by Ann Gimpel
“Excellent question,” Dewi shrieked as she lumbered to where they stood. “You sent my babies to their deaths,” she wailed. Tears gushed from her eyes, forming a king’s ransom in jewels at her feet. “How could you do such a thing?”
Nidhogg grabbed her foreleg and shook it hard. “Get hold of yourself. They’re fine. They’re outside with Kra and Berra.”
“How do you know?” Her dark eyes whirled like deep, perilous pools.
“Because Kra reached me telepathically. Mostly to apologize. He was quite harsh with our brood when they showed up in front of the fortress.”
“How dare he?” Dewi’s despair shifted to outrage so fast it made Fionn’s head whirl. “Our children are magnificent, splendid. Heroes.”
“Yes, but they also snuck away from our borderwold,” Nidhogg cut in.
Dewi shrugged. “They’re young, experimenting with life—”
“Hold the argument until later.” Fionn exhaled briskly. “Once we mow our way through what’s left here, we’re done. Let’s get to it. I want to take Aislinn home.”
“Adva’s still very much alive,” Nidhogg reminded him.
“I suspect he won’t hang around once he realizes he’s the only one left.” Fionn cracked a grim smile and trotted to where he’d left the other Celts to tell them what happened.
The rest of the battle was fast and bloody. Once the demons realized their physical exit route had been cut off, a sizable contingent, probably all those who had enough magic at their disposal, teleported out of there, leaving their fellows to fend for themselves. Fionn grabbed a battle axe from a fallen troll and cut his way through swathes of demons, trolls, and gnomes. Killing with the axe was more satisfying than killing with magic, and he gloried in the crunch of bones as he connected with enemy bodies.
He’d loved battle in the early years after his birth in 1048. It was simple, personal, with just him, his horse, his broadsword, and magic when he needed it. Modern warfare, where you killed millions with a bomb from an airplane, lacked the personal touch that created warriors. No wonder humankind had sunk into such a depraved state that they’d been swayed enough by empty rhetoric to open their world to darkness.
He laughed at his foray into philosophy, and then laughed some more at the joy of victory, of using body and brain to rid the world of wickedness. As he killed, he worked his way to where he’d left Aislinn and Rune. At first he didn’t see them, but that was because they’d moved. Not far, but she perched atop a fallen troll, presumably to give herself a better view of the battlefield.
Rune stood, his tail pluming. The wolf was barely recognizable through blood that covered him from nose to tail tip. Fionn ruffled his fur and got splattered with gore. Not that it mattered, since he wasn’t any cleaner than the wolf. He hunkered in front of Aislinn. “How are ye feeling, mo croi?”
“Fine. I’m fit enough to fight. I could finish this with you.”
“Not on your life.” He laid a hand over her stomach and sent magic into her. His eyes widened when he found the damage completely Healed—minus her missing ovary. “I doona believe it,” he breathed. “Timothy must be one hell of a Healer.”
“He checked me over, said I’d done a fine job Healing myself, and left.”
“Then how?” Fionn moved his hand to her cheek, leaving bloody fingerprints on her skin. “Did ye Heal yourself once I left you here?”
She shook her head. “I think my miraculous return from the far side of the veil is because of whatever Dewi did.”
“We’ll have to ask her.” Fionn straightened and swept Aislinn into his arms. “The ones who are left can finish mopping up. We’re verra nearly done, and I’d like to take you out of here.” He tightened his grip, drawing her as close as he could. “Gods, but I love you.”
She snuggled against him. “I love you too, Fionn. My last thoughts, or the ones I was certain would be my last, were of you and Rune.” She hesitated. “Once I knew I was dying, I asked Perrikus and D’Chel to spare both of you.”
“What’d they say?” Fionn stared down at her.
“That they’d think about it, but I didn’t believe them and was sick I’d abased myself by groveling.”
He shifted her in his arms and smoothed hair back from her face, leaving more gore in the wake of his fingers. “It doesna matter. They’re out of the way for now, and we still have each other.”
“Since we’re leaving, can we teleport?” Rune broke in. “Or will we be stuck trying to find that rotten tunnel we took in here?”
