WingsOfDesire-AriannaSkye (34 page)

“I always knew you had some Wood Faerie in you.” Cerne gave Belenus a friendly pat on the back.

“And is that a bad thing?” Belenus set his bowl down and grinned.

Cerne shook his head. “On the contrary, my friend. It’s a wonderful thing. Just make sure
you
do the cooking next time.” He turned to Maeve and gave her a consolatory smile.

Cerne took another sweeping gaze at their encampment. The fog of Maeve’s cloaking spell still hung about them, shielding them from the forest. “How well does this cloaking spell work?”

“Nothing—including the most magical of creatures—can break through the fog.” Maeve beamed, the pride evident in the sparkle of her peridot eyes.

“What about mind-talking?” Cerne asked with a hopeful breath. He would cling to the final straw of hope that he’d communicated with his princess the prior evening, but his heart fell at

Maeve’s next words.

”I’m afraid it blocks all psychic communication as well. We can’t have Korrigan pushing her way into our minds, can we?”

Cerne nodded. Maeve had a point. He knew Rhiannon was strong, but Korrigan was stronger, especially with the amulet in her possession. And what’s not to say Korrigan wouldn’t use his Rhiannon to outsmart them. He gritted his teeth and clenched his fists. The bitch would suffer if anything happened to Rhiannon.

“We’ll get her back, my friend. Have no fear.”

“I’m not fearful. I’m angry. I want Korrigan to suffer.” Cerne shuddered, knowing this wasn’t the White Faerie way.

“It’s the way of a mated consort, my friend. Even without the ritual, you have a tie to her,” Belenus said.

“I do not love her. There will be no love for a Silverwing.” Cerne drew his lips together in a straight line.

“Why do you keep denying it, Cerne?” Maeve asked, barging into their conversation.

How he wished Rhiannon was here to come up with some witty human euphemism in response.

“I have nothing to deny. We are not in love. It’s merely a physical bond—nothing more, nothing less.” With a hard scowl, he crossed his arms. “Now I’d appreciate it if we changed the subject.”

Maeve and Belenus gave each other quizzical looks and shook their heads. Why did they enjoy goading him so much? Maeve shrugged and lifted the corner of her lip in a smirk. Cerne hoped when Rhiannon was safe in his arms that she would bestow on him the knowledge to keep meddlesome Maeve from siphoning into his thoughts.

“Perhaps she will.” Maeve chuckled.

Cerne scowled. “You’re starting to irk me, you know that?” He sighed, realizing the more time they dallied, the more time Korrigan kept his princess captive. “We need to get moving.” He turned to Belenus. “And we need to contact Windstorm to check on him and his troops.”

“I realize your urgency, Cerne, I really do.” Maeve looked him in the eyes. “I thought the quick morning meal would give us energy we need to proceed on.” Cerne attempted a reassuring smile. “You thought well. I didn’t get a good night’s sleep,

even with the protection.”

Maeve took his hand in a friendly embrace. “Do you want to talk?”

“Nothing important. I had a dream, is all. I thought Rhiannon was calling out to me. She appeared to me then vanished.”

Maeve nodded. “You care for her and want her safe. I do not fault you for that. She’s your life-mate. It’s normal for you to dream of her.”

“I dream of Maeve whenever she isn’t around,” Belenus said, checking over the horses. He scrubbed his horse's forehead as it nuzzled against his chest. “Everything is ready to go.”

“Bel and his horses,” Cerne said, with a mirthful chuckle. “What would he do without them?”

Maeve tilted her head to her shoulder with a slight grin. “Me?” Cerne chuckled. “That would not surprise me in the least.”

“As I’ve said numerous times, Cerne.” With the smirk the size of an ogre, Maeve crossed her arms. “Your time will come.”

She turned away and scanned the encampment. “I believe it’s safe enough to call off the cloaking spell. We need to start moving anyway.”

Cerne nodded. “It’s daylight. None of the forest creatures will be lurking.” Throwing her head back, Maeve raised her hands high. “Oh Mother Goddess and Father God, we thank thee for the magical gifts you have bestowed upon us. We hope you look upon us with favor in the future. So mote it be.”

She waved her hands to the three directions, calling back each of the elementals, then knelt down, placing her head to the earth with her hands directly above. The fog around the encampment shimmered and faded around them. Birds and crickets chirped as the forest came into view.

Cerne gazed up to the sky. Gray clouds swirled and billowed above them. Darker clouds churned to the south. Korrigan’s army was on the move.

