Grace walked back to the door. “He almost got Walter to change his name,” she said with a laugh. “Until Elizabeth and I sat Walter down and explained that he wouldn’t be turned into a toad if he didn’t.” She opened the door. “Walker. I like that. Walker Stone.” She smiled. “Maybe Walker MacKeage Stone?”

“Maybe. Though I’m leaning more toward Walker Coyote Stone,” Megan said, laughing at her mother’s puzzled look. “I’ll tell you why once I clear it with my future husband.”

After all, her first obligation was to Jack.

Chapter Twenty-four

J ack turned up the volume on the television, then returned to packing his gear as he listened to the news. The Great Discovery, which had happened three days ago, was still making the headlines. Canada certainly was on everyone’s map now.

And Cùram de Gairn was a lot more powerful than Jack had realized, not to mention a genius. There had been a small natural disaster, all right, but it hadn’t been crude oil that had bubbled to the surface. Instead the earthquake had spawned several frothing geysers of the purest, sweetest water ever discovered, from what was being referred to as the largest subterranean aquifer in the world. And the upside was the First Nation People living in that area were scrambling to bottle the clear liquid gold for international export.

Jack buckled his pack shut, then walked over and picked up his rifle. He opened and closed the breech to double-check that the weapon wasn’t loaded, then replaced the regular scope with a night-vision scope. He slipped the rifle into the sheath attached to his pack, then clicked the remote to turn off the television before heading into his bedroom to change.

He wasn’t proud that he’d been avoiding Megan for the last three days, as well as ignoring the three notes she’d left taped to his door asking him to dinner three nights in a row—including tonight. But until this dragon business was settled one way or another, he was in no frame of mind to deal with their relationship.

Assuming there was a relationship to salvage when he got back. Killing the dragon would likely drive the last nail into the coffin of his and Megan’s future, which meant he was about to condemn himself to weekend visits with his son.

Kenzie’s time was up and Jack hadn’t heard anything, though the man had kept his promise that there wouldn’t be any more break-ins. In fact, the police business had been downright slow lately. It might have something to do with the two-foot snowstorm two days ago, or maybe the small army of state police cruisers in town all week investigating Peter Trump’s death had put a damper on crime. Ethel certainly wasn’t complaining. And Simon was back on the job, sporting four stitches on his left cheekbone. He was all but strutting around, having discovered that a facial scar received in the line of duty was a total chick magnet.

Dressed in thin long johns and clothes that afforded him easy movement, Jack grabbed his gear and headed out to his snowmobile. He secured his pack to the rear of his sled, started it up, and raced across the cove toward Bear Mountain, veering north to land well away from Matt and Winter’s cabin.

It was maybe an hour shy of sunset, and Jack wanted to start his trek up the mountain while he still had some daylight left. He reached shore at a point of land where a crooked old cabin was tucked in the pines, and parked between it and an even more rickety shed. Settling his pack on his back, he slipped into his snowshoes, pulled out his rifle and loaded it, then found a trail heading up the mountain on the other side of the shed. The trail looked plenty wide enough for a snowcat to maneuver up. But no one had been here since the snowstorm; the only tracks he saw were from four-legged creatures.

So where, he wondered as he trudged up the mountain, would he choose to live if he were a dragon?

Megan heard the snowmobile start up and immediately ran to the lakeside window, where to her dismay she saw Jack heading onto the lake. She gasped when she noticed what looked like a rifle sticking out of his backpack; she ran out on her deck and uselessly shouted at him as he zoomed away.

“Dammit to hell, Jack,” she cried, watching helplessly as he shot across the cove toward where Talking Tom’s cabin stood empty. “How do you always know exactly where to go?” She rushed back inside and dialed Camry’s cell phone.

“You need to meet me at the resort’s garage right now,” she said when Camry picked up, not even giving her a chance to say hello. “We have to borrow the snowcat again and get up to the cave! Jack just left on his snowmobile in the direction of Bear Mountain, and he’s got a rifle with him. I’ll meet you there in ten minutes.”

“You think he’s hunting the dragon?”

“Kenzie’s week is up. Where else would Jack be going with a rifle?”

“But we’ll never get there in time, Meg. And it’s not five o’clock yet, so the garage will be full of workers. I can’t just waltz in and take one of the groomers. Besides, you said Jack took his snowmobile. He’ll be there before we can even get the snowcat started.”

“His sled does okay on the wind-packed lake, but it isn’t designed for the powdered snow he’ll find in the woods. He’s going to have to snowshoe up the mountain, and then he still has to find the cave. Just steal the damn thing when no one is looking. We have to get up to the cave now!”

“Okay, okay. But meet me where Matt’s road hits the main road instead of at the garage. I’ll grab the snowcat, head straight through town, and we’ll approach the cave from the opposite direction. If we’re lucky, we’ll get there before him.” There was a sudden pause. “Um…then what?”

“Then I guess I introduce Jack to William.”

The trail Jack was following broke into a high meadow just as the sun set over the mountains on the west side of Pine Lake. The first thing he noticed was the construction going on at the top of the meadow, where a cliff jutted more than a hundred feet above the trees. He also heard gushing water on the other side and knew it was Bear Brook making its way down to the lake.

Jack also felt a bracing energy humming through the air, and realized he was looking at the future home of Megan’s sister and brother-in-law. He remembered now that Megan had said Winter and Matt were living in the cabin by the lake only until their house was finished. Which looked to be a couple of years away at least, judging by the size of the foundation tucked against the cliff, as if they were going to make the sheer granite wall part of their home.

If he were a dragon, he wouldn’t live anywhere near a construction site that was bustling with workers all day. So where, Jack wondered as he scanned the mountaintop, would he want his lair to be? It should be high enough to see anything approaching, preferably a cave, or at least an outcropping of ledge for shelter, probably with a southern exposure.

Jack scanned the meadow again in the waning twilight, aware of the absence of tracks large enough to belong to the creature he and Megan had seen on the lake. But then, Kenzie had said the dragon was sick, so maybe the beast was already dead.

Hoping he was that lucky, Jack started up the northern tree line of the meadow. A half hour and a couple of miles later, he came to a groomed snowmobile trail. He stopped and took out his water bottle for a long drink while deciding in which direction to go.

Not wanting to risk meeting any snowmobilers who might wonder what he was doing up here at night carrying a rifle, Jack continued straight across the trail and plunged back into the woods before turning south, aiming toward another sheer cliff he could see in the distance.

He was closing in on it about an hour later when he stopped and went perfectly still. There was just the slightest of breezes, but it was enough to carry the faint scent of the slime he’d found at the break-ins. Since he was heading into the breeze, Jack knew he was going in the right direction.