Báirseach- the Midding Gate Page 6

  The rest of the afternoon is spent speaking with the champions and teaching Renny basic duties of dragon tending. Thankfully, Cathmor has taken his leave to help his father with moving into Lámhach village. Ciaran and his Uncle Lennon stepped out of the last cottage to load up my ex-boyfriend's bags, but they avoided everyone.

  Lennon’s looks my way are unsettling. I’m not sure if he’s angry on Ciaran’s behalf or if he just doesn’t like me. I’ve only met him a couple of times, and he was coolly polite every time.

  Murphy’s parents swing by with dinner for everyone as the sun starts setting. Egan and I eat together, leaning on the warming wall to fight off the growing chill of the winter evening. Looking out into the yard, we watch as Murphy and Renny talk with their parents.

  “Murphy says you used to be neighbors?” Egan opens the wrap on the last parchment packet to reveal lemon tarts.

  Snatching one of the fragile treats, I nod at Egan’s question. “Yes, we went to school together until I was twelve and lived next door to each other until I moved here at eighteen. He and Rosemary are my best friends.”

  “I envy him. I would have liked to have known young Sage. Do you think we would have been best friends, too?”

  “I don’t know. I wasn’t in the normal classes. Murphy and Rosemary became my friends due to living near each other. I had other friends, but we didn’t really associate outside of school. And once I started my internship at twelve, we didn’t have a lot in common.” Shrugging away the past, I inquire, “Did you have any Mundane friends?”

  “Not friends, family. My cousin is Mundane and is on the way here now. I think you’ll get along well with Jasmine. She helps me assemble jewelry and mans my parents' store.” Egan stands and pulls me up beside him.

  “Do you think she'll be here before we leave?”

  “Goddess willing, they’ll be here soon. It’s a four-day trip, though. The urgency with which the dragons flew in. . . . I suspect they’ll be traveling non-stop.” Egan threads my hand through his elbow and proceeds to head in the direction of my cottage. “Let’s bid farewell to Murphy’s family.”

  We say goodnight to the champions and Master Riordan, before collecting Murphy and his brother. Together, we enter my cottage. I’ve always thought it was roomy and spacious, but with two large men and one growing boy, my home feels considerably smaller.

  I give a quick tour of the house, pointing out the bathroom and my two guest rooms. I also point out my outdoor shower off the side door to Renny. I explain how I use it before entering the house most days to keep the dirt and smells out of the house.

  “Laurel and Connell will be staying here with you. Learn as much as you can. I was proud that you were learning about Raven. She’s a beautiful dragon and takes well to Witches and Warlocks. Maybe when I return, you’ll have something new to teach me.”

  Renny’s teal eyes, so like Murphy’s, light up in wonder. “Do you think I’ll learn something you don’t know?”

  “I’m positive. I learn new things all the time, Renny. It’s just one of the things I love about being a dragon tender.” I walk towards the back and grab his sleeve to make him follow me to my garden. “Here’s my garden. You are all welcome to its bounty. You’ll see my mom come by every now and then to tend it while I’m gone. Rabbits get in sometimes, so be sure to be watchful and shoo them away.”

  Renny nods seriously as he looks around. “Can I ask you a question, Sage? Are you going to marry Murphy?”

  “Oh!” Flustered, I stick my hands in my pockets and amble back towards the cottage. “Are you asking because he and I are now bound?”

  “Well, yes . . . but also because he’s been in love with you for years. You should hear how he talks about your hair, and your eyes, and your bum—”

  “Renny!” My back stoop vibrates as Murphy’s large form bounds out the door, down the steps, and into the yard. “Your loose lips are killing me. Where’s the loyalty, Ren?”

  Rolling my lips, I bite them to keep the grin from overtaking my face. Peeking through my lashes, I’m amused at the pink tinging Murphy’s cheeks and the tips of his ears.

  “So . . . you like my . . . hair, Murphy?” it doesn’t seem possible, but the pink floods down his jaw and neck, as my friend gives me an embarrassed shrug.

  “Aye, well . . .,” coughing and looking away, he continues, “you know you’re a bonny lass, Sage.”

