Page 34 of Under Gorse and Stone

I shake my head again. “Thiscannotbe true,” I say out loud. I consider that blatantly false statement and try again. “This most definitely is a dream. Wake up, Cary.”

The dragon cocks its head and utters a faint snorting noise, and I get the strong impression that it’s laughing at me. And why wouldn’t it? Because it’s patently real. It’s as real as the stone flags of the patio and the rocks and the sky.

A dragon is standing in front of me.

It moves and I flinch back, and the creature immediately stills, making a faint chuffing noise as if trying to reassure me. I make myself step forward. Part of me is screaming to run, run as fast as I can, but I’m not a fucking gingerbread man, and a bigger part of me is nodding and encouraging me to take another step.

“Are you going to eat me?” I whisper and hold my breath.

The dragon tosses its head, making a funny groaning noise, and I realise with a shock that it’s laughing.

“How is thatfunny?” I say indignantly.

It laughs some more. Then it stills and holds up one massive paw. It crooks its claw as if beckoning me, and although my instincts scream not to do it, something inside me moves me forward until I’m standing right in front of it. It towers above me, and the heat is intense, like standing in front of a fire on a freezing day, where your back and legs are cold, but your front is toasty warm. I inhale and draw in the same scent as Sigurd’s home.

For a fleeting second, I wonder where Sigurd has gone, but I already know the answer, and with the strangest sense of inevitability, I look up and into the dragon’s eyes for the first time.

They’re golden, the colour molten and sparkly, and they’re warm and soft with affection. They’re Sigurd’s eyes.

“It’s you,” I breathe. “Oh my god, it’syou.”

The dragon stills as if I’ve surprised him, and then he nods his huge head. Then he slowly inclines his head, and I realise he’s bowing to me. It’s a courtly gesture, and I hesitate for a second and bow in return. He makes a pleased snicker, and holding my breath, I reach out my hand and daringly lay it on his snout. The scales are hot beneath my fingers, and rather than being rough, they’re as smooth and silky as a pebble worn down by the sea.

There’s a ripple of movement, and the dragon tosses his head. My hand drops, and I cringe, but he’s only making himself comfortable, and I chuckle as he eases his snout back under my hand, rather like a big dog demanding to be petted. I stroke the snout, looking at him in fascination.

“Sigurd?” I say breathily.

The dragon’s head comes up, and those golden eyes lock on me. He cocks his head.

“I can’t believe it’s you.”

Believe, Cary.

I glance around and then I peer more closely into his eyes. “Did you say that?”

Believe.

I put my hand to my chest, sucking in much-needed air. “You’re talking to me. In my head.How?”

His golden eyes twinkle—looking remarkably like Sigurd’s in human form—and his voice sounds again.Hello, elskling.

It’s as comforting as when he’s a human, and relaxation steals over me, warmth seeping into my body like sinking into a hot bath after a cold day.

“How is this possible?” I say out loud.

Everything is possible, my Cary.

“This is real?”

He cocks his head.What do you think?

“Well, I considered I might be in a coma, but I’d really rather not do that at Christmas, so I’ve opted for yes, it’s real.”

The dragon huffs in amusement, and I watch in fascination as gold and pink sparks shoot out of his nostrils. “That's very pretty,” I breathe.

He nods.Thank you.

“Why did you ask me to stand back? Could you have hurt me?”