“Ungrateful female!”
Izzy frowned and Éibhear immediately calmed down.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She suddenly looked down at the ground.
“Izzy?”
A dragon’s claw came up through the sand and wrapped around Izzy’s legs. With one pull, she was dragged down, disappearing under the sand.
“Izzy!” Éibhear charged over to where she’d been standing. Her dog stood on the other side, accusing Éibhear with his eyes.
“It’s not my fault!” Éibhear argued. “It’s not!”
That damn dog didn’t seem to believe him and Éibhear wasn’t sure he did either.
Snarling, he faced the Sand Eater who’d taken Izzy. He stalked over to him, ready to wring the truth out of the dragon, but with a little wave, the bastard suddenly disappeared under the sand, too.
Éibhear roared. Even if he had to dig up the entire desert, he wouldn’t stop until—
That damn dog barked and ran past Éibhear. Following him, Éibhear watched Macsen head straight to a sand dune. As soon as he got to it, he began to dig. Éibhear walked around once, curled his claw into a fist and rammed it into the dune. Instead of finding more sand, he found nothing. An open space.
Using his tail, Éibhear picked up Macsen and held him tight before he pushed his way inside the dune and dove head-first into blackness.
Desert Land Sand dragons, or Sand Eaters, as they were called among other dragon breeds, were unique among their kind. Not because their natural weapon was, actually, sand. But because of their scales. Or, really, scale. Unlike most dragon breeds, Sand dragons didn’t have multiple scales covering their vulnerable flesh. Not really surprising when one realized they spent most of their life in a sand-covered land. One of the most brutal tortures endured by other dragons was to have their scales lifted and something sharp and painful placed beneath. So to be around sand all day, every day, would make life miserable for the Sand dragons if they had to keep ripping open their own scales to clean sand out from under them. Instead, their bodies had one smooth scale—like a shell. A shell that could split to create wings or encircle the dragon to protect him or her during a sandstorm.
It was all quite fascinating and intriguing, but it was also why three of the Mì-runach—the mightiest and most feared of the Dragon Queen’s warriors—were currently huddled together like frightened hatchlings. Because what else could they do?
Branwen the Awful stepped out of the cavern, her body covered in blood, and tossed the empty shell to the floor. The shell she’d systematically ripped off the back of one of the few Sand Eaters they’d bothered to capture rather than kill.
“He told me nothing,” she said.
Of course he hadn’t. The bastard had been too busy screaming.
Aidan glanced at his friends, but both Caswyn and Uther shook their heads. Aidan, however, was made of stronger stuff than that. He cleared his throat and asked, “Anything else that could help us? The queen will want to know—”
“I know. I know.” She snapped her talons. “Oh! There was something. I totally forgot with all that damn screaming.” She went back into the cavern. As one, the three mighty dragons leaned over and peeked inside, terrified at what they might witness but unable to help themselves.
They shouldn’t have looked.
Branwen slammed her claw into the back of the Sand Eater trying to crawl across the floor. Like any dragon without his shell, this one looked strange, all that blood unable to hide the fact that at the moment he was no better than a weak, defenseless human.
“Give us your claw,” she ordered.
“Kill me,” the Sand Eater begged. “Kill. Me.”
“Stop whining.” She pulled her claw from his back and stomped on his forearm. She raised her axe and brought it down, smoothly hacking off his front claw. Picking that up, she came back out of the cavern.
Without even saying a word, all three of them backed up. She didn’t seem to notice. Aidan had heard over the years that General Iseabail and Captain Branwen had spent more time than was good for them with the human queen, Annwyl, but it wasn’t until this moment that he realized the truth to that.
She held up the claw, the palm toward them.
“What is that?” Caswyn asked.
“Tattoo. A rune of some kind.”
“A rune?”
“Runes mean Magick,” Aidan explained. “And Magick means gods.”
Branwen nodded. “Exactly. We need to get this back to the queen.”
“You’ll take it?”
