Then Arach collapsed over me.
“I suppose its a good thing that smoke rises,” I noted as I glanced at our foot and a half of semi-clean air.
Arach chuckled as he lifted himself above me. “It's a good thing that smoke doesn't bother us,” he corrected. “Although, I have no desire for it to invade our wardrobes. I'd better open the shutters.”
Arach got up and climbed over the bed frame—the iron still glowing red—and then went unerringly to the window, despite the thick fog. He opened the winter shutters and smoke poured out into the crisp night. The Dragon King looked back over his shoulder at me; eyes gleaming through the billowing haze. I shivered as I sat up; my dragon responding instantly to the rise of his.
“Shall we, A Thaisce?” Arach held his hand out to me.
I smiled as I went forward and took it. Arach helped me up onto the window ledge, and we jumped together. A lovers' leap.
Chapter Nineteen
The Forgetful Forest spread out below me as I flew beside my husband. His crimson scales were dimmed in the darkness to a more sinister shade, but the moonlight gleamed over him and made it appear as if he were covered in jewels. In contrast, my golden hide lightened and combined with the moonbeams to shine silver. We must have looked like the perfect pair from below; a dragon of silvery light and one of bejeweled darkness.
Below us, the forest was in its barest state; that time between the falling of leaves and the falling of snow. A few evergreens stood bastion against the Fall, but most of the Forgetful Forest was nothing more than naked limbs; skeletal fingers reaching for the sky as if begging for mercy. The ground could be seen clearly beyond them; laid bare to the sky. But the little creatures were hidden in their dens for the night; safe from predators like us.
The cracks of our leathery wings in the quiet night sounded like the beat of marching drums and it made my dragon heart speed up. Something inside me felt a portent in the air; a warning of war to come. I didn't need it; I knew I was barreling toward another fight. I just wasn't sure who my opponent would be. But my dragon didn't care about minor details such as who or how; all she wanted to know was when and where. Would she be released to rend flesh from bones and burn whatever remains? Would she be given free rein to ride the wind as she did now and hunt our enemies?
But she already knew my answer. When it came to battle, she was my favorite weapon.
A triumphant roar rolled up my throat and across the flailing tree limbs of the Forgetful Forest. With it went a harsh wind that churned up the fallen leaves and cast them about like bloody snowflakes. Arach responded to my call with a roar of his own, and I dipped beneath him to then rise up and nudge my husband's belly playfully. Arach screeched in joy and tumbled with me; dragon lovers claiming the night.
We flew over the Castle of Eight; the magnificent home of the High Royals of Faerie. The eight trees that made up the fortifications and the main keep of the castle had lost their leaves, but their branches were still adorned with the bright pennants of King Cian, Queen Meara, and Prince Lugh. Very few lights shone from within the massive trunks—most of the windows and balconies were blocked by winter shutters—but there were faerie orbs hovering around the central tree as well as the guard posts along the castle walls. The castle was a beacon within the dark forest.
But Arach and I flew straight over it and toward the Kingdom of Water. The moonlight gleamed off the Faerie Sea in its gigantic basin; a siren song that was hard to ignore. Castle Deuraich passed beneath us as we continued over the black mirror of water and dipped low to admire the cresting waves that stretched toward the shore. The Water Fey were tucked safely beneath those waves; either in the dry city of Under—in its underground cavern—or the wet city of Water that rose above it. The King and Queen of Water, however, were most likely in Deuraich; the guardian castle perched on the lip of the basin.
As much as Queen Nora was a water fey now, she had originally been fire, and she preferred to sleep above the surface. She had once confessed to me that sleeping underwater was far more difficult than being there awake. A person born to breathe air had a hard time convincing their sleeping mind that it could now breathe water.
Arach and I didn't go too far over the sea; the distance we traveled would be doubled when we headed back, and we wanted to get home before daylight. So, we spun around and sped across Faerie to the only open window in our mountain-castle home. Light spilled out of it without the taint of smoke, and I was hoping the scent would also be diffused by now. Perhaps there would even be a fresh bed in the metal frame. Our staff was used to such things happening and had become adept at replacing mattresses and linens in the blink of an eye.
As we approached the window, we saw that it wasn't a new bed that awaited us but our twin sons; Rian and Brevyn. They stood at the sill; waving out at us with glee. Rian stepped onto the sill as if he was about to shift and join us, but Arach screeched a warning at him. Rian plopped back inside with a grumpy glare, but Brevyn took his hand and said something to his twin that mollified him.
