“Éibhear—”
Éibhear shook his head to silence Aidan. “So what’s the right direction?”
“Éibhear.”
“What?” he snapped.
Aidan shrugged a bit, Caswyn and Uther now standing behind him also looking concerned. “Who are you talking to?”
“I’m talking to—” Éibhear blinked, looked at his comrades. They stared at him like he’d lost his reason. Because they couldn’t see the other dragon, could they?
He faced the god, stared hard at him. “Where is she?” he asked flatly.
“They’ve always underestimated you, haven’t they? Big, sweet Éibhear with the heart of gold. They thought you’d be like that forever.”
“Where is she?”
“But Izzy . . . my little Izzy always had faith in you. Even when you were breaking her heart. Even when you were accusing her of all manner of beastly things. Tell me something, little blue dragon, when you find her body, will you feel guilty?”
Éibhear swallowed past what felt like definite panic. “Are you trying to tell me you won’t keep protecting her? That you don’t have plans for her?”
“Is that what you think? That I protect her? Do you have so little faith in my Izzy?”
“She’s not your anything. She’s never been yours. Izzy doesn’t belong to anyone.”
“Perhaps. Then again . . . if that’s true, why should I bother helping her?”
Chuckling, Rhydderch Hael turned to walk away.
Éibhear’s mind scrambled and he quickly called out, “What about your precious Vateria?”
“What about her?” the god asked, walking away, his long hair dragging in the sand-covered cobblestones.
“You still need me to find her, don’t you? The word the Nolwenn used was ‘rescue,’ I believe.”
The god stopped. “What about your poor Izzy?” he asked, not bothering to even look at Éibhear.
“Izzy can take care of herself.”
“What the hell are you doing?” Aidan snapped.
Éibhear raised his hand, silencing his friend.
“You still need me to do that, eh?” Éibhear pushed the god.
“Try where you started,” the god cryptically told him.
“What is going on?” Aidan asked.
Brannie ran toward them, her arms spread out from her body. “Oy! You lot? What are you doing?”
Éibhear looked at his cousin. “Go with the Guard into the tunnels.”
“And what are you going to do?”
“Just do as I say, Brannie. Protect them. There’ll be Sand Eaters all over that tunnel. Now go.”
Brannie let out a frustrated growl, spun around, and ran back toward the others.
“And what are we doing?” Aidan asked.
Éibhear looked in the direction the god had walked. “What we’re supposed to do.”
“Which is?”
“Rescue that bitch, Vateria.”
“But Izzy—”
“Isn’t our problem. I made a commitment to the Nolwenns.”
Caswyn stared at him. “Are you kidding?”
“No.”
Uther stepped closer to him. “You want to rescue Vateria over finding Iseabail?”
“I’m Mì-runach. I made a commit—”
“For the love of the gods, shut up about that!” Uther bellowed.
“Wait, wait.” Aidan stepped between them, faced Éibhear, studied him. “You sure about this, mate?”
“I’m positive.”
Aidan blew out a breath. “Then let’s go.”
“Yeah, but—”
“Stop asking questions,” Aidan barked at the others, “and let’s just move. Now.” He looked at Éibhear, nodded. “We’re with you, Éibhear. Mì-runach to death.”
“Uh-oh,” Vateria said. “You poor thing. You’re bleeding. It must hurt so.”
Izzy laughed. She couldn’t help it. And Vateria laughed with her, but Izzy knew there was no real humor in it.
“What’s so funny?” Vateria asked her.
“I was just thinking how strange it is.”
“How strange what is?”
Izzy leaned in a bit. “I’m supposed to be rescuing you.”
“Rescuing me? From what?”
“The crazed zealots.” Izzy glanced over at the eyeless ones. “Isn’t that right?”
“Darling girl,” Vateria said, slowly moving around Izzy. “Why would you need to rescue me from this? I’ll admit,” she went on. “It’s not what I’m used to. I do prefer the comforts of my homeland. But this . . . this will lead me back there. This will be my army. And after I claim what’s rightly mine in the Sovereign Provinces . . . I’ll be coming for your bitch queen. And she will know pain.”
“The woman’s been dead. Then brought back. And then went about raising children referred to as the Unholy Ones by many priests—and surviving said unholy children. So you really can’t believe that you are going to scare her. Do you?”
“And you’re not going to scare me.”
“But I already have. Because you know I’m right.”
“No. You’re not.”
“Then prove me wrong,” Izzy suggested. “Leave.”
“What?”
“Leave. Walk out. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”
“You don’t really think this will work, do you? Trying to convince me that—”
“You’re a prisoner? A prisoner in a very comfortable cell? Or a calf they’ve been fattening up for the kill.”
