Only a dream…or perhaps a memory…

From The Celtic Knot: Suit of Cups

Lily was dreaming, she knew. She stood upon the bow of a great wooden ship, heading out to sea. The oars creaked, stroking together to propel them forward. The dragon bobbed up and down as large waves battered the ship, but she was not afraid. She was happy, wrapped from head to toe in furs and warm in spite of the frigid temperature. Her long unbound hair whipped around her face, her tresses a rich crimson.

Sensing the presence behind her, she smiled when tw...