Báirseach- the Midding Gate Read online

  The ground trembles as two massive black creatures wander the grounds. Our coven stables the champions’ dragons on the other side of the village. They help protect and guard our shoreline against predators. While they are of considerable size, they are small for dragons. I watch as they tentatively probe the fence line with a raised claw. It looks as though they are poking the air above the stone border, but the digits visibly fold back as they encounter the magical ward.

  To my right, Master Riordan is talking with the two champions of my coven, pointing to the various homes on the property. As he points towards mine, he notices Renny and me and crooks a finger at us to go to him.

  Keeping Renny within arm’s reach, I pick my way across the yard. I want to make sure each dragon is aware of my positioning. Dragons are feral creatures. As such, I respect that any one of these creatures could take offense to either Renny or me and squash us like a bug.

  Some ancient Witch formed an accord with the creatures. The dragons allow a binding and a cooperative relationship with their Witch or Warlock.

  “Renny, the dragons will respect you if you show no fear. This means giving them space and making no sudden movements.”

  Ideally, I would have liked to ease the young intern into a meeting of the dragons. But we do not have that luxury, and the poor boy has been thrown into the deep end.

  Approaching Master Riordan, I greet Laurel and Connell before introducing Renny.

  “Miss Sage, thank the Goddess, do you know what is happening? We were feeding our girls when they raised their heads and started ambling this way.” I love that Laurel calls the female dragons ‘girls.’ “They could not be deterred, and now it appears there is a ward on the border.”

  “There is a ward, courtesy of Ciaran.” Facing the border, three more dragons come into view beyond the practice yard. “If you don’t mind, let’s wait until the others arrive, so I only have to share the news once. Elder Thyme is here, and I’m sure she will have more information as well.”

  I have just finished speaking when three dragons glide in. They are elegant and smooth, but despite that, there is a visible tremble of the ground and loud thuds as each lands close to the stable.

  Steam rises from their flared nostrils as they stomp around, occasionally sniffing the ground then the air as if searching for something in particular. Only one dragon is relaxed. A massive dragon with silver tipping the edges of his wings, horns, and tail, lays curled beside the furnace. His hindquarters are curled to the side, his front legs crossed with his chin resting on top.

  I take a moment to admire the glassy, obsidian-like scales on the majestic creatures in front of me. Three champions stride forward, all in various states of dress and all very angry. They are all familiar. Being champions, Master Riordan had me help deliver their dragons when they won their respective fairs.

  They are all fairly large men, but the champion from Craobhan towers over the other two. It’s almost impossible not to stare at the eye-catching Warlock. He has long, blond hair tied back with a leather band, green eyes, and his dragon must have tried to leave before he was dressed because he is clad in trousers and boots, but noticeably missing a shirt. He must have just had time to grab his cloak, for the blue wool of an Enforcer ripples behind him. I would think him handsome if not for the scowl and clenched jaw he’s aiming our way.

  “Good morning,” Master Riordan greets the new arrivals then pointing our way continues, “Cathmor, Ronan, Dermot if you recall this is Miss Sage, and this is our newest intern, Renny.”

  Cathmor, the scowler, gives us a curt nod before demanding, “Why have our dragons been called? There was no missive, no forewarning that we needed to come to Lámhach. Is there trouble? An emergency?”

  Settling against the half wall by the furnace, I lean back with my arms braced on the stones. “Are you familiar with Professor Ciaran?” Ronan and Dermot shake their heads ‘no,’ but Laurel, Connell, and Cathmor nod ‘yes.’ “Ciaran has been under the impression that I have the power to give the dragons to anyone I choose. Obviously, I cannot. In his anger, Ciaran has bespelled the Midding Gate and the entire wall. It was not well done, and instead of isolating me to this side of the border he has managed to exile all those without power. This includes your dragons.”

  The five champions cry out in anger, but Laurel’s softer voice prevails. “What does that mean for us? Do we lose our dragons? Are we expected to live on this side with them?”

