To Love a Highland Dragon (27 page)

“Seems it leaves you in a bit of a pickle, too,” Maggie sneered. “Lachlan won’t stop trying to return to me, which means he won’t be doing what you want him to back in the fifteen hundreds.”

“Ye doona know that.” Aquamarine eyes grazed over her, sharp as razor blades.

“Yes,” Maggie said. “I do. I’ve never been more sure of anything in my life.”

The air in the room took on a numinous quality. Maggie sent her nascent magic spinning outward. Were more Celts arriving? It didn’t feel like their brand of energy, though. Not quite. Mary Elma and Mauvreen raised their hands to call power. Both witches’ expressions were grim. The Inverness witches raced to them, formed a rough circle, and dragged Maggie into its heart.

“What’s happening?” Maggie cried. “Are we under attack?”

Lachlan wandered deep within Kheladin’s magic. The first bonding had been different because he’d been the one casting the spell and controlling it. This time, he caught glimpses of the dragon’s mind and heart that he’d never seen before. “To think I missed so much,” he murmured.

“We both did,” Kheladin replied. “The mage version of the bonding was fast, but it cheated both of us out of the richness we could have shared. There.” The dragon, who’d kept a taloned foreleg on Lachlan’s shoulder throughout the casting, moved back. His whirling eyes speared Lachlan’s gaze and held it. “I believe ’tis complete.”

“Ye doona know?”

Smoke streamed from Kheladin’s open mouth. “How could I? ’Tis my first attempt. We must test it afore we depart.”

Lachlan nodded. “Aye, sound plan. See if ye can merge yourself within me.”

Kheladin shook his head. “Ye must join with me. If it works, we shall separate and tackle the tunnels that link time.”

Lachlan opened his mouth to protest but thought better of it. The dragon had risked goddess-only-knew-what to bring them a priceless gift. It wasn’t a time to argue about who would control their partnership. A thought intruded; Lachlan recognized it as truth.
In the future, we shall truly be equals, the dragon and me. ’Tis better this way, and I doona wish to get us off to a rocky beginning.

Resolve firmly in hand, Lachlan summoned the magic to merge with Kheladin. Surprise nearly undid his casting, for rather than it taking any effort at all, he flowed effortlessly into his bond mate. Before, such a spell had taken a fair jolt of power and an ongoing infusion of magic to hold himself within the dragon.

“Is this easier, or is it my imagination?”

Kheladin’s rumbling laughter sounded in Lachlan’s mind.
“’Tis the original spell meant for this purpose. It shouldna come as a surprise for it to feel natural.”

Of course. I should have known.
Lachlan had bent many spells to other than their unique purpose—always at great cost to himself. Magic had a price. It took time to recover from expending great gobs of it. That the new dragon bond wouldn’t take away from their mutual power came as a pleasant surprise. The thought racing in on its heels was, “Perhaps it would give us the edge we need to defeat Rhukon.”

Lachlan shimmered back into his human form. “Unless there is aught else we need to do here, ’tis long past time to be gone.”

“Agreed.” Kheladin looked at the spot where his neck and body joined.

Lachlan gathered air into a cushion and rode it to the dragon’s back. “Ready. Tell me what we will be doing.”

“I will tell you as we travel. Hold tight. We must fly into the tunnel.” A whooshing filled Lachlan’s ears. The day’s brightness shaded to a pearlescent gray as they took to the air. The sensation of being snared in powerful magic surrounded him. Everything from his scalp to his fingertips tingled, but the feeling wasn’t unpleasant.
I’ve been bonded to this creature for a verra long time. How could I have underestimated his power so badly?

“Because you never took the time to truly explore it.”

“Forgive me. I willna make the same mistake twice. Tell me more.”

“Dragons were forged in the heat of Fire Mountain. For long years, they stayed on that world outside time. ’Tis hard to explain precisely, but Fire Mountain exists in its own universe, separated from Earth by time veils. We would have stayed there forever, separated from humankind, but one day long years ago, a group of Celtic goddesses paid us a visit.”

“Brighid and Andraste?”

Kheladin snorted flames.
“Aye, and Ceridwen. They convinced our elders that dragons were needed if Earth was to survive. The Trojan War had just ended, and things were in disarray. The Cyclops and the Minotaur were running wild…

“Anyway, ye know history. No need for me to repeat it.”

