Báirseach- the Midding Gate Page 3

“Miss Sage . . .” He seems reluctant, but I’m sure. This feels right.

  My hands wrap the ribbon around his wrist two times before I start knotting it. I make it decorative, and he ends up with a knot that looks like a dragon wing.

  Satisfied, I grin and ask, “Do you like it?”

  “I do, Miss Sage, but—” I cut him off again. I can’t seem to control my words.

  “I wish mine would stay, but I know the first time I take a bath or get too close to a fire it will be lost.” I sigh, already mourning the loss of my wrist decoration.

  “If . . . if you’re sure, Miss Sage, I can bespell them,” Egan speaks slowly but firmly.

  Looking into his blazing eyes, I see need and desire and happiness. I can feel it enveloping me, and the words slip out, “I’m sure. I’m sure I never want it to come unraveled.”

  Egan’s gaze sweeps over my face before he looks down and takes my left forearm in the grasp of his left hand. Our ribbons are touching, and I grasp his forearm in turn. Placing his right hand over the ribbons, he gives me one last questioning look.

  “I’m ready, Egan.” And I am. Whatever this is, I want it.

  “Put your hand atop mine, Sage. You’ll know when to release it.” As soon as my palm rests on Egan’s hand, he speaks, “Bind and Stay, so mote it be.”

  Warmth encompasses my wrist and hand as words are pulled from my lips, “Stay and Bind, so mote it be.” There’s a sharp, searing pain at my wrist and then a cool wash of peace originates from that point and washes over my body.

  I don’t know how long we stand like that. I’m lost in Egan’s gaze until a sharp gasp draws my attention.

  Rosemary and Aidan have returned and stand to look down in awe at our arms.

  Emblazoned along the top of my wrist is a red, orange, and yellow flame tattoo where the ribbon was. Along Egan’s wrist is a red and black set of dragon wings.

  “Oh, Sage.” Rosemary tears up and looks at me. Whispering, she puts an arm around my waist. “Do you know what you’ve done?”

  “I did what was right. I had to do it, Rosemary. I felt driven, compelled almost to say the words.”

  Shaking her head, she looks at where Aidan has pulled Egan off to the side. They are having a whispered argument. Aidan emphatically points at the tattoo and then at me.

  “Aidan!” I stride over and stand between the two men. “I may not have magic, but I know when something is right. I live my life trusting my gut due to my lack of powers, and it has never led me wrong.”

  “But you’re bound. You’ve bound yourself to a man you just met tonight!” While Aidan rants and paces, I step to Egan and hold his hand.

  “Aidan! Stop!” Once I have his attention, I speak to my three companions. “Mam always told me the Goddess allows the magic to flow. And She doesn’t make mistakes. Do you understand, Aidan? I don’t know exactly what a bond is, but if the Goddess allowed this bond to be formed, then there is a reason. We’ll deal with the fallout together.”

  I glance at Egan, and he gently enfolds me in his arms.

  “Together,” he repeats.

  Oh, Goddess, what are you doing?

  4

  Morning came, as morning often does, way too early. The sunlight peeking through the mountain pass casts sparkles on the ice-coated grass. The day after Samhain always brings a light frost, and I enjoy the sound of the ice breaking underfoot as I make my way to the incubation room.

  “Good morn, Master Riordan.” I greet my boss as I switch out my leather cloak for a leather apron and long leather gloves.

  Master Riordan has pulled our travel wagon into the middle aisle of the dragon stalls and hands me the base of a traveling cage. “Good morn, Miss Sage. I felt a wash of magic in the yard after the festival last night. Would you know anything about that?”

  Halting at the half wall, I sheepishly peek over my shoulder, “I do. But I must speak to Mam and Da before I share it with you. They should be here soon, so you won’t have to wait long for my news.”

  I continue on my path outside, opening the outer gate to the furnace.

  The stomping of feet sounds behind us, and we both turn towards the Midding Gate. A young boy with tawny brown hair is being led forward by a much larger man. The boy is Renny, our new intern. Holding the youngster by the collar of a sheepskin-lined cloak is my friend Murphy, Renny’s older brother.

  Murphy is a teacher and must have taken the day off to bring his brother for his first true day as an intern. I frown at the hold he has on Renny, though.