“No need. Rhiannon allows me to communicate directly with her like I do with me mum. And once we finish here, I’m going after Izzy. I don’t know what’s going on but . . .” Her words faded off and Aidan would at least admit to himself that he was afraid to ask her what she was thinking. He didn’t want to know what she was thinking. Ever.
“I understand,” he said quickly before his comrades could argue the point. “We’ll go with you.”
Branwen shrugged, headed back into the cavern. “Whatever.”
Once she disappeared inside, Uther grabbed Aidan around the throat.
“Have you lost your mind?”
“I’m not going anywhere with her,” Caswyn said in a desperate whisper.
“We’re Mì-runach,” Aidan choked out.
“That doesn’t mean we’re stupid.”
“No.” Aidan knocked Uther’s claw off. “But we are loyal to each other. And we’re not about to leave Éibhear alone with Izzy
and
her.”
“She’s his cousin. I’m sure he’ll be safe.”
“Loyalty,” Aidan reminded them. “Until death. Remember the commitment we made to the goddess of war and death, Eirianwen?”
“Weren’t we drunk at the time?”
“That’s not the point!”
A Sand Eater’s head bounced out of the cavern and across the tunnel floor.
“Sorry,” Branwen called out. “Lost me grip!”
“But that big blue bastard will owe us for this,” Aidan vowed. “He’ll owe us big.”
Chapter 28
Coughing and shaking her head, Izzy tried to get all the damn sand off her.
“Sorry about that.”
Izzy dragged her fingers through her hair, still trying to get all the sand out. “Where the hells am I?”
“Safe.”
“Would you
stop
saying that. It’s bloody annoying!” She lifted her head and was finally able to open her eyes.
Izzy gasped. “It’s beautiful.”
The dragon who’d taken her smiled. “I’m glad you like it.” He moved around the cavern of the underground cave. “Our ancestors built this place eons ago and it still holds strong.”
Standing in its center, Izzy could see that the cavern went on for miles, with tunnels and chambers shooting off from that.
What she really loved, though, was how open and wide it all was, with light coming not from the few torches attached to the walls here and there, but from the giant colored crystals scattered about.
The dragon seemed to notice that her gaze was focused on the crystals and he explained, “Leagues beneath is a lava river that feeds into the volcanic mountains in your Southlands. The light from that lava comes up through these crystals and illuminates these caverns.”
“It really is beautiful.”
“This is the true land of your people, Iseabail. It’s not surprising you’re drawn to what we have here.”
Another dragon came around Izzy and over to the one who’d taken her. “We should go,” he said low.
“Of course. Please,” he said to Izzy, “this way.”
She followed after the dragons for several minutes until they turned down a tunnel. They traveled a few more minutes until the tunnel stopped at a huge chasm. The other dragon wrapped his tail around her waist and plopped her on his back.
“Hey!”
He didn’t answer, simply took flight over that chasm and kept flying until they reached a well-populated area filled with Sand dragons. Izzy stared with her mouth open. She saw the same colors of dragons that she saw among her own kin, but again, the Sand dragons had that bronze overlay. To her eyes, they all seemed to sparkle, laughter and conversation adding to the moment.
Izzy knew she was dazzled, but she couldn’t help herself. They were all so beautiful.
As the two dragons moved through the crowd, the others grew silent and openly stared at Izzy. She realized that this was a throne room. They were taking her to meet with their king.
A small dais jutted from the rock wall and that’s where the dragon carrying Izzy stopped. Her kidnapper, however, kept walking until he’d stepped onto that dais and faced the court of dragons. That’s when everyone around Izzy kneeled, heads bowed. It was something even Rhiannon didn’t bother getting her subjects to do, the Southland dragons notoriously difficult about basic court etiquette. But these Sand dragons all kneeled without question . . . to Izzy’s kidnapper.
Chewing her lip, she looked up, shrugged.
