Earth's Hope (2 page)

“Brace yourself.” Nidhogg’s wings beat so fast they became a blur. Dewi shuttered her inner eyelids across her corneas. The dragons’ world was a place of heat and light. Moments later, familiar smells buffeted her, singeing her lungs until she inhaled deeply, breathing past the pain. A charred landscape spread beneath her, beautiful in its barrenness. Red, orange, and black scorched dirt stretched in all directions.

Dragons could go for long periods with no food and little water. Their home world had only a single spring, and it had always proven sufficient for the dragons and small herds of wildebeest-related ungulates they fed on. Most of this land was a continuous string of volcanoes ringed around caves. The spring was deep within the cave system. Double suns were just falling beneath the western horizon, turning the sky a deep crimson, like a bloody gash across the world. Soon the only light would be from the ever-present fires.

“We will offer our daughter to the flame,” Nidhogg said and inscribed circles in the thick, smoky air as he headed for a stark volcanic crack. Dewi followed him down. Some part buried deep within her welcomed the barren world, recognized it as part of her making. Nidhogg touched down, and Dewi joined him on the cracked, dry ground of their borderworld. He held out their daughter’s body.

Dewi took her child and clasped the small dragon close. She would have grown up to be golden; even in death, her red scales had continued to change color. Dewi bent her head and brushed her jaws over her youngling’s scaled head. “I’m so sorry,” she said. “So very sorry. I wish I’d had time to get to know you.”

“She would have been special,” Nidhogg broke in. “Just like her mother.”

Tears gathered, welled, and spilled into the dust. Pearls, diamonds, rubies, and emeralds sparkled at Dewi’s feet. She gazed into Nidhogg’s eyes. “I will always blame myself for this. Just like I blamed myself for making the wrong choice and leaving our eggs to search for you.” She blew out steam and fire-streaked air. “We’ll move beyond this, but those bastards will not get any more of our children.”

“I hope you’re correct.” Nidhogg narrowed his spinning green eyes. “We’ve thrown down the gauntlet. Not just you and me, but the Celts and humans like Aislinn, humans with power. The bond animals are in this too.”

“I suppose they are.” Dewi thought about Rune, the wolf bonded to Aislinn, and Bella, the raven bound to Fionn. Hunters bonded to animals, infusing them with magic, or drawing out latent power that was already there. Human magic came in five iterations: Hunter, Mage, Seeker, Healer, and Seer. Most humans had two magics, one primary and one weaker, but Aislinn held all five. Fionn did too, just like all the Celtic gods.

“Dewi.” Nidhogg laid his snout alongside hers. “There’s never been a war without casualties. You may not come through this. I might not. Certainly, people we love will die.”

Dewi bristled and clutched her child closer. “No more of my children. Not on my watch.”

“No matter how vigilant and well-intentioned you are, it could happen.” He straightened. “We fight to save Earth. We have no choice. Tomorrow is far from a certainty. Hear me when I tell you I welcome death as a free dragon. Dying by inches over hundreds of years in that stinking pen on Perrikus’s world was agony. No matter what comes to pass, it won’t be worse than that.”

Alarm sluiced through her, and she shifted so she faced him. “You can’t die. I just got you back.”

Compassion streamed from his eyes. “I feel the same way about you, Dewi, my love, my heart. Remember they said we’d never last? That the Norse dragon god and Celtic dragon god would be at each other’s throats?”

Dewi nodded. “Now that you mention it, yes, I do remember.” She snorted and smoke rose above her head. “Proved them wrong, didn’t we?”

“Yes, love. We did.” He held out his forelegs for their daughter. “Let us pray and send her to her rest.”

The sound of his chanting in their ancient language rose and fell around her. After a time, he kissed their daughter and handed her to Dewi one last time. Nidhogg didn’t have to talk. He glanced at Dewi and then at the jagged crack at their feet, which belched sulfuric fumes. Dewi joined her voice with his for the final stanzas of the lament for the dead. Once they fell silent, she hunkered forward and dropped their daughter’s body into the bowels of the dragons’ borderworld.

No matter what Nidhogg says, I am never burying another of my young.

Never.

“Come.” Nidhogg’s deep voice rumbled next to her. “So long as we are here, we should visit the caves and make certain the everlasting spring still flows.” He spread his wings and beat the air with them.

