When the sentries had moved past and they felt they could go without being seen, they got to their feet and, keeping low, started up the mountain again. Where Annwyl was going, though, they still didn’t know. But she kept moving until she abruptly stopped and looked down at the ground.
“Oh, sh—” was all she managed before the earth beneath her feet opened up and swallowed Annwyl whole.
Chapter 25
Izzy caught hold of her queen’s arm but barely. Lying facedown on her belly, she held on to Annwyl with everything she had. Unfortunately she felt the ground beneath her begin to give.
“Shit,” she yipped, not wanting to alert any soldiers nearby but not exactly seeing a good ending to this situation. Especially when all she saw beneath Annwyl was nothing but blackness. A very deep-looking blackness. “Shit.”
“Don’t panic,” Annwyl had the nerve to order Izzy as she dangled there.
“I’ve got you,” Brannie whispered loudly while gripping Izzy’s legs. “I’ve got you!”
Izzy almost believed her cousin, too, until the land gave way beneath both of them and they were plunging into darkness, the three of them screaming until forearms they couldn’t see in all this black wrapped around Izzy and Annwyl and held them.
“Hold on,” Vigholf told them; then he was diving straight down. She didn’t know why, though, until she heard warning shouts from above and felt arrows shoot past their heads.
Sovereign soldiers. And they sounded really pissed.
But it was so dark. Could the Northlander even see? She hoped so. Because as fast as he was moving, if he hit a cave wall, her and Annwyl would be nothing but a flattened queen and her loyal, flat squire.
It felt like they traveled for miles, down and down, Vigholf moving with unerring skill, so Izzy was going to assume he could see just fine. After what felt like forever and a day, Vigholf landed. Someone unleashed flame and a row of torches roared to life, lighting up a ledge that overlooked another nasty drop.
Vigholf placed her and Annwyl on that ledge. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Fine. Yeah.” Izzy smiled a little. “Thanks for that.”
He nodded and winked at her.
A few moments later, Rhona appeared, dropping a still-human Brannie next to Izzy.
“You’re an idiot!” Rhona snapped at her cousin, and Izzy thought about punching Rhona in her snout. Gods, she was being a right bitch tonight.
“I forgot! No need to get nasty,” Brannie told her.
“How do you forget you have wings? Who forgets
that
?”
“I was taken by surprise.”
“You’d have never survived that drop if I hadn’t caught you, do you know that, cousin?”
“Well—”
“Because you wouldn’t have!” Rhona flew closer. She and Vigholf didn’t bother to land on the ledge, simply hovered near it. “I seriously hope you’re smarter in actual battle!”
“I am! It all just happened so fast!”
“It
always
happens fast! That’s the point!”
Brannie’s head dropped forward. “I’m sorry, Rhona.”
“I don’t want your apologies.” The tip of a talon lifted Brannie’s chin so they looked each other in the eye. “I want you to be careful. You can’t always count on one of us to catch your ass before you fall to your death, now can you?” And then Izzy understood that Rhona was just worried for her cousin. Izzy’s mum often yelled like that sometimes when she saw her eldest daughter leaping from dragon back to dragon back hundreds of feet above the earth.
“So no matter what form you’re in, always remember what you are. Understand?”
“Aye, I understand.”
“Good.” Rhona flew to Annwyl, but as she passed Izzy she seemed unable to stop her wings from whacking Izzy in the face.
Brannie winced and mouthed,
Sorry.
“I really hope this is where you wanted to be, Annwyl,” Rhona said, hovering near her.
“I think it is. It’s an underground shortcut to the Septima Mountains.”
“How do you know that?”
“It is. Trust me on this.”
How could Rhona trust the woman when she was convinced she was bat-shit insane?
“Move out,” Annwyl ordered, grabbing one of the torches to help light the way. Iseabail and Brannie followed, also grabbing torches, again without question, which was really starting to disturb Rhona. Gods, was she this bad? Was this what Vigholf was always talking about? Of course, she’d never had someone completely crazed as a commander, but she’d like to think that even as a soldier of Her Majesty’s Army, she’d at least question a clearly insane queen.
“Are you all right?” Vigholf asked her, brushing her hair out of her eyes. Now that it was no longer in braids, it had become unruly.
“I’m fine. Not happy, but fine.” She nudged him back a bit and urgently asked, “What are we going to do? She’s—” She touched the side of her head with her talon.
“But what if Annwyl’s right? What if this is the way to Gaius Domitus?”
“Then instead of dying in these caves, we can be killed by the Rebel King? None of these options make me happy, Vigholf.”