  “Murphy, let the boy go.” Turning to Renny, I smile encouragingly. “Good morn, Renny. I know this is the last thing you want to be doing. But chin up, you will be going on an adventure that your friends may never go on.”

  His blue eyes spark with interest, but he fights to keep a frown on his face. “Doubt it will be much of an adventure, tending a fire all day.”

  I gasp in mock horror. “Tend the fire? Do you think your job is to tend the fire? That’s my job, thank you very much. No, you will have the privilege of handling the dragon eggs, in and out of lava pools. You will be luxuriating in the hot springs in the dead of winter, playing with dragons.” I scoff. “Tending the fire, indeed.”

  Placing a hand on Renny’s shoulder, I look between him and Murphy, “Unless, of course, your brother has promised you a different adventure? Maybe toting buckets of water in for his elemental class? Or perhaps, feeding the animals for the hexing professors?”

  Patting his shoulder, I nod my head then turn back to the furnace. I place my first cage on the lip of the door, grab the metal scoop and fill the bottom of the cage with burning embers. The males stand behind me silently. Then I reach both hands in and pull out the first dragon egg. I angle it in plain view, so Renny can see the way the normally black eggs glow orange from the heat of the furnace. As I gently place it in its cage, I offhandedly address Murphy.

  “Thanks for bringing Renny, but I think he’d rather stay with you than learn my boring job.” I hand off the cage to Master Riordan to cap and wait for him to hand me the next one. Fully turning to Renny, I say, “Thanks for coming out, Renny. There are still two more eggs to prepare for transport, so . . .” I trail off as I observe Renny peeking into the furnace then glancing at his brother.

  Taking a bold step forward, he states, “If you have gloves that will fit me, I would like to help you, Miss Sage.”

  Master Riordan chuckles, then leads the young boy away to get outfitted in protective gear for his first handling of a dragon egg.

  Carefully closing the gate, I turn to wait for their return and realize that Murphy is inspecting me with amusement. Over his shoulder, I see my parents and Ciaran arriving. My parents look worried, and Ciaran is clenching his fists in anger.

  Despite the inappropriateness of having a personal discussion in front of an audience, Ciaran bites out, “I have waited two years for you to hold up your portion of our relationship. But your refusal to network with me last night, and your continuing refusal to give me a dragon is beyond the pale. And then I find out about you and Egan. You don’t even know him. Yet, last night. . . .

  “Nevertheless, I need you in my life.” Ciaran glances at my parents then does a double-take when he realizes his colleague Murphy has witnessed his ridiculousness.

  “Walk me to the gate, Sage. You owe me that.”

  Pushing off, I walk ahead of him, eager for him to depart. Ciaran grabs my upper arm in a punishing grip and forces us to walk faster. For the first time, I notice how red his face is and the panting breaths he is taking, not from exertion but from anger.

  Standing by the gate, I shiver as a bitter wind blows through and storm clouds start rolling in. Ciaran rips my glove off my right hand then forcibly holds my hand down on the Midding Gate. It’s so sudden, I freeze.

  “You will get me a dragon this year, Sage.” As cold raindrops hit our hands, I flinch from the sting and the crazy, icy look I can see in Ciaran’s eye. My heart races as it occurs to me that he
is someone to be feared. I’ve forgotten that he is a powerful Warlock.

  Thunder rolls in the distance as I tell him the only answer I have. “No. That has never been something I can control.” I strive to keep my voice even, but I’m honestly terrified of my ex-boyfriend at this moment.

  “So be it.” Ciaran quickly binds my hand to the gate. “I heard you bonded with that man. If it’s a bonding you want, it’s a bonding you’ll get. With me.” Behind me, over the thunder, I can hear Murphy and my parents yelling.

  Placing his hand over mine, Ciaran begins to chant. I tug futilely to disengage my hand, especially when his words penetrate the terror fogging my mind.

  I want you to cower

  You without power

  My spell you will not sway

  The Midding Gate

  Becomes your fate

  It shall bar your way

  Until such time

  A dragon is mine

  Behind it, you will stay

  A blinding flash of lightning and boom of thunder almost drown out his shout, but I hear it.

  So mote it be!

