Page 20 of Dragon Keeper
“I’m sorry, love.”
“Thank you.” Tyr grabbed a bar of soap that smelled like, of course, honey. “We should get moving.”
“Of course. But you can talk to me about anything eventually. You know that.”
That got him a soft smile that was just for him, not the one Tyr had shown his brothers. “I know. Now come meet my bees once we rinse off.”
He kissed that sweet mouth gently, holding Tyr for a long moment while they stood under the water. Then he started to wash them both after taking the soap. “I can’t think of anything I’d like more.”
Chapter
Seven
Tyr brought his mate and his mate’s brothers out to see the hives.
It was beautiful and sunny early summer’s day, the wind blowing just barely, the sounds of birds in the bright blue vala trees, the bocapal lowing as they wandered through the nearby pastures.
All of the flowers bloomed happily in the gardens, which grew as if they were a huge wheel, the shape honoring the goddess, Bey, who protected the hives. The blooms were lovely—all different colors of the rainbow, a riot of hues and scents.
Not that that was why Tyr had them, of course.
The different flowers were for different flavors of honey. The huge bell-shaped malinga flowers gave them sweetness. They were favored by certain hives, while the tiniest white flowers of the delicate marin tree? Why, they gave everything an earthy sharpness.
His secret lay in variety. Of knowing which flowers to cultivate, to make the honey taste just as they liked it, while also satisfying his beloveds.
Tyr led the dragons along the spiral pathway he’d carefully laid in, stone by stone, until they reached the center of the gardens.
The hives were the spokes of the wheel, each hive having its own space, its own home.
The queens, of course, would not leave their hives. He would take Sloan to each one and make the introductions.
But the others?
The happy bees came out to greet and bob and dance. Then they would take information back to their queens and let them know that all would be well.
“This is Sloan, he’s my mate, and these are his brothers, Brayden and Riley. They are friends to the bees.” He held out his hands, and two bees landed on them, and he stroked their fuzzy little heads. “Good morning, my dears. Life is better now.”
They shimmied and danced, and he brought his hand over so the brothers could see. “These are from the Torah tribe hive. These are strong bees, very, very protective. They live on the outmost hives here. Their queens are loyal and fierce. So loving.”
Tyr stroked the back of the bee, showing Sloan and the others how to do it. “There’s no reason to be frightened. These are our family.”
“Our family.” Sloan nodded and reached out, touching with a gingerly caress. As they connected, his eyes went wide. “They’re soft.”
“They are. They’re very delicate. I love the way that they vibrate when they’re happy.”
“This is wild, Tyr, can I say hi?” Riley seemed so young, and Tyr knew that leaving the human world had hurt him, but he was here now, and Tyr would be his brother.
“Of course, hold out your hand. Someone will stop and say hello.”
Riley held out his hand, and sure enough, a great big bumbling bee from the Sokar hives came rolling in. A youngling, goofy and silly, rolled around on Riley’s palm, sending pollen flying.
They all laughed, because it was so perfect. Such an absolutely delicious moment, especially when Riley began to join in.
“Oh, they’re adorable.”
“They have personalities. Each hive has its own sense of self, which comes from the queen. When the queen is chosen, and the hive has welcomed its leader, its mother, she sets the tone of the hive.”
“The tone?” Sloan asked.
