Page 47 of Dragon Keeper
“Very well.” Tyr laughed, the sound joyful. “Then you can start by taking me to the harvest festival.”
“Today?”
“Goddess, no! In a few weeks. Right now is for loving and soup and getting ready for fall. Silly dragon.”
“Ah. I’m new here still.” He winked. He would have to ask about holidays and such, though Cosmo and his brothers had mentioned Lunastra was different that way.
“Yes, well, we’re entering into the best times—Harvest, the giving feast or friend’s feast, depending where you come from, Yuul, the celebration of the Star goddess in spring.” Tyr hummed, the sound blissful.
“You’ll have to fill me in on all of them.” Sloan yawned, his jaw popping. “Soon.”
“Mmhmm. Later, cairi. Much later.” Tyr cuddled in. “Rest now.”
“Yes.” He snuggled down as well, and he hummed along with the few bees who were buzzing around outside of the window, braving the chill to make sure Tyr was well.
Right now, this was the perfect thing to be doing.
Chapter
Fifteen
All the bees were sound asleep and tucked into their hives, warm and safe and quiet.
Tyr was as happy as he ever could remember being.
Tonight wasKalanan, the Harvest Festival, the turning of the year with the promise of a long winter ahead of them.
So he was packing their cart with honey in every available size, from little tiny candies for the children to more significant jars for the adults, along with a few bottles of mead and some huge honey cakes for the feast.
Sloan came out carrying the bags with their masquerade costumes, frowning deeply. “Are you sure about this, Tyr?”
“Which part?” Of course, he was sure. This was the most exciting part of the year. He was rested, he was relaxed. He couldn’t wait.
“This is very… fancy.”
“Yes.” The costumes for the masquerade ball were the one chance in the year to pretend to be someone else, to wear things that were wildly colorful and decadent, to don masks to seduce your lovers. To dance under the moon. To sneak off into the fields and make love. To sit and drink mead around the bonfire. “It’s all glorious.”
His costume was formed of bright sapphires and emeralds like the colors of his mate’s eyes. There were feathers and gemstones, panels of heavily brocaded cloth, and a mask that was a slash of red. The entire thing screamed, “I am Sloan’s mate.”
“Oh, if you’re sure, then I’m sure too.”
He gave Sloan a warm smile, rewarding his lover. “I’m glad. This is the first year that I have a mate who I can dance with, someone to share in the celebration with me and share in the trading.”
Surely Sloan understood how important this was, how incredibly special. And if Sloan didn’t, well, Tyr would make sure that it happened. He had been looking forward to this since he was a teenager doing his first fumbling silly advances toward adulthood, toward the dances of mating. He would not lose this opportunity.
“Well then, I’m tickled that we get to do this. I had no idea that it was this important.”
“I know that Poe says that you had a celebration, but it’s mostly for children. The Howling Wind celebration?”
Sloan grinned at him. “Halloween. Yes, the children dress up, and they go from door to door asking for candy.”
“That is very much in line with what we do. We have everyone in the village together, and all of us trade. So a child will come up to you and offer you a bead, and you offer them a piece of candy or a tiny pot of honey. Then we have a feast, and afterward the elders will take all of the children to the center of town and tell them stories about the grove and about dragon history and about the turning of the wheel until they are all asleep. Once they slumber, the rest of us go, and there’s a clearing, and there’s music and dancing. Love making sometimes.”
Sloan’s eyes went wide, and his cheeks heated.
“Not in the clearing, but people do steal away.”
“Have you ever stolen away?”
