Éibhear scratched his chin. “Do the sewers run under all the temples?”
“Of course.”
Izzy walked out on the balcony and stood by Éibhear. She stared up at him until he looked out over the darkening city. She followed his gaze and cringed. “Oh, no.”
“It makes sense.”
“I know.” She put her hands to her face and rubbed her forehead. “But we both know this can’t end well.”
Maskini gazed at her beloved son’s child. The grandchild she never thought she’d get to see, much less meet. And to find out that her son’s only child had become a beautiful, intelligent, and powerful warrior brought nothing but great pride and satisfaction to Maskini.
So Maskini gazed at her beautiful grandchild. She gazed and asked, “Have you lost your f**king mind?”
“That’s still up for debate.”
“You want me to unleash the Imperial Guard into the sewer system under all the temples? Because this fire-breathing lizard thinks—only thinks, mind you—that the Cult of Chramnesind might be somewhere down there? Don’t you think someone would have noticed them by now? Wandering around? A cult?”
“Maybe she’s right, Izzy,” the lizard said.
“I know I am!”
“No. I think Éibhear’s right,” Izzy pushed.
“How could you think he’s right?”
“Because it’s the perfect place for them.”
“How could the witches, magi, and sorcerers in these temples not know they have some cult leeching off their power?”
“Perhaps they’re part of the cult,” the lizard with gold hair suggested.
“No,” Izzy said. “They can’t afford pissing off the other gods by just choosing one.”
“Especially this Chramnesind,” Maskini’s granddaughter, Rachel, explained. She’d been the one to talk to the sisters at the library since she already had a good relationship with them. “The other gods hate him.”
“Bit of a prat?” Izzy asked.
“You could say. He wants to be the one god. The one we all bow down to.”
“Then for his acolytes to quietly use the power of other gods for their rituals would be quite the insult.”
“Plus the shit.”
They all looked at the brown-haired lizard. Uther, maybe?
“What?” Izzy asked.
“The shit.”
“What about it?”
“It makes sense they’d use the sewers to get around.”
Maskini glanced at Rachel. “Because of the shit?”
“He’s blind, yeah?” the brown-haired one went on. “Their god? And so are some of the acolytes. If they consider the sewers home . . . it must be easy to get to if they can smell it, especially since they can’t see it.” When they all just stared at him, he went on. “When you’re blind, you use your other senses. We have a few Mì-runach who’ve been blinded in battle. Not just lost one eye, but both. But just because they’re blind, don’t mean we can’t use ’em. We just give ’em some time to get used to being blind; then they come back in with us. They use their sense of smell and their hearing to get around. They’re bloody brilliant in battle.”
“You use the blind in battle?” Maskini demanded, unused to this sort of barbarianism in her own home.
“We don’t force ’em, do we, Éibhear? But if they want to fight, we let ’em fight. They’re damn good, too.”
“A Mì-runach would rather die in battle,” the blue-haired lizard explained, “than sit around a cave waiting for death. So missing limbs . . . missing eyes . . . doesn’t really stop a Mì-runach.”
After staring at the fire-breathing lizards for several long seconds, her mouth hanging open, Maskini faced her granddaughter. “Iseabail?”
She gave a small shrug. “It makes a bizarre kind of logic, doesn’t it?”
“You want us to check out the sewers?”
“It couldn’t hurt. Besides, Éibhear and the others are here for a reason.”
“And who told you that?”
“Rhydderch Hael.”
“Who’s that?”
“The father god of dragons.”
“The father god of dragons . . . talks to you?”
“Made her his champion,” the brown-haired lizard tossed in. “Didn’t he, Iz?”
“He did.”
“Why?”
“It’s a bit of a long story,” Izzy admitted. “Just know I really had no choice at the time.”
“And you trust this god?”
“Oh, gods, no. No, no, no,” she laughed. “Never!”
Maskini glanced at Rachel again, but the girl could only shrug.
Poor Izzy. Being raised among the barbarians in the Dark Plains had made her . . . uneven. Desert Landers were all about cold logic and precise planning. None of this insane guessing and ruminating and talking to gods. Who had time for all this?
“You don’t trust him, and yet you’re going to believe him on this?”
“Rhydderch Hael wants something. No. He needs something. Something he can’t do himself. So, yeah, I trust Éibhear and the Mì-runach on this. Besides, sneak attacks are what they do. And they do it well.”
“I guess if you’re sure . . .”
“It couldn’t hurt to look, Gran,” Rachel suggested. “We’ll call in a few of the Guard who are off for the night. Put the others on alert. By tomorrow we’ll have a good idea what’s in those sewers.”
