“Join with me,” he repeated, and she mumbled with him.

When they finished the first incantation, the pain leaped back, sent her into gasping moans.

“I know there’s pain. Use it. You’re already stronger. We say it again now. We hold together now. Three times, it takes. So twice more.”

Not pain, she thought. This was beyond pain. She’d been lit on fire from the inside out. When she screamed, when she sobbed, he waited.

“Once more, just once more, and it’s done. I promise you.” His grip on her hand tightened. “I’m here with you. Once more.”

She had to catch her breath, had to bear down knowing that unspeakable pain would rip through her a third time.

She kept her eyes fixed on his, gold lights swimming in the green. “Join with me,” she said, and wept, unashamed, through the rest.

“There now, there, brave one, let me have a look. Don’t close your eyes, don’t sleep, not yet.”

Gently, so gently, he brushed her hair back from her damp face. “Ah, she burned you for good measure, the whore bitch. This I can fix for you, and it won’t hurt so much. Look here, do you see where the bites were, the red heat, the swelling? It’s gone. The poison’s burned away. There’s only the brand she put on you. Leave that to me.”

She let her head fall back, didn’t even have the strength to wonder that it rested against a dragon’s leg.

“Where are we? This isn’t the road by the farm, by the cottage.”

“She lured you away.”

“I hear . . . the waterfall.”

“Aye. Odran can’t come through, but she comes and goes as she pleases it seems. She meant to take you through the portal here with her dark magicks.”

“I . . .” She sighed, beyond relief as her arm cooled, as the pain, even the hint of it vanished.

“There now, that’s done.” He brushed his hand lightly over her cheek. “You did well. You did the hard and you did it well.” Then he sat back on his haunches. “Now what the bloody hell were you thinking, going off with such as Yseult?”

“I didn’t know who she was, and I was just walking to Nan’s. She asked if she could walk with me to visit Nan. She said they were friends—or implied it—then everything changed. She took the light. I had a ball of light, and she took it, crushed it.”

He held her hand still, and she wouldn’t forget that. He held her hand because hers trembled.

“Why would you have a ball of light on a clear afternoon?”

“There was fog, and it was raining and foggy, and—”

“As it was here, when I came?”

“Yes, like that.”

“Her witchery is all it was.”

“There wasn’t fog?”

“An illusion, for you.”

“But . . . how did she get me here? We only walked for a few minutes. And how did you find me? How did you know?”

“She entranced you. You were singing. I could hear you sing, but you were nowhere to be seen. She’s powerful, is Yseult, and planned it well.”

He glanced over, gauged the distance to the waterfall, to the portal.

“But not well enough. I saw your light, heard your voice. And after they were both gone, I followed the light in here.” He tapped a finger just above her heart.

Then he rose, took a skin from the saddle. “Just water. You need it after the purifying. Marg will have something to set you full to right, so don’t sleep until you are.”

“I feel . . . sort of drunk.”

“That’s not surprising, is it? It’s the first either of us have worked that spell.”

Water streamed like magic down her throat. Before she almost choked. “You never did that before? How did you know it would work?”

“It did, didn’t it? Now on your feet.” He took the skin, then simply wrapped an arm around her to haul her up. Tightened it when she swayed.

“Dizzy,” she managed, and dropped her head on his shoulder. “I need a second. I don’t think I can walk yet.”

“You won’t be walking.”

Though still limp when he swung her up, she went rigid when she ended up in the saddle.

“Oh no, I don’t think—”

He swung up behind her. “I won’t let you fall.”

Then the dragon simply lifted into the air and, like the falcon, wove through the trees as he climbed.

The wind rushed through her hair, over her face.

“You—There aren’t any reins.”

“We know where we’re going. The saddle, it’s for the rider’s comfort, and for carrying supplies.”

She wanted to just close her eyes until she could feel her feet on the ground again. But something else inside her wanted more. So she looked out at the sky—blue and white and gold. And down, at hills and fields, streams and cottages. Green and green, brown and gold again, the blue bay, the white froth. The sudden rise of an iridescent tail.

She’d thought she’d begun to understand magicks, even feel them. But until that moment, she hadn’t known.

