shut. “Fionn is my bonded one.”
Aislinn wrapped her head in another towel, chucked the damp one she’d used to dry off over a rack, and strode into the bedroom where she rummaged through a dresser she’d claimed for her things. Nothing was clean, but she dragged on dark, serviceable pants, a black wool shirt, and a heavy, plaid, woolen jacket. The towel slipped off her wet hair, so she picked it up off the floor and tossed it over a chair. Aislinn glanced at her boots and groaned. Each one was split up one side, but they were all she had. If she couldn’t come up with replacements, and damned soon, she’d be effectively barefoot. Not good for fighting.
Before she finished donning thick, woolen socks and lacing her boots, a heavy fist landed on the other side of her door. She sent magic outward and recognized Gwydion’s energy. Rune trotted to the door and nudged the deadbolt with his nose until it snicked open.
“Thanks, laddie.” Gwydion, garbed in a dark blue robe sashed with red, ambled into her room.
“I suppose I should thank you for knocking”—Aislinn narrowed her eyes—“but I’m not going to.”
“There’s food made in the kitchen.” He mock bowed. “Consider this your personal invitation to breakfast.”
“Awesome, since I missed dinner. And yesterday’s lunch, now that I think about it.” She laid a hand over her concave belly and realized she was starving. Finished with her boots, she got to her feet. “You saved me the time to find you. Once I’ve eaten, I’m going after Fionn.” Aislinn tipped her chin defiantly, daring him to contradict her.
“Oh ye are, are ye?” One corner of Gwydion’s mouth twisted into half a wry smile. “Were ye planning to check in with one of us first?”
Aislinn rolled her eyes. “Of course. I’m not that foolhardy.” She walked past Gwydion into the hall and toward a staircase, figuring he and the animals would follow. It took time to wend her way down to the main floor of Fionn’s manor house and through the great room furnished with wall hangings, Oriental rugs, paintings, and sculptures that museums would have fought over. At first, she’d been overawed by the richness and delicacy of crystal figurines and fine metal carvings. Today, she scarcely glanced at anything. Without Fionn, none of it was worth squat.
Another staircase at the far side of the great room led down into the kitchens. Fionn only used the large central room and pantry, but smaller rooms like the buttery lined both sides of it. She supposed it helped that he’d lived in a time without electricity and other modern contrivances because it made it easier to revert to using magic to cook.
“Where are the baby dragons?” she asked and wandered over to the stove to see what was in a large pot. Oatmeal plus nuts and dried fruit. She scooped a generous serving of the gelatinous mixture into a bowl, squirted honey over it, and made her way to the table.
“Outside with Dewi and Nidhogg and the other four adults,” Bran replied.
“Och, lassie, and ye missed a hell of a fight.” Arawn snorted.
“Let me guess,” Aislinn said between bites. “Dewi and Nidhogg had it out over the Minotaur.”
“I thought he was going to kill her.” Gwydion shook his head and helped himself to the cereal mixture.
“Yeah. I heard some of it before I fell asleep, mostly Dewi bellowing for me to attend her, but I decided it would be a bad idea. I like Nidhogg, and if I’d shown up, I’d have been caught dead in the middle.”
“Wise lass.” Arawn nodded approvingly. “Would ye like coffee or tea?”
“Coffee’s my first choice.”
The god of the dead rose and poured fragrant, dark liquid from a silver carafe, placing the cup in front of her.
“Thanks.” Aislinn smiled. “I don’t suppose there’s any milk.”
“Nay, lassie. A cow or goat dinna wander into the yard during the night.” Arawn returned to his chair. “Ye’re damned lucky there’re still coffee beans.
Aislinn wrapped her head in another towel, chucked the damp one she’d used to dry off over a rack, and strode into the bedroom where she rummaged through a dresser she’d claimed for her things. Nothing was clean, but she dragged on dark, serviceable pants, a black wool shirt, and a heavy, plaid, woolen jacket. The towel slipped off her wet hair, so she picked it up off the floor and tossed it over a chair. Aislinn glanced at her boots and groaned. Each one was split up one side, but they were all she had. If she couldn’t come up with replacements, and damned soon, she’d be effectively barefoot. Not good for fighting.
Before she finished donning thick, woolen socks and lacing her boots, a heavy fist landed on the other side of her door. She sent magic outward and recognized Gwydion’s energy. Rune trotted to the door and nudged the deadbolt with his nose until it snicked open.
“Thanks, laddie.” Gwydion, garbed in a dark blue robe sashed with red, ambled into her room.
“I suppose I should thank you for knocking”—Aislinn narrowed her eyes—“but I’m not going to.”
“There’s food made in the kitchen.” He mock bowed. “Consider this your personal invitation to breakfast.”
“Awesome, since I missed dinner. And yesterday’s lunch, now that I think about it.” She laid a hand over her concave belly and realized she was starving. Finished with her boots, she got to her feet. “You saved me the time to find you. Once I’ve eaten, I’m going after Fionn.” Aislinn tipped her chin defiantly, daring him to contradict her.
“Oh ye are, are ye?” One corner of Gwydion’s mouth twisted into half a wry smile. “Were ye planning to check in with one of us first?”
Aislinn rolled her eyes. “Of course. I’m not that foolhardy.” She walked past Gwydion into the hall and toward a staircase, figuring he and the animals would follow. It took time to wend her way down to the main floor of Fionn’s manor house and through the great room furnished with wall hangings, Oriental rugs, paintings, and sculptures that museums would have fought over. At first, she’d been overawed by the richness and delicacy of crystal figurines and fine metal carvings. Today, she scarcely glanced at anything. Without Fionn, none of it was worth squat.
Another staircase at the far side of the great room led down into the kitchens. Fionn only used the large central room and pantry, but smaller rooms like the buttery lined both sides of it. She supposed it helped that he’d lived in a time without electricity and other modern contrivances because it made it easier to revert to using magic to cook.
“Where are the baby dragons?” she asked and wandered over to the stove to see what was in a large pot. Oatmeal plus nuts and dried fruit. She scooped a generous serving of the gelatinous mixture into a bowl, squirted honey over it, and made her way to the table.
“Outside with Dewi and Nidhogg and the other four adults,” Bran replied.
“Och, lassie, and ye missed a hell of a fight.” Arawn snorted.
“Let me guess,” Aislinn said between bites. “Dewi and Nidhogg had it out over the Minotaur.”
“I thought he was going to kill her.” Gwydion shook his head and helped himself to the cereal mixture.
“Yeah. I heard some of it before I fell asleep, mostly Dewi bellowing for me to attend her, but I decided it would be a bad idea. I like Nidhogg, and if I’d shown up, I’d have been caught dead in the middle.”
“Wise lass.” Arawn nodded approvingly. “Would ye like coffee or tea?”
“Coffee’s my first choice.”
The god of the dead rose and poured fragrant, dark liquid from a silver carafe, placing the cup in front of her.
“Thanks.” Aislinn smiled. “I don’t suppose there’s any milk.”
“Nay, lassie. A cow or goat dinna wander into the yard during the night.” Arawn returned to his chair. “Ye’re damned lucky there’re still coffee beans.
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