by Ann Gimpel
She frowned. “How could you know that? We’ve only just met.”
“We fought side by side. No quicker way to take a man’s mettle—or a lassie’s—than in battle.” He offered a smile. “But I may have cheated, a little.”
The corners of her mouth twitched. “How’s that?”
“I’m used to looking within our kind. Sorting what I need to know, and your spirit is pure and resilient.”
Color stained her cheeks, and she looked away. “Thank you.”
He still hadn’t figured out what had bothered her from earlier, nor had he had an opportunity for a bit of surreptitious sleuthing. Whatever it was, she seemed to have moved past it, and he didn’t want to upset her all over again by bringing it up.
“Anyway,” she went on. “Once I had my skin back, I took to the sea and remained there for a long time. That was when I found your pod, but they made it clear they wanted me to leave. So I wandered and swam with no particular aim or goal other than a determination no one would ever separate me from my skin again.”
She drained the remnants of brandy from her glass. He offered the bottle, but she shook her head. “I’ve had enough. Eventually, I emerged from the sea, but in a different spot. The Orkney side rather than the Hebrides, where I was originally from. That was when I settled in Wick and eventually got my bakery going.”
Raene got to her feet and picked up the plates, carrying them to the pump.
Aegir sprang upright and ran lightly to her side. “Leave those. I’ll take care of them.” He gathered the remaining biscuits and bent to return them to the oven, cutting the flow of magic that kept the enclosure warm.
“I should go.”
He tried to mask the dismay that punched him in the guts. He didn’t want her to leave, but he had no hold on her, either. He aimed for a neutral tone. “Where will ye go?”
She shrugged. “Not sure. Is your offer to accompany me to where Gregor is still, uh, good?”
“Of course. I gave my word.”
“How long before you don’t have to stick so close to Arcadia?”
“Perhaps a fortnight.”
“I’ll return then.” She started for the entry.
Aegir stared after her. She couldn’t just walk away, yet she was doing exactly that. He, who’d always planned out his every move, threw his carefully scripted life aside and ran after her. She was already outside by the time he caught up and called her name.
She stopped but didn’t turn around. “Did you forget to tell me something important? Don’t worry. I’ll leave your robe far enough up the beach the tide can’t get it.”
He reached out, desperate for the touch of her, but stopped before his fingertips grazed her shoulders. He had no idea what he was asking for when he said, “Please.”
Something about the tone of his one word, part entreaty part prayer, must have startled her because she did turn then, her brows drawn into a worried expression. “Is something wrong?”
What to say? How to tell her why he’d run after her when he wasn’t certain himself? He opened his mouth, but nothing emerged. He’d become so adept at hiding his true feelings about everything, the only phrases that sprang to his lips were platitudes. He’d actually begun to tell her all was well, and he’d see her soon, but he didn’t need to be out here for that.
“I—I doona want you to leave.” He choked the words out, and they sounded garbled over the rush of the sea.
She angled her head to one side. “I don’t understand. Why not?”
His heart beat a tattoo against his ribcage. He had to tell her the truth, not some trumped up story. Besides, what could he possibly come up with that made sense. He did touch her then, placing a hand lightly atop her shoulder. “I like you, Raene. Ye’re different, and I want a chance to get to know you better.”
There. He’d gotten at least some words out.
He waited, but rather than smiling or looking pleased, she closed her teeth over her lower lip. “It’s not a good idea.”
“Why not?”
“We have two very different lives. I’m not about to spend more of the year than I already do in the ocean, and you’re not going to take up residence in Wick above my wee shop. Besides,” she plowed on, “you’re the Selkie king. Doesn’t that mean there are lots of women waiting in the wings to be queen? Obviously, I wouldn’t know such things, but isn’t Selkie royalty determined by some kind of birthright?”
“Nay. Other than a king, the only other leadership in a pod is its council, and it’s comprised of twelve Selkies who are elected every four years. The council advises the king, and if he’s wise, he listens to their advice.”