He moved in closer. “What would you have us do? Even if you were the type to put down an ailing queen—and we both know you’re not—there’s no way Iseabail or Branwen will let that happen.”
“But—”
“You of all soldier dragons should understand this, Rhona.”
“Aaargh! I knew you were going to throw that in my face.”
“And Branwen is loyal to Annwyl. You can see that your cousin will protect the queen with her life. Would you kill your own cousin, too?”
“Of course not.”
“Then we keep moving and hope Annwyl’s right about all this. Pray even. Perhaps the war gods will shine on us tonight.”
“And why would they start now?”
Austell the Red wasn’t surprised to find that Éibhear wasn’t in the tunnels. Although that was where Éibhear spent most of his time. He was a big, burly dragon, and he was really good at moving big, unmovable things. And he’d be moving up the ranks a lot faster than he was if he had his head on straight and wasn’t so busy wasting his time on Celyn and past history.
But try to tell him or Celyn that. Two of the most hardheaded dragons Austell knew. Yet they were good friends. Loyal . . . at least to him.
Honestly, such worry and bother over a female. A human one at that! They could
buy
a woman for all the trouble they’ve been through over some . . . well, to be blunt, some stray. In the big scheme of things, she was nothing more than a dog that wandered in from the cold. But that didn’t mean one had to make her a pet.
Austell finally found his friend in a small alcove, far away from all the activity of the bigger caverns. He sat down next to him.
“You all right?”
“No. They’re not saying it, Austell . . . but they don’t think Briec’s going to make it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know my brothers. The last time Fearghus looked like that, Annwyl . . . and now he looks like that again!”
“So what are you going to do, Éibhear? Sit here, worrying about something you can’t fix? Or get off your ass and help the rest of us lowly privates finish that bloody tunnel? The sooner we get that done, the sooner we can get your brother back to your mum. I bet she can fix him up right.”
“She couldn’t save Annwyl.”
Austell frowned. “But . . .
someone
saved her, right?”
“It’s a long and complicated story.” When Austell’s frown grew worse, Éibhear rushed to explain, “She’s not the undead!”
“All right, all right. No need to yell at me.”
Éibhear let out a breath. “Sorry. That was rude.”
And Austell almost laughed at him. To Éibhear that was rude. To the rest of the dragons in this world? It was nothing. Gods, would Éibhear go through his entire life being such a goody two-talons? How was he supposed to make it in the military when he was always so damn nice and accommodating? Unless, of course, you were Celyn. Then you got nothing from the royal but punched in the face and called all sorts of names Austell didn’t even realize that Éibhear knew.
Austell really wished that Cadwaladr cousin of Éibhear and Celyn was still around. The sergeant. She kept the pair of them in line, but now that she’d gone off somewhere, they were getting worse and worse by the hour. Those cute triplets kept trying to stop them, but they didn’t have the same terrifying demeanor as their sister.
Well . . . what could he do? Except for what he’d already been doing. Trying to keep the pair separated. And when they did have to work together, trying to keep them from fighting every five minutes.
Honestly, he wished they’d both just focus. Austell hated that tunnel. He hated being in such a small place. True, it wasn’t small by most beings’ standards, but it was to dragons. It would allow for them to make it into the Polycarp Mountains two at a time. Hopefully, once they were in, they would find their way to the Irons and destroy them from within. At least that was the plan, but Austell liked being outside. Or in a much larger cavern. Tunnels, like bridges, were just things that could collapse in his estimation.
“Come on. You need to get back to work.”
“Yeah, all right.”
Together they stood, but Austell stopped to put his claw on his friend’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m sure everything will work out with Briec. We get this tunnel done, kill all the Irons, and get him home. Easy and simple. We like easy and simple, right?
Right?
”
Éibhear rolled his eyes and recited their creed: “Only where women are concerned.”
Austell laughed and slapped the Blue on the back. “That’s the spirit! Now let’s get this done.”
Chapter 26
It felt like ages as they traveled through those tunnels, but Annwyl seemed to know where she was going and it had to be safer than cutting straight through—or even around—the Provinces. But still, Vigholf couldn’t help but be extra vigilant as they all moved along. It wasn’t like the Sovereign humans didn’t have their own dragons who could bring human soldiers down here just as he and Rhona had with Annwyl and the others.
But it did feel like they were alone.