Dewi had been ready to teleport into the caves, but flying was better. They’d be able to lay eyes on their world, assure themselves it hadn’t been disturbed. Not that it was likely. Wards wrapped their borderworld, powerful magic that would incinerate anyone who wasn’t a dragon.

Dewi took to the skies; once airborne, she scanned familiar landmarks and felt a bittersweet tug. Humans would never understand the attraction of the dragons’ home. Neither would the other Celtic gods. She’d always felt she lived two lives, particularly once she believed she was the last dragon. Longing rose in her like a hot tide. If she had a choice in the matter, she’d bring her children back here and settle in with them and her mate. Let the humans and Celts sort out the mess with the dark gods. She could raise another clutch of eggs, and they’d be well on their way to repopulating the Earth with dragons…

Nidhogg circled to land, touching down in a flurry of dusty, reddened dirt. Dewi blew steam to clear her nostrils and lumbered near where he stood.

“We could bring the younglings here—” she began, but he silenced her with a harsh look. Fire plumed from his open mouth.

“The same thought crossed my mind, but we will not do that. How could we live with ourselves if we turned our backs on honor? More importantly, what kind of lesson would that teach our children?”

Shame burned hot and viscous in her chest, and Dewi looked away. “Once our younglings are a month old, the Celts will want to use them in battle.”

“They would be within their rights.” Nidhogg’s tone was devoid of inflection. “Our children will be capable of fighting once their scales harden.” He shook his head, and steam flew in all directions. “No one gets an exemption, Dewi. Not me. Not you, and not our children.”

“I’ll be chained to the eggs in my body once I’ve laid them. I don’t know how I’ll manage being stuck in our cave in Ireland knowing how thin a margin we hold.”

“I’ve been thinking about that.” Nidhogg raised his snout. “You will hold the eggs within you. Until the outcome of the coming battles is more certain, we will need you in battle.”

“But how can I do that?” Dewi stared at her mate as if he’d lost his mind. “Last time we produced a clutch, the eggs came when they did. I couldn’t have stopped them anymore than I could have turned back time.”

“It’s numbers. So long as you have fewer than fifteen fertilized eggs within you, you control when they emerge.”

Dewi rolled her eyes. “Why do you know that and I don’t?”

He shrugged, his black scales jangling against one another. “Maybe because I paid attention when the females got together. What this does mean, though”—he eyed her meaningfully—“is no more mating. We can’t risk creating more eggs.”

“Not sure I like that,” she muttered and clanked her jaws together. “Let’s get going with the caves. We’ve already burned up the better part of a day getting here, and we told Fionn and Aislinn we’d be back in two.”

“I don’t like the not mating part, either.” Nidhogg winked broadly. “But it will create an incentive to plow through to the other side of things and secure Earth once and for all.”

“I heard the tail end of that.” Arawn, Celtic god of the dead, terror, and revenge, strode out of the mouth of the cave system. Black robes cloaked his tall, slender frame. Black hair hung loose to his waist, and his dark eyes glittered dangerously.

Dewi puffed smoke in surprise. “How did you get here? This world is closed to all but dragons.”

“I’m surprised ye have to ask. The Halls of the Dead link to every borderworld, even this one.” Arawn narrowed his eyes. “It got me around the problem with your ward system.”

“So I suppose a better question,” Nidhogg cut in, “would be why you felt the need to intercept us.”

“Neither of you have been to these caves for a verra long time,” Arawn spoke deliberately, enunciating each word until Dewi felt like strangling him.

“Your point?” she snapped.

“A handful of dragons yet live—”

“That’s scarcely possible,” Dewi huffed.

“Hush, dear.” Nidhogg straightened his spine until he hit his full eight-and-a-half-feet height and shifted his gaze to Arawn. “I suppose you’re going to tell us why you kept their existence a secret.”

The dark-haired god shook his head. “Nay, I will let them tell you that themselves. I merely wished to prepare you. They are here at my behest and have remained so out of deference to me. I saw no reason to alert our enemies to their existence after Perrikus imprisoned you.” A rare smile split Arawn’s gaunt face, displaying very white, very even teeth. “I must return to Inishowen. I presume I will see you there soon.”

“Thank you.” Nidhogg inclined his head.

Dewi gnashed her teeth, not believing her mate was actually thanking Arawn for his deceit. “You could have told me,” she gritted at Arawn. “I can keep secrets.”

“Unless ye’d been taken,” Arawn pointed out. “And tortured.”