  The spell burns away the binding cloth, and as I fall back, the last thing I see is the ripple of power that flows from the Midding Gate and along the stone border wall.

  5

  “That was a blatant misuse of your powers, Ciaran!” Every other word out of Murphy’s mouth is accented by a thud.

  There’s a slight ringing in my ears as consciousness returns. My mam’s familiar scent of pumpkin and nutmeg fills the air around me as she gently strokes my bangs out of my face. She is weeping and soothing me, before gently helping me to sit up when she notices I’m awake.

  The first sight that greets me is hard to swallow.

  Murphy is sitting astride Ciaran, delivering punch after punch to the prostrate man. Ciaran has a bloody nose, a cut along his upper lip, and swelling under his left eye. The last punch knocks him unconscious. As I watch, Murphy pulls the leather band from his hair and muttering to himself begins binding my ex-boyfriend’s wrists together.

  “Dimwit. . . . Didn’t even. . . . Poor choice . . ." The muttering continues with each loop of the leather and pull of a knot. With one last tug, Murphy addresses me, “How are ya’, Love? That spell packed a wallop.”

  Pushing aside his dark-blond hair, I press a thankful hand to his cheek. “I’m well, my friend. Surprised . . . shocked . . .” tilting my head back, I let the rain soak me and with a small laugh, tease, “Wet.”

  “Aye. This storm is a surprise. Now, your da has left to get the council, but in the meantime . . ." Murphy places a hand in mine, the other on my upper arm and gently pulls me to my feet. “Let’s get you somewhere dry while we wait. I’ll come back for the dimwit.”

  I steady myself against Murphy, pausing briefly to pick up my leather glove which Ciaran tossed so carelessly to the side. It’s slightly damp, but I tug it on. The biting rain gives me shivers as I’m wearing only a long-sleeved tunic and canvas trousers.

  Mam nestles up to my left side and wraps the excess material of her cloak around my shoulders. Together, she and Murphy take me to my home, settling me in an armchair by my cold hearth.

  “Go get Ciaran, Murphy. I’ll start a fire directly and start some tea.” Mam uses a quick flick of the wrist and a murmured spell to start a fire, while I hastily divest myself of the gloves and make sure that my sleeves are pulled down. I’ve not had time to speak to her and Da about my binding.

  Murphy returns with Ciaran over a shoulder, and he wastes no time laying him on the floor at my feet. I raise an inquisitive brow, and Murphy replies to my unasked question.

  “He doesn’t need to be damaging your furniture, Love. He’s drenched.” He squats in front of me and starts untying my boots. “Let’s get these wet things off of you.”

  His right hand is caught up in the laces of my left boot when Ciaran starts groaning. Reaching over to Ciaran’s bindings, he chants. “Bind and stay, so mote it be.” Ciaran’s bonds take on a fused wet-leather look.

  Impulsively, I lay my hand over Murphy’s at my boot and complete the spell, “Stay and bind, so mote it be.”

  A flash of heat, and I’m caught in a familiar cool wave of peace as I stare into Murphy’s blue-green eyes.

  Goddess! I’ve done it again. What is wrong with me?

  “Oh, dear. Oh, dear. Sage. Murphy.” Mam’s babble cuts through the fog of my mind. She’s entered my sitting room with two mugs, steam spiraling lazily out of the tops.

  I cut my eyes to her, witnessing a horrified expression on her face. “This should not be possible!!”

  “The Goddess controls the spells, Mistress Ivy. I accept Her blessing.” Murphy reassures my mam before pulling off my boot which is now missing its lacings. The top of his right hand is emblazoned with a set of blue and black dragon wings. Pulling off my boot, he eases the top of my purple fuzzy sock down to reveal a white, teal, and dark-blue wave tattoo along my left ankle.

  “But a binding. I’ve not seen one since I was a child. No one is ever sure why the Goddess bestows that blessing — and to bestow it on my Sage? I’ve never heard of a Mundane being bound.” Mam twists her hands together, worry evident in her posture and in the strain around her grey eyes.

  Sheepishly, I look from Mam to Murphy, “Is now a good time to tell you that this is my second binding?”

  “A second binding? Did my binding take at the Midding Gate, Sage?” Ciaran’s voice is weak and slurred, but he’s gaining strength and struggling to stand up.

