“I know that, too.” Duncan pushed up to pace. “She’s not alone in that.”
“No, she’s not.”
“I feel something pushing in me, and I don’t know if it’s because she’s wrong and it’s time, or because she’s right and I want it to be time. Either way, she’s pissed now and a lot less likely to listen.”
Brooding, Simon noted. Well, he couldn’t fault that, as he enjoyed a good brood himself from time to time. He held his peace, let the boy brood while he studied him.
Unlike a lot of the other soldiers, Duncan hadn’t gone for the braid—or braids. His hair spilled and curled loose, midnight dark. No tats, either, no beads, no charms.
Like Fallon’s, his sword was always at his side. And like her, he had a tall, rangy body, well muscled. Well, the male version, Simon thought.
His boots showed miles of wear and battle scars—literal battle scars. He was a damn good soldier, a canny commander.
Broody green eyes, scruff on his face. Simon scrubbed a hand over his own, knew he couldn’t fault that, either.
And he couldn’t find fault in the boy—man, Simon corrected—for loving his daughter.
“Take her flowers.”
“What?” Duncan stopped pacing, stared. “Flowers?”
“Yeah, flowers. Something you pick yourself adds to it, so something wild. If it smells good, you rack up another point.”
“Wildflowers that smell good?”
“That’s right. It’ll catch her off guard. She might still be pissed, but she’ll be off-balance, too. Then state your case.”
“Flowers are everywhere anyway.”
“Trust me.”
“Okay.” Hesitating, he slid his hands in his pockets. “So. When this is finished, I want…”
“I knew this was coming.” Simon sighed.
“When it’s finished, I want us—Fallon and me—to get a place, make a place, find a place. Together. I’d like to get your blessing on that.”
Simon sat back. “You’re never going to be a farmer.”
“No, sir.”
“Well, I’ve got Travis and Ethan for that. Born farmers, both of them. She’ll need some land though. She likes to grow things. She’d start feeling closed in if she lived right inside a town. Nearby, that would do for her, but she needs room to breathe.”
“I love her, Simon. I’m going to do whatever I need to do to give her what she wants, what makes her happy.”
“I wish I didn’t know that was true, then I could say get the hell away from my baby, and I’d keep her with me. But I do know it’s true. You can take that as a blessing.” He rose, extended a hand. “One thing,” he said when he gripped Duncan’s. “No, two things. Finish it first, all the way. And don’t be too much of an asshole with my girl.”
“Deal. Both counts.”
* * *
He brought her flowers. He felt like an idiot, especially since he’d tracked her to a meadow loaded with them, but he brought her a fistful of wild lilies.
She stared at them like she’d never seen a stupid flower before, and made him feel like more of an idiot. “What are those for?”
“They’re for you.” He shoved them into her hands, then followed up with a simple truth. “They’re like you. Bright and beautiful and full of light. So.”
Then he saw Simon had been right, by the way she smiled, the way she bent her head to draw in their scent. Just a little off-balance.
“I can be sorry for pressuring you. It’s just … I feel something pushing in me. I feel it pushing harder and harder. I keep seeing the stone circle, the crows, the lightning. I feel it, Fallon, pushing in that dead wood, gloating in there, and my hand itches for my sword. Tonia, too. It’s the same for her.”
“I know it. I know it, Duncan, and it only makes it more frustrating to know not yet. Still not yet. I’ve asked. I’ve cast circles and asked, but it’s the one question they don’t answer. I’ve looked in the crystal. I see the dragon, the black dragon, Petra on its back. And nothing I do, nothing we do, stops her.
“I’ve looked in the fire, searched the flames. I see Tonia bleeding on the ground, the dragon breathing death, a rain of black lightning. And the circle, the center opens wider, wider, and more dark pours out. It pulls you in. I can’t stop it. And I’m alone.”
It was his turn to lead with the edge. “For fuck’s sake. Why am I just hearing this?”
“I had to think. What does it mean? And I know it means that can happen if we don’t wait. It can happen if we don’t find the way to kill the dragon, destroy Petra.”
“We’re stronger than she is.”
“I believe that, but what’s there, in that place? It feeds her just as she feeds it. And the dragon—”
She broke off, eyes narrowing. “The dragon,” she repeated. “We need to slay the dragon. It knows its own weaknesses, right? If you want to know how to kill a dragon, ask a dragon. I need to talk to Vivienne.”
He grabbed her hand in case she intended to flash away, then and there. “No spell in you for dragon slaying? You’re going to Canada?”
“I don’t know what kind of protection it may have been given. I’m not going to Canada. I need to talk to Vivienne on my ground, not hers. I need Chuck.”
She used Arlys as well to help her craft an invitation both diplomatic and flattering. She asked her mother to bake a Rainbow Cake. She took a ruby from the vaults in D.C., and with it crafted and conjured a gift for the Red Queen.
Vivienne, resplendent in emerald green, arrived with her entourage. Fallon met her alone, and chose the patio, as the gardens held their summer glory.
“How lovely it is here. Such a blooming. And, of course, your vegetables thrive.”
“We’re farmers,” Fallon said simply. “Please sit. I give you my mother’s regrets. She and my father were called away only this morning.”
“Oh? Qu’est-ce qui s’est passé?”
“A small band of PWs to handle. Ne t’en fais pas. Before she left, my mother made a cake in your honor. We call it a Rainbow Cake.” Fallon served a slice. “I thought you might enjoy it with some faerie wine.”
“Perfect.” Emeralds glittered at her ears as she nibbled. “And delicious.”
“I hope you’ll accept this token of our gratitude for your loyalty and comradeship. New York could not have been brought back into the light without your help.”
“My people rejoiced with yours.” She opened the box Fallon had tied with a fancy gold bow. Then wonder spread over her face as she lifted out the curled ruby dragon, laid it in the palm of her hand. “Oh! C’est magnifique. C’est merveilleux! Merci, mon amie, merci beaucoup. Je suis— Ah, English, I want to express myself in English. I’m touched, very deeply. I feel your light in this treasure.”
“Duncan sketched the dragon—you—to help me with the creation. It’s a gift, Vivienne, given in sincere gratitude.”
“Yes. And it will be precious to me.” She set it carefully back in the box, nibbled more cake. “But I, as I’m a cunning woman myself, sense more than a thank-you.”