  “I honestly don’t know, Laurel. Elder Thyme is here, and I believe we are waiting for the rest of the council as well. I expect that shelters, if not homes, will need to be built soon. Master Riordan, Renny, and I are the only Mundanes in our coven. But I anticipate that Mundanes from Craobhan and Farriage will be arriving as soon as they can get transport. Are there many more Mundanes?”

  Ronan — or is it Dermot?— responds, “We have two in Farriage. Though one was originally from Craobhan.”

  In a steely voice, Cathmor adds, “That is correct. There are no Mundane in our coven.”

  For some reason, that fact rubs me the wrong way. “There are no Mundane in your Coven right now? Or are you saying that Mundane are not allowed in your coven?”

  Cathmor gives me a once over and evades a direct answer. “We have no jobs that a Mundane can do, unlike Farriage or here. The Mundanes travel to where the work is.”

  “I find it hard to believe—” I am cut off by Master Riordan.

  “Sage, let’s tend to the dragons. There is no use debating this when for the immediate future, all Mundanes will be living this side of the Midding Gate.”

  Bowing to his logic, I give Cathmor a scathing look then gather Renny to me.

  “Let’s see if we can put some fresh hay down in the stalls. My da is having meat delivered soon, and the dragons will want a dry spot tonight.” Stopping before the first stall, I turn back to Master Riordan, “What will we do about our trip to Firehaven? The eggs will need to be placed in the lava pools soon.”

  “We’ll make decisions after the council has deliberated and we know what the fallout is.” Shaking his head, he looks out at the dragons wandering the land and the five champions who have seen Elder Thyme and are walking her way. “I’m glad that you and Ciaran are no longer together. There was always something about his eyes. He never quite met mine when we would talk, and I hated the way he patronized you for being a Mundane.”

  I let Master Riordan’s words marinate in my mind as Renny and I throw hay in the stalls and add water to the long trough outside. Our work takes twice as long, as Renny gawks and stumbles, amazed by the beautiful creatures. And they are beautiful. It's amazing the various shades of black that are represented.

  Throwing a glance towards my home, I see a crowd gathering at the door. As curious as I am about what discussion is occurring, I keep my focus on the dragons and their needs. It’s my comfort zone, the edges of the action, relying on others more capable to deal with the bespelled border and Ciaran’s abuse of power.

  6

  “Miss Sage!”

  I jog towards the Midding Gate to meet Cian, the butcher, who is floating five sides of beef behind him. My intent is to open the gate and direct him towards a feeding area.

  But I’ve forgotten the ward.

  A foot away from the gate I run into an invisible mass, rebounding and landing flat on my back. My nose and cheek sting, my bottom feels bruised, and my pride takes a hit. Laughter rings across the yard, and I know . . . I just know . . . that the deep, booming laugh belongs to Cathmor.

  Goddess. Why, Ciaran, why? Rubbing a hand at the pinch in my chest, I tightly close my eyes and allow myself a minute to grieve. Too many things are happening at once, but I won’t cry. Taking two deep, deep breaths I will the tears away.

  Focus on the dragons. There will be time to sort everything else out once the dragons are fed. Then I can focus on the ward and the bonding and that prejudiced . . . Warlock.

  Once I have my emotions under control, I focus on the f
ence again through my peripheral vision. Cian does a flick of the first two fingers of his right hand, and the gate magically opens. Propping myself up on the palms of my hands, I greet him then wave to the right.

  “If you could just drop them over by the last house, Cian, and maybe space them out? Perhaps every four feet or so? I’ll get the dragons situated once you are finished.”

  Wiping my nose, I glance at the red that wets my knuckles, wiping it off on the side of my trousers. Blushing furiously, I wait for my face to cool down and hope the redness has disappeared when I turn back to the crowd outside my house.

  Egan and Murphy are striding towards me, both with looks of concern. I wave them off, not wanting any more attention called to me.

  “I’m fine. Let me get the dragons fed, and I’ll join you. Renny!” I call the youngster to my side. Standing, I keep an eye on each dragon and while their nostrils flare at the smell of the meat, they remain by the stalls.

  He takes a wide loop around the large creatures and keeping them in his sight, hastens to my side. “Yes, Miss Sage?”

