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She had no idea. He’d likely be disappointed or angry or passive aggressive as hell when she told him she couldn’t share anything that looked like a normal life with him. Not that she didn’t want to, but it wasn’t her destiny. At least not right now. She saw that clearly standing in the middle of eighteenth century moorland. Why hadn’t it been this obvious before?
She glanced around again, still not finding a trace of Angus or the Morrigan. Where the hell had they gotten off to? Try as she might, she couldn’t envision Angus falling for the Battle Crow’s cheap wiles, but he was a man after all.
If he got sidetracked this easily by the Morrigan, he won’t want the child, either.
Nay, one doesna follow from the other. I’m just jealous because he went off with her—never mind ’twas my suggestion.
I doona have any idea what he wants or doesna want. I doona know him well enough.
A flat rock in the sun beckoned. She sat heavily on it and supported her head in one hand. Part of her thought she should return to Inverlochy Castle, report in, and be done with things. Before she could act on it, the sun warmed her chilled places, and her eyes fluttered shut.
She felt the beginnings of a vision in a particular lightness in her midsection. Expecting a message from Ceridwen or another of the Celts, she opened herself. Shock roiled through her when Cathbad stood framed in her third eye.
“Goddess.” He inclined his head.
“Seer.” She gazed into eyes identical to Angus’s.
“Ye must keep the child,” he said without preamble. “He has a crucial role to play in what’s to come.”
She didn’t waste words asking how he knew. “I’ve been trying to see my way clear to do that. It willna be easy.”
“Ye have the answers ye need. Angus will raise his son.”
“How can ye be so certain he’ll agree?”
“How can ye be certain he willna?” With a broad wink, Cathbad’s figure fragmented into a million motes of light, and her mind was her own again.
Arianrhod glanced at the sun tracking its way to the western horizon. Though it didn’t seem possible, she’d lost at least an hour. Maybe more. Footsteps pounding toward her brought her to her feet.
“There you are,” Angus cried and ran hard right for her. “You didn’t stay where I left you.” Mild accusation ran beneath his words.
She looked behind him. “Where’s the Morrigan?”
He rolled his eyes and laughed. “I kept up a pretense long enough to glean what I could. Once I knew I couldn’t get any more, I became distant enough she got angry and left.”
“Do ye think she went back to Rhukon’s?”
“Aye, that’s exactly what I think, but I don’t want to talk about her.” He held out his arms, and she walked into them and wrapped hers around him. “Miss me?” He kissed the top of her head.
“I shouldna admit it, but aye.”
He tightened his arms around her. “You were right about the Morrigan being up to her wings in the dragon shifter mess.” He paused a beat. “She’s rather like a combination of cheerleader and advice maven, suggesting they try things to sink themselves in even deeper. She alluded to others she was working with too, powerful beings she wouldn’t name.”
“’Twould be verra like something she’d do. I got Rhukon—well actually Malik—to admit he knows about Lachlan’s disappearance.”
“Who was Lachlan exactly?”
“One of the good dragon shifters. He and his dragon, Kheladin, havena been seen since the late sixteen hundreds. I dinna get a chance to ask after Britta and Tarika, two others who’ve been scarce, though I suspect they’re deep in Fire Mountain, or else hiding out somewhere in a time period where they doona expect to be disturbed. Tarika is one of the First Borns, and she wouldna allow herself—or her dragon shifter mage—to become trapped by another’s magic.”
Angus stroked firm hands down her back. “Do you want to confront Rhukon further?”
Arianrhod thought about it and shook her head. She played with the spill of hair down his shoulders, enjoying the texture between her fingers. “Nay. Nothing to be gained, unless we held him down and tortured him. And I doubt we could do so. The dragon would gain ascendency and fry us with fire.”
The hands on her back moved to her hair, and he laced his fingers into its weave. “We still need to warn Eletea. Do you suppose they’ll allow us into Fire Mountain, given how they kicked us out last time?”
“We must try. I believe they’ll be verra interested in any information at all about Lachlan. His dragon Kheladin was young, but quite a favorite among the First Borns.”
He brushed his lips over hers and moved to her side, where he draped an arm around her shoulders. They walked toward where the time shaft had spit them out. It was a wise move, since she felt drained.
“Once we’re done with Fire Mountain,”—he snugged his grip on her waist, drawing her closer—“I’m looking forward to an uninterrupted stretch of time alone with you.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. She wanted the same, more than anything, and it scared her to death. She couldn’t become dependent on the man by her side. Missing him would make the next stretch of years even more unbearable than the last few thousand had been.
“What?” he asked softly.
“Nothing. I’m just tired.”