  “What? No!” I emphatically deny that I’ve made a binding with Ciaran. “Is that what the spell was about? You truly tried to bind me?” Aghast, I stare at Ciaran and wonder if I ever really knew him.

  “Dearheart, if you’ve not been bound to Ciaran than who is the second binding with?” Mam hands me a mug of tea and perches on the edge of my side table. “Are you sure it was a binding?”

  The mug of tea is not doing a great job of hiding my flushed face from my mam, and I take a small sip to buy some time. Lowering it, I cradle the mug in both my hands and in a soft voice admit, “Egan. The new blacksmith, his name is Egan, and we were bound after the bonfire last night.”

  A rap on the door stops further conversation. Murphy opens the door to reveal Da, Elder Thyme, and an agitated Egan on my small stoop.

  Egan rushes to my side as soon as they cross the threshold. Clad in his work leathers over a tan sleeveless tunic and black canvas trousers, it is obvious he left straight from the smithy. Placing his left hand on my wrist, Egan takes a shuddering breath before kneeling on the floor by my chair.

  “Miss Sage, I was so worried. I heard a tremendous ‘boom,’ and I could sense you were in distress.” He tips his head to my shoulder, taking another deep breath and the anxiety I was feeling lowers a notch. “What happened?”

  “I, too, am curious about that wash of magic.” Elder Thyme glides in and takes a seat on my sofa, lowering her hood and giving a stern look Ciaran’s way.

  My ex-boyfriend glares around the room before mutinously staring at me, refusing to say a word.

  “Twas an abuse of his magic, it was. And like the dimwit he is, he’s bungled it.” Murphy’s strident voice fills my small sitting room. “He meant to keep Sage this side of the Midding Gate until he was given a dragon. But he has spelled the entire Midding fence.”

  Elder Thyme gives one slow blink and when her lashes rise, her focus has switched from Ciaran to Murphy. “Explain.”

  “He wrote his own spell, but in recitation, instead of saying ‘you, without power’ which would have focused the spell on Sage, he said ‘you without power.’ I fear, that all Mundane will be stuck this side of the Midding Gate.” Murphy’s jaw clenches in anger, “This includes my brother, Renny, and Master Riordan.”

  “I fear that it is more complicated than that.” Several deep thuds sound from outside as Elder Thyme speaks. “The dragons are arriving. We were sent news they were on their way.” Addressing Ciaran, her
voice is stern and lecturing. “By stating particularly ‘the Midding Gate’ you, sir, have made that the only entry point to the dragon lands. There are five dragons living with fair champions. Five dragons that are now restricted from their villages. Because, in case you have forgotten, Professor Ciaran, dragons have no magic.”

  Even with Egan’s and Murphy’s calming presence, I become agitated. All I know about dragons flows through my mind. Utmost on my mind is that the creatures need their champions. A dragon and a champion have a symbiotic bond. The magic flows from the champion enabling the dragon to live further from their natural home of Firehaven. In turn, it loops back to the champion giving them a new magical ability.

  If the dragons are restricted to this side of the Midding, their champions must live here, too. If not, the creatures are likely to return to Firehaven.

  Pounding on the door stalls any reply I could think of. Once again, Murphy takes the initiative to open the door. Renny runs in, caught between excitement, anxiety, and fear.

  “Miss Sage, the dragons! Master Riordan says you must come. The dragons and their champions are asking questions, and he needs your help.” Wide, teal eyes target Murphy as he continues in a voice that cracks in his excitement. “Murph, you need to see them. Dragons, Murph, real live dragons. I’ve never seen them this close.”

  Handing my mug off to my mam, I stuff my feet back into my boots, frowning at the missing lace. Egan digs into the pocket of his apron producing a long strip of leather.

  “You tie that one, and I’ll work on this one.” With a shy smile, he sets to work, giving me a hand up once we’re done.

  My worry about Ciaran’s spell and my two bindings is overshadowed by the reality of two possibly angry dragons. “It’s probably best if you keep a distance from the dragons for now, though if one of you could go see about having some sides of venison or beef brought over, that would be very helpful.” Slapping my gloves back on, I gather Renny by the shoulders and steer him out the door. “Come, Renny. It seems adventure has come to us.”