At least it did until they reached the smallest caverns they’d found yet since they’d been in these caves. They weren’t tiny by any means, but they didn’t give him much room either. Instantly Vigholf thought of the wyvern. And because he was already so tense and ready for anything to come slithering along, Vigholf caught the wood spear that came shooting out of the darkness seconds before it tore through Rhona’s head.
Blinking her eyes wide, she gave him a quick nod. “Thanks.”
“I owed you one anyway.” He turned the large spear in his claws until it faced the other way. “You ready?” he asked.
“Aye. I’m ready.”
Needing to hear nothing else, Vigholf sped forward into a wide cavern, the spear gripped tight by his talons. Rhona stayed to the right of him, her own spear in one claw, her shield in the other.
He pulled his forearm back, the spear high, and was seconds from pitching the weapon when Annwyl yelled, “
Hold!
”
It was a command Vigholf and Rhona had been conditioned to respond to and they did so immediately, both of them using their wings to pull them back in midflight.
Annwyl walked forward, both swords in her hands. Izzy held a torch. It didn’t do much for lighting her queen’s way, but Annwyl still kept going.
Then Vigholf heard it. He’d heard it in battle so many times, he sometimes heard it in his sleep. The sound of a Fire Breather taking in a big gulp of air.
“
Annwyl!
” he bellowed. Yet the queen did nothing but shove her niece aside seconds before flames burst from the opposite dark cavern and covered the human female. Roaring with rage, Vigholf jerked forward, but Rhona grabbed his forearm, held him back.
“
What are you doing?
” he demanded.
“Look.”
“Why would I want to see—”
“Just
look
.”
He did—and he saw Annwyl. Not a burned-to-a-crisp Annwyl, but a perfectly untouched Annwyl. Even her clothes were fine. But Vigholf didn’t understand. That burst of flame could have wiped out an entire human battalion.
“The Dragon Queen,” Rhona murmured. “I’d heard she’d blessed Annwyl with this gift, but I’ve never seen it in action before. A dragon’s flame can never hurt her now.”
Annwyl shook her hair back and said, “Ready to talk? Or are we going to keep playing these games, Rebel King?”
And, from that dark cavern, the Rebel King stepped out. He was younger than Vigholf thought he would be. Much younger. Not even two hundred winters, Vigholf would guess. His scales the color of steel, his size that of any big Northlander dragon, his white horns curving around until the tips nearly touched his mouth. Long, steel-colored hair nearly reached the floor, different from the way most Irons wore it, and an eye patch covered the hole where his right eye should be. A scar that stretched from his forehead to where his snout began telling the tale of that loss. And the King wasn’t alone—a platoon of well-armed humans and dragons stood behind him, ready to defend him to their death.
“The Mad Bitch of Garbhán Isle,” the Rebel King growled. “Come to die?”
“No. But you won’t be the first one to try. To succeed even.” She grinned and even in the pale light of the torch Izzy still held as she returned to Annwyl’s side, they could all see the cocky and crazed smile of the royal. “But I’ll only come back anyway. . . .”
Rhona dropped to the ground behind Annwyl, and Vigholf behind Branwen and Iseabail. The Rebel King studied their small party. “Three dragons and a human girl? That’s all you bring to fight me?”
“I’m not here to fight you. I’m here to secure your assistance.”
“I know of your war, Southlander. I know your mate fights Thracius in Euphrasia and you fight Laudaricus in the Western Mountains.”
“You know of it, but you do nothing to help either of us. To end this war and take Thracius’s rule. But if you help me, you can be emperor of the Provinces. Or king. Or whatever you call yourself.”
“That does sound nice, doesn’t it? Tragically, though, not something I can do at the moment. But because I’m feeling benevolent, I’ll allow you and your friends to leave alive. Now go.”
Rhona felt a brief moment of elation, but it was quickly squashed when Annwyl re-sheathed her swords and followed the Rebel King into the dark cavern he’d just come out of. She pushed past his human and dragon soldiers, ignoring them all in her pursuit.
“Shit,” Vigholf muttered, watching Iseabail and Brannie follow right after their queen.
Sure, they could walk away. But they wouldn’t. It wasn’t in their nature. Their stupid, stupid nature. So they followed after the mad queen and the evil king.
“You can’t just walk away from this,” Annwyl told the dragon’s back.
“I can, human. And I am.”
“Why? Are you afraid of Thracius? Is that it? Are you weak?”
King Gaius’s tail slammed down right where Annwyl was standing. Thankfully, she was spry, managing to jump out of the way before it landed.
“I find you irritating, human. You don’t want to irritate me.”
“Why? What will you do? You won’t even fight your uncle. Because you’re weak.”
