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animal.”
    “She might have pecked your eyes out,” Bran said.
    Fionn nodded his agreement. Bella was more than capable of something like that. “I’m going to find Aislinn,” he told the others. “She’s probably outside next to the moat, since the small dragons like to swim.”
    “We’ll come with you.” Gwydion shot a glance Bran’s way. “Won’t we?”
    “Aye.” Bran stood. “I could use a dragon fix. Let’s see, we only need about one more week afore they’re cannon fodder.”
    “Doona let Dewi hear you call them that,” Fionn said and strode from the kitchen. If the Celtic dragon god had her way, her younglings would never get anywhere close to battle. Nidhogg was more reasonable, but in the end they were his children too, and he’d sacrifice himself to protect them.
     

Chapter Three
    Aislinn sat next to the moat, bundled against the chill of an early evening. Winter days were short this far north, and the ever-present damp soaked into her bones. Seven young dragons cavorted in the water. Rune had been in the moat with them, but he’d tired of their antics and now lay by her side, tongue lolling as his thick black and gray pelt dried. Thank Christ, Dewi and Nidhogg would be back within a few hours, and then they could take over.
    She sank her hand into Rune’s fur and he leaned into her touch. Her wolf had taught her about two magics she never suspected she held: Hunter and Healer. She’d always seen herself as a Mage with weak Seeker traits, but Rune had cornered her one day and demanded she bond with him. Shortly thereafter, he’d been critically injured, and she’d found ways to keep him alive. Fionn had shown her how to access the Seer gift. Insofar as she knew, she was the only human with all five magics, and she still wasn’t certain how she felt about it.
    One of the red dragons leaped from the water, wings flapping, and dive-bombed her, showering her with slimy moat water.
    “Ewww.” Aislinn sputtered the dank water away from her lips.
    “Play with us,” the female dragon demanded.
    “It’s almost time for bed.” Aislinn tried to sound stern, but she had the same problem with the younglings that plagued Dewi. They were so damned cute, it wasn’t easy to pull rank.
    “Bed?” echoed from six other dragonlings. They vaulted from the water and converged on her, nearly crushing her beneath their bulk.
    “Get off me,” Aislinn cried. “You’re heavy.”
    “Yes,” the one black dragon announced proudly and nudged Rune with his scaled snout. “Once I rode you. Soon you’ll fit atop my back.”
    “Don’t count on it,” Rune snarled.
    Aislinn snickered. Flying atop a dragon wasn’t the wolf’s favorite activity. He tolerated it when he had to, but avoided it when he could.
    “How’s it going, leannán?” Fionn strode down the greenway separating the moat from his castle.
    Aislinn scrambled to her feet and shook water out of her hair. Her beige trousers were thick, boiled wool and fairly resistant to moisture. A cloak woven from the same wool wrapped around her body. She’d found the clothes in one of many trunks in Fionn’s attic. He couldn’t recall who they’d belonged to, but she assumed it was an earlier wife or girlfriend since he’d been born in 1048.
    “Good, you’re here.” She squinted through the gloom. When he got close enough for her to see his face, the welcoming smile died on her lips.
    “Aye, well at least someone is glad of my presence.”
    “Didn’t go well, huh?” She held out her arms. He walked into them and wrapped his around her.
    “Nay. Mostly the humans want to wait until we’re attacked. Bran wants to annihilate the Lemurians first.” He tightened his arms around her shoulders. “I want to bash our way through the dark gods until they get fed up enough to retreat, but I canna do it by myself.”
    “We’ll help.” The black dragonling tried to wriggle between Fionn’s and Aislinn’s bodies. His scales caught on Aislinn’s