“To Fire and Earth!” everyone echoed and cheered.
All but my husband, who glared at me.
“Stop it,” I whispered to him. “You're ruining the celebration with things that don't matter.”
Arach sighed and took my hand. “I disagree, A Thaisce. You do matter. You matter far too much for my liking.”
“That's so sweet, Dragon.” I leaned in and gave him a kiss. A real kiss. One that wasn't magical per se, but sure felt it.
While we kissed, I prayed to Faerie that she look after my husband while I was gone. Maybe she'd hear me, maybe she wouldn't, but it was no skin off my back to ask.
Chapter Thirty-Nine
I drank and danced and ate until Arach and I were both sprawled in our chairs like Rory, Rivella, and Cahal. Then I looked at Arach. Past, present, future—I loved him. I loved arrogant Arach and sweet Arach. I loved bloodthirsty Arach and tender Arach. All the facets of who he had been, was, and would be were beautiful to me. Together, they made the man I loved.
One of them.
A heaviness entered my chest, and I knew what had to be done. It was time. Time to reset time. Arach was at ease, but he wouldn't stay that way. Plans would start churning, his silver tongue would start spinning its magic. And I had so much to get back to. I couldn't let my love for Arach destroy everything else. He was waiting for me in our future. With our children.
“Good luck, my friend,” I whispered to Rory as I held my hand out to him and turned my back on Arach. “Rule well, as I know you will. Don't let the weight of the crown change you or pull you down.”
Rory's eyes widened, and he nodded. “I won't. And thank you. It's been a pleasure getting to know you, Queen Vervain. And a great honor. You have changed my life.”
“Hopefully, not too much.” As I took Rory's hand, I grasped his ring of remembrance and pulled. He let me slide it off his finger. Holding it in my fist, I turned to look at Arach. “I love you, Dragon. I hope that's enough to sustain you through the many years to come. But don't pine for me. Let this give you hope without heaviness. Let your thoughts of the future warm you, but not stifle you. You're a virile man, as you so often tell me. I don't want you to suffer or waste your years on some misguided sense of fidelity. Have fun, Arach. You're not married yet. Enjoy yourself. Enjoy all the lovers to come. Know that I want that for you. And I'll see you again, my love.”
Arach frowned, then blinked, but by the time he realized this was a goodbye, I had already asked the ring of remembrance to take me back to our daughter's room, a minute after I had last left. As I started to fade, two things happened; I tossed the ring to Rory, and Arach lunged for me.
“Vervain!” Arach's roar followed me through time.
Chapter Forty
The old Arach's cry was still echoing in my ears when I appeared at the foot of Samara's bed.
My children shrieked, and I closed my eyes in relief as the boys smacked into me. Samara was next, but Arach was close behind her, gathering us together in his arms. The kids started to cry, all of them, and in the chaos, my nurial, Dexter ran into the room, his ears flopping and his six legs pumping. He yipped and nudged the back of my leg with his nose.
“I'm fine,” I said, reaching down to pet Dex. “Relax, everyone. I'm fine. I just had a little adventure.”
“An adventure?” Arach asked as he stepped back.
“I met Rivella.”
Samara sniffed and looked up at me. “Cinderelly?”
“Yes, her. And she was very beautiful.” I grinned. “The ring took me back to that time and—”
“Ahhh!” Arach shouted. No, not shouted, he roared in pain and fell to his knees.
“Arach!” I ran over to him, Dexter jumping and barking around him. As I fell to the ground before him, it hit me too.
Memories. New memories.
Within the tearing pain in my mind was some relief. I hadn't changed the past much, all the major stuff was the same, especially in the other realms. But Arach was different. There had been tiny changes in our lives, despite his efforts to keep to his path. And those changes asserted themselves now that I had returned. Memories overlapped. Intertwined. The old memories couldn't be broken or written over. So the new ones fell over the old like snow, double scenes playing out in our minds to create mental hiccups that manifested as physical agony.
“I'm getting help!” Rian cried.
“No!” Brevyn said. “This will be over soon. It can't be helped. Or stopped. To interfere might hurt them more.”
Samara wailed.
