Yet in this defeat, he whispered in her ear, “And I swear my oath to you, Tara, I will honour you and protect you with my body, with my very soul. We are one.”
She turned to face him, tears in her eyes. Kissing his cheeks and then his lips, she simply whispered, “Thank you.”
Tara didn’t know exactly whom she was thanking. Dòmhnall for his words, or the power that had placed them here. All she knew was that they had at last found themselves. The real Tara was lying in the arms of the real Dòmhnall. Not witch and dragon lord, but fated mates, pure and simple.
Why had it taken them so long to get to this point?
Outside the sky tore apart, the sound of thunder so loud, the ground shook. But here in his arms she was safe. The world outside couldn’t touch them. Not at this moment.
But no moment lasts forever.
The thunder ripped the sky apart and with it came a blast of cold air. It was going to rain, he was sure of it. As they lay together in the glow of the fire, a tremor moved the ground beneath them as it rolled across the Earth.
Beside him, Tara sat up, ashen faced. He placed his hand on her back to soothe her. “It will pass.”
“No, it won’t,” she said turning to look at him, placing her hand on his cheek and then kissing his lips. “We need to get dressed. Now.”
“What is it?” he asked.
“I’m not sure. I only got a glimpse.” She was pulling on her shirt, covering up her luscious breasts, her face pulled into a frown.
The thunder sounded again, and she had to hold onto the bed to keep her feet under her. It wasn’t helped by the fact that at that very moment her eyes had become distant, not fixed in this world. He knew that look only too well.
“Tara,” he asked gently, as the thunder passed and her eyes came back to focus on him. “What did you see?”
“I’m not sure. But we have to try to find our way back to where we came through. It shouldn’t be hard; it’s where the wind is coming from.”
“You have your power?”
“The gift of sight. But only when the thunder sounds.” She dragged on her pants and then stopped, her eyes filled with fear. “This world we are in is like a bubble. That bubble is about to burst. We need to find the touchstone.”
“Do you know what it is?” he asked.
“No. I can only see the place where we arrived. There is wood scattered on the ground, it must be hidden.”
“So what do you see?” he asked, and knew he would not like the answer.
“Wolves. And something else, something dark. I don’t know. But it’s bad. And it’s trying to get in through the hole in the bubble. That is what the sound is, something trying to break in. To get us while we are vulnerable.”
He was dressed now, pulling on his long boots, wishing he had at least had the sense to bring a sword with him. For too long he had relied on his dragon. Now the only thing between them and certain death was the strength of his fists.
“Ready?” he asked, his hand on the handle of the door.
She nodded. “When the next roll of thunder comes, we need to stop. I have to try something.”
“What?” he asked.
She went through the open door, taking one last look at the small cabin, still lit by the warm glow of the fire before she said, “You’ll see. If it works, you’ll see.”
And then they were running through the night, hand in hand, to their almost certain doom.
Tara struggled to keep herself moving forward. As though her brain were short-circuiting, she kept getting sudden flashes of the future and the past. It was so disjointed and muddled that it disorientated her. Only Dòmhnall’s hand in hers kept her going, pulling her forever onwards, into the strong breeze, that sometimes turned to gusts so strong they had to stop and wait for them to pass, huddled together, or else be torn apart.
As soon as it was safe, he would rise, striding forward, never letting her go. She was reminded of his oath and hoped today was not the day he laid down his life for her, or surrendered his soul.
“How much further?” she asked, having to hold onto him with two hands as they ploughed on. But before he could answer, there was the sound of thunder, once more filling the air, making the ground tremble beneath their feet, the downward blast of air making her fall to her knees.
And then he was there by the side of her, sheltering her with his big body. She caught her breath, calmed herself, holding out her trembling hands to summon the magic which she was sure she could feel all around her when the thunder rumbled. It was as though the tear through the veil between worlds allowed a small amount of magic to trickle in.
Closing her eyes, she focused. So many times, she had used her magic in the face of danger. Now, with their lives in peril, she had to find that place in her head where all was calm, all was quiet.
