“And?”
“And, it looks to me like you’ve got something more.”
“With Éibhear? Lord I-Can’t-Get-Too-Close?”
“He doesn’t seem to mind getting too close now. Doing it in front of your human kin, too. With all of them glaring at him. The fact he hasn’t run off screaming I find admirable.”
Izzy chuckled and sat down on the bed. “They probably don’t like him because he’s dragon.”
“They tolerate me well enough. Not an unkind word or terrified scream of panic yet.” Bran studied her friend. “You falling for him, Iz?”
Izzy snorted, shook her head, and said, “Come on, Bran. I fell for that idiot when I was sixteen. Now I’m in love with him!” Izzy grabbed a pillow and began to rip it into shreds, feathers flying all over the room. “Because apparently my life isn’t ridiculous enough!”
“Well,” Brannie reasoned, stopping to blow a white feather off her nose, “as long as you’re handling it well . . .”
When the knock came, Uther scrambled across the room—ignoring the fact that he was stepping on actual chests in the process—and snatched the door open.
One of Izzy’s aunts held a tray piled with food and drink. Although she looked ready to bolt at the sight of Uther’s overeager face.
“Is that for us?” he asked; then he smiled.
That didn’t seem to soothe her.
“Uh . . . thought you all might be hungry. And my father wanted to make sure you wouldn’t turn on us in the middle of the night because you hadn’t been fed enough.”
“Good plan!” Uther said, taking the tray from her.
Éibhear quickly stepped to the door and gave his warmest smile. “Thank you so much for this. We appreciate it. And you can tell your father he need have no fear of us.”
“Yeah.” She looked them over. “Right.”
Éibhear watched the woman walk away before he closed the door and rounded on his comrades. “Is there something wrong with all of you?” he demanded.
“Now that we have food . . . no.”
“You’re an idiot.” Éibhear stomped back across the room and, still fully clothed, dropped facedown onto the bed.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m trying to ease the discomfort of these people, but you lot aren’t helping.”
“Why bother?” Caswyn asked around a mouth full of food. “It’s not like we’re staying here forever.”
“They’re Izzy’s kin.”
“She seems to get along fine with them.”
“Yeah, but . . . I’m just saying . . .” Éibhear growled. “Forget it. I don’t know why I bloody bother.”
“I have no idea what you’re trying to tell us, but you sound particularly pathetic.”
“What he’s trying to say,” Aidan offered, “is that he wants Izzy’s human kin to like him. Unlike his own kin, who can barely stand the sight of him.”
“Thank you for that. That was very nice.”
“What do you care if they like you or not?” Uther asked.
“Because it matters.”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“By the gods of piss, blood, and death!” Aidan exploded. “Because he loves her!”
“Oh.” Uther stared at Éibhear. “Why didn’t you say that then?”
Éibhear pulled the linen bedsheet over his head and he was quite proud of himself for not tearing Uther’s head off when the idiot pushed, “Well . . . why didn’t you?”
Chapter 40
It was the blade sliding under her chin that woke Izzy up. Otherwise, she didn’t hear a thing.
With the blade resting against her neck, she slowly rolled onto her back. A Sand dragon in human form stood above her. She could tell by the hair and that bronze overlay. With the curved sword under her chin held in one hand, he raised the forefinger of the other and placed it against his lips.
It wouldn’t have mattered to Izzy. She’d risk a cut throat before she’d let someone drag her anywhere. But the Sand dragon wasn’t alone. He had another dragon, also in human form, with him, and that one held a sword over a snoring Brannie’s chest.
And that was something Izzy wouldn’t risk. So she slowly got up, that blade never far from her throat, and let the Sand dragons lead her out into the city.
Éibhear sat up and as soon as he was awake, the other Mì-runach woke up as well.
“What?” Aidan asked.
“Thought I heard something.” He slipped off the bed and eased the door open. He listened again, but this time Éibhear didn’t hear anything. Yet he knew what he was feeling. Threatened. He just didn’t know why.
Stepping out into the hallway, Éibhear listened again. Still nothing, but he decided to check it out. He eased down the hallway, heard a creak, and stopped. Holding his hand out, Aidan placed Éibhear’s short sword in his hand. With a nod, he proceeded forward. As he reached the turn into the next hallway, he readied his weapon before he strode around that corner—and ran right into Brannie.
“Gods.” He lowered the sword he’d almost skewered her with. “What the hells do you think you’re doing?”
“Looking for Izzy, and, Éibhear—”
But Éibhear didn’t wait for his cousin to finish, simply pushed past her and stalked down the hall to Izzy’s room. He threw the door open and went in.
