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Hope slammed into his gut so hard he had to hold himself back from drawing her into his arms. “You’ll come with me.”
“Aye.” Her golden and silver eyes twinkled. “We owe one another that much, and ’twill offer an opportunity to sort things out.” She held up a hand. “Doona hope for too much from me. What ye want shines from you like a beacon, and it may well be more than I can give.”
“But you want the same thing.”
A pinched look formed around her eyes. “I want many things. Contradictory things. I’ve lived with compromise so long, ’tis become like a contrary twin.” She shook her head before turning toward the council cave.
He understood she’d said all she was going to and trotted to her side. Whatever the dragons had in mind, they’d face it together. He walked behind her until they ducked inside the opening into the mound. The outer chamber where he’d first met Arianrhod was deserted. Unlike their last visit that had been punctuated by dragon screams and smoke-filled air, the outer cave was absolutely silent.
“So far so good,” he muttered.
“Aye.” She quirked a brow. “At least the natives doona appear to be restless.”
“This way.” Angus set a brisk pace for where the Dragon Council set up shop. “Be warned, it gets even warmer as we move down.”
After several twists and turns in long tunnels excavated deep into the mountainside, the muted hum of dragons talking in their musical language reached his ears. It reminded him of the Selkies’ tongue. He covered the last distance and walked into an enormous chamber with Arianrhod by his side. Pale green limestone lined the walls, and the ceiling arched so far above his head, he couldn’t see it in the relative darkness broken only by glowing dragons. He looked about for Eletea. When he didn’t see her, he hunted for her energy with magic.
Not here.
The green dragon who’d sent them to fetch her lumbered forward. “We sent her to her home cave here on Fire Mountain. She doesn’t need to be party to our discussion.”
Angus squared his shoulders. “It’s not polite to help yourself to someone’s thoughts.”
The dragon shrugged, making her scales jangle against one another. “Your customs don’t concern me.”
“If ye’ve already dispatched Eletea,” Arianrhod broke in, “what do ye need from us?”
“She told us you killed Danne.” The green’s eyes whirled faster.
“She spoke true.” Arianrhod held her ground. “Danne would’ve done the same to me.”
“Aye, but you’re immortal, so it was scarcely a fair contest.” The green took a step closer.
Power flared around Arianrhod, lighting a circle about her. She strode forward until she couldn’t get any closer to the dragon and still look up at her. “I may be immortal, but he”—she jerked a thumb at Angus—“isna. Eletea was locked to a wall by shackles through her wings when we arrived. Had Angus not disabled Connor, we’d have had to face three dragons to do your bidding and free Eletea.”
“Malik says you injured him.” Another dragon, this one black, joined the green. Amber eyes skewered Arianrhod.
“How the hell would you know that?” Angus demanded. “He’s not here. Or is he?”
“Dragons can communicate over space and time,” Arianrhod murmured and tilted her chin at a defiant angle. “Aye.” She addressed the black. “I drove an arrow through his eye. He held me between two talons, suspended many feet above the ground. What? Am I prohibited from defending myself? Had I known that, I’d have refused to go after your missing dragon.” She paused long enough to suck in a breath. “Dragons are forbidden from threatening the Celtic gods. If anyone broke the compact between us, ’twas him, not me.”
“Is the only reason we’re here to defend ourselves against your accusations?” Angus asked, battling incredulity.
“You killed a dragon,” the green said. “Did you believe we’d ignore something so blatant as that?”
“If ye dinna like how we handled things, ye should’ve taken care of the matter yourself.” Arianrhod crossed her arms beneath her breasts. “We’re not the ones who allowed Danne to infiltrate your ranks and make off with Eletea.”
“Oberon’s balls!” Angus fumed, staring at the green and black dragons. “You’re worse than the Celts. At least once they task me with something, they turn me loose to accomplish it in my own way.”
“Enough!”
A golden dragon larger by half than the other two dragged its bulk from the shadowed gloom at the rear of the cave. Dragons continued to grow as years passed, so this one must be over two thousand years old.
“I am Eagon, head of this council.” The gold inclined his head. “The others are understandably concerned about the death of one of our own. Dragons are hard to replace.”
“So are Celtic gods.” Arianrhod swung to face him.
“You’re immortal.”