Sorry
, she mouthed at him. When he winked back, Izzy felt a little relief knowing she hadn’t brought down her grandmother’s alliance with a few snotty words. But that feeling of relief was all too brief when she heard war cries from outside the chamber.
The guards immediately pulled their weapons, but the king held up his claw. “It’s all right. Allow him entry.”
“My lord?”
“Do as I instruct.”
Izzy tapped the shoulder of the dragon she rode. “You may want to put me down now.”
“You sure you’ll be all right?”
“Safer than you, I’m afraid.” The dragon lowered himself to the ground and Izzy easily slid off. Good thing, too, because Éibhear came in just then, two axes out, sand still covering his hair, looking quite homicidal. She definitely found it sexy.
Gods, I’m pathetic.
“Éibhear,” she called up to him, worried he’d start killing all these frightened royals. “I’m fine.”
“We leave now,” he ordered, silver eyes watching everyone.
“Don’t you want to know, Fire Breather, why I felt the need to take Princess Iseabail?”
Izzy smirked. “
Princess
Izzy. I like the sound of that.”
“When I called you princess, you nearly bit my head off,” Éibhear needlessly reminded her.
“Didn’t much like your tone when you said it, now did I?”
“It’s always something with you, isn’t it?”
“What’s that supposed to mean, you big bas—Macsen!” Izzy crouched down and opened her arms, Macsen diving into them, covering her with disgusting slobber and messy fur. She loved it.
“Of course,” Éibhear complained, “you go for that damn dog first.”
Eyes narrowing, Izzy accused, “You’re jealous.”
“Of a
dog
?”
“Of
my
dog. My loyal, dependable—”
“—never speaks so it can’t tell you when you’re being an idiot—”
“—dog!”
Izzy looked around and stood. “Where did everybody go?”
The cavern had cleared out, leaving Izzy, Éibhear, Macsen, and the Dragon King of the Desert Lands.
Izzy faced the desert royal. He stared at them, his forearms folded over his chest, one talon tapping.
“Sorry about that,” Izzy said.
“Why are you apologizing?” Éibhear demanded. “He kidnapped you.”
“He rescued me. There’s apparently a difference.”
King Heru VII of the Desert Lands watched Princess Iseabail and the youngest son of the Dragon Queen bicker. That seemed to be all they did. Bicker. Once he’d realized that they wouldn’t stop soon, he’d ordered his court cleared. The last thing he needed was for his people to know exactly how ridiculous the Southland royal family truly was. He understood the value of having Rhiannon the White as an ally but there were still many who questioned the decision made centuries ago by his father to align themselves with the Fire Breathers. And that concern had only grown when it was discovered that the Southlanders had joined forces with the Lightning dragons out of the Northlands. Barbarians. Rhiannon had aligned her people with barbarians.
“Are you two done?” he asked Iseabail and her—quote, unquote—uncle.
The royal brat eyed him. “Who the hell are you?”
“This is King Heru,” Iseabail introduced them, eyes widening in warning at the Blue.
“Centaur shit.”
“Éibhear!”
“Why would the king of the Desert Lands kidnap you?”
“What does
that
mean?”
The Fire Breather frowned. “What do you
think
it means?”
“You know exactly what I think it means. And I think you
know
that what I think it means is exactly what you’re meaning.”
“That made absolutely no sense.”
“Shut up.”
“But—”
“Just shut up.”
Heru put his claws to his head. “Suns above. Are you two like this all the time?”
The couple gazed at him and asked together, “What do you mean?”
Rhi looked up from her sketch to see her grandmother standing a few feet away. “Hello, Gran.”
“Hello, my dearest love. Do you have some time to talk?”
“Of course.” She put aside her sketch.
“Should I shift?” her grandmother asked.
“No need.” Rhi gazed up at her. “I love seeing you like this. You’re beautiful.”
Her grandmother stretched out, white wings extending from her back until they could lay flat, her tail reaching up and pulling fruits down from a nearby tree.