  “Here’s your first lesson. The alpha dragon will be given the first choice at the beef, then the two females, then the two males. Which do you think is the Alpha?”

  “The silvertip?” Renny points at the largest of the dragons.

  “Yes, then the smallest are the females. Would you like to approach the silvertip with me?”

  All covens are familiar with dragons. But very few are actually brave enough to interact with them. Renny will need to become accustomed to their presence, but five at once is understandably daunting. The most I’ve been around is three at a time, and while I’m confident, I don’t want to push my young intern.

  “Can I . . .? Is it alright if I stand with Master Riordan? I don’t think I’m ready to be that close.”

  Clapping him on the shoulder, I give him a reassuring smile. “It’s fine. I learned with only one here in the yard.” I glance around, “Don’t tell anyone, but I almost cried, I was that scared. You’re doing great. Much braver than I with five dragons here.”

  Renny gives me a broad smile then backs up, “Thank you, Miss Sage. I’ll just be over there.” He points towards my house before loping off.

  Squaring my shoulders, I approach Cian, thanking him for the meat and then turn to the silvertip. With a confident stride, I make eye contact, keeping my breaths even and making no unnecessary movements. I’ve almost reached him when a bellow startles me.

  “Stay away from my dragon, girl!”

  Keeping eye contact with the silvertip, I slow my stride before doing a half turn in Cathmor’s direction. At his shout, the silvertip has started to slowly rise, steam curling out of his nostrils, and his wings giving slight flutters as though he is ready to unfold them.

  “I know what I’m doing, Cathmor. Your dragon needs to eat. Please let me do my job.” My attempt to remain calm is belied by the strain in my voice.

  “He’s temperamental. You’ll get hurt.” Cathmor’s voice is coming closer, but my full attention has been captured by the rumble emanating from the alpha dragon.

  Standing stock-still, I warily watch the creature’s advance.

  “Miss Sage, slowly take a step towards me. He won’t harm me, and I can protect you.” Cathmor’s voice is steel and ice. It slices through me and pricks my pride.

  The snort I make is rude and unladylike. I know dragons. They are intimidating, but not once have I been scared of one. I have a healthy respect for the damage that one can do, but confident in my abilities, I meet the slitted, purple eye of the alpha.

  The silvertip bares his teeth, and if I’m not mistaken, he is grinning.

  “Miss Sage, now!” That bellow draws my gaze back to Cathmor. He's stopped several feet away, one hand clenched, the other outstretched, wiggling fingers at me to go to his side.

  A moment of hesitation is all it takes. The alpha takes one more step forward, and I’m suddenly in the shade of the beast. Two large forelegs, taller than the top of my head are on either side of me. Cathmor’s eyes widen as he raises both arms, waving them in a spell pattern. Whatever he’s doing is not necessary.

  “No, Cathmor, it’s alright. He won’t hurt me.” To prove my point, I turn fully into the silvertip and lay both of my hands upon his scaled underbelly.

  Slowly, gently, one clawed foot rises and tenderly wraps around my waist. The grip is strong but soft as I’m lifted high, higher, and then deposited on the shoulder of the beast.

  My heart thunders in my chest. Never has a dragon lifted me. Never has one willingly borne the weight of anyone other than a champion. I’m equal parts thrilled and anxious at this turn of events. I feel a light tap of a claw on my thigh nudging me closer to the dragon's neck, and I grab hold of the smaller dinner plate-sized scales there.

  Looking down from this considerable height, I see Egan and Murphy standing beside Cathmor. My two bondmates look on in awe, while Cathmor has fury written all over his face. Renny peeks out from behind his brother, eyes wide in excitement.

  The silvertip turns ever so slowly and ambles over to the beef. Lowering his massive head, he sniffs at two before choosing a third. The ride for me is smooth, and though his scales are rough, they do no damage.

  Like a big cat, he spins, then lowers his hindquarters to the ground. Stretching out his paws, he elongates his spine before curling in on himself. His spiked tail swishes once through the air before landing with a thud beside his feet. A deep growl emits from his maw, and the two females separate themselves and pad over for a meal. Once they’ve chosen their beef, the last two dragons stride over and take the last two carcasses.

