“Of course. Come in.” She put a leather strip in her book to mark her place and put the book aside.
“What are you reading?” he asked.
“A history about wars in the Eastlands.”
“Interesting?”
“Very. But you didn’t come here about books, my love. What is it?”
Talan closed the door and walked into the room, sitting on the bed by Annwyl’s hip. “I have something to show you.”
“Then show me.”
The boy sighed before pulling a scroll out of the top of his boot and handing it to his mother.
“Someone sending you messages?” Annwyl asked, taking a look at the once-sealed document. Usually Annwyl was informed about any messages that came in for her offspring, but she’d heard nothing about this. Not even from Dagmar.
“Aye.”
“Instead of me reading it, just tell me, Talan.”
He cleared his throat and Annwyl realized this was the first time she’d ever seen her son look . . . uncomfortable. And, to be honest, knowing he had the ability to feel that emotion was surprisingly soothing to her.
“It’s all right, Talan. Go on.”
“Promise you won’t get mad?”
“No.”
Her direct answer made him laugh. “True, I shouldn’t ask the impossible.”
“I thought you’d have known that by now. So what is it? What’s in this scroll you think I should see—without your father here?”
“Far, far to the west, past the Sovereign Provinces, is a brotherhood of monks.”
“Monks?”
He shrugged. “Monks.”
“And what do the monks want?”
“They’ve offered me a place to be trained in Magicks involving nature. Powers almost completely pulled from the earth as opposed to the gods.” “You want to join a monastery?”
“Not permanently.”
Annwyl had to quickly scratch her head to stop herself from laughing. “Do they know that you don’t think of this as a permanent solution?”
“I don’t know what they know. I just know what I know. And I know I’ve learned all I can from Aunt Morfyd, Aunt Talaith, and Grandmum. But I’m not done learning.”
Annwyl glanced down at the scroll in her hand. “Can I ask you a question?”
“I know I can’t have sex while I’m there.”
“That wasn’t going to be my question, although your immediate response was quite telling. Best not have that same response around your father. Understand?”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Good. Now my question is this.... Are you and your sister leaving because of me?”
It was only a moment, but she saw the look of surprise on her son’s face. The fact that Annwyl knew, without anyone telling her, that Talwyn was also getting ready to leave blindsided him. But he quickly concealed his surprise and answered, “I promise, Mum, if we could, Talwyn and I would stay here forever. Just . . . loafing around and getting in fights.”
“But you can’t because . . .”
“You know why. This isn’t the end of it for us. We’re not meant to be nobles like Lord Pombray’s boy or even our uncles. But what you’ve been telling us from the beginning is that without knowledge, we can’t lead, we can’t fight, we can’t do anything but hope others protect us. And, Mum . . . we just don’t have that luxury anymore.”
Annwyl nodded. “My own words thrown back at me . . . and yet they were brilliant words.”
Talan grinned. “Just like your son.”
Annwyl took his hand. “Are you truly comfortable with your sister going off with the Kyvich?”
“No. Not because I think it will be bad for her. But
I
know she has no intention of staying. And when she’s ready to go, that will be a problem.”
“For her?”
“For them.”
“And this . . . monastery? This is what you want?”
“No. But this is what I need. I will admit, I almost turned it down. Almost walked away. But you always said to trust my instincts and my instincts tell me to do this. Now. Not later. Right now.” He kissed the back of her hand. “And because I know you’re thinking it, I only
look
like I’m not listening to you. But I hear every word. And thank you. For surviving. For doing what you’ve done. I know for a fact, no other female in this universe could have been
my
mother.”
Fighting tears, Annwyl wrapped her arms around her son’s massive and still-growing shoulders and hugged him tight. They stayed like that until the bedroom door opened again and she heard Fearghus’s voice.
“Remind me why I bother dealing with that old bastard. And don’t say it’s just because of blood ties.” Fearghus stopped and eyed his mate and son. “What did the boy do now?”
With his head resting on Annwyl’s shoulder, Talan replied, “Everything you’ve only dreamed about.”
Annwyl immediately caught Fearghus’s grasping hand and snapped, “Fearghus, no!”
“Just one punch to the head! Just one!”
Chapter 36
For a half an hour Izzy sat there and watched her grandmother—and the commander general of the city’s protection force—try to negotiate Izzy’s entrance into the Nolwenn temple. Her aunts and uncles, a few of her older cousins, and her grandfather stood with her and Éibhear, waiting as well. But as the suns moved overhead, the heat beginning to sear Izzy’s brain inside her skull, she began to get more and more annoyed.
She tried not to get annoyed. She tried to focus on other things. Like the beauty of the city. Sefu was a grand city with a major river that connected it to the ocean and several major Desert Land ports. Bustling and well-designed, Sefu boasted one of the largest libraries and a major theater.
Yet even thinking about those things only managed to irritate Izzy more because she wouldn’t be able to enjoy them. Not when she had things to do.