“You did it!” Dòmhnall’s voice broke through her concentration. When she opened her eyes, he held a strand of her hair in his hand, bright white as though the snow had settled there and bleached the colour.
She let out her breath, the pent-up tension leaving her. “Great. So I have a plan.”
He grinned, grabbing her hands and pulling her to her feet. “I never doubted you wouldn’t have something up your sleeve, Tara.”
Then he began walking towards their destination, while she shouted instructions above the wind that had begun to take on the force of a hurricane. He turned to look at her, his hand going to cup her cheek, and then he kissed her, while all around them the world went mad. “I love you, Tara.”
Those words hit her harder than the wind that was trying to tear her away from him. She wanted to return his words, but it felt odd, out of character. She had never loved anything or anyone for such a long time, and despite knowing she loved him too, she lacked the nerve to actually say those words to him without sounding lame.
As the thunder sounded again, she saw how ridiculous she was, not wanting to sound lame, when they were almost certainly about to die. Dòmhnall looked up at the sky and let go of her hand. She hunkered down as he moved away from her, shouting, “I love you, Dragon Lord of Spellholm.”
He grinned at her, wicked, determined and hers. Then he disappeared from this world and she was alone. For one eternal moment, she thought he had gone forever, that she had been wrong and he wouldn’t return to her. Then he was there, the great beast, the part of her mate she had missed, the part that made him complete.
Clawing her way along the ground, she made her way to the green dragon, his scales glinting in the sun, his eyes flashing red, and revenge on his lips. Managing to curl her fingers around his huge, talonlike claws, she pulled herself next to him. He bent down and stood patiently while she climbed up his short leg and onto his back.
Holding on tightly, she ducked down to prevent herself being pulled from him by the wind, and then he began his slow walk to the rip in the worlds. He had wanted to fly, but she had persuaded him that this way was best, his four short legs more sturdy and strong than two wings in this weather.
One giant step at a time, he took them to the place where they had entered this world. The wind was tremendous, flowing like a river that had burst its banks through a tear in the sky. Here the azure blue was split in two, and when Tara looked up, her neck straining to support her head against the onslaught, she caught glimpses of darkness and stars. She was sure they were looking at the heavens, but of where?
She felt Dòmhnall bend his legs, ready to take off. Tara knew she had to stop him. That was not their way back. They had to find the touchstone. “Dòmhnall. Stop, let me down, it has to be here somewhere.”
She slid off his back, holding onto his leg to stay upright; this was not going to be easy. Certainly not when she looked into the distance and saw the pack of wolves from her vision descending on them.
Closing her eyes, she sought out her magic. It was here somewhere. The split in the sky was letting the real world in; even as she worked, she could see it getting bigger. Soon this world would implode, and they needed to be out of it when that happened.
Fixing her mind on the small dragon figure they both touched to get here, she tried to use a spell to locate it. Her magic flickered on and off like lights in a power cut. Trying harder, she pictured it again, not allowing herself to be distracted by the sound of their attackers getting closer.
There. It flashed into her mind. And then was gone. Damn it! She looked around, but the whole clearing looked the same, especially with the wind blowing dead leaves and branches their way. While she worked, she held on to Dòmhnall, who had begun to move, positioning himself to face the attackers head on.
“Come on, stupid magic,” she shouted to herself.
At that moment, high above them, the sound of thunder rang across the sky. She clutched her dragon’s leg as though it was the only thing anchoring her to this world, which in some ways it was. The ground moved beneath her feet. At least it had slowed down the wolves, but the sky above them grew darker, and seemed to be sucking the light out of this world, the blue sky being pulled out from around them.
She had to get this right.
Making the most of the burst of magic that accompanied the thunder, she closed her eyes. This time when she saw the touchstone, she let go of Dòmhnall and followed the pull of it. The dragon turned to watch, but almost immediately, he advanced forward to engage the wolves, who came at him like a swarm, ten of them biting and clawing at him.
