Page 14

Graeme flew over the Cairngorms Mountains, going lower and lower the closer he got to home, breathing deeply of the crisp Scotland air, a mix of conflicting feelings twisting his mind. Nae bother. His home was with Heather now, and the young in her belly, with a fierce pack of wolven and half-angels as their friends.

They’d been flying for three hours, faster than a plane, and the time difference from Serenity to Scotland meant it was now 7 p.m. and dark out. The night was cold and the sky cloudless. Graeme scanned the mountainside, and the forest below, sensing no humans, no people at all, but plenty of wildlife sleeping and hunting in the forest.

“There it is!” Heather shouted, pointing in the correct direction.

My cottage? Can ye see it?

No. I guess I just… feel it.

Gar it appear.

What?

Make it appear.

From up here?

If ye can sense it, ye can make it appear.

Graeme tilted a bit to compensate as Heather leaned to the side, getting a good look. Her temperature flared briefly, and the cottage appeared.

Heather squealed in delight and Graeme swelled with pride at his little dragen mate. His whole life, he never would have considered someone a dragen if they couldn’t transform, but Heather proved she had a dragen’s heart every single day. He flew past and around his cottage, descending in slow circles, skimming the dark treetops, relishing the feel of his mate on his back, thinking she must surely make him stronger. The ground came up too fast, and he spread his wings wide to go up again, skimming the clearing in front of the cottage, making Heather whoop and grip him tighter with her thighs.

Aye, lass, that’s the way , he purred at her, feeling suddenly like having her underneath him rather than on top of him.

She didn’t respond for a second, then she laughed silkily in his head. Are we flying or…?

Graeme landed in the clearing near the front door with a bit of a thump. Again, he transformed and spun, catching his mate before she could fall. He pressed his lips to hers, pulling her close, his hands on her hips, hers around his shoulders. He put her down gently, pressing her against him, still kissing her, until, regretfully, he had to pull away. Her eyes were closed and she smiled slightly, her face upturned, her lips parted, as she waited for more. He gave her one more soft kiss, and then he let go of one of her hands and smiled at her. She opened her eyes, and only then saw his secret project.

“What’s that?” Heather said, pointing at the edge of the trees where a small building stood that had not been there the last time they’d visited.

Forest loo , Graeme said.

Heather smiled at him. “For me?”

He laughed. Isnae for me, lass.

She squeezed his hand and said, “Thank you.”

Yer fine, he said, with a wink and a smile . It’d cost a fair bit to have the composting toilet built way out in this remote area, and the police chief had had to pull a few strings for him, but Heather’s comfort was important to him, and he had plenty of money.

“I need it right now,” she said and pulled away from him. When she came back out she was smiling. “There’s water and towels and everything. I love it.”

He held out his hand to her, and when she took it, they went to the front door. Graeme opened it with a touch but only stuck his head in. The one room was covered with dust and obviously had not been entered since the last time he and Heather had been inside. He pulled the door closed and they went around to the back. Once there, Heather pulled away and went straight to the hidden cellar doors. She knelt and touched the ground and the doors appeared. Graeme gave a low whistle of appreciation, then moved in close to grab the door pulls. He heaved both doors open, then stepped in and down and picked up a lantern from the steps. He lit the wick with his fingers, then he reached back for Heather’s hand, and they descended together. Almost immediately, Graeme felt a strange suspicion, although he could not say why.

Be on yer guard, he told Heather in ruhi . Someone’s been here.

Her temperature flared high, and stayed high, and she squeezed his hand. He squeezed back and they continued down the steps, fully alert and ready for anything. When they were almost to the treasure room, the steps opened up into a brick-lined room that had never been there before.

Ach, he said. This is new.

He held the lantern high. In the middle of the room was a massive, locked, wooden treasure chest, with metal bars on the sides meant to be dragon holds for transport. Sitting on top of the chest was a much smaller chest, one the size of a breadbox.

In step with his mate, still holding her hand, Graeme circled the square, stone room and found no strange scents, no traps or calling cards, only an exit at the back that led to more steps. He knew what he would find inside the chest, because this had happened before. What he didn’t know was who had packed Rhen’s gold for him.

Whoever it was has come and gone, he told his mate. And left no wee tricks for us, only a chest full of gold to be moved.

She shook her head and looked at him, her expression distressed. This room wasn’t here before.

Aye, and won’t be again. Once we take this gold, the room will disappear.

How do you know?

Because I’ve seen it—not here, but at a nearby site, centuries ago. The gold was packed by an unkent guest, then placed in a room that did not exist before or after.

Unkent—unknown?

Aye.

Like a leprechaun or something?

Graeme looked around the room . A foxen more likely.

A foxen!?

Aye.

I thought they worked for Khain.

Aye, but sometimes they work for Rhen. They are the only shiften who can choose either. Besides dragen, foxen are the best choice to guard Rhen’s gold because natural laws govern all, including the hiding of things, and foxen study those laws and are good with them.

How does Rhen know they won’t steal her gold?

A foxen who has learned to work for Rhen has their own gold and no want to steal the gold of others.

Heather fell silent. Graeme led her back around so they stood facing the front of the chest, suspecting what the smaller chest was, and wondering if Heather did. He turned to look at her, and as he did, she pulled her hand from his, gasped, and pointed at the small chest.

“The gift from my dream!” she blurted out. Her voice did not echo, but seemed to be sucked up by the brick all around them.

“Aye,” Graeme said proudly. He took her hand again, leading her toward the exit at the back of the room, switching back to ruhi , saying, We’ll check on the rest of the gold, before we take possession of this.