“I told you she’s not here, luv.”
“Then where is she, Ren?”
“I don’t know, but she’s been gone for a bit.”
“How do you know?”
“There’s a fine layer of dust over everything—and her overall presence has begun to fade from this place.” Keeping her back to Ren and pressing her hand to her stomach, Keita asked, “Is she dead?”
“I don’t know. But if she is, she didn’t die here.” Ren’s instincts were never wrong, and he never lied to Keita. If someone had killed her aunt, he’d know and tell her.
“Was she taken?”
“I don’t sense that. It’s clean here. Like she just left.” Keita faced him. “And went where?”
“I don’t know, but nothing says anything is wrong either.”
“Except my mother knowing Esyld’s here.”
“Your mother knows lots of things. I doubt she acts on a fifth of them.”
“But this is Esyld the Traitor.”
“Whom the queen sent a Lightning to retrieve.”
“Perhaps she was hoping Esyld wouldn’t survive the trip.”
“Then she would have sent your father’s kin, whose loyalty is unquestionable—but whose honor is a little shaky.”
“You think I’m worrying over nothing, don’t you?”
“You rarely worry, my friend. So when you do worry, it’s never over nothing. But I’m not sure what we can do at this point.”
“Track her down?”
“So your mother will definitely know where she is?”
He was right. As always.
“What do you suggest I do?”
“Go home.” When she sneered, he added, “You’ll never find out what your mother is up to if you don’t.”
“And you think she’ll tell me?”
“Doubtful. But your brothers will, if they know. Their mates. Your friends in court. Don’t act like you don’t know how to get information, my dear Lady Keita.”
Now smiling, Keita went up on her toes and draped her arms around Ren’s neck. “Why, my dear friend, are you suggesting I spy on my mother’s court?”
“I’m aghast you’d even suggest such a thing.” They laughed together until Ren gestured to the door. “Let’s be off.
The sooner we get back to Devenallt Mountain, the sooner we can be rid of your brother’s barbarian guard unit.”
The thought of that had Keita practically sprinting for the door.
As she stepped into Esyld’s house, she stopped in the doorway and studied the barbarian. He stood in the middle of her aunt’s house, nak*d—except for that travel bag he kept with him at all times—looking incredibly delicious in his extremely large and muscular human form and awfully innocent. Too innocent.
“What are you doing?” she asked him.
“Nothing.”
Slowly the Lightning’s gaze locked on hers, and for what felt like a lifetime, they stared at each other. He was lying—she knew he was lying—but she had no proof.
“Ready to go?” Ren asked.
“Yes,” she finally replied. “I’m ready.”
Ren walked out, the barbarian behind him, and, letting out a breath, Keita followed. But she stopped halfway through the house, her eyes quickly scanning the room. She felt that something was missing, but whether it was missing when they all first walked in or only after the Lightning had been alone in Esyld’s house, Keita didn’t know.
Unable to pinpoint anything she could accuse the warlord of—and terribly annoyed by that—she walked out and shifted back to her natural form. In silence, they returned to the others, only to find the two remaining barbarians punching at the rock wall where Ren had disappeared.
Ren turned away, his shoulders shaking, while Ragnar watched his kin, trying to figure out what they were doing. Keita raised her brows at her brother but Éibhear could only manage a helpless shrug.
And gods, she had at least several more days of this. Only the dread of seeing her mother outweighed being trapped with such distinct stupidity.
Chapter Six
They camped near the coast late that night. They stopped at a location that not only had the sea at their back but a river cutting through the land and a small lake nearby.
Vigholf and Meinhard went off to scout the area, ensuring they would all be safe for the next few hours, while the Blue gathered firewood and continued talking. Mostly to himself.
“You’re exhausted,” the foreigner said.
The comment was not directed at him, but Ragnar still looked over his shoulder and watched the Eastland dragon stroke his claw along the princess’s cheek. For the life of him, Ragnar didn’t understand the relationship these two had. Together? Not together? What?
“I am,” she said, stifling a yawn. “I tried to sleep in that horrid dungeon, but all that soft sobbing and begging the gods for help…honestly, how many times can a man chant, ‘Save me from the beast, dear gods in heaven, I repent all my ills if you’ll only save me from the beast’ before he stops? It’s not as if I had any intention of eating him. At least that dog had been bathed recently.” Her snout wrinkled a bit. “I can’t just eat anything, you know.”
“Excellent point.”
“But I must admit, I am hungry.”
“I’ll get us something!” the Blue offered, dropping the extra wood near a pit fire he’d already started with a blast of flame. He’d been in an intolerably good mood since his sister agreed to return with them.
