by Ann Gimpel
Breath steamed through Erin’s teeth. “Seems impossible. Not that I’m doubting you.”
“It would appear inconceivable for someone raised as a mortal.” The god flipped the book’s cover open and waited while the pages riffled knowingly. Once they quieted, he focused on the runes. The book was scribed in dragonspeak, but it had been a long while since Konstantin had seen their language in that form. Over the years, it had become mostly a spoken tongue rather than a written one.
Y Ddraigh Goch raised his gold-and-silver eyebrows and flipped through a few pages, absorbing rather than reading rune by rune. He looked at Konstantin. “Did you read this, son?”
“If it’s the part about either losing the war to the serpents or teaming up with a cadre of gods to create an ice age that will finally finish the serpents off, then yes, I did read it.”
Konstantin waited. Was this when the god rolled his eyes or shook his head or burst out laughing? Deities never worked with anyone beyond their own pantheons. To expect it would happen now was akin to wishing on stardust or bringing unicorns back from the borderworld they’d retreated to to escape humans murdering them for their horns.
Y Ddraigh Goch didn’t do any of those things. He remained crouched on the floor looking thoughtful. Finally, he asked, “What are your thoughts?”
The question was so unlike the god, it caught Konstantin by surprise. “I am in favor of the primal ice solution, but a modified version where we freeze the seas where the serpents are. Earth has many oceans. Surely, serpents haven’t poisoned them all.”
“That option is much more difficult,” Y Ddraigh Goch replied. “Why do you prefer it?”
“It spares innocent creatures also living in the sea,” Erin said.
“But the land would protect them, hold them in stasis.”
“Maybe,” Konstantin cut in. “I have had limited success dealing with her. Our last go-round, she tried to kill Erin.”
“Pfft.” The god did shake his head then. “Earth understands you’re immortal. Perhaps she was being playful.”
“No. She was out for blood,” Erin said and shrugged. “Maybe she’s jealous and wanted Kon all to herself. I don’t know.”
“You must try harder to establish détente with her,” Y Ddraigh Goch warned sternly. “She will be a key element in our plans.”
“I understand,” Konstantin replied. “And I will.”
The god flowed to his feet. “Our first task is for me to see if the other gods will even talk with me.” He paused long enough to take a measured breath. “I believe I shall invite them here. It’s a logical location. Dragon shifters are here, as are dinosaurs and other shifter varieties. The Sidhe were here recently if my nose doesn’t deceive me.”
“They were,” Konstantin concurred. “I believe it was Oberon’s intent to meet with the Celtic gods to see if there was some way to move the seat of their power, the Dreaming, to a borderworld.”
“Something they should have done long ago,” Y Ddraigh Goch muttered, adding, “At least the Celts won’t be surprised when I approach them. They already know trouble is brewing.”
“Wouldn’t they have realized that long before Oberon’s visit?” Erin asked.
“Young woman,” the god addressed her, “if I’d known how many questions you were going to ask, I’d have left you human.”
“Sorry,” she mumbled.
“I will answer that one, though,” he went on. “The Celts are amazingly insular. More so even than dragonkind. And they are masters at ignoring what doesn’t directly concern them. If the question is have they noticed Earth going downhill? The answer is probably yes, but if the question is do they care? Then the answer is a definite no.”
“Can you make them care?” Konstantin asked.
“I do not know. Lead me to your workspace here. I must ensure it’s an acceptable spot for our guests. Assuming any show up.”
With Erin’s hand still clasped in his, Kon led the way downstairs to the great room. He’d never looked at it with a critical eye before. It fit his dragon needs perfectly. He had no idea whether a Celtic god could bide here and not deem the location beneath his dignity.
Y Ddraigh Goch turned in a circle regarding the high-ceilinged chamber with its visible veins of precious minerals in the walls. “This will do fine. While the two of you get some refreshments together, I’ll issue a call to others like me.”
“One last thing,” Konstantin said.
The god angled an annoyed glance his way. “What?”
“You requested food. For that, we must teleport to the surface. Did you take care of the serpents who were directly above?”
“I already said I did. Nothing would have changed between now and then. Unless Surek is beating the marsh grass hunting for me, but even he isn’t quite that thickheaded.” He made shooing motions. “You have your assignment. Get moving.”
Konstantin sensed Erin’s irritation at being treated like a servant. He hustled her out of the room before she said something ill-advised. They stopped in the kitchen long enough for him to take stock of what provisions remained.
“How can you tolerate being treated like a—?” Erin began.
Konstantin shook his head. “He only looks like a man. Y Ddraigh Goch is our deity. What it means is we respect him and do his bidding. Can you cook?”
Erin snorted. “You’re joking, right? I used to live on takeout and hospital food. They feed doctors for free.”
“We’ll figure something out. Katya’s pretty decent in the kitchen. I get by. Maybe she’ll teach us whatever magic she employs. Let’s get moving.”
“Where are we going?”
“To tell Ylon and any other shifters we find what’s in the works. After that, we’re going hunting.”
Erin smiled. “My dragon likes hunting.”
