a cinder for being insolent, Aislinn shoved the wolf behind her.
“Oh, stop it. I wouldn’t hurt your precious wolf. I am willing to recognize the two of you are bonded, even though my link to the MacLochlainn is far older—”
“Stop.” Fionn held up a hand. “There is enough of Aislinn to go round. She can hold bonds to both of you without the two of you sniping at one another.” He looked meaningfully at Dewi and Rune. “We have a larger enemy to face. If we destroy each other with bitter harping, we will save them quite a bit of trouble.”
“I hate to admit it, but you’ve got a point.” Aislinn blew out a frustrated breath. “I thought the question at hand was whether we fought the dark with her”—she jabbed a finger at Dewi—“or on our own.”
“You can’t go without me.” Shock permeated Dewi’s voice. “Furthermore—”
“Oh yes, we could. I don’t trust you. There’s nothing worse than being in a battle with an ally who might turn on you. Rune told me you tried to kill him when he was bonded to Marta.” Aislinn forced herself to hold the dragon’s unsettling gaze.
“That was different. Marta was not the MacLochlainn.”
Rune’s jaws snapped shut. “That does not make me feel any better.” He moved between Fionn and Aislinn.
“I apologize.” Dewi sniffed. “You take things too personally. Marta was tampering where she had no business. I was merely trying to scare her off. I knew if she made too many trips into Taltos, the Old Ones would capture her. Besides…” She eyed Rune with asperity. “I had no idea your sense of smell was so feeble that you wouldn’t sense my trap before it nearly blew up in your face.”
“I wasn’t expecting a snare in my own yard.” The wolf growled just before he lunged at the dragon.
Dewi fanned her wings. Smoke plumed from her snout.
Fionn dragged the wolf back, muttering curses in Gaelic. “Ye are supposed to be apologizing,” he snapped at Dewi. “Remember our discussion. Humble. Undefended.”
“I’m trying—”
“Not verra hard, ye’re not. Tell Rune ye are sorry. Try to sound as if ye mean it.”
Dewi made a coughing sound. She shut her eyes and then opened them. “I am sorry, Rune. Had I known what the cost of my mischief would be, I would have found another means to warn Marta off.”
Rune, who’d been tugging against Fionn’s iron grip, relaxed. “Accepted,” he snorted and padded to Aislinn’s side.
Aislinn paid out Seeker magic, relieved to hear the ping of truth bounce back at her. Despite Dewi’s annoying
high-handedness, at least she was telling the truth. “All right.” Aislinn settled her hands on her hips and kept her Seeker magic deployed. “Now what about me? Fionn says I need to hear you out. If it weren’t for that, I wouldn’t have heeded your summons.”
Aislinn pressed her tongue against her teeth. Despite Dewi’s half-baked apology to Rune, she felt her temper rising and clenched her jaws to keep it in check. Bad things happened when her anger got out of control, like running into an electrified ward and dying. If Fionn hadn’t been close by to bring her back…
“What do you mean, not heed my summons?” Dewi tossed her head back, and her eyes whirled faster.
“That’s just it.” Aislinn spun toward Dewi, riding a fine edge of control. “You think you can summon me and I’ll dance to your tune. Well, think again. No one summons me. If you want me to work with you, you need to ask if it’s something I want to do, not just assume I’ll drop everything and fall at your feet every time you call my name.”
“I think I understand that now.”
Aislinn heard another truth ping and blessed her Seeker gift.
“I truly am sorry,” Dewi said. “I didn’t understand how upset you were—or why—until Fionn drove a few points home.”
“Good.” Aislinn buried a hand in Rune’s thick neck fur. “Because if we’re all going after Bran and Gwydion, we’ll need to work together—”
“That was one of the things I tried to address earlier, when you said the two of you might go without me.” Dewi focused both eyes and words on Fionn, as if the last thing she wanted were another confrontation with Aislinn. “It would be best if the MacLochlainn, untrained as she is, remained here.”
He shrugged. “I dinna invite her—” he began.
“No, he didn’t,” Aislinn agreed. “I invited myself. And then Rune said if I was going, he was coming, too. Seems you could use another couple pairs of hands.” She locked gazes with Dewi. “I am not untrained. I’ve had more than three years in the Lemurian-version of military Special Forces preparation.”