Fionn liked the feel of Aislinn cradled in his arms. When he thought how close he’d come to losing her, it curdled his blood. “I doona know,” he told the wolf, “but I aim to find out.”
Aislinn wriggled against him. “Not that I don’t adore being held, but you stink of demon. I probably do too. Put me down and let me help get us out of here.”
If it were up to him, he’d never let go of her again—ever. Even if it meant chaining her to his wrist with magic.
As if she’d read his thoughts, she squirmed harder. “No boxes. Not for either of us. Remember?”
“Aye, lassie, all too well.” He set her on her feet, kept a protective arm around her, and grabbed the lead that still hung from Rune’s neck with his other hand. The thick smoke that had filled the cavern was finally clearing. Fionn crafted his magic into a teleport spell, added a silent prayer it wouldn’t boomerang them back into this infernal cave—or somewhere worse—and pulled them through.
They emerged into the pallid light that passed for day on the borderworld; the fortress rose behind them. The sea serpents hissed and lunged, but they were far enough away it didn’t matter. Bella flew from goddess-only-knew where, attached herself to Fionn’s shoulder, and pecked his head.
“Happy to see you.”
“I’m glad to see you too,” he told his bird.
Rather than staying put, she opened her wings and fluttered to Rune’s back. “Tell me everything,” she demanded. “I was worried about you.”
Fionn watched them move off to one side and chuckled. “Och aye, and my bird appears to have switched allegiance.”
Aislinn rolled her eyes. “They’re close. It’s fine.” She lowered her voice and spoke near his ear. “Bella’s figuring out where she fits now that it’s not just you and her anymore. It’s a process, but she’s finding her way.”
Fionn hoped so. The bird could be the original bitch on wheels when she felt slighted. He turned as Kra and Berra closed on them, followed by the seven young dragons. Fionn blinked. The younglings were half the size of the adults, or even a little bigger. Christ, but they’d grown fast.
“Is it finished?” Kra asked, his dark eyes spinning.
“Almost,” Fionn said. “The dragon brood truly saved the day. What moxie. Racing headlong into a demon portal like they did. Not that I wouldna have, mind you.”
Aislinn snorted. “You’re disappointed you didn’t think of it first.”
“Aye, that too.”
Gateways popped open around them, and humans spilled through, followed by Andraste, Arawn, Bran, Gwydion, Nidhogg, and Dewi. The Hunters and their bond animals, who’d sat out the battle, surged forward to meet the newcomers.
Once everyone was accounted for, Timothy called to Fionn. “We’re leaving. See you back at your manor house.”
Fionn trotted to his side and shook his hand. “Thank you for all your help. I hope there aren’t many more battles, but I’d be honored to fight by your side again.”
After a long pause, Timothy smiled, and his hazel eyes glowed with warmth. He gripped Fionn’s hand harder. “The feeling’s mutual, Celt.”
Gwydion leaned his staff against his body and dusted his hands together as he watched the humans summon teleport spells and disappear through portals. “It appears the gateways are functioning again.”
“Which means Adva packed up just like I predicted.” Fionn grinned.
“He isna gone,” Arawn said. “None of them are.”
“Ye’ll have to find another foe,” Fionn said. “I suspect the dark gods will be quiescent for long years after this.” He kissed Aislinn’s forehead and walked to the young black dragon. Once there, he bowed. “I thank you for your courage and quick thinking.”
The youngling bowed back. “Appreciated.”
When Fionn straightened, the dragon winked lazily. “There were a few tense moments.”
“There always are,” Fionn said. “Times when ye’re almost certain ye made a fatal mistake.” He sent a knowing glance at the dragon’s whirling eyes and waited to see if he’d find out what really happened.
“Yes, but those are the times it’s important to believe in yourself.” The dragon winked once more, clearly not wanting to say anything further. Whatever had happened in that tunnel would remain between him and his eggmates.
Mayhap, ’tis how it should be, Fionn thought. He’d never been particularly forthcoming about the details of victories, preferring to hold them close to the vest.