“Is there ever a queen, not linked to a king?”
“Nay. Unless the king in question died an untimely death. Gregor’s pod had a widowed king who died, leaving a daughter. ‘’Tis how Gregor became a prince by marrying her.” He hesitated before adding. “At the time, many of us thought two royal deaths strange. Selkies are long-lived, and to lose both a queen and then the king within a short timespan seemed…unlikely.”
“Did anyone investigate?” Raene drew her brows together.
He shook his head. “I know not. It wasna my pod, and what I just shared falls into the realm of gossip passed from one Selkie to another.”
“Doesn’t seem fair. Not about Gregor so much, but about there not being queens unless a male relative dies.”
“Patriarchies are as old as time. Not that they’re right, but our system predated ‘equal rights’ by millennia.” Aegir raked hair back from his face and shook it over his shoulders. He tipped her chin up with an index finger so she had to look at him. “I’ve never married. Never met anyone I wanted to spend my lifetime with. Coming after you was hard for me, ran against my better judgement, but I did it anyway.”
“Why?”
“Because ye’ve become important to me. Too important to let you go without making certain ye ken how I feel.”
Raucous trumpeting sounded from a distance but grew rapidly closer.
“What the hell is that?” Raene scanned the cloud-laden darkness with magic that shone about her in a silvery mist. “Are we in danger?”
Excitement filled Aegir as he, too, scanned the skies. “Nay, lass. No danger. Not for us. ’Tis a dragon, and I suspect it’s seeking me, otherwise it wouldna have left Fire Mountain.”
“A dragon?” Raene’s voice turned into a high-pitched squeal. “Impossible. They’re not real.”
“If we are, why can’t they be?”
“I don’t know. What’s Fire Mountain?”
“Does this mean ye’re staying?” he asked.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” She laid a hand over the one he still had on her shoulder. “Leave and miss my only chance to see a living, breathing dragon?”
He laughed. “Love your honesty, lassie. I’d rather ye remained on account of me, but I’ll take any concession I can get.”
Raene clapped a hand over her mouth. “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to hurt your feelings. My social skills are way more than rusty. They barely exist.”
“Doona fash. I was teasing.”
The beat of powerful wings joined the dragon’s roar. He could see the creature now, a massive blood-red dragon with spinning golden eyes, and it was headed right for them. “I know her,” he told Raene. “’Tis Tarika. She’s actually a dragon shifter. Her human half is Britta Kilkerran, Countess of Cumbria.”
Raene moved to his side and gripped one of his hands. She was probably scared, but he welcomed her touch no matter how it came to be.
Still bugling like a mad thing, the dragon touched down lightly a few meters away. He walked close with Raene by his side and bowed. “Welcome, Tarika, and Britta as well.”
“I started with your pod.” The dragon’s voice was rich with echoing overtones. “Your sire told me where ye were. Ye must come. There are problems.”
Aegir bowed again. “I canna. I am bound to Arcadia for some days yet.”
Fire spewed skyward. Aegir was grateful it hadn’t been aimed at him and Raene. “Your sire will be here soon enough to take over. Ye must come with me now.”
“Why?”
“Do ye question me?” More fire lit the night sky.
“No, Mother of Dragons, and one of Fire Mountain’s First Born.” He kept his words low and respectful.
Raene edged off to one side, pulling her hand from his. “I was just leaving.”
“Think again!” Another blast of fire, except this one hit the beach a meter in front of Raene’s bare feet. “Ye’re a Selkie. Ye’re coming too. I can carry the two of ye.”
“Carry?” Raene squealed. “I can’t ride a dragon.”
“’Tis a great honor, lass,” Aegir told her, thrilled and excited almost beyond words at the prospect of flitting through the skies on Tarika’s broad back.
“We’re wasting time. Get on,” Tarika commanded. “Now.”
“Will we need our skins?” Aegir asked.
“Aye. Give them to me, I shall keep them safe while we fly.”
“I can’t,” Raene sounded frantic.
