the brownie was staring at her with such reverence, Xavier wondered if the poor beast didn’t adore the woman something fierce, and didn’t that raise on odd and unexpected ache in his chest? He watched Avery dig in her bag for a hairbrush and draw her long hair over her shoulder to brush out the ends.
He approached her and reached for the brush. “Allow me.”
“You’re going to brush my hair?”
“Aye.” When she made a strange face, he added, “I’ve seen women do this for each other, and since there are na women here, it’s ma duty to fill in.”
She met his eyes and gave him a little nod, then followed his suggestion to sit on the bench near the fire. The heat would help dry her black locks. He stood behind her and began to run the strange brush through her hair.
“Whit is this tool constructed of?” he asked. The material was smooth as stone but lighter than wood.
“Plastic.”
“Whit’s plastic?”
She giggled. “It’s a man-made material from the modern world.”
“Much has changed since I laid the wards.”
“More than I can explain.”
The room grew quiet aside from the crackle of the fire and the sound of their breathing.
“Can I ask ye something, Avery?” He slowed his brushing.
“Sure.”
“You’ve a scar across yer chest.”
She glanced over her shoulder at him. “You saw more than I thought you did.”
He grunted. “It was above the surface.”
She smiled softly. “I was robbed at knifepoint. The man cut me when I fought him off.”
“You fought a man with a dirk? And withoot one yerself? Yer lucky to be alive.”
She snorted. “Actually, I injured him far worse. Kicked him through a glass countertop. He had to be hospitalized.”
Xavier couldn’t help but smile at the thought of Avery making a joke of her assailant. “Curaidh.”
“What does that mean?”
“It’s a Gaelic word for warrior. Ye’ve a warrior’s blood in ye.”
“You think I’m a warrior?”
“Aye. Normal women donna rescue dragons by their lonesome.”
She smiled and looked down at her hands. “I’ve been thinking,” she said. “I understand that you don’t want to come back with me, but Nathaniel would be far more help than I would to take back the castle. Why don’t you fly me out of the ward, and I’ll tell him you need his help? If you made the ward, you should be able to allow him through, right?”
He brushed her hair from crown to end, marveling at the black shine in the firelight and the scent of wisteria that filled his nose with each swipe. His inner dragon twisted and chuffed. He didn’t want her to go.
“I can’t.”
She frowned. “Why not?”
“The ward was constructed with the strongest magic known to fairy, dragon, and witch. A ward of its size has never been constructed before.”
“Nathaniel told me. He said he helped you.”
“Aye. He helped me and yet he can’t pass through it.” Her hair felt like silk and he caught himself running his fingers over it unnecessarily. “Ye will recall the door is straight up. If I fly you out of it, I’ll also have to fly ye to safety, and the risk is, if Lachlan has tampered with the ward, I may na be able to return.”
“I remember you saying something about that before.”
“And while I could toss ye through the door, unless there be someone on the other side to catch ye, I’m afraid ye’d fall to your death.”
She released a deep breath and turned back toward the fire. “I’d rather not be thrown into the void. Yes, I can see now where it’s not a viable plan.”
He hated the look on her face. Avery was practically a stranger to him, but already she’d proven talented enough to win employment in the castle, cunning enough to fool Lachlan, brave enough to find him in the dungeon, and mysterious enough to somehow free him from his cage. He shouldn’t forget beautiful. She was achingly beautiful and as stubborn as a mule when she wanted to be.
He drew the brush down the length of her hair once more. “What if we make a pact, ye and I? I need yer help, Avery. You’re the only one I can trust at the moment to help me right this wrong. If ye’ll stay and help me, I promise to take you home just as soon ma sword sets Lachlan’s head to roll.”
“And if we fail?”
“Well then, I reckon ye’ll be able to walk out on yer own. If I die, and make no mistake, he’ll have to kill me this time,