“Of course, she does. And if we only serve platters of roasted meat, the other gods will chalk us up as a bunch of savages, but they’ll eat whatever is in front of them.”
“No vegans in the group?” She arched a blonde brow.
“What’s that?” Konstantin asked.
“Kind of like vegetarians raised to the nth degree. I was joking. Let’s get this show on the road.”
He crossed the room to where she stood and closed his arms around her. “I love you. Thank you for honoring me by becoming my mate.”
Erin hugged him back. “My, so formal. Like I said, wait a year or two. If you’re still thanking me then, we’ll have an excellent chance of not killing one another.”
“I’m not worried.” He chuckled and let her go. “You feel too good in my arms. If we don’t get moving—”
“We may not leave?” Grinning, she swiped her mouth over his, turned, and ran lightly out the door.
Katya
“There,” Katya called to Johan. “That’s the last of them. I had no idea there’d be so many.” She surveyed rows upon rows of planting beds they’d moved to the C level of their complex because it still had a functioning drip system for its fields.
“Good thing we went when we did,” Johan said.
“That was because of your quick thinking.” She sent a fond smile winging his way.
“Polar climates are hard on everything that lives in them,” he replied. “I assumed with everyone at Arctowski either dead or dying from hemorrhagic fever, no one would be paying any attention to the crops.”
“Why would they?” She shrugged pragmatically. “Dead men don’t eat.”
“I am grateful we did not bring Erin. All those bodies would have made her sad.”
“I sensed a few still alive, but you’re right. She would have wanted to see if she could help the survivors, and it wasn’t why we were there.”
Johan twisted spigots and rearranged tubing. “’Where did you get all this stuff? Definitely human manufacture.”
She rolled her eyes. “We may have borrowed an item or two. In the dead of night. From shops in Buenos Aires. We started in Ushuaia but couldn’t find what we
needed.”
“What I meant was where did you get the idea to set up this watering system in the first place?”
Katya walked to where he was working and spread out a few of the hard-sided clear tubes. “What? Do you think humans are the only ones who’ve ever grown crops? Of course, we could achieve the same thing with magic, but why squander power when we can set up a mechanical system that accomplishes the same thing?”
He angled his head and blew her a kiss. “Makes sense. We ran through a lot of magic moving all of these.”
“And it will take time to fully recover. At least we bypassed the headland—and the serpents.”
“Wonder how that is going,” he murmured. “The fires should be out. Do you suppose Bennet is still skulking about?”
Katya straightened. Something about Johan’s question caught her attention. “Did he bother you? I mean, he’s a total jackass, but are you worried about him?”
Johan hesitated, perhaps collecting his thoughts. “The part that irritated me was his assumption he could snap you up whenever he wanted.”
“Pfft. Yeah, well, let him try. My dragon would take his on for almost any reason. She always was a stronger warrior.”
He dusted dirt off his hands and turned to face her. “So much of this is new. I understand—sort of—how being in love feels. What I had not counted on is this…ferocity. A need to possess all of you, body, mind, and soul.”
“It’s the dragon way—and the magic of the mate bond. I feel the same about you. We belong to each other. Had Bennet been female and made a play for you, I’d probably have scratched her eyes out.”
He smiled, and it made him so knockout gorgeous, she wanted to take him right there. They still hadn’t managed a mating flight, something her beast reminded her of regularly.
“Oops. Damn it!”
“What?” she asked, still contemplating racy sex in the middle of the planter beds.
“The seeds. We had them tucked into the beds, but they are not here.”
Katya scanned the field that sat next to the third lake. No seeds. They’d ferried the raised beds with magic. Seed bags would be easier. “Once more,” she said and held out both hands.
He clasped them and chanted with her. They’d recited this incantation so many times, they no longer stumbled over any of the sections. Their first attempts had been from the Arctowski end. A quick trip back beneath the Antarctic ice sheet had shown them it wasn’t the most efficient use of power.
Despite employing directional vectors, only one of the first three raised beds had made it to where they wanted. They’d had to hunt down the other two. After that, they’d returned to the Polish base and earmarked the remainder of the beds with magical vectors. They’d done the same with about twenty bags of seeds, and then they’d placed the seed bags in various planter beds.
The beds had responded to their magic, but not the seed bags. One by one, they plopped down around them. This time, their drawing spell worked. Perhaps they’d asked too much of it before.
“Is this all of them?” Johan asked.
“I think so. Let’s get them inside to protect them from moisture.” Short of breath from using so much power, she picked up four of the sacks and headed for the C Level dwelling.
“I will get a few too.” Johan sounded as trashed as she felt. It took a ridiculous amount of magic to move inanimate objects. Much easier to move yourself. He followed her inside. “It smells like you in here.”
“Is that a complaint?”
“Not at all. I love your scent. I was wondering why.”
She led the way two levels down to the kitchen. All the dwellings had been constructed similarly on purpose. No reason to do otherwise. After clearing dust out of a cupboard, she plopped the seed bags on a shelf. Johan did the same.
“I sometimes use this lodging for my seer magic, and I was here rather recently.”
“I would like to know more about how that type of enchantment works, but we should retrieve the remainder of the seeds.”