“You grab Izzy and Branwen,” Vigholf whispered. “I’ll grab the nut.”
The Rebel King spun around, Iseabail and Brannie ducking his long, spiked tail.
“Do you really think you can play this game with me, Queen?”
“I have nothing to lose at this point.”
“Don’t you?”
And that’s when human soldiers grabbed Iseabail, a dragon in human form grabbed Brannie, and Rhona and Vigholf were surrounded by well-armed dragons and humans who came at them from behind.
“If you don’t think I’ll kill them all, human, you’re sadly mis—”
“She’s hurting her, you know,” the queen said.
Confused, Vigholf glanced at Rhona, but all she could do was shrug, exasperated.
“Every day,” the queen went on. “Every day she hurts her more and more. And soon she will be so broken . . . it won’t matter if they let her go. Because she might as well be dead anyway.” Annwyl stepped forward, moving closer to a dragon who clearly didn’t like her. “And whose fault will that be, Gaius, the Rebel King? Whose fault?” She smiled, but it wasn’t one of her pleasant, slightly off ones. It was a mean smile from a very mean royal. “It’ll be yours because you’ve done nothing to help. You’ll have killed her because you’re sitting on your fat ass in these stupid caves doing
nothing
. Tell me, Iron, how will you live knowing all that when they send her crucified body back to you?”
It was a low rumble, like an oncoming earthquake or one of the volcanoes near her father’s home just before it erupted.
And gods, did the Rebel King erupt.
Roaring in rage and pain, he grabbed hold of a startled Annwyl and flung her to the ground. Vigholf dashed forward, barely catching her before her brains and body could be decimated against the cave floor. Then the king sucked in air and Rhona yelled, “Izzy! Move!”
The human girl dove behind her cousin seconds before they were hit with a blast of flame so mighty it shoved Rhona and Vigholf back, knocking Annwyl from his arms, and Brannie into Izzy, both young females squealing.
Annwyl flipped across the cave floor, landing facedown. The Rebel King marched forward, shifting as he did, his eye patch adjusting to his human size. Gaius Domitus snatched a spear out of one of the human soldiers’ hands and stalked over to the queen. Vigholf tried to stop him, but dragons held him back, and another two held Rhona, so that all they could do was watch.
King Gaius raised the spear above Annwyl as she lifted her head, flipping her hair back. “So that’s it then?” Annwyl asked, grinning. “You’re just going to let her die?”
“
Shut up!
”
“You’re going to let your own sister die at the claws of Vateria?” Annwyl got to her feet. “I’d heard you were smarter than that. Smart enough to know an opportunity when you see one.” Annwyl moved a bit closer. “Let me get her for you. Let me bring your sister back.”
The king’s body jerked a bit, his arms lowering. “What?”
“I’ll get her. I know
you
can’t. None of you can. They know who you are. They know your scent. They took her because keeping her controls you. But once Thracius is back—she dies. But they don’t know me. I can free her. I can bring your sister back to you.”
“You? You go into the heart of the Provinces, into the Overlord’s palace, and release my sister from their dungeons? You?” he said again.
“Why not me?”
“You can’t just waltz in there and save her.”
“What’s your alternative? To hope to see her on the other side when your time comes?”
His hands tightened on the spear. “And if you fail, human?”
“And if I don’t? As it is, if you don’t get her out now—you might as well go ahead and build her funeral pyre. Because
you
killed her.”
Rhona only had a moment to roll her eyes, knowing how she would respond to someone saying that to her about her siblings, before the king rammed the spear at Annwyl. But the queen, a true warrior, caught hold of the spear’s shaft with her left hand, yanked the king’s human form close, and punched him twice in the face with her right. Then she unsheathed one of her swords and had it against his throat before he had a chance to register pain from her punching him, or his soldiers even had a chance to move. Clearly Annwyl’s madness only affected her mind, not her battle skills.
“I’ve been fighting dragons like you for years,” Annwyl told the king. “Warriors that’d be using the bones of you and yours for toothpicks by now. So think hard and long on what you want to do, Rebel King. Leave your sister to die? Or let me get her out and give yourself a chance at Thracius’s throne?”
She released the spear and stepped away from the king. “But choose quickly. Because time is running out for those I love and for the one you love.”
The Rebel King stared at Annwyl for a very long time until he finally stated the obvious. “You truly are as insane as everyone says.”
“I prefer the term persistent. It has a nicer ring, don’t you think?” Then she grinned and everyone in the cavern took a cautious step back.