Maskini looked over the group, then at Layla. Her daughter nodded. “It couldn’t hurt, Mum.”
“All right. We’ll do it.”
“Thank you . . . um . . .”
She saw the girl struggling with what to call her. And Maskini understood. The girl had a mighty loyalty in her, and it must be confusing to think about her family—or kin, as she liked to call them—back in Dark Plains. Although they weren’t blood, they’d helped raise her, loved her, taught her to care for herself in battle and life. They’d done what Maskini and her clan had been unable to do. For that alone Maskini would be eternally grateful.
“Maskini, child. Just call me Maskini.”
“Maskini. Thank you. Now, Bran and I can get started tonight and check out—”
“No.” The blue-haired dragon shook his head at Izzy.
“No, what?”
“You need sleep. We’ll get started tomorrow.”
“Éibhear—”
“After what happened between you and Haldane, you need your sleep.”
“I’m fine. I don’t need—”
The dragon put his obscenely large hand over Izzy’s face. Completely over her face.
“Hush, now. I’m doing what’s best for you.”
That seemed to irritate Izzy because she began swinging and trying to pry his hand off her face. Maskini glanced across the room at her husband. Zachariah didn’t believe this disturbingly large—when human; as dragon he was horrifyingly large—blue-haired “uncle” was any sort of proper uncle. But like her mother, Izzy seemed a bit clueless when it came to the true feelings of males.
The dragon pulled Izzy into his body, one arm around her waist, the other still over her face while Izzy continued to swing and curse behind that hand. “Poor Izzy is always so eager to work. I often have to remind her that she’s merely human and needs her rest.”
“It’s not a problem,” Maskini told him. “We can send my troops out tonight to do some recon around the city. We’ll have more information for you in the morning so you won’t have to waste any time.”
“Excellent! Hear that, Izzy? This is just what we need.”
Although Maskini couldn’t quite make out the words, she sensed that her granddaughter was not agreeing with the dragon.
“My lady—”
“General.”
“Right. Well, General, will you be able to fit my comrades and Branwen in your beautiful home for the night? Or should I find them accommodations in the city?”
“They can stay here.”
Rachel looked at her. “They can?”
“Of course. The three males can stay with you, dragon. And Branwen can stay with Izzy.”
She saw the immediate disappointment on the dragon’s face. “Oh. Branwen won’t get her own room?”
“We just don’t have the space. Sorry. But I’m sure the, uh, cousins would like to share a room together tonight. Eh, ladies?”
“Oh, yes, General,” the lady dragon crowed. “Thank you!”
Now those two, Branwen and the blue-haired dragon, were definitely related and viewed each other as such.
Izzy finally pulled herself from the dragon’s arms, spun around, and slapped at his chest and shoulders with her hands.
Rachel leaned in and whispered in Maskini’s ear, “I certainly hope she’s better in battle than this.”
“That makes two of us.”
“Maybe we shouldn’t wait. We should go looking tonight,” Izzy pushed.
Brannie pulled on a loose, white cotton shirt and soft cotton leggings. Her usual clothes for sleeping whenever humans were around.
“Maskini already sent out her troops. You gave them detailed instructions. I don’t know what you think we can do. We don’t even know this city.” Brannie looked over her shoulder. Izzy stood on the other side of the bed they’d be sharing, dressed in the same style as Brannie but her shirt was blue. “You’re anxious, Iz. Why?”
“Don’t know.”
Bran settled on the bed, her legs crossed. Izzy always got like this when she had to wait to go into battle. Like Annwyl, she wasn’t good with the waiting. Unlike Annwyl, however, Izzy could go ages without a good war to keep her busy. As long as she got in her daily training and spent time with her troops, she was fine. But when she knew a battle was imminent, Izzy hated the occasional delay that happened before she could dive in and start the killing. That’s when Brannie had to be careful because it was easy to start fights with her cousin.
“Don’t worry, Iz. We’ll get this cleaned up, get Elisa’s agreement about your sister, and take it from there.”
“Right. Of course.”
Bran knew her cousin had given up that fight much too easily, which made her think there might be something else going on. Something beyond all the doings of witches and sand.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Brannie demanded quietly, so as not to disturb the rest of the house, which had settled down for the evening.
“What are you talking about?”
“You. You’re anxious. Practically crawling the walls.”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Does what’s on your mind have really big hands and blue hair?”
“Let it go, Bran.”
“You f**ked him, right?”
“So? It’s not like he’s the first.”
“There’s f**king, Iz, and then there’s something more. Or at least that’s what I’ve been told.”