“I want to come. It sounds urgent.” I get up and pull on a pair of my new leather pants, which are pliant and soft and amazing, the tanner having spelled the material for extra comfort. A new linen shirt slips over my head, handmade to my exact shape by Reta, the weaver. A gal sure could get used to having clothes that fit without any mess of shopping. My build always made that hard on Earth. Yet another thing that’s so much better here.
My eyes flick to Branikk. Along with gorgeous orc husbands, that is.
I run a hand over my hair, but I don’t need to do anything to it. Branikk braided it for me last night, playing with my hair as a new, delicious form of foreplay.
He strides through the main room of the cottage to throw open the door.
“Took you long enough,” Aurora says grumpily. “It’s not as if I ran for days to get here to see if you’re both okay or anything.” Which means that’s exactly what she’s done. She can grump all she wants. It doesn’t hide the fact that she’s a true friend.
“Aurora!” I duck around my husband and launch myself at the unicorn, wrapping my arms around her neck in a hug.
“So you’re okay,” she says, her voice soft.
“I am.”
When I step back, she touches my shoulder with her horn. It glows gold, and a tingle of magic runs through me. She gives a pleased humph.
“It’s so good to see you again,” I say. “How is everyone? How are the puppies? Are the cu sith part of the alliance?”
She stomps. “Well, ifcertain peoplegot out of bed, thencertain peoplecould come to the big meeting at the cleaning stone to discuss all of this.”
Branikk just laughs, ducks inside, and reappears with our boots, his sword now belted around his hips. We slip our shoes on, and he lifts me into the saddle and takes a seat behind me, his large body surrounding mine.
I sigh and lean back into him as Aurora sets off at an easy trot. “Just like old times.”
“Better.” His hand tightens on my stomach and he kisses the top of my head. “Because now you love me.”
“She loved you before, you big dolt. Almost as much as you loved her.” Aurora tosses her head and whinnies a laugh. “Bipeds are so clueless.”
Then she gallops, making Branikk hold me even tighter as the ten-minute walk to the standing stone blurs into a trip of only a minute. In a flash, we’re out of the village and running between pine trees. Then the way lightens ahead, and several other unicorns step out to block the way into the clearing.
“Halt in the name of King Aldronn,” an unfamiliar orc says.
“We’re expected.” Aurora flashes her horn.
“It’s okay. The king’s guard is just doing his job.” Branikk dismounts and lifts me down. “We’re Aurora of the UmbriallPlains, Grace, the human witch, and Branikk of the Moon Blade Clan.”
It’s a little weird the way they ignore my last name and focus on my magical powers instead, but it also makes a kind of sense. Why would a human name mean anything in Faerie?
The orc strides away, leaving us standing with several unknown unicorns, all saddled. I expect them to talk to Aurora, but they’re quiet. When I lean close to ask Branikk, he says, “They’re from a different herd.”
“And they can hear everything you say,” Aurora adds.
The other unicorns remain icy, but I could swear a couple of them pose for Aurora, heads raised majestically, chests thrust out. If she notices, she doesn’t let on.
The orc guard returns. “You’re expected.”
The unicorns step aside, and we walk into the clearing dominated by the twenty-foot standing stone on one side, and the equally tall green dragon on the other.
Dear god, she’s hella big, like the-size-of-a-house big. I come to an abrupt halt. Branikk had told me the story of how he got me to the village, but… Whew.
“Sheevora the Magnificent.” Branikk offers a bow. “I thank you again for aiding me in getting my bride to medical aid so quickly.”
“And I thank her for her assistance in saving my son,” a booming alto rings through the clearing.”
Drake takes a step forward, and I finally notice him at his mother’s side. In fact, there are several people in the clearing that I’ve ignored until now, becausedragon.
There are a couple of unicorns, there’s Mist, and there’s Ashley and Dravarr, standing with Sturrm beside another orc. He’s a bit older, like Sturrm, and he’s dressed the same as the other orcs in brown leather pants and boots and a dark-purple linen shirt. He even wears a sword with the ease of familiarity.The only thing that tells me he’s the king is the air of command that seems to emanate from him.