“In time, Loreena told him of the source of the silver. She was commanded to work all of it into weapons, but suspected the supply would never be diminished. Each day, there was just as much of it as there had been the day before. This was because Olaf had traded Argenta to Maeve in exchange for a spell to see his hoard defended while he was at war. Since he’d died, the spell had been dissolved and the hoard stolen, but Argenta had remained captive in Fae, spinning silver endlessly.”
Rania sat up straighter at this evidence of Maeve not keeping her pledge.
“Notus heard from Loreena how the maiden who spun the silver had come to believe that her father had been infinitely kinder than the Fae, for she was given no rest at all in the enchanted realm. Maeve’s appetite for silver was voracious beyond anything she had known before. When Notus told Loreena his tale of his lost mate, who was Argenta, they schemed together to save her. They realized they could combine their efforts to free all three of them from captivity. They waited until the night of All Hallows, when the Fae were going to ride into the mortal realm on their wild ride, for the veil between realms was said to be thin on that night. Notus freed Argenta from her prison: Loreena knew the locks and locations of keys, as well as the maze of Fae, while only a dragon could fly them out of the realm in time. Notus flew hard, with the maidens in his grasp, and while he flew, Loreena told Argenta about Notus. The spark of the firestorm lit Notus’ way and he reached the blacksmith’s cottage at daybreak, exhausted. Darius recognized his old friend immediately, even though fifteen years had passed, and guessed that one maiden was Argenta. He took the trio in, fed them and let them sleep.
“None of them realized that Maeve, on discovering their escape, flung a curse after them, dooming Argenta, Notus and Loreena to die immediately after achieving their greatest joy.”
Rania frowned at this cruel pronouncement. It seemed the Pyr had good reason to think that Maeve was unfair and unlikely to keep her word. She wondered whether they knew for certain that it was the Dark Queen’s curse, or if there was part of the story being omitted.
“Argenta was thrilled that the dragon who had rescued her was the man she’d come to love while still in her father’s home. Notus explained to her about the firestorm and the two pledged their troth to each other on the spring equinox, the day after their return from Fae. They wed beside the merry river as the last snow of the season fell around them.” The scene changed and Rania thought that something about the bend of the river looked familiar—but then rivers in forests tended to be similar. Once again, the snow seemed to follow Notus, but the pair who pledged to each other had rosy cheeks and wide smiles. The firestorm’s white light bathed all four of them in radiance and she saw Loreena wipe away a tear of joy.
“The pair satisfied the firestorm while Darian and Loreena went to market. The four of them lived happily in the cottage as Argenta’s belly rounded and once again, the smith made good coin from work forged under dragonfire.” Snow blew across the vision and swirled around the hut, which was cozy inside and lit by a roaring fire. “The wind was filled with the promise of winter when Argenta delivered her son, and Notus chose the name Hadrian for him. They were as much in love as ever and the arrival of their son made their happiness complete. The blacksmith wiped away a tear when he left them that night, then was surprised when the silversmith slipped her hand in his wizened one.” Rania smiled as Loreena led Darian to her bed, smiling sweetly at him. “That night, they two made love for the first time, and pledged to each other.”
Rania saw the pleasure that agreement gave both of them.
Alasdair frowned. “In the morning, though, Darian and Loreena found Argenta and Notus dead, struck down by Maeve’s curse in the moment of their greatest joy. The two were curled around their infant son, their bodies forming the shape of a heart, their hands clasped atop the baby.”
Rania gasped at the sight of the dragon shifter and his mate curved protectively around their infant son, who kicked his legs heartily despite his parents’ stillness. She bit her lip, realizing that Hadrian had been alone, without parents or siblings, just as she had been.
“Darian buried them in a clearing in the forest that was tranquil beyond all others, ensuring that they remained in the shape of a heart together, their hands entwined. He created a marker of steel forged in dragonfire, a heart that he had thought too fine to be a knocker. He realized then that he’d been unwittingly saving it for this use.”
Rania recognized the marker as the one she’d seen in the forest, and her heart thundered at the importance of that spot. It was a Pyr grave, but that of a Pyr with his mate. Hadrian’s parents. She swallowed. There had been a second marker, there, though, as well, and she had a feeling whose grave it might mark.
“Darian pledged to raise their son as his own and asked Loreena to be his bride. She agreed and they were happy together, in their own way. They prospered and they never forgot the dragon and his mate, ensuring that the boy knew his heritage and legacy.”
The vision spun again, seasons passing with dizzying speed.
“It was twelve years later when Darian had a dream. He awakened with a smile but no memory of the dream’s details, save the word ‘Boreus’. He conferred with Loreena but neither could make sense of it. Hadrian was tall and lanky by this time, on the cusp of manhood, and though the smith had watched, he had never yet seen any sign that the boy had inherited his father’s nature. On that very day, a stranger approached the cabin. He looked somewhat like Notus, but older, and when he offered his hand, he introduced himself as Boreus, cousin of the boy’s father, come to teach Hadrian what he needed to know. The younger man with him was his own son, Alasdair.”
“You,” Balthasar said.
Alasdair smiled.
Once again, Rania watched a dragon being tutored by other dragons. Alasdair was hematite and silver, but much more slender and agile in this vision. His father was amethyst and silver, a doughty opponent who moved with deliberation. He was both precise and encouraging in his instruction and Rania watched Hadrian master his skills.
“Darian and Loreena then had the honor of watching a Pyr instruct one of his own. They were as thrilled as Hadrian when he mastered the art of shifting shape, when he learned to fly, when he breathed fire for the first time. The cousins worked together day after day, until Boreus had been a fortnight at the blacksmith’s home. He had come on the new moon, the first new moon of autumn, and by the full moon, he announced that he would return home. Hadrian chose to go with him, and though the blacksmith and his wife were saddened by this, for they loved the boy dearly, they knew it was right for him to be with his own kind.”
The vision showed that cabin and clearing, the night sky overhead filled with stars. A yellow moon rose, hovering over the trees like a great lantern, then three of the people in the clearing shimmered blue. They shifted shape, one becoming a larger dragon of amethyst and silver, one becoming a slim dragon of hematite and silver, and the third becoming a slender dragon of emerald and silver. The three dragons bounded into the air and took flight as one—and if the youngest was a little slower in making the transition, the delay was barely noticeable. They circled the cabin as the couple below waved farewell, then turned and flew into the night. The trio were silhouetted against the moon for a long moment, then flew on, as swiftly as the night wind.