Spreading her wings, Talia shield Magnus and Lyla from a particularly strong gust of wind. “A storm builds. Smell the rain riding on the air. Ye might consider retiring to another floor until the seventh is ready, mighty chief, to keep our lady sheltered and warm.”
Magnus inhaled. The clean, almost metallic tang of a rainstorm dampened everything. “Have Hellys check the library for contamination. If it is safe, I will take her there. If not, I will take her to Bastion and Frostborn’s tower. They will gladly shelter us until the fortress is made whole again.”
With a nod, Talia disappeared. Talon took her place, shielding Lyla and Magnus from the wind. “Kcirred seeks to divide us by placing a traitor in our midst. Ye ken that, aye?”
“Aye—and his ploy worked. There are few I trust at this moment.”
“Perhaps it is time to lay siege to Thornpitch. Bring Kcirred to his knees.”
“Then we best be finding a way to take down its shield clouds or at the very least, render their poisons useless.” They had battled Kcirred for what felt like forever and failed. Magnus burned to lay waste to Thornpitch, but he would not risk the lives of his people in a war that could never be won. “My primary concern at the moment is my lady.” He locked eyes with his kindred soul. “Ye have always been a wily one, brother. Find a way to defeat that bastard. Successfully.”
Talon nodded, then lifted his head and went still. “Come. Talia reports that Hellys has inspected the library and found it to be safe. Let us get the Divine One to shelter, get both of ye out of this wind, and served with a large goblet of dragon tears. We must not test yer resilience against the venenum, ye ken? Ye must remain strong for her.”
“Aye.” But Magnus knew in his heart that as long as he had Lyla in his arms, nothing could defy him. As long as she livedand breathed, as long as her heart beat with the same rhythm as his, his strength would never fail. He closed his eyes, focused on the warm, safe confines of the library, and uttered, “Tutum.”
Lyla nuzzledher cheek more comfortably against the wonderfully warm pillow that was harder than most of the pillows she’d used in the past. Must be a new kind of memory foam. She tried to remember where she’d bought, then dismissed the passing thought as she pulled the covers higher around her neck. The room was drafty. She must’ve left the window open, but she didn’t care enough to open her eyes and look or get up and shut the window. She deserved to be a little lazy this morning and treat herself to another fifteen minutes of snoozing. After all, Jake’s piano lesson wasn’t until tomorrow. She could stay in bed all day if she wanted.
Then something popped and crackled. The faintest scent of woodsmoke burrowed its way through her sleepiness. Woodsmoke? Fire? Holy crap! Was her building on fire? Her eyes flew open and reality came rushing back with such a vengeance that she sucked in a long, wheezing gasp.
“My love! I am right here. Ye are safe.” His face close to hers, Magnus cradled her cheek in his palm, locking his eyes with hers. “Ye are safe,” he repeated softly, tenderly stroking her face with his thumb. “I have ye, my love. Ye are safe.”
Remembering all that had happened before she’d begged him for a little nap, she breathed easier. “Sorry. I guess I forgot where I was there for a minute.” Then she noticed their surroundings. Books. Massive, alpha male furniture, as in, large, cushioned chairs upholstered in animal hides that made her cringe. Weaponry hanging on the walls. A fireplace huge enoughto burn entire trees. That was the thing about the Thirteenth Realm. Nothing they created was small. Except for the Twanes, of course. And baby dragons.
She settled back against his chest, nestling her head in the curve of his neck and shoulder. “I figured you’d carry me to your private chambers so I could take a nap. Where are we?” That sounded ungrateful. “Not that it’s not nice. Did I get too heavy?”
He kissed her forehead and shifted her weight in his lap, adjusting his arms around her. “It has been seven days since the great healing in the tombs, my love, and we are in the library until the seventh floor is fully prepared for us and ready to move into. It should be soon. Tern and Inuk know they have little time.”
She pushed herself upright, or tried to, and found it to be too much of an effort. Weakly, she maneuvered her head and shoulders so she could look up at him. “Are you saying I’ve been asleep for a week? And what happened to the rooms we had before?”
