“What are you talking about? You have two thousand first cousins alone to watch your back.”
“It is not two thousand. At least not the first cousins.”
“What about a mother who would destroy the world to protect you?”
“My mother would destroy the world for any reason.”
“One sister who’s been known to poison anyone who hurt your feelings.”
“She hasn’t done that in years. Not since I turned seventy winters.”
“Another sister who made one of your warrior uncles cry when he suggested that you were getting chubby.”
“Those were hurtful words. I didn’t eat for hours after he said that to me.”
“Brothers who have always had your back in combat. And a father who loved you enough to teach you to kill without compunction or care.”
“And your point?”
“My point is that you’ve been protected all your life. I don’t hold it against you. You grew up with a family that loved you and cared for you and ensured your safety while I, when barely born, was ruthlessly ripped from my mother’s arms and held captive until taken by three rough-and-ready soldiers and forced to travel from town to town, city to city, until I could be reunited with my mother years and years later—all that is not something I’d ever hold against you.”
“Yes. I see you not holding it against me. And by the way, you’ve mastered your mother’s guilting skills brilliantly.”
“I am not trying to guilt—”
“Guilt!”
“I’m done with this conversation.”
“Good.” Éibhear pulled his travel bag over his shoulders. “Let’s go then.”
“Éibhear, you’re not listening to me.”
“I often don’t, but it’s nothing personal.” He shrugged. “So . . . you ready to go?”
Izzy looked around the room. What she was looking for, he didn’t know. “All right,” she said, grabbing her own travel bag. “Let’s go!”
Éibhear’s eyes narrowed. She’d given up way too easily for Izzy, but she was already walking out of the chamber, so he had to follow.
They asked for and received extra food and water for their travels and a more accurate map of the lands. Once back topside, Éibhear said, “We’ll only have a few hours of travel before the suns come up, but that’s better than nothing.”
“Okay.”
Éibhear stripped off his clothes and shifted to his natural form. Once he shook out his wings, he lowered his body down and said, “Get on.”
Instead of coming to him, though, Izzy just stood there, staring. And staring. Until Éibhear knew exactly what she was trying to tell him without saying a word.
Éibhear shook his head, adamant. “No.”
“Then we should begin walking now.”
“That will take forever.”
“I won’t leave him. He was there when we needed him.”
“I’m not a horse, Izzy.”
“I know. I would never have asked Dai to carry Macsen.”
Gods, she was horrible. Just downright horrible. But some days she couldn’t help herself.
The dragon turned his head away. “I’ll not do it. I’ll not bring that dog anywhere.”
“All right.” Izzy picked up her travel bag, slinging it over her shoulder. “Come on, Macsen.” She started to walk. “We’ll meet you at Sefu in a few weeks or so, Éibhear.”
“You’ll never last out here if you can’t find a cave to stay in during the day. The suns will burn the skin from your back.”
“My people are from here.”
“They also travel by horse.”
“I’m sure I have some natural defense. But you can go.”
“You know I won’t leave you, Izzy.”
“Then you won’t leave us.”
“You can’t seriously expect me to bring that bloody dog.”
“I’ll not leave him, Éibhear. I’ll not leave my Macsen.”
“Your Mac—” He gritted his fangs together. “Fine.”
Izzy stopped. “Fine what?”
“I’ll bring . . . that.”
She faced him. “You promise not to throw him off your back when we’re in flight?”
“Off my back?”
“Well, you’re not bringing him in your claw.”
“Izzy—”
“We’re walking.” She started off again.
“All right! All right!” She heard him sigh. It did really take all the strength she’d built up over the years to stop herself from rolling on the ground with laughter. “I’ll take him.”
“And you promise not to throw him off your back?”
“I promise.”
“Or just leave him anywhere because that will really—”
“I’ll guard the little bastard with my life. Now can we just go? Please?”
“All right.” She headed back toward him, gesturing to her dog. “Take a break, Macsen.”
The dog took off and began to circle around Éibhear. While he did, Izzy grabbed hold of Éibhear’s hair and pulled herself onto his back. Once she was settled, she noticed that Macsen had slowed down until he was right by Éibhear’s back leg, his own leg lifted. She didn’t think the dragon had noticed until his long neck suddenly stretched down, his snout pushing into Macsen’s. “Piss on my leg and that’ll be the last thing you ever do with that penis.”
