“But it's your memory and your magic,” he reminded. “Which means she’s but allowing me what you would want me to know.”
“Likely,” she said, not snidely like she might have before but with more leeway. More forgiveness, to be sure. “But not just her now.”
“No,” he agreed. “Not just her.”
Rather, they were being led by multiple forces. Whatever path Raven had laid for them, whatever areas in the mountain Revna had deemed important, then last, but not least, wherever Tor’s tattoo felt they needed to go.
“What do you suppose the tat directing us means?” Raven fell in behind Tor, Cian behind her, and Trinity and Vicar behind him as they traveled through winding tunnels that grew narrower in some areas and wider in others. She glanced at Cian in one of the few areas they could walk side by side. “I would think this is one of those rare times you can share. Seems like a pretty big deal.”
“Big deal or not, I cannot share.” He shook his head. “This is a path you and Tor must walk alone.”
“Right,” she murmured. “Paths.” She considered Cian. “I see you’re back in your black robes. What happened to your warrior clothes? They suited you.”
“When I need to fight without magic,tá,” he conceded. “Otherwise, particularly in this place, ‘tis best to embrace the robes of my calling.”
“Yet I get the sense there’s more to you than just your calling.”
“As do I.” Tor considered Cian. “While you could create any kind of clothing in which to battle, you chose particularly well-made material earlier. Supple leather in your tunic where warriors from your time period would rarely wear such because they couldn't afford it.”
“You speak as though you know his time period,” Trinity commented.
“I do.” Tor frowned. “At least I thought I did a moment ago.”
“Ah, more Raven magic at work, I’ll bet,” Trinity said. “If I were to guess, I’d say he’s from sometime in the medieval period, which is a pretty big window.”
“It is.” Raven sensed Trinity was right but knew little more than that. Or did she? Because something about seeing Cian in that clothing earlier nipped away at something. As though a distant memory drew closer and closer. As though...
“You’re important,” Raven whispered. A sense of certainty overcame her. She stopped and looked at Cian. “You were,are, someone very important in Ireland.”
He said nothing to that but gestured that they keep moving.
Raven shook her head, sighed, and did as suggested knowing he wouldn’t say anything thanks to her. She wasn’t above muttering her displeasure, though. “What would be the big deal in me knowing that? Why would I want to keep that from myself?”
“Because knowledge must come in the right order,” Tor said, sounding more like Cian by the moment. But then, he was less threatened by the wizard now and more worried about her. Concerned that she not be harmed, seen clearly in his behavior earlier.
Sleeping with Tor had certainly been eye-opening and amazing, but something about his fear over her safety and how he had pulled her into his arms post-battle spoke volumes. It showed her in every sense of the word how he felt. How his dragon felt. It had been right there in the way he had shaken when he wrapped her in his arms. When he inhaled the scent of her hair as though he’d feared he never would again.
With his fear, though, came more questions.
How could she have ever walked away from him? How could she have been okay with possessing Revna and putting them through all that anguish? What had happened that she could no longer come back to see him as a spirit or even physically but had to possess the seer? And why, again, had Revna agreed to it? There were still so many unanswered questions. Things they needed to understand.
Most of all, what did his new dragon tat mean for them?
Why was it directing them?
“You sensed a lot off of Tor’s new tattoo,” she said to Trinity eventually.
She had meant to broach the subject earlier but kept putting it off. Just a few more feet. Another ledge. She had no idea why she hesitated, only that there was concern and fear attached to it. Her inner dragon was treading very carefully. Gently.
They had been traveling upward for hours, and she and her sister finally walked alone. Well, as alone as they could, since the five of them remained relatively close. “You said the face of Tor’s dragon tattoo should never be covered.” She considered her sister. “Why? That’s an odd thing to say out of the blue. Especially about a tattoo.”
“I wondered how long it would take you to get around to this conversation.” Where Raven figured her sister’s softer side would surface for this conversation, it seemed her Múspellsheimr side held the reins. “That tattoo is more important than most and should be the only thing you’re worried about.” She brushed off Raven’s others thoughts as though they were pointless for now. “Not how well Tor hugged you or how he makes you feel, but why he was branded with a tat that didn’t mate you. Why that tat had enough power to reach out and influence Vicar and me just as much as it did you two.”
“And how do you imagine I go about that?” she wondered, biting back a smile at the way Trinity sauntered for Vicar despite the uneven ground. How, no matter their situation, she made sure his eyes rarely left her.
“Sleep with Tor again,” Trinity said bluntly. “Again and again until you dream of your beginning. Whatever you’re forgetting.” She rolled her eyes at the never-ending mountain tunnel. “Because honestly, the good stuff will get you there faster than all this in-between crap.” She winked at Raven. “And it’sfarmore entertaining.”
Raven was about to respond when Trinity stopped short, scowled, and shook her head as though trying to shake something off.