“Ye must,” Aegir told her. “It’s not wise to anger a dragon by refusing a direct command.”
To set an example and, hopefully, establish trust, Aegir retrieved his skin from behind its enchantment and handed it to Tarika. He went to Raene, who looked as if she’d frozen in place. “Lass, the dragon doesna want your skin for nefarious purposes. Wherever we are going, we will need our seal bodies.”
“I know. I’m scared, but I’ll get it.”
He felt the bite of Selkie power, and Raene marched to Tarika, pelt thrown across her arms. She didn’t say a word as the dragon took her skin.
Tarika puffed steam until Raene was surrounded by it. “That ye’ve trusted me speaks well for you, little Selkie. I shan’t betray your faith in me.”
“I hope not.” Raene turned back toward Aegir.
He gripped her hand and hustled around to the dragon’s side. “She’s huge. How do I—” Raene began.
Tarika twisted in an athletic maneuver that belied her bulk and lifted Raene, tossing her sideways as she instructed, “Grab my horns.”
Aegir focused a blast of magic and rode it to the dragon’s back. Raene sat, legs splayed and hands holding onto the dragon’s neck horns so hard her knuckles were white. He settled behind her and wrapped his legs and arms around her trembling body.
“It will be all right,” he whispered in Raene’s ear.
“Of course it will,” Tarika trumpeted. “No one’s ever fallen off me. Not yet, anyway.”
Aegir waited for the rush of air as the dragon lifted off. He’d said enough. Questioning Tarika wouldn’t bring answers any faster than she wanted to provide them. Raene was still shaking. He wanted to reassure her, but the dragon would hear telepathy as easily as she’d picked up on his last attempt at comfort.
Instead, he opted for a wee bit of history. Surely, it would please Tarika to hear him relate the saga of her people.
“Long ago, afore Earth existed,” he began, “the dragons made their home in Fire Mountain…”
Chapter 8
Raene pried her eyes open sometime after the dragon left the ground. Air swooshed past, but something about the architecture of the dragon’s wings protected her and Aegir from the worst of the slipstream flowing past them. Heat rose upward from Tarika’s scaled back, warming her.
Turning her pelt over to the dragon terrified her, but it was done. No going back. Besides, the dragon had no use for a Selkie wife, so maybe she was safer than she believed.
After she remembered to breathe, her sense of teetering on the brink of fainting receded. The unbroken beat of dragon wings coupled with Aegir’s story about the first dragons had a steadying aspect. Fire Mountain was a borderworld, separated from Earth by a barrier only dragons or those given dispensation by dragons could cross. Apparently, the Celtic gods were an exception to that rule. A land of heat and light, it consisted of a ring of active volcanoes and caves. Within one of them lay a single spring. It was sufficient for the dragons and the herds of wildebeest who provided food for them.
Raene relaxed, leaning back against Aegir. The way he’d surrounded her body with his own was tantalizing. She’d been thrilled—and surprised—when he’d asked her to stay, but she hadn’t been playing hard-to-get when she’d refused. She’d had time to assess the attraction she felt for him. Everything she’d told him was true. Their lives were too different. Beyond that, his kin would never accept her, an outsider, as their liege’s mate.
She drew herself up short. He’d only said he wanted her to remain so he could get to know her better. He hadn’t said one word about marriage or mating or anything permanent. For all she knew, his interest didn’t run deeper than a roll in the hay. He said he’d never married, but surely he’d had dalliances.
The dragon had been silent since ordering them to mount her. They flew high enough, clouds floated beneath them and the night sky was shot with millions of stars. Black and beautiful, it tugged at Raene’s soul.
Behind her, Aegir cleared his throat and said, “Tarika. I could be of greater assistance were ye to give me an idea where we’re going and what ye expect of me.”
“Ha!” The dragon blew flames that lit the night. “A curious man.”
“I admit to curiosity.” Aegir’s reply was smooth and edged with the tiniest bit of compulsion. “But I’m worried too. Is this a task where I shall need to put out a call for reinforcements?”
