On Wings of Time

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On Wings of Time Page 3

by Linda Boulanger


  No sooner had the door closed than both Kiernan's and Amileigh's stares were drawn to the window, her head snapping in that direction a fraction of a second slower than his... enough for her to confirm her thoughts.

  “You saw it too.”

  Kiernan stiffened as she walked the few steps to stand directly before him. When she put her hands on his biceps, he shook his head and tried to step back, but Ami held firm.

  “Your father's words, Ami,” he whispered, glancing toward the door.

  “Kiernan, please. Tell me what's going on.” Her tone matched his. “You saw the shadow, did you not?” She shook his sleeves when he looked away instead of answering and he finally nodded. “How can this be?”

  “I'll explain everything later, but first I need to know about the man.  Tell me what you remember.”

  Ami nodded, her breath catching as she opened her mouth to speak. “It was after I got back to Somerled. I hid in the alcove by my father's study when I heard the voices. He and the woman came around the corner. They were talking and I tried to listen but the humming in my head was becoming unbearable. She called him Tavish and I thought he must know you. Only he said Kiernan Tavish was his great grandfather. Then everything was spinning again like it was when I was in the pit...”

  Kiernan interrupted. “The pit?”

  Amileigh nodded. “The one I fell into when we were riding. The earth shook and the sky began to rumble behind us. You told me to ride to the cave and not look back. But I did. I’m sorry, Kiernan, but the sounds…” Her eyes filled with tears. “The great beasts...” She covered her face with her hands, a small sob escaping her.

  Kiernan pulled her into an embrace and she continued, her forehead on his chest. “They chased us... chased me. You were no longer there.” She looked up at him through glistening eyes, then reached up to touch his cheek with tear-moistened fingers. She traced his brow line, circling his eye. “The beautiful one—the creature in the lead... his eyes...”

  “I'll explain later.” Kiernan grabbed her wrists, bringing her hands to his chest. “This ride... when did it happen?”

  Her face crinkling in confusion, Ami shrugged. “Do you not remember, Kiernan? It was Sunday afternoon. We'd talked at the King's supper about how much I wanted to ride out and explore the cave again and you said I should not go alone, that you’d take me at the week’s end. Only you were detained so we had to postpone until the next week.” His frown prompted her to continue. “Do you not remember the picnic Mother had packed for us? How we were racing across the hills, laughing before the rumbling began?”

  Kiernan took a deep, exaggerated breath but didn't answer her. “What did you see when you returned to Somerled?”

  Ami's look grew far away. “I must have hit my head because I believed everything to lay in rubble. That's why I hid in the alcove until he said your name, especially since they were dressed so oddly and spoke of peculiar things.” She switched her gaze back to him.”

  “Did the humming in your head get louder when he got closer?” Ami nodded and Kiernan mirrored it. “And when you touched...”

  “No. We didn’t touch. At least I don't think...” She frowned. She vaguely remembered him moving toward her as her world faded around her. Her world. She hadn't been in her world, had she? She’d been in his. How was that even possible? She looked to Kiernan.

  “What was the date, Ami?”

  She told him, her eyes swimming again at his frown. “Kiernan?” She'd never seen him so somber. Fear prickled her skin, especially when her window darkened again.

  “My trip, Ami… I just returned yesterday and today is Tuesday. All you have spoken has not yet taken place.”

  A knock on her door froze them both. Kiernan shook his head when she started to speak.

  “Get dressed,” he told her, giving her hands a light squeeze before releasing her. “Stay in your room, do you understand?” When she nodded, he continued. “I'll send for you, but leave only with myself. Or Auley,” he added. She nodded again and he crossed the room, pausing with his hand on the door handle. He glanced back at her, a sad smile lifting the corners of his mouth. “Abra was right. With your parentage, you were bound to be the chosen Prihom. I just couldn't quite accept it, especially since I could sense no others of my kind. But she was right.”

  “Who is Abra?” Ami asked his retreating back. His answer was the closing door. “And what's a… Prihom?” she whispered as she slowly turned away.

