Dragon King of Treoir Read online

  Oh yes. The minute Daegan stepped in to run things and told the gryphons they were free to come and go.

  Daegan swung his big dragon head around and looked down at Tristan. "Someone is recruiting our warriors. I'm going to assume they're offering something of value and targeting those who are not happy with my being in charge, since I haven't gone to meet with our forces yet."

  "Do you plan to do that?"

  "Eventually, but not until you have time to scout Ixxter."

  Tristan put it all together at once. "You're sending Ixxter out as bait and you want me to follow him to see if he flips to the other side?"

  "He's a logical choice. If he's loyal to us, he'll find Quinn, you or Evalle to inform on anyone attempting to solicit his allegiance. If he fails to do so, then he will have put himself in a compromising position." Daegan's silver eyes narrowed. "It will be Ixxter's choice, but as bait he'll have only one chance to survive."

  Tristan hoped that didn't end with the bait's shadow dying, too.

  Daegan stretched his wings. "I'll be at the castle soon. While I'm gone, you should warn Ixxter not to complain about any delay in my teleporting him to Atlanta. Also, go find Tzader."

  "Okay, what am I telling him?"

  "We must protect Beladors and their families. Tell him when I return I want to meet to discuss a plan. Have Brina teleport Evalle, Storm, Adrianna and Quinn to the castle."

  Before Tristan could get pissed over being left out of Daegan's inner circle, Daegan added, "If they arrive before I return, you start the meeting."

  "Me?"

  Daegan's head swung down to Tristan's eye level. "Yes, you. I want my closest advisors there, the people I know I can trust to speak the truth. You have earned your place at my table and your advice will always be welcome. Don't ever doubt that."

  Guess that's what a big slice of humble pie tasted like. Tristan said, "Got it."

  Appearing satisfied with that answer, Daegan lifted his head and drew in a deep breath, expanding his chest then exhaling slowly.

  Tristan waited to see if Daegan would take flight, wanting to ask him something that might put a kink in their working relationship. With the exception of sleeping a handful of hours, Daegan had been flying every minute since Tristan first gave him a tour of the island.

  Their new leader was not flying for the hell of it any more.

  The dragon was hunting something.

  Tristan risked Daegan's wrath by asking, "You want some help?"

  Daegan had been staring out to sea and turned to him. "Help with what?"

  "Finding whatever you've been hunting for since you flew over the island the first time."

  They had a moment of studying each other, then the dragon turned around, swishing his big tail behind him so quickly that Tristan had to jump back out of the way.

  Guess that's all the answer I'll get, Tristan mused silently to himself.

  Daegan spread his wings and with a couple of hops, he took to the air.

  Tristan watched as Daegan flew with a grace not one of the gryphons had, not even Tristan.

  The red dragon circled, light rippling across his scales with each sweep of his wings. As his massive shape passed overhead, Daegan's voice came into Tristan's mind.

  Do not let me hear that question spoken aloud again. Ever.

  The underlying threat in those words ended any other speculation on Tristan's part. At least any he'd let slip past his tongue.

  What could be so important to Daegan that he wanted it kept that secret?

  Chapter 13

  Treoir Island

  Quinn paced the room where Evalle, Storm and Tristan waited for Daegan, their new leader whom Quinn had yet to even meet. He wished he had come to this spectacular castle to visit his friends and not to bring bad news to a dragon he knew little about. With Saturday half gone back home and the Tribunal deadline rushing at him, he had to make the most of this time in Treoir.

  This could very well be his last visit.

  Tzader came strolling in holding Brina's elbow, which was more for Tzader than Brina. The woman might be pregnant, but she could teleport if she started to fall. They made quite a pair. She had red hair falling to her waist, sharp green eyes, and pale skin that hailed to her Celtic genes. A beauty with a backbone of steel, who was the perfect match for his friend. Tzader appeared African in descent, but he'd once told Quinn that his family tree went back to the time of the black Celts and the Picts.

  All that muscle bulk reminded Quinn of the Spartan warriors.

  Tzader might be a bit overprotective, but he'd waited a long time to hold Brina's elbow.