  Have you ever watched a dragon eat? I don’t suggest it. There are bits of bone and meat flying and a lot of slobber. Hot saliva is dripping and steaming on the cold, winter ground.

  Shifting, I look across the yard to see that most of the group now stands closer to the gate. Master Riordan and Renny are entering the stalls, I assume to tend to the eggs. But Ciaran is being led in my direction by Cathmor. My ex-boyfriend's wrists are still bound together, and I can hear his protestations carrying across the yard.

  “I will abide by the council’s decisions, but I don’t know why I can’t reside in Sage’s cottage. She is mine, despite the bindings. She is mine.”

  The derision in Cathmor’s voice is unmistakable. “If you think the girl is going to want you in her home, or remain in a relationship with you, you are more misguided than I thought. You think you deserve a noble creature like a dragon? Neither Sage nor the dragons are possessions.” Cathmor escorts Ciaran right to the silvertip. “Look my Onyx in the eye and prove your worth.”

  Ciaran strains against the hold Cathmor has on his arm, eyes wide with fear. His whole body trembles when the silvertip’s tail rises and loops around his waist. The beast lifts Ciaran — exhibiting none of the gentleness he showed me — and stuffs Ciaran in the water trough.

  And then I hear something I’ve never heard before. Dragons laughing. At least that’s what I’m labeling it as. They are huffing quickly, the sides of their lips curled up with just a slight show of the razor-sharp teeth enclosed within.

  7

  I can’t help the peals of laughter from slipping past my lips. Let’s be honest, I don’t try to hold them back. Ciaran deserves the humiliation. His botched spell has caused problems that I’m sure we are not even aware of yet, so I don’t feel bad about finding humor in the situation. In fact, the look of fury on Ciaran's face only makes me laugh harder.

  Unfortunately, I forgot my precarious position on the silvertip’s shoulder and start sliding. I’ve only just started scrabbling for purchase when large hands grab me around the waist, and I find myself plastered against a naked chest before Cathmor unceremoniously lets go. Stumbling for a second, I grab at his arm to steady myself. Once I’m certain I have my footing, I pinch the large man just below the rib cage.

  “You don’t have to be so rough!”

  “You touched
my dragon! You call yourself a dragon tender and then you dare touch my Onyx without permission.” Cathmor turns and towers over me, going for intimidation. But he’s nothing compared to a dragon, and I poke the large man in the sternum.

  “Is there a spell to correct your vision? The alpha picked me up. I did not climb onto his shoulder. Get your attitude under control.” This man truly infuriates me. It’s obvious he has no love for Mundanes, but he doesn’t even respect my job as a dragon tender.

  Shaking my head, I spin around and start walking towards the Midding Gate, determined to ignore Cathmor. Soon enough, we’ll be off to Firehaven and will leave all this mess behind.

  “Girl, I am not done talking with you.” I can feel his presence behind me and walk a little faster, relieved to see Egan and Murphy heading in my direction.

  “Miss Sage are you quite all right?” Egan grips my hand and pulls me into a hug.

  “All right then, Love?” Murphy places a kiss on my temple but is giving a stern glare at the larger man coming up behind me. Ever since we were children, he has been protective of me, and the familiar touch is a comfort right now.

  “Everything is well. Walk me to the gate? I heard Ciaran mention that the council made a decision. I’d like to hear more from Elder Thyme.” Keeping my back to Cathmor, I straighten my spine, take the arms of each of my bondmates and continue on with the hope that I won’t have to deal with either Cathmor or Ciaran much longer.

  Elder Thyme steps forward and gently holds the tips of my fingers in her hands. “Sage, this is all grossly unfair to you and to the other Mundanes. We have tried to untangle the spell, but Ciaran is uncooperative, and I’m afraid we’ll have to study and see if others might be able to reverse it. It is not all bad news.” She gives me a strained smile. It’s obvious that there isn’t really anything good about this situation. “Though you, Master Riordan, and Renny may not pass through the Midding Gate, your friends and loved ones can. Rosemary’s mother, Prim, has been using her crystal ball to keep in touch with the other covens. We have two more Mundane making their way here.”