A burst of fire took two of them out instantly, but the others were too spread out and he had to resort to snapping at them with is teeth and swinging his tail to try to damage them. Tara knew she had to hurry. Things were getting worse, and their only hope was to get out of there quickly.
Holding her hands out to sense the touchstone, she walked slowly forward. One step at a time. Pausing to check she was going the right way, trying not to get pushed off her feet by the wind, she narrowed down the location of the small dragon.
Finally, she found it. At least she thought that was what it was. Her fingers sensed the magic, but it looked like a lump of wood. She reached out for it, but then stopped. As soon as she touched it, she would be transported back to her own world. Leaving Dòmhnall there all alone, with the wolves attacking him and the sky about to be torn apart.
Casting a glance over to Dòmhnall, she knew there was no way he could move over to her. She would have to go to him. And hope the wolves didn’t go back to their own world with him. At least if they did, he could call on the other dragons to hunt them down.
Ripping yet more of her shirt, she made a small sling, and then tipped the wood onto it with another stick, praying the touchstone had to come into contact with her skin, and wouldn’t simply send her home just by her picking it up. Holding her breath, trying to keep her hand steady as the wind blew harder, she turned to face the creatures fighting in front of her and took one resolute step after another towards them.
When she was only ten paces away, one of the wolves turned, its teeth bared. Now she was in trouble. It sprang at her, and she knew she would have to try to fight it off. But that would risk losing the touchstone in the process. If the wind took it away, they were doomed. Yet in one swift movement, the dragon swung his head, bending down to bite its head off.
Tara stood, horrified at the blood spurting everywhere. However, survival mode kicked in and she ran towards Dòmhnall. Only when she had her hand firmly on his scaly dragon hide did she put her hand on the lump of wood, praying she had it right.
Because if she didn’t, not only would she look stupid, but also they would certainly end up dead. The sky above them shredded, and she moved closer to press her body against Dòmhnall’s. This was the end. The snarls of the wolves, the tearing of the azure sky, and the screaming of the wind as it swept across the world. All of it suddenly stopped.
“We have a gift for you, Tara. Artemis, who watches over us, asked us to gift you a piece of our forest.” The dryad walked towards Tara, a small carving in her hand. It was a dragon, its scales a shimmering green, just like Dòmhnall.
“It’s beautiful,” Tara said, transfixed. Dòmhnall knew he was supposed to do something. But what? He eyes rested on Tara and he remembered. Starting forward, he reached out for her.
“And such a likeness to your mate, the dragon lord.” The dryad’s voice was so mesmerising, ensnaring Tara, he had to stop this happening again.
“If he will ever have me,” Tara murmured.
The dryad smiled gently, pity in her face. “And this is why Artemis granted you such a gift.”
Just as his hand touched Tara’s, she came to life, stepping back. “It’s a most perfect gift. But I don’t need it. Thank you.”
The dryad smiled. “You have found each other.” In her hand, the small dragon turned to dust and blew away on the breeze. “I am glad we have had this chance to meet you, Tara. Dòmhnall, thank you for coming.”
With that, the dryad stepped back into the tree, blending with the bark. Tara rushed forward and grabbed hold of her, trying to stop her. “Don’t you just disappear! You owe us an explanation.”
“Tara,” he said, pulling her back.
“Let go of me. They can’t just do that to us and then walk away. Cowards,” she yelled.
“Tara,” he said more forcefully. “Let it go.”
“Let it go! They nearly killed us. And don’t even get me started on how hungry I … am.” She stopped fighting him and her shoulders drooped. “It didn’t happen.”
He shook his head. “No. At least not in this world. But she is right. Isn’t she? We have found each other.”
Tara looked up, her eyes fixed on his. “Yes. I believe we have.”
He held out his hand, she took it, and he led her away from the grove, away from the dryads, back towards the Stronghold.
“You know when we set out earlier, I was thinking of how much I wanted to take you to one of these glades and make love to you under the moonlit sky.”