Maskini made her way down the long stairs.
“I’m sorry, Izzy,” she said when she was close enough so that she didn’t have to yell her failure. “They suggested that you come back tomorrow. They’re expecting one of their appointments to cancel and they say—Izzy? Where are you going?”
“All of you wait here.”
Taking the stairs two at a time, Izzy walked up to the temple doors. She pressed on them, but they were solid marble and bolted from inside.
“Izzy?” She looked over her shoulder at Éibhear. He’d followed her up the stairs and now watched her.
She stepped back and motioned to the doors. “Get them down.”
Éibhear glanced around. “You sure about this?”
“You have no idea how sure I am. Now do it.”
Éibhear shrugged and took a couple of steps down. He stripped his clothes off and handed them to Izzy. He motioned her farther away with a wave of his hand, and then he shifted, his natural powers even stronger when dragon.
Once in his dragonform, he took in a deep breath and unleashed a stream of flame at the doors. The thick marble buckled, the heat melting part of the door. But still it stood strong. With his flame still shooting straight, Éibhear ran forward and rammed his shoulder into the marble. The doors were torn off their hinges and flew inside, crashing into the walls and ceiling before landing several feet away.
Stepping back, Éibhear gestured to the now open doorway with a tilt of his head. Izzy placed his clothes down and walked up the stairs and into the temple. Éibhear glanced back at Izzy’s shocked family, their eyes wide, some with their mouths open. He winked at them and followed Izzy inside.
Izzy entered the Nolwenn temple. It was quite a beautiful place. And big. So big, Éibhear was able to follow her inside without shifting back to human.
Looking around at the marble statues and marble floors, she demanded, “Where’s Haldane?”
“So you’re Talaith’s daughter?” a young witch asked her.
“Haldane,” Izzy repeated as she walked up to the young witch.
“She has much to do, I’m afraid, and I don’t think she’ll be able to find the time to meet with the child of a traitor—”
Izzy cut off the witch’s words by laying her out with a right cross to the jaw. The witch dropped to the floor and Izzy stepped over her.
“I want to see my grandmother,” she said loudly, her voice echoing amongst all that marble. “And I want to see her now.”
As she walked down the long hallway, witches emerged from smaller rooms, looking at her, but saying nothing.
Finally, Izzy reached a huge doorway. She turned inside but after a few feet stopped, blinking several times.
Éibhear came in behind her and she heard his quick intake of breath.
“Gods,” she heard him whisper.
Even before Izzy had been reunited with her mother or known what she looked like, Rhydderch Hael would always tell Izzy that she greatly resembled her mother
and
father. She had her mother’s face but her father’s eyes and smile, he’d say. And, after one night with her birth father’s family, Izzy knew the truth of that just from what they all said about her. So she’d expected her grandmother to look quite a bit like Talaith. Yet she never thought she’d look like a mirror copy.
“So,” the witch said, “you’re the one that my daughter gave up all this for.” Dark brown eyes looked Izzy over. “You.” And she could hear the disappointment in the witch’s voice. “Well . . . your mother never was very smart.”
At more than four hundred years old, Haldane, Daughter of Elisa, showed no signs of age except for a few gray hairs at her temples.
It was, to say the least, disconcerting, for Izzy to see her “mother” standing there but know it was not her mother. The last time this had happened, her mother’s body had been taken over by Rhydderch Hael so that he could get into another god’s realm and kill her. But this witch standing on a dais, looking at Izzy as if she were completely meaningless, was simply not her mother. She wasn’t possessed with anything but a cold, calculating mind. A heartless bitch.
And Izzy wanted her dead.
“Oh,” the Talaith lookalike announced to the other witches slowly walking into the room. “She’s brought a dragon for us. Is he a gift?”
“I need to talk to you, witch.”
“After all these years? More than three decades and you come to my door now?”
“It’s not for me. It’s for my sister.”
“Right. The child that should not exist.”
“But she does exist.”
“And you fear her power.”
“I fear nothing about my sister. But I want what’s best for her.”
“So you’ll hand her over to me?”
“I want what’s best for her.”
The witch chuckled. “If you want me to care at all for this child, you should have brought her with you. You should have let me look in her eyes.”
“You can return with me to Garbhán Isle and you can look in her eyes to your heart’s content.”
“You want me to travel into foreign territory with”—she flicked her hand at Izzy—“
you
?”
“That is my plan.”
The witch pursed her lips, shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. However,” she added, smiling at Éibhear, “I’ll happily accept your gift.” Éibhear looked at Izzy.
“I think,” he began, “that you misunderstand my presence here, mistress. I am Éibhear the Contemptible, Son of—”
“I don’t care,” the witch cut in. “A gift is a gift.” That face that looked so much like Talaith’s turned cruel when she spit out, “We’ll have such wonderful use for your bones.”