“They convinced you to help.”
Lachlan mentally rolled his eyes.

“In a manner of speaking. The Celts can be quite persuasive when they want something.”

Lachlan nodded his understanding.
Persuasive
was an understatement. Pushy, abrasive, and insistent described them far better.
“Help me understand. Arawn told me dragons were the first time travelers. If you never left Fire Mountain afore the goddesses’ visit—”

“Our seers figured it out eons before, in case we needed to leave. We’d just never used the skill.”
Kheladin blew out smoke and fire.
“There are tunnels, for want of a better word, that circle Earth. Two of them. One for going forward in time, the other backward. They are not particularly easy to access, but once within them, ye can move through time.”

Something plucked at the edges of Lachlan’s consciousness.
“Hold. Do ye sense aught in here but us?”

The dragon stiffened. Lachlan felt a shift in the rolling bands of muscle beneath his legs. He joined his magic to the dragon’s and threw his senses wide open.
Yes!
He hadn’t been mistaken. Alien energy lurked behind them. Someone was trying their damnedest to shield it. Lachlan’s stomach tightened.

Kheladin loosed a string of Gaelic curses.
“I doona know how, but someone followed us into the tunnel. They are keeping their distance, but ’tis only a matter of time afore they make a move.”

Lachlan gazed about them, taking in their surroundings with a practiced eye. Not a good place to defend themselves. There wasn’t much room for the dragon to manoeuver.
“What happens to the tunnel if we loose defensive strikes?”

“I doona know, but we mustna injure it. If we do, I fear we shall render it unusable.”

Lachlan considered that piece of information but not for very long. Much as he wanted to race to Maggie’s side, needed to feel her body pressed against him and know she was safe in his arms, continuing their present course would be foolhardy. He wound strong magic around his next words to shield them.
“It doesna matter where we are. Exit the tunnel. We will stand and fight.”

The dragon hesitated so long, Lachlan wondered what was wrong. Waiting was excruciating, but he bit back a frantic flow of words.

“Thank ye for giving me time to think,”
Kheladin said at length.
“What follows us is closer. I canna abort the spell midstream, but I believe I can return us to the 1500s with your help.”

Lachlan groaned inwardly. They’d already lost more time than he was comfortable with. What if Maggie had been captured, too? Yet he recognized the dragon’s wisdom.
“Tell me what to do.”

Magic buffeted him from all sides, pressure growing until he was afraid they’d be crushed. He clung to consciousness by digging his hands into Kheladin’s scales. Pain from their sharp edges kept him awake. As his blood mingled with the dragon’s hide, he felt slightly better.
Aye.
He laughed grimly.
Never underestimate the power of blood.
The pearl-toned gray brightened, and Lachlan looked out at the standing stones on the Isle of Skye. Kheladin landed, wheeled to face the still-visible swirling vortex of the tunnel, and trumpeted a ringing challenge.

Lachlan readied himself to jump down, but the dragon said, “Stay atop me until we see what we face. Doona lower your guard. Something comes.”

“It must be Rhukon.”

Fire streamed from Kheladin’s mouth. “My thoughts exactly. Who else would chivy us so? What I wish to know is how he got hold of the magic to enter the tunnel.”

“I know ye would wish it otherwise,” Lachlan picked his words cautiously in an attempt at diplomacy, “but he is still a dragon.”

“Barely.” Contempt filled Kheladin’s tone. “Black dragons are barred from Fire Mountain—as are reds.” The vortex pulsed, turning an angry crimson. “See,” he angled a wingtip. “Even the tunnel knows it hosts unnatural energy.”

“I’ll thank you to keep a civil tongue in your head, youngling.” The black wyvern shot from the tunnel in a halo of sparks. As Lachlan watched, the dragon’s form shimmered into Rhukon.
Aha! So he must hold one form or the other.
Lachlan was just congratulating himself on an easy victory, when the red wyvern burst from the vortex just before it snapped shut with an earsplitting clang.

“What have ye done with Maggie?” Lachlan gritted the words out.

“What makes ye believe we’ve done aught with the lass?” Rhukon simpered. “Not that I wouldna love to sample the goods. Did she tell you I kissed her—?”

“Shut the hell up,” Lachlan screeched. “Ye besmirch her name when it passes your lips. She is my wife and mate.”