Determined now, Vateria headed toward the chamber exit. But a dragon stepped in front of her, blocking her way.
Vateria tried again, moving around the dragon. But another dragon cut her off.
“Move out of my way,” she ordered.
Izzy smirked. “But you’ve been so comfortable here.”
“Shut up!”
Vateria stormed back into the center of the chamber.
“You can’t keep me here,” she argued. “I’m Chramnesind’s chosen one.”
“Really?” Izzy pursed her lips. “Huh.”
“What does that mean?”
“It means why would Chramnesind make you his chosen one? It’s not like you’re truly loyal to him. Look at these others. Vateria, this lot gave up their eyes for him. The others kneel in supplication. And they’ve all given up their families and friends in honor of his blessings. And you . . . you want an army. To win back land you never had a right to. Oh, yes. You are so the chosen one.”
“This isn’t working.”
“Fine. It’s not working.”
“They’re just keeping me here for my own safety.”
“Fine. It’s for your safety.”
“Well, what other reason could they be keeping me for?”
Izzy shrugged. “Well, I’m sure we can safely rule out virgin sacrifice.”
“Bitch.”
“But they could be planning to rip you open, clean you out, and fill you up with someone or something else. It’s kind of what happened to my mother.”
“Fill me up with what, exactly?”
“Whatever’s behind that wall.”
Vateria looked over her shoulder. “There’s nothing behind that wall except . . . sewage.”
“Fine. There’s nothing behind that wall.”
“Stop doing that!”
“I’m just agreeing with you.”
“Well stop it!”
Vateria sat back on her haunches, front claws twisting together.
After nearly a minute, she pointed at the wall. “Show me,” she ordered the others.
“Lady Vateria—”
“Do it! Show me what’s behind that wall!”
One of the dragons looked at the zealots, nodded. A wand was raised and, slowly, the rock wall separated and slowly opened.
Stifling a scream, Vateria stumbled back.
Izzy leaned over to the dragon standing next to her and asked, “Are those tentacles?”
The Sand dragon looked at her . . . and smiled.
Chapter 41
“Are you sure about this?” Aidan asked him, the four of them staring up the stairs at the badly repaired doors Éibhear had just ripped open the previous day.
“I think so.”
“And I hope so. I’m not in the mood to suffer. Even for you.”
“What about when we get in there?” Caswyn asked. “Then what?”
“I don’t know,” Éibhear admitted. “We’ll figure it out as we go.”
Damn gods, he thought. Damn gods with their damn centaur shit. He hated them all, but he especially hated bloody Rhydderch Hael.
“I know. He can be a bit of a prat.”
Éibhear sighed and looked to his left. She stood there, tall and strong, brown of skin, arms covered in runes. But she was no mortal being. He could tell because of what should be the mortal wound on her neck. Her throat had been slashed from one side to the other and yet she was still . . . strong. Powerful. Breathing.
“It’s not his fault really. He has so many things on his mind. My focus is very clear. Always has been. But he’s involved in so many things. And after eons of dealing with those who don’t truly appreciate him, he just got a little . . .”
“Bitchy?”
“I was going to say cranky. And you’re no better.”
“Look, I don’t have time for—”
“Where the hells did you come from?” Aidan asked.
And that’s when Éibhear realized that his friends could see her, too. It was a relief to know he wasn’t actually going insane.
“I come from blood and death and good quality steel. Battle makes up my organs and war makes up my soul.”
“Uh . . .” Uther leaned in. “Are you sure you’re all right? You’ve got a bit of . . . uh . . . well . . . a scratch on your throat?”
She laughed. “Aye. A scratch. Don’t worry. This scratch will heal.”
Needing to know, Éibhear asked, “Why can they—”
“As warriors, when you leave this life, you’ll come to me. All the Mì-runach come to me. So I allow you to see me when I choose.”
“You’re Eirianwen,” Aidan gasped. “The goddess of war and death.”
“I thought you’d be a She-dragon,” Caswyn said. “But I don’t think you are.”
“That’s because I’m not.”
“What do you want?” Éibhear asked, unable to keep the tiredness out of his voice.
“My mate, he sometimes forgets that balance is necessary in this world. Without it, I don’t exist. But Chramnesind doesn’t want balance. It’s of no use to him, you see, because he wants it to all belong to him.”
“He’ll bring you war and death.”
“Only for a short time. A few decades perhaps. Maybe a century or two. But to me . . . centuries are like seconds in a short day. So I need you, Éibhear the Blue, to stop what’s to happen. What’s already begun.”