“If I needed brute strength, I’d have tackled this with other dragons.” Smoke joined the fire eddying from her open mouth. “We have all agreed with Danu’s covenant.”
“Aye, we have. Which part concerns you?”
“The prohibition against genocide.”
Where Aegir’s body had been fluid behind her, it firmed as he sat straighter. “Which race of magic-wielders are ye considering annihilating?”
“Yours.”
Any pretense of ease Raene had developed departed fast. “Why Selkies?” she demanded. “What did we ever do to dragonkind?”
“Probably better if I handle this, lass,” Aegir whispered into her ear.
If he hadn’t been sitting between her and the whirling abyss below the dragon, she’d have told him to go to hell and run off into the night. As things stood, she didn’t have that option. Anger and fear twisted her stomach into an unpleasant knot.
“Are ye going to let him run circles around you?” Tarika demanded.
“Um, are you talking to me?” Raene managed to push words past her dry throat.
“Who in the goddess’s name else would I be talking to? ’Tisn’t as if there’s much of a choice.”
Rather than delve into Tarika’s question, Raene repeated her earlier query. “Why Selkies. What did we do?”
“Stole a dragon youngling.”
“But that’s scarcely possible,” Aegir cut in. “We canna get to Fire Mountain without your express dispensation.”
“True enough,” Tarika huffed. “The young dragon has always been a handful. He discovered a spell to split the veils and left our world. By the time we discovered his absence, many days had passed.”
“How old is this missing dragon?” Raene asked, assuming it would be something like a human toddler.
“Only ten years, as we count them, so twenty of yours,” Tarika retorted.
Raene started to say the dragon could take care of himself but thought better of it.
“The dragon ran off and joined a Selkie pod?” Aegir’s words were edged with incredulity. “How?”
“The same way as any magical creature can breathe beneath the water when in proximity to one of your castles,” Tarika snapped back.
“Not exactly what I meant,” Aegir said in as neutral a tone as Raene had ever heard from him. “Dragons are fire-bound. Selkies are ocean-marked. I’m not seeing the attraction. Sure, he can breathe underwater, but he can’t play with his fire.”
&n
bsp; “Aye, well, ye’ll have to ask him—assuming the Selkies will return him.”
Something about her tone caught Raene’s attention. “You’ve already asked, haven’t you?”
A blast of fire was followed by. “Of course. I always try the simplest route first. Why involve others unnecessarily?”
“Wait a minute,” Aegir broke in. “Ye asked for your youngling back, and someone refused? Who would be so stupid?”
Tarika brayed what might have been bitter laughter. It was hard to tell. “Which is precisely why ye’re here.”
“Is he your child?” Raene asked.
“Nay, but as one of the First Born, I’m tasked with maintaining order and safety for all dragons.”
“Did ye draw the short straw on this mission?” Aegir asked.
“’Twas my turn,” the dragon replied.
“I’m glad ye have a system.” Understated humor ran beneath Aegir’s words. “We have them too, but they rarely work as designed. Which pod has your youngling?”
“The one nearest you. We’re nearly there. I figure ye must know them.”
Raene stifled a gasp. Before she could say anything, Aegir tightened his hold on her. She recognized it as a warning to keep quiet but didn’t understand why. Tarika’s earlier comment about letting the other Selkie run circles around her rose to taunt her.
Raene held tighter to the dragon’s neck horns. “You might not want to bring me along, if that’s the case.”
“Why?” Tarika’s question held a clipped quality.
“Because I’m an illegitimate daughter to the liege for that pod. No one knows about me.”
“He does.” The dragon puffed smoke.
“Aye, but I’ve never seen him.”
“Let’s see,” Tarika mused. “As I recall, Selkies take a dim view of mating outside the bonds of marriage. Is that still true?”
“Aye, ’tis,” Aegir answered.
“The penalty used to be something like death or banishment,” Tarika went on.
“It still is.”
Dragon bugles filled the night sky until Raene let go of the horns to clap her hands over her ears.