Rhukon shrugged. “It willna do you much good if ye canna return to her.”

Lachlan’s gaze flickered to the red wyvern. Apparently, Connor planned to retain his dragon form. Well-versed in warfare, Lachlan understood they were evenly matched that way. Mage and dragon against mage and dragon. Unfortunately, it could mean a lengthy contest—something he could ill afford without knowing for certain if Maggie were safe.

“How did ye enter the tunnel?” Kheladin’s voice vibrated with barely suppressed fury at what he obviously considered a violation of sacred ground.

“Sloppy work on your part, youngling.” Connor’s dragon form smirked. “Ye dinna close off your casting soon enough—”

“Quiet,” Rhukon roared.

Quiet, indeed,
Lachlan thought, remembering Connor had never been known for his brilliance.
At least now we know how to keep them from following us—a valuable piece of information. Mayhap I shall try a bit of flattery.

“Rhukon.” Lachlan inclined his head from his perch atop Kheladin. “My compliments. Ye were sly. Ye bested us about a hundred years hence.”

“Aye.” Rhukon’s mouth split in a satisfied grin. “That I did. It willna take much to do so again.”

Fire roared from Kheladin. Rhukon sidestepped the blast handily. The red wyvern opened its mouth, but Rhukon aimed a dismissive hand gesture his way. “I propose a bargain.”

“We doona bargain with the likes of you,” Kheladin snarled.

“Let’s at least hear what he has in mind,” Lachlan murmured. “It might be…instructive.”

Rhukon brayed laughter. “Hmph. Your lengthy nap seems to have sowed the seeds of wisdom. What I propose is really quite simple. Ye remain here—or any other place in time away from the lass—and I will let ye live.”

“If I refuse?” Lachlan tried to keep his tone neutral but failed. Danger ran beneath his words, its barbed edges rough against his tongue.

“We shall engage you in battle here and now—”

“What are we waiting for?” Kheladin cut in. “I stand more than ready.” He roared a challenge. Fire spewed from his mouth. The metallic stench of magic filled the air. Electricity crackled, and the fine hairs on the back of Lachlan’s neck stood on end. The dragon was probably right. Nothing could be accomplished with talk, yet he would have prolonged the conversation to give himself time to craft a strategy.

Lachlan clamped his jaws together. Time, if there’d ever been any, had just run out.

Kheladin’s bloodlust trumped everything; it raced through Lachlan like a heady stimulant. He didn’t remember jumping to the ground in front of Rhukon or raising his hands, but power blazed from them. When the first rush of finally trading blows with his archenemy faded, Lachlan wasn’t certain he could best Rhukon, but it didn’t dampen his enthusiasm. He jumped and spun to avoid direct hits. Off to one side, the dragons clashed together in a shower of fire, sparks, and scales, but Lachlan couldn’t divert his attention to see how Kheladin fared.

Futility crept into the corners of his mind. His shirtsleeve smoldered and caught fire.
Mayhap I canna do this…
Lachlan sidestepped another blast from Rhukon. In a moment of clarity, he understood the other mage was manipulating him by sending hopelessness mingled with compulsion. He closed his mind to all but Kheladin.

“’Tis about time,”
the dragon cried.
“I was about to intervene. Damn!”
With a flurry of wings, Kheladin rose into the sky, roaring his displeasure at the red wyvern who’d just scored his flank with magic.

Lachlan whirled in time to see Connor follow Kheladin upward. He was surprised it had taken the dragons so long to take their battle aloft.

“Aye, now ’tis just the two of us,” Rhukon growled. “Ye canna kill me.”

“Nor can ye deal me a mortal blow,” Lachlan countered, dancing back and forth on the balls of his feet.

“I verra nearly did. Asleep is as good as dead.”

An idea hit with such ferocity, Lachlan nearly missed his footing. He didn’t have time to fence with Rhukon for hours, tossing barbs and magic back and forth. Rhukon was devious. If he were trying to keep them occupied, there must be a reason. Sending a silent prayer upward, Lachlan pulled magic as fast and hard as he could.

Rhukon had stated the obvious when he’d said
asleep is as good as dead
. Lachlan chided himself for not recognizing it before. He couldn’t kill Rhukon, but if he could immobilize him, for even as little as a few minutes, it would give him and Kheladin an opportunity to escape into the time tunnel.

I should at least try to kill him.