  A warm glow fills my chest as I gaze at Murphy and really see him. He’s grown from a tall, scrawny boy with too many cowlicks to count, into a large, muscled man with long, unruly curls held back with a leather strip. He was the boy who put frogs in my cups and spiders in my hair. But he was always my staunchest supporter and ally.

  Murphy finally meets my gaze, and for a moment, time stands still, and that sense of peace that I felt at our bonding fills me once again. I’m lost in memories of him and me growing up, when Renny disturbs our tension-filled gaze.

  “So, does this mean you’re getting married?” The young boy's determination is impressive.

  “Marriage has not been mentioned, Renny. We are still learning about the bond and what it means. Besides, I am also bonded to Egan. Am I supposed to marry them both? I think it has more to do with magical abilities than romantic relationships.” With one last glance at Murphy, I steer my intern into the cottage. “We have an early morning. Let’s all get some sleep.”

  10

  Waking in the dim light of early morning, I snuggle deeper into my down comforter. The temperature definitely dropped last night. We need to get through the pass before any significant snowfall. The snow not only makes the pass treacherous, but the lower temperatures will freeze the Lake of Sorrows. It’s generally a great spot to fish and supply us with food for the day.

  Stretching out, I ease my way out of the bed then strip the linens. I’ll collect the others’ bedding as well, so that it’s clean and fresh for the champions who will be residing here while we’re gone. Plan in place, I pull on a grey tunic overlaid with a maroon sweater. Next a pair of leggings with canvas trousers over for warmth. Thick wool socks follow, and I lace up my calf-high boots over my trousers. I tuck my gloves into my pocket as I leave my room.

  The house is silent as I tread across the hall and knock on the guest-room doors. “Rise and shine, sleepyheads.”

  Murmurs are heard from the door on the right, then louder voices as I distinctly hear Murphy, “Get up, Ren! No lazing about.”

  The door on the left pops open, and Egan exits with a leather bag over one shoulder and black boots in hand.

  “Good morn, Miss Sage.”

  “Morning, Egan. Maybe you could drop the Miss? You make me feel like one of the elders.” Gathering my hair to the side I start to braid it, only for Egan to put a restraining hand on mine.

  “Just a ponytail, please. Especially if I am dropping the Miss, Sage.” Dropping his items, Egan quickly gathers my hair into a ponytail, fishes a band from his pocket and ties it off.

  “Do you always travel with leather bands in your pockets?”

  “I do. Most are bits that I’ve cut from jewelry I’m making. I’ve found innumerable uses for them. Though, seeing my leathers in your hair has been the most enjoyable use so far.”

  After he gathers his items again, we exit the hall and wait in the living room for the brothers to join us.

  Rapid footsteps echo through the house as Renny runs past with Murphy fast on his heels. “Morning, Sage. Morning, Egan. Bye!” Renny is out the door, hair uncombed and cloak flapping behind him as he escapes out of the house.

  Murphy sinks into a chair, staring in consternation at the boots he’s dropped to the floor. “The little pest tied my laces together.” With a heavy sigh, he leans over and starts picking at the knots. He pauses briefly and flashes me a tilted grin, “Morning, Love.”

  “Morning, Murph. I’m just going to grab the linens and set them to soak. Laurel and Connell will need to hang them, but at least I’ll have them clean for them.” />
  “Sage.” Egan rises from his chair and approaches me, “Murphy and I will clean them if you remake the beds.”

  “You don’t have to do that. You’re my guests,” I protest.

  Murphy pipes in, huffing as he works a particularly tough knot, “We’re your bondmates, Love. Warlock bondmates. With my water aptitude and Egan’s fire, we’ll have them done quickly.”

  A familiar pang pinches my chest, but I cover my jealousy with a thankful smile. These men can do in minutes what it would take me a day to accomplish. I don’t mind the work, I’m used to it. But just once, I would like just a small bit of magic to ease my way.

  “Thank you. While you’re doing that, I’ll put some coffee on. I have some cranberry muffins from your mother, Murphy, and some eggs to scramble. We can break our fast as soon as they’re ready.”

  The sky is full of pink-tinged clouds as the sun spreads its rays across the dragon lands. A light dusting of snow has fallen during the night, and we follow Renny’s footprints to the dragon stables.