Fionn grasped one of the dragon’s forelegs in an effort at a handshake. The dragon gripped his hand, watching where his sharp talons landed. “Ye did well,” Fionn said. “I’ll look for great things as ye continue to grow.”
The black youngling threw his shoulders back, and his scales clattered against each other. “We”—he cast a wingtip to encompass his eggmates—“are Earth’s hope. Today was just the beginning. There is much damage to undo. It will make a life’s work—for all of us. This was foretold. I saw it in Father’s memories.”
Nidhogg snorted, blowing steam. “That’s one advantage of a fresh pair of eyes. He was able to pick through millions of bits of information and sort dross from gold.”
Dewi hustled to Fionn’s side and eyed her hatchlings. “I’m proud of all of you,” she said, “but next time, tell one of us what you’re doing.”
“How?” The black youngling stared his mother down. “You’d moved us far away.”
“I was trying to keep you safe,” she protested.
“We weren’t born to be safe.” One of the red females came forward. She bowed stiffly in front of her mother. “I railed against that fate, but I’ve come to accept it.”
“Pull up your head,” Dewi instructed sharply. “Dragons bow to no one.”
The red female raised her snout and met her mother’s gaze. “I bow to you, Mother. I will be the next Celtic dragon god, and I have a lot to learn.”
A slow smile split Dewi’s jaws, and smoke bubbled through her nostrils. “Daughter. It bodes well that the future has shown itself to you. I’d be honored to be your teacher.”
Nidhogg’s rumbling laughter filled the air. “It seems both our understudies are in place. You and I can take a long vacation.”
“I don’t think so,” young Nidhogg piped up. “You have lots to teach me, and there’s no time to waste.”
“Definitely your son.” Dewi snorted fire. “Pushy, sure of himself.”
“You fell in love with me.” Nidhogg sidled next to her.
“Guess I’m one sick bitch since I like pushy, arrogant men.” Dewi smiled fondly at her mate.
A portal burst forth, fiery in the dead air of the borderworld, and Royce and Vaughna leaped through spewing fire.
“There they are!” Vaughna trumpeted and moved as fast as she could to the black youngling. “You should be horsewhipped.” She blasted him with fire.
Royce joined her, fastened his talons around young Nidhogg’s neck, and lifted him off the ground. “I demand an explanation.”
The black youngling dipped his head. “And I owe you one. I am sorry—”
“Sorry doesn’t cut it,” Vaughna screeched. “We went all the way to Taltos looking for you.”
“And rammed a broad swathe through those foul reptiles,” Royce broke in.
Nidhogg trudged over and inclined his head toward Royce and Vaughna. “I apologize for my offspring. What they did was wrong, but they’ve redeemed themselves since arriving here.” He cleared his throat. “Please put him”—he jerked a talon at young Nidhogg—“down, and tell us what happened in Taltos.”
Royce dropped the young dragon, who landed with a solid thunk, and said, “We blew it up.”
“How?” Dewi moved closer and hauled young Nidhogg to his feet. He dusted himself off and faded back into the group of his eggmates.
“We were in that tunnel beneath Taltos, grabbing Lemurians who wandered by and torturing them until they told us what we needed to know about the dragon brood,” Vaughna said. Her jaws parted in a self-satisfied smile.
“Once we were quite sure the younglings weren’t there,” Royce added, “we tuned in to a harmonic running through the tunnel, experimented a bit, and changed the frequency.”
Vaughna snorted, blowing smoke. “We thought we’d just give those slimy bastards a bit of a headache. No one was more surprised than us when the whole damned place began going off like a firecracker. We barely had time to teleport out of there.”
“Why’d you come here?” Dewi asked. “Rather than back to Fionn’s?”
“We weren’t certain we’d find you here,” Royce said. “If we didn’t, we’d have checked the other borderworld, but we had to report in and let you know we’d failed and your children were missing.”
Nidhogg nodded slowly. “Thank you for your loyalty.” He swiveled his neck around and eyed the next Norse dragon god. “You owe a huge apology to Royce and Vaughna. I order you and your eggmates into their service for six months after we return. Anything they need, you will provide for them, including hunting for their food.”
