“Will the pony be okay?” she asked.
“Nobody’s better with all things equine,” he assured her. He hesitated, then asked, “Are you okay with me flying you up the mountain?”
Rhiannon blanched. “I’ll be fine. There’s not another way up, is there?”
“Flying is certainly the fastest way. There’s a path, but it’s easy to lose track of and takes a long time to traverse. And that’s if the Fair Folk of the area don’t decide to have their fun.”
Thank heaven. Brodrick wouldn’t be able to follow them easily. Rhiannon breathed a sigh of relief. “I’m ready to go when you are.”
Taliesin smiled faintly and pointed to the headgear. “Then put those on while I arrange our things, okay?”
She busied herself with the goggles—anything to not think about how high in the air they would shortly be and how near the possibility of plummeting to her death would become. She’d have to get used to this if she were marrying a dragon. Surely, he would want to take her places...
Oh, the entire situation made her head spin!
“Ready?”
Rhiannon jumped and turned to face her companion. “Yes.” Only to freeze at the sight before her.
Taliesin hadn’t been lying. A pair of sapphire-colored wings longer than he was tall protruded from his back, and two long horns curved elegantly from behind his ears like those of the mounted impala head in her father’s study. His powerful blue tail swished on the ground like a nervous cat’s.
He waited for her judgment—for her to scream or run away, but Rhiannon did neither. White as a sheet, she swallowed back her terror and forced herself to close the gap between them. “How far is your...” She trailed off, unsure of how to refer to his residence. Did he call a cave home? Or perhaps the forest before it gave way to nothing but rocky crags and cliffs. All she knew was that he didn’t sleep out in the open. He’d seemed too comfortable indoors for that.
“My cottage is about an hour’s flight from here. If you need to land at any time, let me know and I’ll do so. All right?”
“All right.” Her voice came out far fainter than she’d meant it to.
He gave her a reassuring smile. “You can keep your eyes closed the whole time if you would be more comfortable that way, and you can hold on to me as tightly as you need to.”
She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. With her permission, Taliesin scooped her into his arms and cradled her firmly against his chest. She in turn clung to him with arms looped behind his neck. “Ready?”
Rhiannon swallowed and closed her eyes. “Yes.”
His muscles tensed before he sprang into the air. Wind rushed against her cheeks. Panicked, Rhiannon buried her face against the crook of his neck. Part of her expected him to laugh at her expense—Brodrick certainly would have—but she only felt a gentle squeeze. In her ear she heard soothing words under the cacophony nearly drowning him out.
Their ascent evened out. Wind whipped around her, tugging at her hair and clothes. The air whistled in her ears, but they went no higher. Rhiannon dared to crack open one eye, and seeing the deep blue unfolding around them, stars just beginning to prick the sky, the other eye joined the first. To the west, the sun steadily sank beneath the horizon. To the east, the mountains glowed a fiery orange. Below, the landscape rushed by in a blur of colors just beginning to pop in the oncoming spring.
“Beautiful, isn’t it?” Taliesin called over the whistling wind. Rhiannon nodded, so entranced by the scenery that she thought little of leaning away. Taliesin redoubled his hold. “Hold on tight, Your Highness! I don’t want to drop you!” Panicked, she tightened her grasp around his neck.
Soaring through the sky, joined by birds returning early from their own journeys, Rhiannon found it surprisingly easy to forget her cares. Chilly as the world was around them, Taliesin’s arms were pleasantly warm. The steady drum of his heart and wings lulled Rhiannon into a sleepy haze. Try as she might, she couldn’t rouse herself. Perhaps it was the relief of knowing there was no dragon to eat her or the thought that she would at long last be free from Sir Brodrick. She couldn’t say for sure which sapped her of strength.
After her head drooped for the eleventh time, a rough beat of his wings startled her awake. A field surrounded them, one lit by the glow of out-of-season fireflies in the equally unseasonably summery weather. Just past a lake glimmering in the starlight stood a small cottage. The door opened, spilling warm lamplight over the cobblestone path. Within the doorway, a petite figure in gray stood with a lantern raised for them.
“Evening, Bells,” Taliesin called as he carefully set Rhiannon back on her feet. “We have a guest. Could you prepare a room for her?”
The woman put a hand on her hips and a frown on her face, though she said not a word. Taliesin realized his mistake and dug in his satchel to make amends. “Also, my mother wants you to have this. I’m not entirely sure what it is, but I assume you know what it’s for?”
Her face softened slightly at the sight of the little bottle. She took it, popped the seal, and sniffed. Apparently satisfied with its contents, she replaced the stopper and tucked the potion under her shawl.
Thinking himself out of the woods, Taliesin said to Rhiannon, “Rhiannon, this is Bellflower, my housekeeper. Bells, this is Her Highness, Princess Rhiannon.” The very idea of a dragon with a housekeeper was so absurd, Rhiannon could barely restrain her nervous laughter.
Bellflower’s mouth fell open, and for a split second, Rhiannon thought she would say something to scold Taliesin for the lack of warning. Much to her surprise, the housekeeper’s jaw snapped shut, and she padded out from the house with silent footsteps. She reached up on tiptoe to snag Taliesin’s shoulder without any hesitation. Dragging Taliesin with an iron grip, Bellflower reached the sparkling lake and unceremoniously flung him into the water.