He turned to Belenus and Maeve. “I think it’s time to contact Windstorm. The storms appear very threatening.”

Maeve nodded. She closed her eyes and clenched her fists. “I need help, my love. The troops are too far away.”

“But a messenger orb can travel for miles, can’t it?” Cerne asked.

Belenus shook his head. “The orb will be too noticeable when it floats through the air. The Dark Faeries would intercept the message in a matter of minutes.” Cerne scratched the growth of hair on his chin. “How do you plan to communicate?”

“Like so.” Belenus opened his mouth. The chilling screech from his mouth left Cerne speechless. In the distance another screech echoed. An eagle swooped down high in the air and landed on Belenus’s outstretched arm. It stood majestic and proud, its talons wrapped around Belenus’s arm. Lifting its head, with eyes searching the encampment, the magnificent bird chirped a greeting to Belenus.

Cerne could only stare in wonder. Belenus smiled, replying in another high-pitched chirp as he engaged the bird in steady conversation. Cerne turned to Maeve who beamed at her consort, pride and admiration shining in her eyes. If only he could have those same glances from Rhiannon he would die a happy faerie.

Cerne lowered his head to Maeve’s ear. “What is Bel doing?” he whispered.

“He’s giving the eagle a message. The general has similar abilities.”

“He can communicate with eagles?”

Maeve laughed. “No, he can talk with every type of bird, not only eagles. It’s not something he’d like bandied about the kingdom.”

Cerne furrowed his brow. He could only dream of having such a power. “Why ever not?”

“He’s a White Faerie general, and a haughty one at that. He has an image to maintain. And that image doesn’t include singing and trilling with the sparrows. Am I making sense?” Cerne shook his head with mirth. “It makes
perfect
sense. A general with a magic skill normally reserved for a female. I’d probably feel the same if I was in his shoes.” Cerne steepled his fingers and rubbed his palms together. His lips curved upwards with mischief. He finally had one up on his childhood friend.

“The message is ready to be sent,” Belenus called over his shoulder. The bird remained perched on Belenus’s wrist, poised and regal.

Maeve approached man and bird. “Would you like me to offer a spell of protection?” She outstretched her hand, palm up, to the eagle. The bird pecked a few times at her hand as if making sure Maeve was safe and after a while chirped, allowing her to stroke his beautiful plumage.

“What is the bird saying,
mo cridhe
?”

Belenus chuckled. “He says you’re a beautiful woman. Frankly, I couldn’t agree more. He also says he welcomes your protection.”

Cerne smirked. “Smart bird.”

“Eagles are extremely intelligent creatures, actually.” Maeve laid gentle hands on the bird’s downy white head and again called to the God and Goddess for their protection. A foggy glow surrounded the bird, ensuring its safety. “Go, my winged-friend. Go with the Gods’ and Goddesses’ blessings.”

Belenus chirped and trilled, translating Maeve’s words. He thrust his arm out and the bird flapped its giant wings and took flight. It circled the encampment and caught a gust of air, soaring through the sky.

“Wonderful work, my friends,” Cerne said, watching the tiny speck that remained of the eagle fade in the distance. “Shall we get a move on now? I miss my princess.” Had he just said that? “I mean, I miss the intimacies we share.” Maeve and Belenus raised their eyebrows in unison. Damn their prying minds.

“If you say so,” Maeve said in a singsong voice.

“I know so.” Cerne crossed his arms and glared at them.

“Let’s change the subject, shall we?” Belenus raked his fingers through his blond mane.

“Eventually Cerne will realize the truth of his feelings.” He fluttered his wings.

“Hopefully sooner than later.” Maeve opened her mouth to speak again but a deafening sound suddenly rang in their ears.

The shriek was unmistakable. A dragon rider loomed nearby. Had Korrigan discovered their plans?

“Let’s go!” Maeve shouted. “Now!”

~*~*~

“Shit!” Rhiannon grumbled, brushing dirt from her face. Aine lay next to her gasping for breath. “Sorry about that.”

“It’s okay,” Aine replied, sitting up. “I do not know why you bother saving me. I’m your enemy.”

Rhiannon needed someone to knock some sense into this girl. Then again, she’d obviously

been knocked about too much as it is. “You saved my life. It’s only fair that I return the favor, is it not?”

“Yes, I suppose it is.” Aine climbed to her feet and brushed the dust from the tattered remnants of her dress.