“That’s scarcely necessary—” Vaughna began, narrowing her copper eyes.
“Yes, it is,” Dewi broke in. “Even though what my brood did had a good outcome, the way they went about it was wrong, and this is a way to teach them they must take responsibility for their mistakes.”
“How about if we all go home?” Gwydion shouted to be heard above the din of dragon voices.
“What do ye think?” Fionn made his way back to Aislinn, Rune, and Bella.
“I’d love to go home,” Aislinn said, “but first Dewi has some explaining to do.” She focused her golden gaze on the dragon, and Dewi looked away.
Oh-oh. Fionn’s gut tightened. This canna be good.
He made one more trip to stand in front of Dewi and Nidhogg, with Aislinn in tow this time. “What magic did ye wield to Heal her so quickly?” he demanded, never taking his eyes from the dragons.
“It is generally forbidden—” Nidhogg began.
“You couldn’t have stopped me if you’d tried.” Dewi spoke over her mate.
“Which is why I didn’t,” Nidhogg said.
“Whoa!” Aislinn looked from one dragon to the other. “You’re talking in riddles. What did you do to me, Dewi? How did you Heal me so fast, and without any other magic from you? I may have been unconscious, but my astral self saw you drop some of your blood into my open wound. That was it. Then you gave me back to Fionn.”
“My blood is magic,” Dewi said, still not looking at them.
“Ye’re hedging,” Fionn cut in. “All of us hold power in our blood. What aren’t ye saying? And why did Nidhogg say what ye did is forbidden? By whom and why?”
“You ask a lot of questions,” Dewi groused.
“At least so far, you haven’t answered a one.” Aislinn pushed closer and shoved her shoulders straighter. “It’s my body. I have a right to know what you did. Will I turn into a dragon? Have dragon babies, if I can even have children at all?”
Fionn winced. “Ye have one ovary left, lass. We should still be able to—”
“Ssht.” She waved a hand to silence him. “Not my point.” She narrowed her eyes and stared at Dewi. “I’m waiting.”
“You may as well tell her.”
Nidhogg sounded resigned.
“Tell me what?” Aislinn screeched.
Fionn felt like burying himself in Dewi’s mind and digging until he found the truth, but when he pushed into her head, she blocked him.
“If a dragon shares its blood with a human, and there’s a bond between the two before the blood is shared,” Dewi said, drawing each word out until Fionn wanted to throttle her, “the human becomes sort of, er, immortal.”
Aislinn drew back as if she’d been slapped. “Im-Immortal,” she stuttered. “What does sort of mean?”
“Not exactly immortal,” Nidhogg said, “but you’ll live as long as we do, so thousands of years without aging, or at least very little.”
A smile started in Fionn’s heart and spread to his face. “But that’s marvelous news!” He picked Aislinn up and swung her around before putting her back on her feet. “Why wouldna ye wish to tell us that?” he asked Dewi.
“Because the creed that binds dragons forbids us to interfere with the natural order of things. If we saved every single human who was near death, it would play hell with Earth’s population.”
“But ye said ye had to be bonded for it to work,” Fionn pointed out. “Surely a bond like the MacLochlainn one is rare.”
“Any human who receives dragon blood will live for at least a thousand years,” Nidhogg clarified. “The few with bonds to dragons live much longer. You can see how that sort of power could be easily abused.” Smoke plumed from his mouth. “If humans found out—especially once they had magic of their own at their disposal—they’d have laid traps for us, kidnapped us, kept us alive much like the dark gods did with me here, and fed off our blood, probably selling it to the highest bidder. Not that they’d have had an easy time of it, but they’d have made our lives hell evading them.”
Dewi nodded. “If that didn’t work, they’d have tried to kill us outright.” She eyed Fionn and Aislinn. “You can never talk with anyone, outside of those here, about what I did.” She hesitated. “Most of the Celts know the legend. I’m not sure how it bypassed Fionn. Gwydion figured out what I’d done quick enough. He nagged me to tell you and Aislinn every time he got close to me during the battle.”