Slowly, Macsen lowered his leg, walked a few feet away, and pissed in the sand. When he was done, he came back and, with a mighty sigh, Éibhear used his tail to place the dog on his back right in front of Izzy.
With her hands holding onto Macsen’s hips, she got him to lie down. “We’re ready.”
Éibhear’s wings unfurled, but before he took off he said, “If you tell anyone about this—”
“Not a word. To anyone. Promise.”
“And does he promise?”
Izzy blinked. “You want the dog to promise?”
“You say he’s a dog. I don’t know what he is.”
“He’s a dog!”
“Promise!”
Because she knew Éibhear wouldn’t let this go, she tapped Macsen on his right side so that he barked. Once. It was something she’d taught him long ago for amusement. Who knew it would actually come in handy at some point?
“Thank you,” Éibhear muttered.
“You just thanked a dog.”
“So you say!” he accused.
Deciding this wasn’t the time to attempt to rationalize with a dragon, Izzy kept silent—for once—petted her dog, and enjoyed flying.
Chapter 31
Just before the two suns rose, Éibhear caught sight of a cave. It was half out and half buried in the sand near a dune. It seemed like the perfect place, especially since he didn’t know if they’d find another one before the suns were high in the sky.
He landed right outside the cave, lowering his body so Izzy could slip off and take that stupid dog with her.
“Wait here,” he told her. “I’ll check out the cave, make sure it’s safe.”
She didn’t reply and he didn’t wait for her to. She’d been completely uncommunicative since they’d left Heru’s court and Éibhear doubted that would change in the span of a few hours.
He made his way into the cave, worried it was as small as it seemed from the outside. But, thankfully, it was more of an underground cave and moving down a bit, he found some roomy caverns that would be perfect to sleep the day in. He was about to set off to explore a little more when he realized that Izzy was behind him, holding a lit torch.
“I thought I told you to wait.”
Izzy gave a light, carefree laugh. “I simply adore how you think I’d take your orders at any time or for any reason in this known universe. That just amuses me so much. Such a sense of humor you’ve gotten.”
“You couldn’t have simply said, ‘I don’t take orders from you.’”
“I could have.”
Sighing, Éibhear headed off in one direction and Izzy the other with her sword out. After about fifteen minutes, they met up back in the cavern.
“All clear,” she said, dropping her travel pack and stretching out her shoulders. “Not even a rat.”
“If dragons use these to rest in, vermin of any kind would be foolish to stay here. For some of us, rats are like little warm treats.”
“For some, but not for you?”
He couldn’t help but pull back his lips over his fangs. “No. There are some things I simply will not eat.”
Izzy got out her bedroll, spread it out on the ground, and sat down. She dug into her travel bag and took out some dried beef and her canteen of water.
Éibhear shifted to human and followed her example by pulling out his bedroll and spreading it out. By the time he sat down on it, he got a view of Izzy sharing her food with that damn dog.
“You’re giving him your dried beef?”
“I made sure to bring enough for him. Don’t worry. He’s my dog, I’ll take care of him.”
“We should have left him behind.”
“Oh, yes, I should leave my precious dog alone with strange dragons who still eat dog. Brilliant plan.” She looked up, frowned. “Why am I staring at your penis?”
“Because it mesmerizes you?”
“Can’t you put on leggings?”
“I could.” Then he smiled, which just seemed to piss her off more.
Her lip curled a bit, but she went back to feeding that damn dog rather than yelling at him.
Éibhear took out some of his own food and ate while he watched Izzy. She pretended to ignore him, but he didn’t buy it. Not anymore.
“How long have you had him?” he finally asked her about that damn dog.
“Three years now.”
“Do you ever bathe him?”
“Whenever I bathe in a lake or river, he bathes. He loves the water.”
“And yet he never seems very clean.”
“He loves the water, but he also loves mud, blood, shit, cow urine—”
“Wait. Specifically cow urine?”
“Don’t ask me why. It’s just a thing he has.”
“And you really don’t think he’s been spit up from the underworld?”
“No, I do not.”
“Because I’ve never seen this breed of dog before.”
“That’s meaningless. The world is filled with things neither of us have seen. Besides”—she lifted the dog’s head—“how can you look in these eyes and think anything about my Macsen is evil?”
“Because his one good eye is red?”
“What?” She lifted his head more so she could look at the dog without moving. “Oh. That. That’s just the reflection of the light from the torch.”
“If you need to believe that to get through the night.”