The dragon soared high above, circling them, teasing them, the rider’s blond mass of hair swirling in the wind. Fascinating! Not all Dark Faeries were born with dark hair. Then again, not all White Faeries were flaxen either. Cerne was living proof of that.

“That’s Tynan.” Aine’s voice wavered. “He’s one of Korrigan’s most trusted subjects, as well as an expert dragon rider. My sister is taking this personally. She’s sent her best warrior.”
Tynan?
Where had she heard that name before? She didn’t have time to dwell on the question. The dragon swooped again, heading toward them at full throttle. Smoke and steam rolled from its slanted nostrils as Tynan pulled at the reins.

“Aww, fuck!” Rhiannon growled, watching the bright red flames shoot from the dragon’s nose.

Aine lunged for Rhiannon, pushing her out of the way and screaming in terror as the fiery streak caught the tip of her wing. She threw herself onto the ground and rolled.

Stop, drop and roll, Rhiannon thought. Some lessons were universal. Noticing Aine’s wing still burned, she burst into action. She held out her hand and closed her eyes, concentrating on the healing energy. Bursts of cool light shot from her hand, hitting Aine’s wing. The fire smoldered out, leaving a tiny plume of smoke. Aine’s wing came out unscathed.

Aine’s gasp echoed through the air as she examined her wing. “You defeated heat with cool? Only the more advanced healers can do that.” Rhiannon shrugged. “We don’t have much time to talk about my healing abilities.” She pointed at the dragon. “He’s coming back.”

“If the dragon breathes its fire, do that again.” Aine gave Rhiannon an eager push. “I’ve been told it’s possible to freeze a dragon’s breath.”

“I’m new to all this magic stuff, though.” Rhiannon scratched her head. From what Maeve had told her, all faeries—even royalty—needed training. She shouldn’t have been able to do something so powerful.

“You’re a natural,” Aine said encouragingly. “I see it in your eyes.” She whipped around, scanning the clouds. “Get ready. He’s coming back!”

Rhiannon nodded, turned around and stood still. She put her right foot forward for leverage and held her hands out in front of her. She knew without a doubt the dragon would strike again.

They had little protection on this barren cliff. She had no other choice. It was either do nothing and get fried like a hamburger, or do something and
possibly
get fried like a hamburger. She’d take possibly getting torched than getting torched any day.

“Get behind me!” Rhiannon grinned when Aine dutifully did what was commanded.

“I’m only doing it because you seem to enjoy protecting me.”

“Hopefully you can thank me later.”

The dragon dove in closer as the ominous cloud of smoke billowed from its flared nostrils.

Damn! He’s going to blow!

The dragon shrieked loudly as a ball of blue fire burst from his nostrils.

Double damn!
Weren’t blue flames the hottest? She put thoughts of her grade school science classes to the back of her thoughts and closed her eyes, envisioning the cool energy emanating from her palms. She raised her hands toward the fiery ball of blue flames being propelled at them. The sound of ice meeting fire—a giant crack—rang through the air. The dragon’s shriek soon followed. Rhiannon opened her eyes to see shards of ice falling to the earth below.

“Merciful Goddess!” Aine exclaimed. “You did it!”

“He’ll be back, I’m sure.” Rhiannon rubbed her ice-cold hands. She shuddered, feeling the extreme cold radiate through her body. “Damn, that was some trick, wasn’t it?” Aine nodded. “I’ve never seen anything like it.”

“Is he gone for good?” Rhiannon figured not, but it was worth a try.

Aine shook her head. “No. But the dragon more than likely needs to replenish the steam.

The blue flames are the hottest a dragon can breath and they use up a large amount of its energy.

We should start moving so we can get a good head start. Tynan isn’t one to back down so easily.”

Rhiannon scratched her head while gathering her strength. Where in Fey had she heard that name before? “That name sounds familiar.”

“It’s a common faerie name,” Aine explained. “It does not surprise me.”

“Oh, okay.” Rhiannon shook her head. Something didn’t add up, but she took Aine’s word for now. She sucked in a deep breath, taking in the quick reprieve.

A reprieve which didn’t last long at all, much to Rhiannon’s chagrin. Looking up at the sky

and the dragon screeching as it continued its circle, Rhiannon shook her head. “Man, will this guy ever give up?”

Aine shook her head. “Not until we are sprayed with dragon’s fire and become burnt ashes on the ground.”

“Comforting thought, but I don’t plan on becoming a crispy critter today. I hope Tybald—or whatever his name is—understands.”