“I had to look for you, Rhi. You weren’t at dinner with your kin, nor in your room, nor outside the grounds.”
“Sorry. I just wasn’t in the mood to go to dinner tonight. I needed some time alone. That’s why I came here.”
Grandmum looked around. “Did you create this yourself?”
“Aye.”
“Do you bring your cousins here?”
“No.”
“Smart girl. You know, it took me centuries to be able to create my own sacred space out of thin air, Rhi. When did you start?”
“When I was six.”
“Well, let’s never discuss that again.” Her grandmother placed a book open in front of her. “Do you recognize this rune?”
“I do.”
“Do you know the god it belongs to?”
“I do.”
“Have you talked to him?”
Rhi nodded. “Aye.”
“Often?”
“No, no. Just once.” She leaned in and whispered, “I didn’t really like him.”
“Did you make him go away?”
“No. That was Talwyn. She
really
didn’t like him. I think the fact that he not only didn’t have eyes but no eye holes, really bothered her. She charged him with her sword. She was eight.”
Grandmum put her talons to her temples and closed her eyes.
“You all right, Grandmum?”
“Just a bit of a headache.”
“Oh.” Rhi adjusted the sky so that it wasn’t so vibrantly blue and instead was a soft and soothing pink. “Is that better?”
Grandmum opened her eyes and blinked up at the sky. “Did you just do that?”
“Uh-huh.”
“You know, love, you don’t seem to have a problem controlling all this. Yet you can’t seem to control other aspects of your power. I find that surprising.”
“I can control this because I’m not upset. Or angry. And I haven’t seen Talwyn and Talan all day, so I haven’t had to get in the middle of one of their fights.” She made her hands into fists. “I hate when they fight,” she growled out.
“They’re not fighting,” her grandmum soothed. “It’s just us.”
Rhi let out a breath and unclenched her hands. “Exactly.”
“Um . . . Rhi?”
“Yes?”
“Did Chramn—”
“Don’t say his name.”
“Does it have power?”
“No, it’s just ugly sounding.”
“Right. Okay. Well . . . that particular god’s rune. Do you know why anyone would tattoo it into their flesh?”
“Only those in his cult.”
“He has a cult?”
“When he came to me, I don’t think he did.”
“But he does now?”
“I sensed he was planning one.”
“
Planning
a cult?”
“Uh-huh.”
“And you know this because—”
“I remember him saying he wanted me as his chosen one and there would be thousands, perhaps millions worshipping my existence.”
“You’re his chosen one?”
“No. He wanted me
to be
his chosen one. I don’t think I was anything to him.”
“And you turned down the worship of millions?”
“Grandmum,” Rhi said, exasperated, “if you think Daddy’s bad now about calling me and Iz his perfect, perfect daughters. . . imagine if I had the worship of millions? Millions! And you know what would happen then? Uncle Fearghus and Uncle Gwenvael would have to kill him because Daddy wouldn’t stop going on about it. And with Uncle Éibhear rarely being here, he wouldn’t be able to stop them. Honestly, I did it for the best of the family.
“Besides,” she said in a whisper and pointing at her face, “he had no eye holes. I try not to judge, Grandmum, and people are tragically born with all sorts of problems every day. But he’s a god! Are you telling me he couldn’t get that fixed?” Rhi pressed her hand to her face, chewed on her lip a bit. “I’m a horrible person, aren’t I?”
Grandmum pressed her snout to the side of Rhi’s face. “I don’t know if I’ve ever told you this, Rhianwen, but you are truly worthy to be my granddaughter.”
“Aww, thanks, Grandmum.” Izzy reached up and hugged her grandmother’s snout. “I love you, too.”
“Now,” Grandmum said, pulling away, “we’ve got some work to do. You up for it?”
“Of course. What do you need?”
Grandmum looked around again at the space Rhi had made herself when she was six and tired of the twins’ constant bickering. After a moment, she smiled at Rhi, and said, “I think this will do.”