  Renny is bouncing from foot to foot clad in a too-large leather apron and long, leather gloves. “Can we move the eggs now? Master Riordan says we’re just waiting for you.”

  Nodding, I trade my cloak for my leather apron and pick my own set of long leather gloves. Turning to my bondmates, I ask, “Would you like to help?”

  “Yes.”

  “Aye.”

  Reaching back, I produce two more sets of gloves. Renny is placing the three metal carriers on the half wall when we approach. I open one and tilt my head to the intern. “Do you remember what I did yesterday?”

  “Yes. Scoop embers in the bottom then carefully place an egg in the carrier.” He looks to me for approval, which I happily give.

  “Exactly. Here, I’ll hold the carrier for you.”

  Renny reaches in with the metal scoop and deposits the embers, then hangs the scoop on its hook. Tentatively, he reaches in and with a beaming smile, extracts an egg with two hands. Reverently, he places it atop the embers then fits the lid snugly to seal in the heat.

  “Excellent!” I hand off the metal cylinder to Renny, “Take this to Master Riordan to put on the wagon. He’ll show you how to secure them. That’s an important step. We don’t want the eggs jostled about as we make our journey.”

  I lean on the half wall and watch as Renny gingerly walks to the wagon that has now been pulled into the yard between the stable and the cottage Ciaran is staying in.

  Speaking of my ex-boyfriend, the door to the cottage opens, and Ciaran and Lennon step out. Lennon has a stern look on his face, and while I can’t hear them, it’s obvious that Ciaran is angry. His face is screwed up in a scowl as he leans in, arms crossed, while speaking to his uncle.

  Other than teaching Ciaran the ways of a dragon tender, he’s not my problem. I dismiss the dynamics between him and his uncle and eye my bondmates. “Who’s next?”

  Egan steps forward and opens the furnace. “So, I grab some embers then place the egg in the carrier?”

  “That’s right. The dragon eggs are pretty hardy but they are still eggs, so be gentle.” I take the lid off the next cylinder and wait as Egan transfers some embers to the base.

  He hangs the scoop, then gives me a raised eyebrow before reaching in for an egg. I watch as the excitement on his face drains away and confusion takes over. Looking at me over his shoulder he asks, “Are they supposed to be slippery? I can’t quite get a grip.”

  “What? That’s not right. They’re rough and easy to grasp.” I’ve never had an issue picking up the eggs. Renny just picked one up and transferred it with no issues.

  Egan steps back, his hair damp with sweat from standing by the furnace for so long. “Murphy, you give it a try.”

  Murphy steps up, pulling his gloves up and spreading his fingers to make sure they are on correctly. He reaches in and after several seconds grunts, “I can’t pick it up. Every time I think I have a firm hold, it slips right back out.”

  Handing the carrier to Egan, I step closer and peer over Murphy’s shoulder. “Show me.”

  He stretches both hands out, cupping them around an egg, and it slithers away. Placing a hand on his shoulder, I lean closer, “Try again.”

  Murphy’s body is tense and his tone frustrated, “Aye, Love.”

  Once again, he reaches forward; cupping his left hand, he nudges and rolls an egg close to the furnace door. “Here we go.” He places both hands around the egg, hesitates, then frowning turns his head towards mine. “Love, take your hand off of me, please.”

  As soon as I step back, the egg shoots out between his fingers.

  Stepping back, he closes the furnace door and brushes the sweat off his brow. Rubbing the fingers of his left hand along the palm of his right, a small puddle of water forms in the dip of his palm. He rubs his hands together then with his wet palms runs his hands through his sweaty hair.

  “I think . . . and this is just a theory . . . I think only Mundanes can pick up the eggs. When you had your hand on my shoulder, I could tell there was a difference in the hold I had on the egg. As soon as you moved, it slipped away.”

  Like I told Renny, I learn new things about the dragons as I work with them. This new development is something that will need to be explored, and we can definitely put Murphy’s theory to the test while we’re on the road. But if this holds true, this means that Ciaran may not be able to help me with the hatching. It makes the process harder, but not impossible.