Staring down at her, he pulled in a deep breath, then slowly exhaled as if forcing himself to remain calm. “Ye have been more than simply asleep for a week. While we dinna ken what caused ye to succumb to such weakness right after the healing, the unnatural slumber that claimed ye thereafter was brought on by poison. Not only did that feckin’ maid contaminate the water and the balms we used to treat ye, but she also spread the venenum across yer bedsheets, throughout the dressing room, and in the waters of the bathing solar. She put it everywhere on our private floor. If not for Ipsillian’s blood oath and yer will to survive, ye would nay still be here in my arms.” His voice broke, and he looked away, focusing on the fire. “I would have had to wait until the next life to find ye.”
Poison. Maid. It took her a minute to sort through everything he said. “Who tried to poison me?”
“Martha.”
That hurt her feelings a lot more than she’d imagined it would. “I thought she liked me. I thought we were friends.”
“Hellys and Ipsillian are interrogating her to discover all her reasons, and Kcirred's plot. We will know more when they finish.”
The way Magnus’s eyes narrowed, the way the muscles in his jaw flexed, made Lyla wonder what he wasn’t saying. “Was anyone else hurt?”
He pulled in another deep breath and released it. “No, my love.” With a tender smile, he leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers. “Yer magic proved strong. All whom ye have healed are still hearty.”
“Thank goodness. I was especially worried about the babies. Are there other hatchlings I need to see to?” It would take a little while to rebuild her strength, but the surgery on her throat hadn’t kept her down as long as they’d predicted, and she wouldn’t let this stop her either. “Maybe you could have the eggs brought in here? I particularly don’t want any of the little ones to suffer just because I got knocked down for a bit.”
He shifted again, laying her back in his arms so he could fix her with a stern look that did little more than make her want to laugh. “Ye will worry about healing yerself and nothing else, ye ken? Everything else will be addressed in the proper time. The chimes still sing out and that strengthens the Realm with hope. Everyone knows that soon all will be whole.” Then he frowned down at her. “We must make ourselves whole as well, my love.”
And there it was. The choice she needed to make. Choose Magnus and the strange backwardness of all the Thirteenth Century or return to her life with all its modern conveniences, frustrations, and issues—and the people who needed her. She found the strength to reach up and touch his face, battling with the insistent need to toss caution to the winds and melt intohim, while forgetting about all her responsibilities. “We don’t really know each other,” she said, wincing at the weakness of the excuse. Instinctively, sheknewhim better than she’d ever known anyone in her life. She didn’t knowhowshe knew—she just knew. He was safe. Home. The part of her she’d been missing and hadn’t realized until this very moment that she couldn’t live without. “What about the people who depend on me? The people from my world who need me?”
He barely shook his head. “I canna answer that. All I know is that I need ye more than I need air to breathe.” He trailed his fingers along her jawline, then traced the outline of her bottom lip with his thumb. “But ye feel it now, aye? Ye recognize the bond of which I speak.”
“I think I’ve felt it ever since I got here.” She fisted her hand to her chest and rubbed her knuckles up and down her breastbone. “I’m just no longer afraid to admit it. But?—”
“I know.” With a sadness that broke her heart, he pressed a finger across her lips. “I know ye worry about the weak ones ye’ve saved in yer world.” After a pained shake of his head, he pressed his forehead to hers once more and whispered, “But ye canna save everyone with no thought for what ye need to save yerself.”
But she’d been hungry once, and homeless until her mother had dumped her on what she’d told Lyla was her grandparent’s doorstep. As it turned out, they’d been fosters social services had found before her mother chose to disappear back into the cold, cruel world that had always chewed her and Lyla up and spat them out. Her mother had promised to come back. She hadn’t. Lyla didn’t want those she’d helped to know the abandonment she’d known. Her fostergrandparentshad loved her and raised her, but still—it did something to a kid when their father never wanted to have anything to do with them and their mother decided they weren’t worth the trouble. With the foundationshe’d started, with her investments and earnings, or what was left of it after Derrick siphoned off as much as he could, she’d made a difference for at least a few people, and that had helped her more than all the therapy she’d gone through to get over her childhood and the loss of her voice.
“Lyla? Please?” He kissed her forehead again, cuddling her closer, caressing her with his warmth that both made her feel safe and leery. “The old one, the Divine Weaver, said they have watched over the ones ye protected. The child. The boy. Mairwen said he is thriving with his music.”
