“Never.” Magnus found himself at a loss for words, perfectly content to stand there with his scarred hand pressed to the dragon’s scale, watching her for however long the powers permitted. “What name did the youngling say the lady preferred?”
“Just simply Lyla—I believe. Without the proper address that she is due.”
“Lyla,” Magnus repeated, wondering what the name meant.“Our world will be exceedingly strange to her. The old one said that the dragons of her reality remain in hiding, never allowingthe humankind of that realm to see them and know them to be real since well before that realm’s earliest age.”
“Ye will have to win her heart early on,” Talon said. “Like I did my Talia.”
“That will depend on the fated mate bond. The pull of our souls will surely coax our hearts together.” Magnus prayed that if she were truly the one, she would easily feel the yearning too.
“With the differences in our worlds, ye will have to work doubly hard to win her and convince her to stay. She must choose of her own free will, ye ken? Mate bonds do not imprison. They merely offer a path to be chosen.”
“I would never want a woman who did not choose me freely.” Magnus leaned closer, wishing her scent would come to him across the planes. But it was not to be. He could barely hear the voices of Lyla, the apprentice, and whoever else was sitting with them at the table. “She seems troubled. Look at the tautness of her jaw. The way she clenches her teeth. That other one of her world vexes her. I see it in her eyes.”
Talon chuckled. “She does not like that one. Not at all, but she seems to like the Weaver’s youngling.”
“That is good since it will be she who helps this woman cross through the portal to us.” Magnus inched closer still and whispered, “Ye will like it here, Lyla. I shall see to it.”
Her sapphire eyes flared open wide. She perked, sitting straighter in the chair, then glanced around at her surroundings.
“She heard ye,” Talon said. “I have never seen the likes of such before. We have never been able to speak into another plane.”
Lyla shook her head as if trying to clear it, then went back to her conversation with Mairwen’s apprentice while the other one at the table, the one she did not seem to like, rose and staggered away.
“Lady Lyla…Lyla…can ye hear me?” Magnus held his breath, waiting for a reaction.
Once again, she looked all around, seeming to search the shadowy room. It appeared to be a tavern. Then she dragged a hand across her eyes as if suddenly stricken with weariness. Her reaction filled him with guilt. He didn’t wish to cause her to question her sanity. Mairwen’s apprentice showed concern. Lyla shook her head and smiled, but it was forced.
“Rest easy, my lady,” he whispered to her, smiling as she went still and lifted her head again, obviously listening. “Rest easy and know that all will become clear soon. I promise.”
The image quivered, gently rippling like a serene pool disturbed by pattering raindrops. The picture of Lyla softened and blurred, gradually dimming until she disappeared completely.
Magnus slowly lowered his hand, allowing it to drop to his side, still staring at the place where she had just been. That woman—he swallowed hard, finding it difficult to breathe, and even more impossible to reason with the strategic acuity of a wise chief. “If she is not the one…”
Talon snorted twin puffs of smoke. “She is yer one, brother. The others did not affect ye. Not like she has.” He gently tapped a claw on the scale’s rosewood frame. “And never has our blood magic enabled us to speak to a denizen still in their home plane. The Highland Veil always blocks anything more than visions.” He waggled his ridge of short brow horns. “Or it used to. Perhaps this time, there is a reason it grants ye such access.”
“Aye. A reason.” Magnus circled the room like an agitated beast searching for a place to shite. By the blood of the mighty Draig and all the other original dragonkind ancestors, what would it take to ease her out of her world and into his—willingly?
Hellys’s bone-chilling roar yanked him from his frustrated wonderings. A volley of flames shot past the windows to thewest. He crossed over to them, scanning the skies. “Who is she after? I see nothing.”
“Ye know Hellys sees that which we cannot.” Talon joined Magnus at the window in the search for whatever had triggered the unrest. “That is why she leads our guard.” He took a step back from the ledge, disappeared, then reappeared outside of it, hovering with his powerful, outstretched wings billowing with updrafts. “Shall we join her?”
“Most certainly.” Magnus unsheathed his sword, stepped onto the ledge, then leapt onto his dragon brother’s back. “She is headed south. Toward Thornpitch. She must not get too close. Those clouds will poison her.”
“Aye, she knows that, but still insists on dancing with that vile devil.” Talon unleashed a deafening roar, then shot a wall of blue-white flames around her.
The great crimson dragon slowed, tilting her broad wings to turn her massive form and face them. “One of Kcirred’s minions struck down Ipsillian with the sickness. I saw the demon infect my mate with a spell dart!” She filled the skies with an unholy roar. “I shall end this madness today! No more waiting for some savior promised by an ancient who was long overdue for his never-ending sleep. I’ll not rest until the stench of Kcirred's spilled blood and his screams for mercy fill my senses.”
“Ye canna pass through the poisons of the shield clouds. Ye know that, Hellys.” Sorrow and rage filled Magnus in equal measure. Ipsillian was not only Hellys’s mate but also a well-respected and valued member of the elite guard. “Yer mate needs ye alive and strong at his side. We will find a way to avenge him—and heal him.”
Hellys curled back her leathery lips and bared her long, sharply pointed teeth. “No disrespect, my chief, but I tire of empty promises. Tell them to the mourners at our overflowing tombs.” She cast an enraged look back at the boiling wall ofblack clouds and released another long-lasting stream of flames. The vile bank of mist sizzled and spewed but remained strong and impenetrable. Kcirred's creation guarded his dark lands well. Chest heaving, she roared again, her pain and frustration echoing across the realm.
Magnus sheathed his sword. “Come, Hellys. Take me to Ipsillian. I would have him know his chief values him greatly.”
“More than his mate values him?” she growled. “More than his children will value him once they hatch and lay eyes upon him?” She threw back her head and swept the skies with another streaming blaze of orange-red fury. “Our first clutch of young ones, and he may not be among us to celebrate his precious hatchlings.”
“He is valued by us all.” Magnus understood her pain and refused to diminish her right to it. “Allow us to show him. To show ye how we value him…and value yerself. Ye are not alone in this, and as long as Ipsillian draws breath, there is hope. Dinna let go of it. Fight for it as bravely as ye would fight Kcirred if the cowardly bastard ever showed himself. Ye are strong and mighty, Hellys. Ipsillian needs that strength and might. Come. Let us go to him.”
She fixed her golden-eyed gaze upon him. “I canna lose him, my chief. I canna bear it and neither can his kindred brother nor our children.”
