If that weren’t enough, it seemed Raghnall’s magic was so tied up in his invisible wall that when he died at her hands, it became Riona’s wall. One she could push to all corners of her kingdom, keeping out the enemy so any future invasions of Aodh’s or Liam’s lands from Munster would have to be by sea.
Eisibél had done a good job bringing order to everything once Aodh left, but Imag remained missing, no doubt defected to the enemy. Something unfortunate, according to Declán, because she knew much about not just their kingdom but his brothers.
“We should give Eisibél a more esteemed position in the castle,” Riona said. “She deserves it.”
Declán agreed. Such a thing would give her status above that which she already enjoyed and an opportunity to marry the highest of nobility if she so chose.
A monstrous bonfire was lit that night in honor of the fallen and to celebrate a new sense of freedom, yet Riona felt drawn to the smaller fire by the tree in the courtyard.
To the archway Declán had built her in another life.
A fire it seemed people understood she needed time alone at because while all nodded and thanked her in passing, everyone left her, Declán, Madison, and Cian be as they sat around it and enjoyed a much-needed ale.
“Here’s to you, sis.” Madison held her mug up in a toast. “And to you, brother Declán, for a job well done and for fulfilling your end of the prophecy.”
She sat on Cian’s lap and Riona on Declán’s.
They held their mugs up in response, then drank.
Riona’s gaze lingered on the archway all the while, though. The tree hovering above. “It’s all part of it, somehow,” she said softly, thinking about all the trees born of this one. How this, in its own way, had been reborn in this life of King’s Heart. A tree that could track them right into a tapestry. “Irish roots that are helping us more and more by the day.”
“Irish roots that became a stump and four sticks you picked up in a previous life.” Madison admired her dagger, then eyed Riona in that new all-knowing way of hers. “Sticks that became four daggers. Our daggers.”
Having sensed so much since ending Raghnall, she nodded. “The prayer I murmured over those sticks when I set them down was that all three of my druidess sisters would fare well, so you must have been close to falling in love if not already in love. I prayed you would not suffer men like Raghnall. And whatever might come, that you would be protected by that tree. By King’s Heart when it was young even if it was no more.”
“A tree that found its way back to life just like all of us,” Cian said.
“So it appears.” Riona looked up into the branches, then at the archway again. “A tree that made sure this archway returned and that somehow all the daggers made it where they should be. Made sure I ended up back where I was meant to be.” She looked into Declán’s eyes. “Because it did, and I remember it all now. I remember you and our endless times together. Mostly in dreams but not always...not when I left you sketches.”
As it turned out, after her initial dream in New Hampshire, where she had evidently slept-walked as a little girl to heal Raghnall, she went back to that rock ledge every day in a blue dress the color of the cloak the kind boy had given her. There, she waited and sketched. Then waited and sketched some more until her images started telling her a story.
Day after day until the rock ledge began to resemble an archway.
One that took her back to eleventh-century Ireland.
Back to Declán.
Then as time went on, she sketched things to come. Memories the tree kept hidden from her as the years rolled on. Stories of great love and a horrible castle siege. How she would fight a cruel, evil king who thought he loved her and help save thousands of people.
How she could find her way back to the only love that mattered.
How she would try her best to protect him, which the tree saw to when it erased her memories of him until the time was right. After all, Raghnall already sought her out. Wanted her. So Declán defecting to him was the perfect opportunity. A chance to keep he who had been his brother close. A brother who was still very much his enemy.
So he had known Riona would come. Rightfully knew she would be drawn to both but arrogantly thought she would love only Raghnall in the end. As it were, they had died together in their last life in a fire he assumed would bond them eternally.
Yet an unforeseen opportunity had arisen when Aodh pursued Declán into enemy territory. An opportunity not only to gain Declán’s kingdom and Riona herself but a dragon king. A creature that could, if all went as planned, help him conquer all of Ireland.
“I can't help but wonder if Siobhán saw the flaw in his plan, though.” Madison’s gaze settled on Riona. “The weakness at the heart of it. One she could have easily taken advantage of if she were clever enough. Especially if she already had the support of Raghnall’s warriors behind her.”
“Riona being his weakness,” Declán realized. “You think she knew just how powerful Riona would grow. What she would be capable of when it came to Raghnall.”
“I think ‘twould be foolish of us to think otherwise,” Cian said. “And ‘twould line up nicely for her, would it not? Gain the respect of Raghnall’s warriors, then let him lead himself to slaughter so she could rise up and take his place?” He shook his head. “Because all one really needs to gain a kingdom is to gain the trust and respect of its warriors. The people will have no choice but to fall in line under her rule.”
“Has she gained their trust today, though?” Riona wondered. “Retreating like she did?”
“If this was all a grand plan to make Aodh hers again, and she now rules his dragon,” Declán said softly, staring into the flames with an almost haunted expression, “she did far more than gain their trust but undoubtedly their undying worship.” He shook his head. “For ‘tis no small thing having a dragon at one's command. Especially one the likes of Aodh.”
“True,” she murmured, wondering what came next. What they faced. And she said as much later that night as she and Declán stood alone on the highest turret looking down on their kingdom.