She reached back, gripped Keegan’s hand.

“I said I wouldn’t let you fall, and we’re nearly there.”

“No, no, no. Not that. It’s . . . it’s all so amazing. It’s wonderful. It’s all so beautiful.”

Enchanted, she took her hand back, lightly stroked it over the dragon’s back. “He feels almost polished, like jewels. He protected me.”

“It’s his nature. It’s his heart.”

She saw the farm below and found herself regretting her first flight—maybe her only—had been so short.

“I’m grateful, to both of you. I’d be dead if you hadn’t come.”

“They don’t want you dead. Yet.”

With that, they landed, and Marg raced over behind a whining Bollocks.

“Where was she? What happened?”

“Yseult happened.” Keegan jumped down, then reached up and lifted Breen from the saddle. “She’ll do,” he told the dog, who pawed at his legs to try to reach Breen.

Instead of putting her down, he swung her up again to carry her toward the house.

“I can walk now.”

“Not well, I’d wager. Sleep snakes she had, and Breen was bitten.”

“How long?”

“Get her inside.” Aisling hurried over. “We’ll purify.”

“Already done.”

“You?”

“Both of us.” He paused, and his voice filled with frustration. “I can’t get her inside if you’re in the way, can I now?”

“Let me see.” Aisling reached up, put a hand on Breen’s heart, one on her head. “She’s clear. She’s clear, Marg, not to worry. Well done, Keegan.”

“She’ll need the after potion. My poor girl.”

“Mahon, my love, take the children out back. Breen needs the quiet. Harken, the after potion, if you please.”

“Yseult,” Keegan said to the men.

Mahon cursed, earning wide eyes from his sons, and a hard look from his wife. Keegan carried her in, dumped her on the settee, where Bollocks planted his paws on her chest and lapped madly at her face.

“I need Mahon to scout with me—as we were about to do before this came about.”

“See that Mab’s with the children then. Go on now, Bollocks.” Aisling gave him a nudge and a rub. “Leave her to us for a bit now. Go on with the boys.”

“Go outside.” To reassure him, Breen kissed his nose. “I’m okay.”

Keegan nodded, took another look at Breen. “We’ll train tomorrow, and harder. This wasn’t a random scout on his luck, but planned. Odran knows you’re here. He knows you’ve awakened. We’ll train harder.”

Harken walked in with a cup as Keegan walked out.

“Drink this now,” Aisling ordered. “Every drop. Then we’ll have some stew for you, I think. It empties you out, the purifying.”

“Yeah. I feel hollow everywhere.”

“I should’ve known.” Sitting beside her, Marg took her hand, pressed it to her cheek. “I should’ve expected, prepared.”

“It’s not your fault. You’ve been preparing me. Keegan’s been preparing me. I hate that he’s right. I have to work harder. I was weak, and stupid. I was,” she insisted when Marg protested. “I won’t be next time.”

“You’ll have some food,” Aisling declared. “And you’ll tell us, from start to end. And we’ll see what needs doing. She’s your blood, Marg, and neither weak nor stupid. But Yseult’s a wily one, and potent with her bloody snakes. So we’ll hear it, then we’ll see what’s needed.”

When she’d finished, and felt herself again, Harken stepped away from the window where he’d kept an eye on the children. He cupped Breen’s face in his hands and kissed her lightly on the lips.

“Trapped in a bespelled fog with a powerful black witch, branded by her, and bitten by a sleep snake, and still there was enough light and fight in you to guide Keegan to you. You’re your father’s daughter.”

She hadn’t thought of it that way, but only of failure.

“I hope so. I don’t understand the Sleep thing. Keegan said they didn’t want me dead.”

“’Tisn’t death,” Aisling told her, “but it mirrors it.”

“You know the tale of the Sleeping Beauty?” Harken asked. “Well, it wouldn’t be a kiss to bring you back. One bitten by a creature such as that will fall into a dark, deep sleep, wakened only by the will of the one who commands the snake.”

“We’d have broken the spell.” Marg reached out and took Breen’s hand. “But it’s difficult and it’s dangerous for all. It’s good you and Keegan killed the poison before it reached your heart and your head.”