  All the anger eating at Quinn died down at the sight of those two. Tzader was the brother Quinn had never had, just as Evalle was a surrogate sister.

  Quinn found a certain peace in seeing Tzader finally with the woman he loved after years of Tzader standing on the opposite side of a ward from her. He and Brina had committed themselves to each other at a young age and were, at last, sharing the life they'd dreamed.

  Quinn and Kizira had also met when they were young, but any parallel between the two relationships ended at that point. He and Kizira had burned hot and fast over the two weeks they'd spent together.

  She hadn't informed him she was a Medb until the day she left.

  That had been thirteen years ago.

  More than once over the years, Quinn had believed he'd moved on. Then she would show up and he'd want her as much as he had the first time. He'd dismissed it as lust, determined to do his duty as a Belador, but the day she died ... nothing had been clear in his mind since then.

  Over the last year, his feelings for her had been turned inside out and upside down as the Belador-Medb conflict had escalated beyond the normal hatred. The fact that he and Kizira had met for the last time during a bloody battle wasn't lost on him.

  Watching her die had put him in conflict with himself. He knew the stages of grief, but he seemed to be stuck on anger.

  Why couldn't he get past that point?

  How could he be angry with a woman who had sacrificed her life for him?

  Because she never trusted you. That's what cut so deeply. She'd never trusted him enough to tell him the truth about her situation and give him a chance to help her. She'd never trusted him with the truth about their child during thirteen years.

  Why not? Had Kizira thought he'd refuse to protect their child?

  Or had she worried he would keep Phoedra from Kizira?

  No, he couldn't believe that about Kizira. Yes, she'd been a Medb priestess, but how could he fault her for decisions made while in an impossible situation? He wasn't sure he could have pulled off hiding a child the way Kizira had from a ruthless Medb queen who compelled her at every point.

  This internal argument is pointless.

  Quinn's head had been a battleground of its own making for too long and it had to stop before he put others in jeopardy.

  He was tired of his agonizing mental and emotional confusion. He just wanted to look in the mirror and respect that man again.

  Brina came over to him. "I'm happy to see you, Quinn."

  He opened his arms and hugged her, truly thrilled for Brina and Tzader. "Not as happy as I am to see you healthy and safe. Congratulations on the baby."

  "Thank you." She stepped back smiling, a good look on her after she'd sacrificed what she wanted for so long to protect her people.

  "It's good to be feelin' like a free person again," Brina said, her voice full of the smile on her face.

  Tzader stepped up next to her and Quinn wondered if his friend realized he'd been hovering. He didn't blame him. Quinn would do the same in his shoes.

  He asked Tzader, "What about you, Z? How are you doing?"

  Tzader stroked his hand over Brina's hair and pulled her to his side. "I try to be happy for what we have now and not think about how long Macha kept us apart, and how close we came to never being together."

  Evalle strolled over with Storm close behind. The plac
e was full of overprotective males and the women who loved them.

  Quinn's gaze flicked to Tristan. I'm not the only solo male standing around like a fifth wheel.

  Tristan tilted his head at Quinn, a reserved greeting from their normally outspoken and cranky Alterant.

  Evalle asked Tzader, "What's the plan for fixing this mess with our Beladors?"

  "I don't know."

  "What's Daegan saying?"

  "Today will be the first time I've seen him since you left."

  Quinn asked, "Does Daegan know everything that's going on? I don't mean to question his position, but our warriors don't even know he exists yet unless Macha has told someone, which I doubt or we'd have heard. They need to at least be informed as to whom they now answer and what he expects of them. Does anyone know? For example, will Daegan stand behind an individual in a crisis? Will he go to a Tribunal meeting if necessary?"

  Quinn's concerns would have more impact once this group realized he could no longer be Maistir.

  Tzader said, "I have no doubt that Daegan has a plan for our people and that he's going to support them, but I'll admit I don't know more because I've been distracted for a few days." His gaze went to Brina, who actually blushed. Tzader winked at her then told Quinn, "Ask Tristan. He's spent the most time with Daegan. He's the one who asked Brina to bring all of you in for this meeting."

