“No more than a few days old, that one. Fresh from the nesting cave.” Keegan gestured to the large opening. “There we don’t go unless invited.”
“Understood.” She stroked the amber scales. “I had a dream, right before we left for Ireland last summer. I was walking by the river, this side of the waterfall, and I saw what I thought were little birds, so colorful and quick and bright. They were baby dragons, like butterflies, circling and darting. One landed in the palm of my hand. But they don’t come that small.”
“No. But dreams aren’t always literal, are they?”
“No, but it felt real. As if we knew each other, the one I held. I even named him.”
“What name did you give him?”
“Lonrach. That’s strange.” The baby in her arms uncurled, soared away. “How would I know that word?”
“Do you know the meaning?”
“Yes. It means—”
Her heart began to pound, and in the beat another beat. Merging to pulse as one. In her mind, another mind, waiting.
Yearning.
The dragon, red tipped in gold, landed on the top of the cave. And watched her while others circled around and around, a ring of jewels.
Love burst into her, a flood, a force, a gift. And her heart wept from the joy of it.
“It means brilliant, because you are.” Tears blurred her eyes as she stepped closer, and Keegan stepped back. “And here you are. Lonrach. You’re mine. I’m yours.”
He flew down to her while the other dragons circled overhead. In his eyes she saw herself, and knew he saw himself in hers.
“I’m sorry you had to wait so long.” She touched his cheek, then just pressed her own against it. “You’re mine. I’m yours. We’re one. How did you know?” she asked Keegan.
“I’ve known of Lonrach all my life. The dragon who waits for the child of the Fey to come home. To awaken. To become. On the day of the Judgment, you stood, you spoke, you became.”
“I don’t understand, not really.”
“You didn’t see yourself, the light in you, the power of you. When we flew back, and you saw this place, you felt him as you hadn’t before. So the wait was over.”
Overwhelmed, she pressed her face to the glass-smooth scales. “I feel his heart inside mine. I feel it like my own.”
“I know.”
“This is what it’s like for you and Cróga?”
“It is, aye, and for all who make the bond. Now you’ll ride.”
“I can ride him? Yes. Yes, I can. I can. I know how. I don’t have a saddle.”
“We’ll get you one, but you’ll do fine without.”
“He wants to fly.” Drenched and drunk with love, she pressed her cheek to Lonrach again. “He wants it. I feel it.”
“I’ll give you a lift up this first time.” When he stepped over, she turned to Keegan.
“I owe you, so much, for this.”
“You don’t, no, that’s foolish.”
“It’s not, and I do. You knew, you brought me so we could find each other. You knew how and when.” She took his face in her hands, kissed him. “Thank you.”
“Then you’re welcome. Up you go.”
She laid her head down on her dragon’s neck when Keegan boosted her up. “I have to cry a minute. He gets it.”
“All right, if you must. Done?” he asked when she straightened.
“For now.” Then she simply thought: Home. Simply put the cottage into her head.
Lonrach rose up. Keegan mounted Cróga to join her.
The dragons roared, a sound of triumph, as she flew over Talamh.
And it was different, she realized, different than being a passenger, as thrilling as that had been. Now the sensation of flying swept through her as if she herself had wings.
Into clouds, around them as the last lights of the sun struck, turned them gold and violet and rose. Over the fields and forests with no sound but the rush of wind.
Then below, she saw Marg and Sedric standing in front of their cottage, faces lifted.
They’d known. Of course they’d known. Laughing, she threw her arms high when Lonrach whipped into a stylish turn because she’d wished it.
Harken streamed up beside her, with Morena riding behind him.
“Welcome, rider!” he called out before they veered away toward the setting sun.
In the valley others came out, to look up, to wave. She saw Aisling with Kavan on her hip, Mahon with Finian on his shoulders.
“How did they all know?”