“Damn you, you arrogant Celtic ass,” she sputtered. “I suffered terribly.”

“Aye, but ye dinna die.” The god of death’s dark gaze flashed menace. “Enough. We all made sacrifices, and I fear we are far from the end of them.” He raised his arms skyward, shimmered, and was gone.

“Get hold of yourself.” Nidhogg nudged Dewi with his shoulder. “Let’s get moving. I want to see which of our kin remain.”

“Traitors, the lot of them,” she hissed.

Nidhogg pivoted on his powerful hindquarters until he faced her and grabbed one of her forelegs with a taloned foot. “You will hear them out,” he pronounced. “Only a fool makes judgments without facts.”

Ouch.

Shame nudged anger, not totally displacing it, but at least making room for something beyond indignation. She yanked her foreleg free. “I promise to listen, but if I don’t like their answers—”

“Neither of us will take action without consulting the other.” He skewered her with his gaze. “Agreed?”

“Agreed.” She aimed for neutrality, but a sullen undernote crept beneath the word just the same.

Chapter Two

Fionn, Celtic god of wisdom, creation, and protection, wanted to slam a fist down on the huge oblong table in his kitchen, but he restrained himself. The carved oak table could have accommodated twenty-five, but today just him, two other Celts, and four humans sat ringed around its scarred surface.

“Let’s play this one again from the top,” Fionn said, making an effort to remain in his seat. What he wanted to do was bolt from the room. Let the others come up with a plan if they were going to pick his to bits.

“Temper, temper,” Bella cawed from her perch atop the door.

Fionn eyed his bond raven. “I’ll thank you to keep your thoughts to yourself.”

“Thank away.” The bird fluffed her coal black feathers and nailed him with her beady avian gaze. “In the end, I’ll do as I please.”

“Aye, ye always do.” Fionn turned his attention back to the group. Gwydion, master enchanter and warrior magician, sat at one end of the table. His sky blue robe was sashed with a leather belt that held pouches with a variety of herbs and powders in them, and his intricately carved wooden staff was propped against the wall behind him. Blond hair was braided in a Celtic warrior pattern, and his blue eyes held a somber note.

Bran, god of prophecy, war, and the arts, wore his usual battle leathers. They clung to his heavily muscled body like a second skin. Blond hair fell halfway down his back, and his copper eyes danced with suppressed mirth. He tilted his chin in response to Fionn’s gaze.

Fionn narrowed his eyes. “I doona see the humor here. Mayhap ye might enlighten me.”

Bran shrugged. “Ye are used to getting your way. ’Tis interesting watching you grapple with compromise.”

“Glad to provide entertainment,” Fionn gritted through clenched teeth. Bran’s words skirted dangerously close to the truth. Fionn was used to working alone, or with other Celts who tended to share his worldview. He hadn’t counted on this bunch of humans to have differing opinions.

And did I think they’d bow and slaver and thank me for my wisdom? Fionn winced at his folly in expecting passivity.

“This isn’t helpful,” a woman from the far side of the table said. “We have our difficulties too, but if we don’t work through them, we may as well hang out a white flag and tell the dark gods and those Lemurian bastards to come get us.” Red hair hung to her shoulders, and the skin around her clear, green eyes was pinched with concern. She wore faded green pants and a nondescript sweater with many patches.

“You’re Corin, right?” Fionn asked. “Sorry to ask, but…”

“Yes, I head those with the Mage gift.” She took a measured breath. “One of the problems here is you’re immortal. We’re not. It makes us cautious, since we don’t get do overs.”

“Neither do we,” Bran drawled in his conciliatory voice. “We can be sorely injured, so much so we end up waiting out our immortality in the Dreaming. ’Tisn’t such an enviable position.”

Corin frowned. “I’m sorry, I thought—”

“So long as I’ve put my foot in it,” Fionn broke in, not wanting to go into the intricacies of Celtic immortality, “we never did go around the table for introductions. I’d asked for the leaders from each of the human magics. I recognize Daniel from Castle Balloch, but not the rest of you.”

A stocky, blond man with deep green eyes nodded from across the table. He was dressed in tattered trousers and a plaid wool jacket. “As if any of us could forget the night we strung up that Hunter traitor, Travis. Damned shame about his civet, but we couldn’t salvage him, either.” Daniel thinned his lips into a disgusted line. “As I’m sure you guessed, I represent Seekers.”