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His voice snapped out now, full of anger and disgust. “In Odran’sname, for no reason but to demoralize the Fey. A dozen or so, with their pair of sorcerers against dragon fire and claw? The dragons would have rooted out any who survived, as they’d have no way to break out of Talamh. They struck at the young, as that is the most pain for all.”
“What’s Dragon’s Law?” she asked again, though the way her heart thudded in her throat, she thought she knew.
“Death. Death by dragon fire.”
Shaken, she sat on the side of the bed. “Is it because I asked you to promise not to open the portal for banishment? If I—”
“It’s not, no. This law is older than Talamh and ours. It’s done.”
More weight for him, she thought, and rose. “I held babies, burned, bloodied, and too many beyond what we could do to save. I held Brian when he wept for Hero. This, all of it, sits at Odran’s feet, Keegan, not yours.”
“I hold the staff,” he said simply. “And it’s done. I thought as I watched how it is they’d never understand that Odran doesn’t think of them. Their deaths are nothing to him. He sent them to their death. I know this. They’ve hidden in the misery of those caves all this time, and for their trouble, he sent them to their deaths.”
“He won’t win.”
“I hold to that.” He sighed again, nearly smiled. “Daughter of dragons.”
She went to him, and when she took his hands, he gripped hers tight. “You should eat. I can warm up—”
“No, no. I don’t yet have the stomach for it. I felt them cry—this gift I sought—so I felt them cry, every one, as they laid their brothers, sisters, children, mates on that stone as the sun set. I won’t forget the sound of it. I don’t have the stomach for food, or even ale. I need to sleep, and I wanted you beside me.”
“Then come to bed.”
He nodded, then sat to take off his boots. “Your father’s dragon flew beside Marg today. It’s said since Eian fell, his dragon only flies at night, and spends his days on Eile Dragain, waiting for his own end. But today, he flew in the sun.”
“I saw him, and knew him. I’d seen him, with my father riding him, in visions.”
She looked at the photograph, her father, Keegan’s.
Beside the photo, images began to swirl in the globe.
“Keegan, come and see.”
“I’ve seen the photograph, and it’s a fine memory.”
“No, in the globe. Shadows are moving, clouds clearing. Do you see?”
He came to stand beside her and look. “I only see the globe.”
“There’s movement. There’s dark and light. Voices—there are voices. Someone’s screaming. Can you see?”
He took her hand, linked their fingers. Through her, through the globe, he saw as she did.
Fire roared in the hearth and shot light, broody red, over a bed fashioned with gold posts and silk bedding. Candles burned throughout the chamber with its windows facing the night.
The sea thrashed beyond, a violent, angry sound like the screams and curses of the woman who thrashed on the bed.
Shana beat her fists in the air, clawed at the silk. Her face twisted to wring out every ounce of beauty as she screamed.
“Get it out of me! Get this thing out of me!”
A woman, her hair knotted on top of her head, a collar around her throat, knelt between Shana’s legs. Her face bore the raw scratches from where Shana had raked her nails.
“It’s turned wrong yet.”
Yseult, eyes cold, face set, stood watching. “It’s too soon. The child must stay inside her.”
“Her waters have broken. I can’t stop what will come.” Pain rippled over her face when the single stone on the collar pulsed. “Whatever you do to me, I can’t stop what will come. I can only try to turn the child in her womb. It damages her. You can see!”