Katya tested her magic and decided walking back and forth a couple of times was a better bet than running the last of her power down to bedrock teleporting the bags. Two more trips did the trick.
“Have a seat.” Katya patted one of the chairs that lined both sides of a long, wooden table.
“I should make certain all the water lines are functioning.”
“We can do that later. We deserve a break.”
Johan had asked about her seer ability. It seemed like ages had passed since she’d consulted her glass, and Konstantin had broken the mirror to stop her vision. The memory of that episode chilled her and was a harsh reminder not to involve Johan in any of her scrying attempts. It had taken her twin many tries to shatter the glass and sever her connection to sorcerous magic.
“We did good work today,” she said to open a fresh topic.
“Maybe, but I could sleep for a few hours. There must be a way to strengthen my magic.”
“Being mated to me will help. Beyond that, use and time.” She closed a hand over his and squeezed gently.
“Are you back yet?” Kon’s voice rattled through her head.
“Oh-oh.” Johan screwed his mouth into a frown. “I know that tone from your brother. He wants something.”
“He does, indeed,” Katya agreed.
“We’re on C level,” she replied. “Getting the planters set up.”
“Is anything edible available right now?”
It was an odd question, coming from a dragon who could hunt to feed himself. “Sure. Why?”
“We’re about to have, erm, company. We need to prepare food for them.”
Johan was clearly following the conversation because he spun his hands in circles. She wanted more information too, but they could figure out what was going on when they got to where Konstantin was.
“How many guests?” she asked. If they were going to bring something to prepare, it would help if she knew if she was cooking for ten or fifty.
“Not sure. You might plan for twenty or so.”
“Got it. See you soon.”
Johan was already on his feet. “Do you suppose the Sidhe are returning?”
She shrugged. “Anybody’s guess, but they’re the most likely. Who else would we host?”
“Do we have baskets or bags? Something we can carry things in?”
Katya scooped some cloth sacks from a lower shelf, and they returned to the neat rows of planter beds. Spinach, kale, onions, zucchini, and cucumbers looked promising. She sprinkled magic on every cut to encourage the plant to grow another leaf or vegetable to take the place of the ones they culled.
“I would prefer to walk back,” Johan said, “unless it is much farther than I think.”
“Walking works for me,” she said.
Half an hour later, the lake nearest their home came into view. They’d chatted of this and that, but both of them were tired. From long habit, she scented the air except this time she hoped for a clue who their guests might be. Her eyes widened. “Y Ddraigh Goch is here.”
“Good. We need him.”
Katya sniffed some more and grinned.
“What? I wish I had your nose.”
“They did it!” Katya squealed and walked faster, intent on congratulating her twin and Erin.
“Who did what?” Johan hustled after her.
She turned toward him. “Kon and Erin. They’re mated. From the way things smell, they managed to have sex in both forms.”
Steam puffed from her mouth, joining clouds from Johan. Their dragons clearly adored the idea. Talons popped through where she clutched the bags of produce.
“No!” She kept her voice stern.
“Why not?” her beast bugled.
“There you are!” Konstantin ran toward them.
Katya didn’t bother negotiating with her bondmate. Konstantin’s presence was all the answer necessary.
“Here we are,” she agreed. “I’d hug you, but my hands are full. Congratula
tions to you and Erin!”
“Thank you.” His stern expression was replaced by a warm smile.
“Where’s your brand-new mate?” Katya asked.
“In the kitchen looking like she wants to kill me. We brought back fish to prepare, and I found a goat at one of the research stations.”
“You stole a goat?” Johan asked, followed by, “Congratulations. I am happy for you both.”
“It isn’t as if they were using the goat for anything other than study purposes,” Konstantin said. “We needed it worse than they did.”
“What do we need it for?” Katya asked. Her bondmate was still raising hell. Everyone had had sex except her, and she was feeling left out of the fun.
“Y Ddraigh Goch is here—” Kon began.
“I already figured that part out,” Katya cut in. “What does him being here have to do with us cooking for twenty?”
“He’s doing his damnedest to gather a conclave of gods. He read the book, and—”
“What book? The same one we found in the library?” Johan asked.
Konstantin nodded. “As I suspected, it was written by the First Dragon and Y Ddraigh Goch. He is doing what he can to awaken the first part of the book’s prophecy. The one requiring various deities to cooperate.”
“And we’re cooking for gods and goddesses who may not come because—?” Katya asked.
“Y Ddraigh Goch asked us to.”
“Sounds positively medieval,” Johan said, “but naturally we will help.”
A plaintive bleat was followed by a galloping goat with Erin close behind it. “Come back here, you little fucker,” she screeched.
A white goat with brown markings ran right to Katya and buried its head in her side, bleating piteously. She dropped the sacks of produce to cradle its head. “Don’t worry,” she crooned. “No one will hurt you.”
Erin skidded to a halt, panting. “I’m no good at all at this. All my meat came from restaurants or the store. Besides, he’s cute. I hesitated instead of killing him, and he was smart enough to skedaddle.”
Katya knelt next to the goat and held it, infusing soothing magic until it quit trembling.
