Page 48 of Dragon Keeper
Tyr ducked his head. “When I was younger, yes. But this is the first time that I have done it with you, with my mate. Are your brothers coming up?”
“Brayden will be celebrating with your sister and the ocean dragons. And Riley? I don’t know.”
“If he is in this realm, he will be celebrating. Hopefully with a very good friend that he can steal away with.” He tilted his head, unsure whether or not to say anything. “I think that Harden would like it if Brayden came to our celebration. If he wasn’t going to be at the ocean. I think that would please Harden very much.”
“Do you think so?” Sloan tilted his head. “I wondered if the wind was blowing that way considering how Brayden looks when you mention Harden’s name, but I hadn’t seen any real evidence that they were talking or thinking about seeing each other socially.”
“I think that is because Harden is very difficult to get to know.” Tyr waved a hand. “Perhaps Brayden does not feel welcome. But I know Harden enjoys his company.” That seemed a delicate enough way to say that Harden looked at Brayden with a longing in his eyes that could not be disguised at all.
“Well then, give me a moment.” Sloan paused while loading one last load of honey into the wagon, his eyes crossing slightly in the most adorable way, which always meant that he was talking to one of his brothers on a private band in his mind. The process still took Sloan some effort in order to do it.
“There. I told Brayden he should come up for a little while. It’ll only take him a short time to fly, and then if nothing comes of it, he can go back down to the ocean and revel with the water dragons.”
“He doesn’t have someone special down there that he wishes to celebrate with, correct?”
“No, he’s just very fond of your sister and her family, and he loves little Fredda. Brayden was always one for making friends with the kids that we met along the way. The Rocky Mountain clutch children love him too.” Sloan chuckled, shaking his head. “I think I always intimidate the children, and Riley is still one of them so…” He trailed off.
Tyr had to laugh at that, because that was so true. Riley could be, if not immature, then childlike more than childish perhaps. He still had that self-fulfilling importance of youth.
“No. I do hope that, wherever he is, Riley is happy.”
“I heard from him last week. He sounded like he was. Apparently, awak season is over, but he is in some town near the edge of the continent toward the land gap?—”
Tyr gasped, his eyebrows flying up. “Not D’kryw city?”
“No, he said he hadn’t made it that far yet. I think he’s a little hesitant to go there by himself, and most of his awak sport friends have abandoned him to go back to their own villages and towns.” Sloan finally put everything into the wagon and pulled his cloak on. Tyr had asked one of his friends in the village who was a tailor to make an outfit for Sloan, because Sloan really hadn’t taken it seriously, as he’d said. But now, with his cloak on and his mask sitting on top of his head so that he could pull it down whenever he wanted to, Tyr thought Sloan was dashing and glorious and so, so perfectly handsome.
And his.
“So, shall we?” Sloan asked, holding out a hand to help him move into the wagon.
“Yes, I think we should.” They rumbled in from his little farmstead to the village, and he saw the look of wonder on Sloan’s face as he glanced around.
Tyr saw everything newly through Sloan’s eyes, and he had to admit there was a certain grandeur to it. Lights twinkled all over the village common, and dragons stood and sat all around on blankets and benches and at tables, laughing and talking. Children ran around, their little costumes bright and colorful and covered in bells so that no evil spirits could take them away and hide them without alerting someone.
“Wow, this is more than I expected,” Sloan told him, his tone one of utter excitement now.
“I thought you would understand when you saw it.”
“Look at all the costumes.” Sloan stared. “I mean yours is the best, but this is wild.”
Tyr nodded, pulling his wagon off to one side. He would unhook the bocapal and let him rest with the others in the little corral that had been set up at the edge of the commons. People would come to him at his wagon to get honey, and he would then go around with Sloan to see what things they could trade for as well.
Sloan stopped him when he would have started fussing with his honey jars, and his mate pulled him around to give him a solid kiss. “Thank you for this, love.”
Tyr beamed, his cheeks heating as he glanced around to see if anybody had noticed them kissing. Not that he didn’t want them to. He did. “You’re very welcome.”
“Ah, Tyr.” Ganderyn, who was Cade’s father, came marching over to him to grab him away from Sloan and give him a hard hug. “It’s good to see you. Did you have a good harvest of your honey?”
“I did, thank you.” He grinned and pounded Ganderyn’s shoulders. “And you? Has it been a good year for the archives?”
“Every year is a good year for the archives.” Ganderyn beamed.
“Have you met my mate, Sloan?” He knew that Sloan had been there for plenty of time to meet many of the villagers, but at the same time, Sloan had been away at the ocean for months. Or possibly only days or weeks, but he lost track in the summer.
“I have. I met him at Cade and Poe’s house. It is good to see you again, Sloan. Do you think you will enjoy our harvest festival?”
“I do. I admit when Tyr told me about it, I was skeptical, but I was trying to compare it to a holiday that we might have at my old home. Now I know better.” Sloan turned in a full circle, arms out taking in the spectacle around them. “I think this looks like something I can’t even imagine. I can’t wait to experience every moment of it.”