Izzy was gone, but her weapons were still there. Izzy wouldn’t even go out to take a piss without a weapon. Suddenly Éibhear realized the true value of that damn dog that was still at the Imperial Guards dog kennels—Macsen would have alerted them all to any threat near Izzy.
Éibhear sniffed the air. He scented Izzy, Brannie, and . . .
“Éibhear?”
“Sand Eaters. They were here.” He turned and walked past Aidan. “Get everyone up. Now.”
Éibhear had been right. The Cult of Chramnesind was in the sewers but not living in the shit-covered tunnels. They’d built chambers directly off the tunnels, burrowing far into the center of the city. But Izzy still didn’t know what they could possibly want from her or why they hadn’t killed her yet.
Izzy was pulled into a chamber and her wrists bound behind her. With a hand against her back, she was shoved forward.
She could tell the zealots right away. She knew this even though some were dragon, others human, some neither of the two; some from the Desert Lands, others clearly from different territories. But what identified them as the most devoted to their god was the fact that the zealots had blood-and-dirt encrusted bindings around their heads, where their eyes had probably once been, and wore witch’s robes. Some carried wands or staffs.
Those with eyes still in their heads were the converts, she suspected. And, like the zealots, they came from a wide range of species and territories. Some on their knees in supplication, others standing guard. She didn’t know why because they didn’t seem to be paying much attention to her.
“So what do you want?” Izzy asked the room.
“Who is that?”
Izzy turned toward the voice coming from behind her.
“Vateria,” Izzy sneered.
“I asked a question,” Vateria snapped, ignoring Izzy. “Who is this?”
“The one you wanted. Daughter of Talaith.”
Vateria put her talons to her temples and rubbed them, sighing dramatically. “I said she was sixteen winters. Does she look like sixteen winters to you?”
“You said Daughter of Talaith,” the dragon insisted. “She’s Daughter of Talaith.”
“The older sister, you idiot.” She threw her claws into the air. “I am surrounded by stupidity!”
Vateria gestured at Izzy. “This bitch has no power. Her sister has the power. She’s the one I want.”
“Well, she’s not here. So what do you want us to do with this one?”
“Kill her.” She started to turn away, but then stopped. “Wait. Stop.”
“They hadn’t actually started.”
“Shut up, human.” She faced Izzy, looked her over. “Yes. Your sister is powerful. She’ll feel your pain. Know your suffering. She’ll come to protect you.”
The Sand dragon behind Izzy sighed deeply. “I guess you’re torturing this one too.”
Izzy had to chuckle. “You sound so bored.”
The She-dragon’s eyes narrowed. “You don’t fear me, do you, human?”
“I already know what you can do. What you’re willing to do. To your own family, if need be.”
Vateria leaned in to get a better look. “Why do I know your face?”
Izzy smirked. “Because I was there when my queen killed your lover—and you couldn’t stop her.”
The She-dragon’s back snapped straight, eyes fierce. “I remember you. Annwyl’s little pet whore who fought the ogres to distract me.”
“It worked, didn’t it?”
“Excellent point.”
Vateria turned away, her tail lashing out. It hit Izzy full on the side of the face and she immediately felt blood drip down her jaw to her chest, but she didn’t fall. She wouldn’t.
The She-dragon looked at Izzy over her shoulder, her eyes widening a bit. “My, my. You are strong.”
Izzy grinned. “You have no idea.”
Éibhear stalked behind the humans, allowing them to lead the way toward the sewers. Izzy’s kin had moved like lightning as soon as they’d heard she was gone, calling in the Imperial Guards and readying them for combat. Now they would take the information that they’d gotten from the scouts Maskini had sent out earlier and track down Izzy.
He refused to think beyond that. Of what might be happening to Izzy. He had to believe she’d be okay because he needed her to be okay.
The Mì-runach were with him, keeping their distance but still, in the most important sense, by his side. They would always be by his side, as he would always be Mì-runach. And knowing that kept him focused because he knew he wouldn’t have to fight alone to get Izzy back.
“You know, you might be going in the wrong direction.” Éibhear slowed down and stopped, slowly facing the owner of the voice. A male. A dragon male in human form. But not a Sand Eater. Nor a Southlander. In fact, Éibhear didn’t know what breed this dragon was. He couldn’t scent anything specific about him, but rather all. Although that didn’t make sense, did it?
“Really?” Éibhear asked.
“Hhhm. Just a thought really.”
“Do I know you?”
“Not that I’m aware.”
“Éibhear?” Aidan walked back toward him. “You all right?”
“Yeah. I’m fine.” He looked at the other dragon. “So you think I’m going in the wrong direction.”
“Just a thought.”
“So you said.”