“Give her to me.” Aodhan held out his hands, and Kevin relinquished the limp crow-cat. Aodhan examined her, carefully unfolding first one wing, then the other. “Hmmm. I see.”
“Is she going to be all right?” Cathy asked anxiously.
“Nothing seems to be broken.” Aodhan splayed the griffin’s tiny talons out between finger and thumb. The crow-cat didn’t react. “Her core temperature is lower than I’d like, though. She’ll need to rest somewhere warm for a few days.”
The crow-cat managed a tiny, sad peep of agreement.
Aodhan’s eyes narrowed. “No food though. Clearly she’s too injured to be able to eat. Especially not cheese.”
The crow-cat’s head snapped up. She hissed, feathers bristling.
“I knew you were faking.” Aodhan unceremoniously dumped the crow-cat onto Kevin’s shoulder. “Stop fishing for sympathy, you wretched little liar. Morcant barely touched you.”
The little griffin flipped her wings indignantly. Turning her tail on Aodhan, she rubbed her head against Kevin’s ear.
“I’ll make her up a bed next to the stove in the kitchen,” Kevin said, stroking the crow-cat’s fur. As he turned away, Cathy caught him murmur to the griffin, “Don’t worry. I’ll give you cheese.”
“That animal,” Aodhan muttered as Kevin carried the crow-cat back toward the library, “is going to be spherical by midsummer.”
“She did save your life. I think she deserves a little pampering.” Cathy sighed, thinking of the other creatures who’d helped them. “I just wish we could reward the osses too. I’m worried about them. Are you sure they’ll be all right, all by themselves in the seelie lands?”
“Trees have deep roots. They’ll find their way back to us, if they wish.” Aodhan put an arm around her, drawing her closer. His fingers caressed the small of her back, and Cathy’s breath caught. “And speaking of saving my life, I would like to point out that you were far more instrumental than the crow-cat in that regard. I do hope you want more than just a lump of cheese in return.”
Motley cleared his throat. “Still here. Just saying.”
Aodhan growled, letting his hand fall. “I am beginning to see some distinct disadvantages to this whole ‘inviting people to stay’ business. Whose bright idea was it, anyway?”
“Yours,” Cathy reminded him. “And don’t forget, there are advantages too.”
“I’m not sure I recall them.”
“Well, I do.” She looked past him, smiling. “Motley, would you mind babysitting tonight?”
* * *
“Are you sure about this?” Cathy asked Aodhan much later.
They were alone at last. The last rays of sunset were slipping from the sky, deep oranges and pinks shifting to purple. Night rolled like a soft blanket over the wood as birds found their nests, settling down to sleep one by one. The vast bulk of the oak rose over them all, branches spread in silent benediction.
“Don’t worry.” Aodhan rolled his shoulders as he spoke, turning from side to side like a runner stretching before a race. “Thanks to your magic, most of my injuries are completely healed. I wouldn’t care to go a few more rounds with Morcant, but I can manage a little physical exertion.”
“That’s not what I meant.” She bit her lip. “Are you sure you want to do this? We don’t have to. Not ever.”
In the fading light, Aodhan smiled. He cupped the side of her face, thumb brushing along her cheek. Bending down, he kissed her, slow and deep.
“I want to,” he whispered against her lips. “I want to give you everything, Cathy. All of me. Not out of desperation or to save our lives, but by my own free will. For us. For you.”
He stepped back, into a patch of moonlight. His form blurred, radiance rippling around him—and the alicorn stood there, tall and proud, his sapphire eyes soft with love. Her alicorn.
He dipped his head, offering her his horn. She touched that gleaming length, and light ran over her own body. The now familiar un-weight of her armor folded around her, filling her with strength.
All weariness melted away, replaced by golden warmth. His power flooding through her, mingling with her own.
Roses raced around Aodhan’s powerful neck and flanks, linking together into his own armor. Flowers bloomed across his forehead. Not a bridle, but a crown; the same crown of roses she wore herself.
Cathy pressed her cheek against his for a moment, his hide soft as petals against her skin. Aodhan started to kneel, but she stopped him with a brief touch against his neck. He didn’t have to lower himself for her to mount.
Taking hold of his mane, she vaulted onto his back. Easy, so easy, to settle herself behind his wings. No need for a saddle. Their bodies fit together as though they’d been made for each other.