  Chapter 3

  Abigail appeared seconds later with another pitcher of water and began pulling Amileigh's garments from the larger wardrobe in the corner. After a few more seconds, Ami shook herself from the stunned stupor, unwrapped her arms from the bedpost and pushed herself up from the mattress where she'd slumped after Kiernan had left. She tried to make sense of all he'd said and all that had happened, but it was too much. Ignoring it, she walked over to the wardrobe Abigail had just closed. With her hands on the wardrobe knobs, she opened the doors and stared blankly at its contents.

  “Do you not wish to wear what I have chosen, milady?” Abigail's voice sounded softly over her shoulder. Ami almost never contradicted whatever garments her maid chose for her to wear. It usually didn’t matter to her.

  She shook her head. “I'm sure it's fine. I just want to see...” She pulled away from the wardrobe, and smothered the gasp that rose in her throat. Hanging in the wardrobe's center was the gown she'd worn on her ride with Kiernan. It was as fresh and clean as it had been when they'd brought it home from the dressmaker's cottage.

  “This one?” She asked Abigail, running her fingers down its side, “have I worn it yet?” She swallowed the lump in her throat.

  “No, Mistress. Would you like me to switch...”

  Ami cut her off with a forceful no and slammed the wardrobe doors closed. She ignored Abigail's wide eyes. She knew her behavior was odd, but to be honest, she didn't care. For once, she really didn't. Something was happening and she felt certain her life was about to be torn apart.

  “Be quick, Abigail,” she told the servant as she began to remove her robe and wet gown. “Kiernan said to be ready. I need to hurry.” She didn't know where Kiernan had gone, other than to speak to her father, but she had the feeling he wouldn't be long.  Nothing would hold her back when Auley came to fetch her, whether she had a dress on or not.

  Kiernan had been surprised to see Auley outside Amileigh's door instead of her father. He’d breathed out a sigh of relief. He loved Gairlich McCollum almost as a son would his own father, but the man could be downright frightening at times. Kiernan suppressed a chuckle. No one knew how much older he was than the Lord of Somerled... other than that lord, Abra, and himself. Gairlich still treated him the age he looked, and Abra... She'd lived a half year more than he had

  His chest tightened when he thought of his beloved. He'd been away from her far too long. If he was correct, he'd be returning to her side within a fortnight, or sooner. He smiled, his head tilted down so that no one saw. They might mistake what brought about his smile. Not that he didn't care deeply for Amileigh. He did. He'd even say he loved her… just not in the way he loved Abra. Amileigh was not his, Abra was. Now, what he needed to find out was whether his hunch was right and Amileigh was the Prihom—the key that would unlock the dragon within the man held in the bowels of Somerled. His only hope was that Gairlich would listen.

  Rapping his knuckles on the door, Kiernan waited until the voice on the other side bid him to enter. He pushed open the door to see Gairlich McCollum standing at the window on the far side of the room, his hands locked behind his back as he stared out at the land that had belonged to his family for centuries. Kiernan didn't speak, only waited and watched.

  “She's my only daughter. My youngest child. I don't want to lose her.”

  Kiernan began to make a joke about her being the youngest by mere minutes, but the pained expression on Gairlich's face when the man turned toward him stopped the foolish jest. He and Abra had parented many c
hildren, most who left the world as mere mortals because the dragons in their blood hadn't been released or no Blend was found that needed their feminine magic to transform. They’d led happy, fulfilled lives. Just not the lives they were destined to lead.

  He looked at Gairlich. Yes, he knew the anguish more than he'd have liked. But he also knew what awaited Amileigh if she was a Prihom who had not only met a dragon, but the dragon destined for her. That thought thrilled him. No greater love would exist for her, no greater fulfilment.

  And for Kiernan? Finally, the fight would no longer be his alone.

  Gairlich shuffled to the large desk not far from the window and slumped into the seat. “Can we be sure he's not one of them?”

  The them Gairlich referred to were the Dubhagan—the dark dragons who wanted to rule the world, making men their slaves instead of their equals. No, they both knew there were no guarantees. Many of the Nebrani Prihoms had been taken in days of old, their powers used to unlock the dragons of the Dubhagan, the women basically used as breeding stock. Their offspring may have been of diluted and mixed blood, but pairing them with other captured or bred Prihoms still produced dragons.