  Everyone in the circle turned to Tristan.

  Quinn asked, "So you've spent time with Daegan?"

  Tristan's glowing, Alterant-green gaze took in all of them before he slowly nodded. "Yes." He lifted a shoulder, brushing it off as no big deal.

  Something more was going on with Tristan. Quinn asked, "Has your role here changed?"

  "Not really. It helps that I can teleport between here and the human world. I brought Evalle's last update to Daegan, but that was before tonight's patrol. I know he heard telepathically from Tzader, but anything else you all have from tonight is new."

  Quinn said, "It sounds as though you might know him best at this point. What else can you share?"

  Tristan maintained his distance and indifferent attitude. "Nothing much. I probably see Daegan more because he likes to fly the island."

  Evalle shook her head. "Why are you being that way, Tristan?"

  He held his arms out. "Now what have I done?"

  "Nothing, but Quinn hasn't even met Daegan. Quinn covered our butts by keeping Queen Maeve and Cathbad at a Tribunal meeting to give us time to rescue Daegan so he could cure Brina. All Quinn's asking for is a little insight, your opinion of Daegan now that our new leader has had a chance to settle in."

  Tristan cocked his head at Evalle. "You've met him. What do you think of Daegan?"

  "I'm pretty sure I speak for everyone else when I say we're ready to stand beside him, even if it means going to war." She looked to Storm, Tzader and Brina, who all nodded in agreement.

  Tristan shoved his hands in his pockets and moved closer to the group. "Here's what I think. I believe Daegan will protect everyone who supports him. I think he'll wade into battle neck deep and I have a feeling he's not the least bit intimidated over facing a Tribunal."

  Quinn said, "That sounds--"

  "But," Tristan continued, without slowing to let Quinn speak. "Daegan spent two thousand years imprisoned and has his own agenda. He's going to do things his way and on his schedule, which may not suit all of us all the time. In fact, it may not suit any of us a lot of the time, but I respect him and trust his decisions as being honorable. He's someone I will stand beside."

  Quinn tried to reconcile this version of Tristan with the one who had put Evalle on the hot seat on more than one occasion. Tristan of the past would have smarted off by now and pissed off everyone who questioned him.

  What had brought on this change in an Alterant who had been on the wrong side of a battle with the Beladors the first time Quinn met him?

  Evalle raised her eyebrows in surprise, but quipped, "I can live with that. Sounds like you're his new spokesman."

  "No," Tristan snapped. "I don't speak for him, I'm--"

  "Doing an exceptional job, Tristan," boomed from the entrance. "But you're wrong about him being my spokesman."

  Quinn swung toward that deep voice to find a man strolling into the room whose size hailed back to the days of Viking marauders. Daegan wasn't a person so much as a presence. Evalle had described the medieval attire the dragon king had worn after shifting from dragon to human, which was the image Quinn had expected.

  But their new leader must have gotten some clothing tips since then. He wore jeans and a dark T-shirt that pulled tight over his broad shoulders and fell loose at the waist. His forearms appeared capable of swinging Thor's hammer. But it was his eyes that said he would not only lead the way into battle, but succeed in killing every enemy he met.

  Nothing like the flashy look Macha had maintained when she'd ruled here. Quinn liked the change.

  Evalle seemed miffed at Daegan's announcement. "Why can't Tristan be your spokesman?"

  Tristan growled, "Evalle."

  Storm slashed a warning glare at Tristan, who ignored him.

  Daegan strolled up to the group and crossed his arms. "You should take care with your tone around Evalle, Tristan. Her mate is offended."

  Tristan smirked.

  Evalle must not have seen the interaction. She sent Storm a censuring look.

  Storm said, "What?"

  "Nothing."

  Chuckling, Tristan said, "Oh, yeah. Daegan, nothing from a female is still code for big trouble. I'm guessing that hasn't changed in two thousand years."

  Storm muttered, "You have to leave here sometime, Alterant."

  Appearing amused by all the posturing, Daegan announced, "To answer your question, Evalle, I would not be pleased with Tristan as my spokesman."