Keita clapped her claws together. “Would you?” she asked so sweetly it made Ragnar’s back fangs ache. “I saw something with antlers over there.” She pointed, and her brother charged off.
Realizing that left him alone with the princess and her…whatever he was, Ragnar headed off toward the nearby beach. He had no desire or patience for more ridiculous conversation. Because wasn’t hearing the couple’s discussion about whether eating the tail of a dog was proper etiquette or not more than one dragon should be forced to take?
Ragnar walked to the sand’s edge and let the waves roll back and forth over his claws while he gazed off. When he felt calm and part of the earth, Ragnar closed his eyes and released his mind.
He searched the lines of Magick that kept all those who used such power connected. There were those who were so powerful, like the Dragon Queen, they could block at will the weaker witches and mages from ever sensing their presence. But Ragnar had strong skills and, due to the blessings and sacrifices of his mother, much power. He used his skills to skirt around Rhiannon so she could not sense him. Not easy because she was awake at this hour and calling power to her.
Once he successfully avoided the queen, Ragnar took his time and searched for Esyld. As Rhiannon had, it was through these lines that Ragnar had first discovered the queen’s sister, but this night there was nothing. He hated the thought that something had happened to Esyld. Hated even more that she might be doing something that would have her head removed right along with her front and back legs and her wings. These were dangerous times, and keeping out of trouble should be a task for everyone, but especially those who lived alone in the Outerplains, because the reigning Southland Dragon Queen thought of them as her enemy.
After some fruitless searching, Ragnar accepted the fact he wouldn’t find Esyld. At least not right now.
Disappointed, he released the energy that surrounded him back to the sea and opened his eyes. That’s when he saw the claw waving in front of his snout.
He closed his eyes again and asked, “What are you doing?”
“Oh. You’re back.”
“I never left.”
“Yes, but you weren’t quite here either.”
Ragnar opened his eyes. “Is there something you want, princess?”
“I have questions.”
“Can they not wait? It’s been a long day, and I’m tired.”
“Of course, you’re right. We can talk in the morning.” Ragnar watched her walk off, but he sensed she wouldn’t sleep if he didn’t answer her questions. Since they had some hard traveling coming up—none of which he planned to do with her relaxing on his back, filing her talons—he asked, “Is this about Esyld?”
She stopped, her tail scratching patterns in the sand. “If it is?”
“Then perhaps you can ask your questions quickly.” She looked at him over her shoulder. “How did you know about my aunt?”
Ragnar’s eyes nearly crossed. Why did he continue to expect more from her? But at least she seemed loyal to her aunt. Esyld would need friends when she was brought back to Dark Plains. Because Ragnar had no doubt that the queen would not give up until she found her sister. “Let me be clearer, princess. Ask your questions quickly and try not to make them inane.”
“Fine.” Keita returned to his side. “Have you f**ked her?” Ragnar cringed. “I see we’re sticking with inane.”
“Not if you’ve f**ked her. Then you’re betraying your lover.”
“She is not my lover.”
“Now?”
“Ever.”
The princess sat back on her haunches, eyes narrowing. “Why did my mother choose you?”
“I don’t know.”
“What has she planned for my aunt?”
“No idea.”
“What do you know?”
“A vast number of things. But what your mother is thinking is not one of them.”
An agitated talon tapped on the sand.
“Why didn’t you tell your mother you knew where your aunt was?” he asked.
“Because other than fleeing for her life after my mother choked the life from my grandmother—an escape most would consider wise—my aunt has done nothing to earn or keep the title of traitor.”
“Are you sure?”
“What does that mean?”
Ragnar lifted up the traveling bag that lay beside him and placed it in front of her. “Look inside.”
Using her tail, Keita gingerly opened the bag and lowered her head to peek inside.
Ragnar might normally be insulted by such actions, but he knew the truth. “Could you be more obvious about having brothers?”
“Among my kin, if you open a bag without checking first, you might find yourself suddenly face-to-face with a poisonous sea snake—and you know how much their bites sting.”
When nothing slithered or leaped out of the bag, she picked it up with her front claws and dug inside.
“I don’t think you have enough parchment in here. And yes, that’s sarcasm.” She paused, pulling a robe out of his bag. “A monk? Really?”
“An innocent nobleman’s daughter?” he asked in return. “Really?”
“Point made, warlord.” She shoved the robe back in the bag and continued to dig. “Ooooh, shiny.”
Ragnar watched the royal closely as she pulled the necklace out from the bottom of the bag and held it up. Her gaze moved from the necklace to Ragnar. “When you’re alone do you also wear a matching gown and pretty pink slippers to go with this?”