  Eventually, the Dubhagan had begun to die off as well. Their inferior genetics had not guaranteed longevity and their numbers had dwindled, just as Kiernan's band had, due to deaths in battle, life, and simply growing too old to continue. He thought of King Nicolai and felt the old dragon stir within him. Nicolai Ruthven was one of the few Dragons of Kedan whose spirit had infused into a Guardian instead of passing his essence on through the blood. He’d chosen Kiernan, even though he was already an unlocked dragon, the essence of a long-ago dragon having passed to him through his bloodline and unlocked by his Prihom, Abra. It seemed complicated, but it wasn’t. Kiernan continued to be his own dragon and that particular beast took over when he shifted. King Nicolai only operated in his mind, his wisdom guiding Kiernan through the centuries so that they might both live to see the Kedan Dragons victorious.

  But to do that, he needed to find out what was going on. Why had Amileigh experienced a time shift? Six days wasn’t a lot, but the fact that she saw Somerled in ruins in that time was greatly disturbing. He’d long believed the Keep was enchanted. At least there was some great energy that he felt every time he came near.

  “I need to speak to this man that claims he is my kinsman. Do I have your permission, Gairlich?”

  Gairlich McCollum steepled his hands, tapping his pursed lips with the two extended fingers. After several seconds of looking off into an imagined distance, and without looking at Kiernan, he nodded. “Be sure, Kiernan. I’m not keen to this whole idea, and Lord help us all if her mother should decide we’re wrong.”

  Again, Kiernan stifled a chuckle. Lady McCollum was no kitten where her children were concerned. Like Abra, she too was of pure Prihom bloodline—one of the few female Pures born in the last few centuries. The fact that she’d married Gairlich—another Pure, though male, should have alerted him that something was coming… or someone. That someone being Amileigh.

  When two daughters had been born after so long… the mothers of Saundra and Gairlich… King Nicolai had told Kiernan to be on guard. He’d done just that, guarding the two women to a fault until they were both married to other Nebrani. He’d searched for their dragons to no avail. When Lady Saundra had been born, he’d again set to guarding her while working to find her dragon. It was then he’d begun to wonder if he was the last of the Dragons of Kedan, a completely devastating feeling settling in the pit of his stomach. If only he’d had a son at the time.

  Abra had assured him all would work out and in its own time. He smiled. His Abra—forever the eternal optimist. She had told him to watch over Amileigh, even though it meant a continuation of their time apart. “You’re a Kedan Dragon, Kiernan, a Guardian of Lochlainn, with a King living inside you. You have a responsibility that goes beyond the two of us.” She’d snuggled into him, looking up through her dark lashes with blue eyes forever dancing with mischief. “Do you not remember the words you spoke at our binding, my love? When you swore not only to love me forever, but to do your part to preserve the future generations of Lochlainn… both dragon and Prihom?” She’d laughed, a rich, throaty sound that even now ran sparks of desire through him. “You’ve always known there was more to that than simply producing children with me. Though before you leave…” She’d pulled his mouth down to hers, her hands already working the fasteners of his tunic. “Perhaps we will have a son.”

  Kiernan had laughed. “Perhaps, though she’d be too old for him.”

  Abra had slapped him on the chest. “Nonsense! Older women are fascinating.”

  Considering that Abra was his senior… even if only by six months… and that she was nearly 300 years old now, he couldn’t agree with her more. “I do believe you grow more fascinating by the day.” He’d sucked in a breath and groaned when her hand slid into his britches, grabbing the evidence of his desire. “And bolder, too.” With her other hand, she’d pushed the material over his hips before following it toward the floor. On her knees in front of him, she’d kissed the head he thought with most often when he was with her. Without pretense, he’d whipped the tunic and blouse off so that he could watch her, unobstructed, after the first time her tongue had flicked out to taste his glistening tip.