  Evalle gave Daegan a pissy look that fazed him as much as water on a duck's back.

  Tristan said nothing, but Quinn could see the way Daegan's remark had cut the young man.

  Was Daegan capable of leading warriors in this era?

  Daegan explained to Tristan, "Anyone can be a spokesman. I expect far more from you. I will call upon you to speak on my behalf at times, but you are my Ri Dtus."

  Evalle asked, "What is ... what do you mean by re-duce?"

  Daegan sighed. "Your Irish is sorely lacking."

  "Highly likely since I don't speak the language," she retorted with an arched eyebrow.

  Brina spoke up. "Daegan is sayin' ree then doos. It means Tristan is the king's first."

  "Aye. That is correct. Tristan will be in charge of all the royal guards on this island and will head up my Council of Seven."

  While Tristan stood there dumbfounded, Quinn asked, "Who is on this council?"

  Daegan finally acknowledged that he had a new member in the room. He extended his hand. "I take it you're Quinn."

  "Yes." Quinn clasped his hand. The moment he did, he felt the power flowing through Daegan. It reminded him of a dangerous volcano, capable of erupting at any second and unleashing a power that could rearrange a continent. "It's an honor to meet you."

  "And you." Daegan folded his arms again. "The seven are those of you standing here now, and that irritatin' witch."

  "Adrianna?" Evalle supplied with a grin. "Tzader said she was invited, but she couldn't make it. She asked me to pass along the message that if you want her to visit in the future to give her more notice."

  "Just as I said, irritatin'," Daegan groused. "I'll be discussin' her responsibilities with her when we meet again."

  Evalle murmured, "I want to be there for that."

  Daegan sent her a wry look, but returned his attention to Quinn. "I believe you have concerns about our warriors."

  That had been a diplomatic way to broach Quinn's issues. Quinn began, "Yes. They don't know you exist, for one thing, so none of them have any idea what you stand for or what is expected of them."

  "Understandable."

  How was that reply helpf
ul? Quinn pressed on. "I can appreciate how unrealistic it is to expect you to meet with all of them, but--"

  "Oh, but I do intend to meet with every one of them," Daegan countered.

  "What?" Quinn's sentiment echoed around the room.

  "I can't expect men and women to put their lives at risk and to blindly follow someone they neither know nor trust." Daegan paused in his explanation. "Why are we standin' here?"

  Tristan asked, "Is that a trick question?"

  In reply, Daegan waved them back. "Give me room." He lifted his hands and motioned as if he were directing an invisible symphony. When he lowered his hands, he murmured soft words and a round table with eight chairs appeared in the center of the room. Each chair had a different name engraved on the tall wooden back, and the seats were of soft deerskin.

  The top of the table was at first a wood finish with bronze accents, but when Daegan placed his hand on the surface and barked out words Quinn didn't recognize as Irish or any other language, Cyrillic symbols began appearing on the surface just inset from the edge.

  The six-inch-tall, gold letters ran all the way around the perimeter of the table, creating a completed border when the last gold stroke touched the first one.

  Rubbing his hands together, Daegan pulled the largest chair away from the table.

  Quinn noted the dragon image inlaid on the chair back in place of a name.

  Daegan said, "Take your seats."

  Tristan's chair had been placed directly to Daegan's right. Tristan hesitated for a moment, then took his place of honor.

  Quinn had never seen the young Alterant so humbled, or respected. Daegan just might turn out to be the leader they needed after all.

  The sad part was that as much as Quinn would like to observe the changes that were surely coming, he would not have that chance. He had no choice in his future.

  Brina sat on Daegan's left, then Tzader, Evalle, Storm, Quinn, Adrianna's empty seat and finally Tristan. Tall, frosted mugs appeared in front of Daegan and Tzader that Quinn would bet was beer.

  Tzader leaned across the table and whispered to Quinn, "I'll explain the mega beer mug later."

  Daegan waved a hand at the others. "Just ask for what you wish to drink and it will appear in front of you." As drinks began showing up, Daegan explained, "Also, everything said at this table is protected as long as I'm sitting here. The only way those conversations will be shared is if someone repeats our words after stepping away."