One of the witches near him swung out her arm and something wrapped around Éibhear’s neck, yanking him back. He gripped at it, but he only felt his own scales. Yet he knew something had hold of him, was pulling him away from Izzy.
Another witch stepped forward and she swung her arm out. Something caught hold of his legs and yanked them out from under him. Éibhear ended up on his belly, slowly being dragged off somewhere.
Haldane looked at her granddaughter. “As for you,” she sneered and flicked her hand again. Izzy’s entire body lifted and flew back as if flung by the gods themselves.
Mum!
Éibhear called to his mother.
Mum! Izzy needs you!
Haldane looked at him. “Call to your mummy all you want, dragon. She’ll never hear you. She’ll never find what’s left of you.” She jerked her head toward the back of the big room. “Take him downstairs and get him ready. There’s a full moon tonight. I plan to take full advan—”
Haldane’s words were cut off as a giant piece of statue flipped across the hall and rammed into the witch’s chest, shoving her back and to the floor.
“Haldane!” one of the witches screamed out.
Izzy walked back into the room and she looked . . . very angry. But not only that, there was something else....
Éibhear squinted, looked closer. Something was sparking off Izzy’s body. And she was angry enough, he could easily believe it was coming simply from her rage. Yet he didn’t think so.
Another witch rushed to stand in front of a groaning Haldane, several others hurrying to their fallen leader’s side to help her. The witch raised her hand, pointed her finger. She began to chant words Éibhear didn’t understand, had never heard. And power roared up from her body and flew out of her hand, hitting Izzy right in the chest.
Izzy stopped, waved her hands and the energy that had slammed into her was tossed away. It reminded Éibhear of those times the Mì-runach would get drunk and play “war in the snow.” They’d toss giant balls of snow at each other and one would simply flick the ice and snow off his body before grabbing more snow and building another ball to retaliate with. That’s what Izzy was doing.
This Magick . . . it didn’t touch her. It didn’t hurt her. Not the way it was supposed to. Not the way it would hurt anyone else.
Instead, the Magick seemed to be doing something else to Izzy. It made her stronger. Éibhear didn’t think that strength would last, but it was giving her enough power to move forward. Guards that would give their lives to protect the Nolwenns suddenly appeared, running in from hidden doorways, weapons out and at the ready. They charged Izzy and she unsheathed her sword and axe. With both hands, she tore into those attacking guards. Blood and pieces of those men flew around the hall, splattering all that beautiful marble and the witches who maintained it.
Izzy cut her way through those guards and over to Éibhear. Dropping her weapons, she used her bare hands to reach down and pull off the bonds he’d been unable to see or feel. She released him and he got to his claws.
More guards ran in and Éibhear unleashed flames that burned the flesh from their bones and turned them to ash where they stood.
“
Enough!
” Haldane’s voice rang out. Three witches had helped her to her feet, their hands keeping her steady.
She eyed Izzy and finally said, “Your mother.”
Izzy stepped in front of Éibhear. “My mother what?”
“She did this. She protected you while you were still in the womb. From us. From other witches. When Magick strikes you, it does nothing but give more strength to those oversized muscles you have.” Haldane gave a soft laugh. “My child was always smarter than she pretended to be.”
“Because she knew you’d try to destroy me.”
“If I could have rung your neck before you took your first breath . . . I would have. And she knew it.”
“You could always try now. I’m right here.”
“That will be unnecessary,” another voice chimed in and all the witches fell to their knees—even Haldane. The older woman walked from behind Éibhear, smiled at him and Izzy. “Hello to you both.”
“Who are you?” Izzy demanded.
“The name is Elisa. I’m a Nolwenn Elder.” She leaned in and whispered to Izzy—although Éibhear could hear her well enough—“And your great grandmother.”
Izzy’s eyes grew wide. “You must be a million years old.”
“
Izzy.
”
She looked up at Éibhear. “What?”
Izzy could see some of Talaith in this witch’s face. Not as much as there was in Haldane’s, but she could see the resemblance. In her eyes, her cheekbones.
“Mum never mentioned you.”
“She had no reason to. I gave her little thought. I assumed that she, like her mother, like
my
mother, like I, would follow the path of the Nolwenn. What was there for me to do with her until she was older and had some real power?”
“Because she’s your blood? Because you are her grandmother?”
Elisa laughed. “You are truly your mother’s child.”
“And proud of it.”
“I know. I can see it. Feel it even.”
She motioned to the witches and guards filling the hall. “All of you . . . out.”
“My lady—” one of them began, but dark brown eyes unfaded by age locked on the witch and she immediately closed her mouth and bowed her head.
“Don’t make me say it again,” Elisa ordered. It took less than a minute for that chamber to clear out.
The witch faced them. “Tea?”
“Ooh,” Éibhear said. “I’d love a cuppa.”
Izzy spun around, her hands raised, her mouth open, top lip curled.
“What?” Éibhear demanded. “I like tea!”