  Kiernan looked up to see Gairlich staring at him and realized he’d been reminiscing much too long. He could only hope he hadn’t made a spectacle of himself by moaning at the thought of Abra’s warm mouth wrapped around him just seconds before he’d pulled her up and plunged fully into her moist depths. With a shake of his head, he thanked God that women wore no undergarments in that day, having given up the unnecessary subligaculum of the Roman era.

  “Perhaps you would like me to accompany you?” Gairlich pushed a hand through his thick, lightly graying bronze curls and looked almost relieved when Kiernan shook his head.

  “I think it will go better if I’m alone.” When Gairlich nodded, he turned toward the door. “I’ll return as soon as I’m done.”

  “Kiernan.”

  Kiernan stopped and looked back at Gairlich. He wished he could get rid of the anguish in the man’s eyes. When Somerled’s Lord didn’t speak again, Kiernan did. “Have you seen him, my Lord?”

  Gairlich nodded and glanced away before looking directly in Kiernan’s face. “He has your eyes.”

  Chapter 4

  Kiernan heard the man railing the guard, even before he descended the last of the stone steps. Some of the words were unfamiliar, though their intent was unmistakable. He stifled a chuckle before rounding the corner and rendering both guard and caged man silent. It wasn't so much that he found humor in the situation as it was that he somehow expected it, especially if this man was of Tavish descent.

  “You'll not earn yourself any favor berating those who hold the key to your freedom, you know.” The two men locked eyes as Kiernan moved further into the area outside the cell.

  The man snorted. “You sound like my grandfather.” He shifted from one foot to the other, his head cocked as he studied Kiernan. “Who are you anyway? I feel like we've met before.”

  Kiernan raised a brow as he stared back. There was no doubt they were related, though exactly how, he was uncertain. There was a definite resemblance, and although they weren't replicas of each other, the man could certainly have passed for one of his brothers… if he had an older brother. A distant cousin, perhaps? Though if that was the case… disappointment attempted to creep in. It would mean the man had no dragon blood and his hope for himself, for Amileigh, and for their kind would be squashed.

  Still not answering the question, Kiernan turned and asked the guard to leave them, which the man did after no more than a moment's hesitation. Had it been anyone else, Kiernan was sure the man would not have relented. Thankfully, those who served under Lord McCollum knew Kiernan well enough to know he would never act without the man's approval. He watched the guard, listened for his footsteps t
o quiet and the massive door at the top of the steps carved into the dirt beneath the castle to open and close. Turning back, he kept his eyes averted, closing them and breathing deeply, his fists clenching and releasing.

  “What are you doing? Did you not hear me ask who you are?”

  Kiernan ignored the prisoner. What should I do, my King? He waited for the direction of the mighty beast within his head. How will I know if this man is friend or foe? I’m lost here. So much is at stake. I don’t know…

  Silence, young Kiernan. Be still. Feel. You will know. The words of the dragon king formed in his mind.

  “Hey!”

  “Shhh.” After a few more seconds, Kiernan lifted his head and smiled, sure he probably appeared insane to the captured man. But he’d done as King Nicolai had directed and felt what he needed to feel. His own dragon stirred inside, elated by the nearness of another of his own kind.

  “The better question,” Kiernan began, walking closer to the cage, “is do you, my young friend, have any idea who you are?”

  The man stood at the bars, his hands tightly wrapped around the cold metal, his eyes never wavering as Kiernan approached. Kiernan stopped just out of reach.

  “What's your name?”

  The wary captive raised a single dark brow. “Pretty sure I asked you first.”

  Kiernan threw back his head and laughed. He liked this man. His spunk and wit would serve him well in all he had to do. Reigning in his mirth, he gave one more half chuckle. “If I'm not mistaken,” he told the man before turning toward the stairs, “I'd say I'm your great grandfather.” He crossed the floor in a few steps and began taking the dirt-packed stairs two at a time.

  “What the...” he heard the prisoner yell. “Hey! Where you going? You can't just leave me here!”

  “I'll be back,” he called down.

  “My name's Luke. Lucas Tavish. Will that get me out any faster?” A moment of silence was followed by a string of muttered curses.

 

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