  “Well, it’s something to deal with later. If each of you can hold a carrier, I’ll transfer the eggs. Once they’re secured, we can head for the pass.” Egan and Murphy each take a cylinder while I complete the transfer.

  I let them tote the carriers to the wagon where they hand them over one at a time to Renny. “I’ll be back, I’m just going to check on the dragons and tell them goodbye. Can one of you collect Ciaran and let him know we’re heading out?”

  Walking the length of the stable, I tread the soft grass of the back pasture. Laying at random spots are the dragons. If not for the deep black color and the steam emitting from their long snouts, I would think that Master Riordan had set up a garden of statues.

  I pass each one, stroking a wing, a horn, a tail — whatever is within my reach. “Goodbye for now. I’m sorry your routines have been disrupted. I’ll take good care of the eggs and hatchlings. I’ll bring you new friends when I return.”

  11

  The thing about mountains is . . . they’re huge, colossal, and they look deceptively close. It takes the rest of the morning and into the afternoon before we pass through the foothills and enter the pass.

  During that time, Ciaran complains. He complains about the weather. He complains about the slow speed we are traveling. He complains about . . . everything. The only relief I get is when we enter the pass. The path narrows, and Murphy takes the lead. I follow in the wagon, while Egan and Ciaran bring up the rear.

  The wind is brutal, sleet is coming down and stinging any exposed skin, like tiny little needles. When Murphy slows, I keep my pace until he is riding just to the left of my seat.

  “I don’t think we should stop!” Murphy hollers to be heard above the driving wind. “Hand me some bread and jerky, and I’ll take it to Egan and Ciaran. Stay the course.”

  I don’t bother to pull my scarf down to respond. Transferring the reins into one hand I reach into the basket and hand him some packets of food. The men each have water jugs hanging off their saddles to wash down their lunch, so I flick the reins to pull ahead of the men. With one hand on the reins, I eat my supper, waving briefly at Egan as he takes Murphy’s place in the lead.

  The side of the pass is steep, and we’ve been traveling in shadow. But as the shadows lengthen and deepen, I know the sun is starting its descent, and we’ve not yet reached the halfway point where we’ll camp for the night. I urge the horses faster, knowing how frigid it can get on this road. The tightening in my chest releases as I see the bend before the pond.

>   On the left is an expanse of grass, a pond nestled against the curve of the pass created by a trickling waterfall. As I pull the wagon onto the grass I admire the small glimpses of green from the moss on the stones. Even more color is visible along the small outcroppings bordering the tiny fall in the form of ferns, mushrooms, and wildflowers. The aches in my back and thighs need to be stretched out, but the tension headache of the journey seems to melt away at the sight.

  Jumping down, I take care of the horses first. Unhitching them from the wagon and walking them to the pond for water. Someone, years ago, placed posts at intervals along the shore, and I secure the reins to one. Heading back to the wagon, I see that the men have dismounted and are taking the saddles off of their mounts.

  “I have oats for the horses in the back. Ciaran, come help me put some in the feeders after you secure your horse.” I pull out the feed bags before climbing into the back and opening the burlap sack of feed.

  Murphy yells out to Ciaran, “I’ll take your horse to the pond, go help Sage. Remember what I told you. Mind your attitude!”

  Ciaran stomps over and grabs the two feedbags I’ve filled. He’s biting his bottom lip, and his brow is dipped down in an obvious attempt at holding his tongue. I would love to know what my overprotective friend said to Ciaran. But honestly, I’m happy if he’s managed to curb my ex-boyfriend's antics.

  Once the horses are fed, rubbed down, and secured for the night, we slide the poles and large canvas tent from the leather loops on the side of the wagon where they have been hanging. Ciaran grumbles when I hand him a mallet and the spikes which will provide the needed tension for the lines of our shelter. Egan and Murphy erect the fabric and pole structure with their combined magic, while I demonstrate for Ciaran how to place the stakes and tie down the tension ropes.

  By the time we are done, Ciaran has a mashed thumb, and his hands have welts from pulling the lines tight. Grumbling, he stomps into the large tent, looking around at the large space. The space that is empty because I would not allow Egan or Murphy to bring anything in.