“Word gets round. It isn’t every day rider and dragon bond and take their first flight. Take a moment for them, fly on a bit, and we’ll circle.”
“I could fly forever.”
She lifted an arm, swept it in a wave to Finola and Seamus, flew low enough to smell the glory of their gardens, hear the cheers of children who ran along the road.
They flew over the lake where as a boy Keegan had lifted the sword from its pale green waters, and on, on over hill and forest before turning back.
“Best you follow me through the portal, as you haven’t gone through this way before on your own.”
As dusk spread and shadows gathered, he banked toward the Welcoming Tree, and Lonrach glided after.
Out of Talamh and into Ireland, over the forest, and toward the bay, and the cottage where lights gleamed from the windows.
When they landed, Breen once again lay herself over her dragon’s sinuous neck.
The door opened. Bollocks bulleted out to leap and race in circles. Lonrach lowered, and the dog rose up on hind legs to lap at the great, majestic head.
“They’ll be good friends,” Breen stated.
“Sure as they’re both yours and you theirs.” Keegan swung down as Brian walked out.
“So his wait’s over. Marco, you’ll want to come out.”
Wiping his hands on a dishcloth, Marco started for the door. “I just want to— Holy shit! Two of them. What are you doing up there, girl?”
“This is Lonrach, and he’s mine.”
Keeping his distance, Marco hooked the cloth in his waistband. “You went and bought a dragon?”
“No. He’s just mine.” She slid down, stroked one hand on the dragon, the other on the dog. “And he’d never hurt you.”
“What’re you gonna do with him?”
“Ride. Learn. Love.”
“Girl, I love you more than my new harp, and that’s a lot. But I ain’t never getting up on that thing.”
With a wink for Breen, Brian put an arm around Marco. “I’m thinking never’s not as long as you think.”
“It’s as long as never. Where’s he going to sleep?”
“Dragon’s Nest. The mountain. He’ll know when I need him. I’ll know when he needs me. Tomorrow,” she said, then stepped back.
With Cróga, he rose up, the wind of wings blowing through her hair. They circled together as the first stars flickered on.
They skimmed over the trees, and away.
“Huh.” Marco just shook his head. “I think we could all use a drink. I got the chicken and dumplings going and put together a charcuterie board. So I think it’s time to show off my bartending skills.”
“I can smell the chicken, and wouldn’t say no to a drink.” Keegan started inside. “And what’s this charcuterie then?”
CHAPTER TWENTY-SIX
While Breen and the others dug into Marco’s chicken and dumplings, Shana entered Odran’s private chambers.
He’d sent her an invitation—a command, but she preferred invitation—to dine with him. She’d changed into a more formal gown, one of deep gold with a daringly deep neckline.
She’d draped herself with jewels, and found the servant given her had an acceptable skill with hair. She wore it swept up to showcase her face—and the jewels.
She’d expected grandeur and luxury in the god’s private rooms, but they exceeded even her expectations.
The black glass walls shined like mirrors. Hundreds of candles shot light from stands of polished gold. More gold stood as columns flanking the hearth where a fire blazed. Furnishings, a long divan, wide, high-backed chairs wore gold, silk, or velvet—and really, could one have too much gold?
Jewels dripped from lamps on marble tables, and the windows held views of the night-dark sea.
He sat at his ease at a table set for two, luxuriously with gold plates, crystal goblets, platters of meat, serviettes of gold linen.
She dipped into a deep curtsy. “My lord.”
“Sit.” He waved a hand at a female servant, one who wore only a collar, like a dog, to pour the wine.
“She once sat where you are because she pleased me. Then she did not.”
When Odran lifted his wine, Shana did the same. “Then it will be my honor and duty to please you always, and in all ways.”
“We will see. You shared a bed with the taoiseach until he tired of you. Tell me what you know of him. The things a woman who’s had a man’s shaft inside her knows.”
Though it burned, she ignored the casual insult. “The Fey see him as strong, the holder of the sword and the staff, the protector of Talamh, and the defender of justice.”