“No. It’ll be good to have Aidan along with us if he truly knows his way around the Desert Lands.”
“He does. Even knows where to find the Nolwenns.”
“And the Mì-runach as protection? Could a general ask for more?”
“I guess not.”
“Then that’s fine. Let’s get going.”
She turned and he took a quick step back, but she merely grabbed the reins of her horse and his and headed out of the stables.
Beginning to panic, Éibhear looked around, expecting to see an arrow flying at his head or an assassin with a poisoned knife hiding in a corner. But there was nothing.
Shaking his head, muttering to himself about being foolish, he followed after Izzy. He’d just stepped outside the stables when a smelly, drooling, snarling mass of dirty, disgusting fur collided with his head, knocking him to the ground.
Izzy watched her dog express exactly what she was feeling without her having to do anything. Say anything. Dagmar had to give orders to her perfectly bred dogs. But that wasn’t necessary with Macsen.
Éibhear grabbed hold of both sides of Macsen’s neck, holding him tight, but the dog kept snapping, kept trying to rip his face off.
“Call him off!” Éibhear yelled. “Or I’m setting the bastard on fire!”
Izzy gave a short whistle and Macsen pulled back. Éibhear released him and the dog jumped off his chest and walked around him, snapping at his head once more before going to Izzy’s side and sitting at her feet.
“See?” Izzy said, pointing at the dog. “That’s loyalty. Loyalty and he listens to me. I find that invaluable.”
Éibhear got to his big feet, brushing dirt off his leggings and fur cape. “He’s a dog, Izzy.”
“Yes. Just a dog. And yet he still manages to be better than you.”
She mounted Dai, patting his big neck once she was seated. “I won’t try to stop you from coming with me, Éibhear. But if you get in my way, I’ll crush you and the Mì-runach scum with you. Clear?”
She didn’t wait for him to answer, simply turned her horse around and, with Macsen running by Dai’s side, she went off to the pub where Celyn had taken Brannie for a little late-night drink.
Éibhear went out of his way not to look at his comrades, focusing on Izzy riding away from them. Besides, he didn’t need to see his fellow dragons’ faces to know exactly what they were thinking.
“You f**ked her, didn’t you?” Aidan demanded.
Éibhear shrugged, still not looking at them. “Maybe.”
“Do you know how I can tell? Because she hates you.”
“It’s not hate. It’s confusion. I’ve overwhelmed her with my—”“Stupidity?” Aidan shook his head. “When your brothers find out—”
“Let’s deal with one nightmare scenario at a time, shall we?” Éibhear snapped.
“Are we really going to do this?” Aidan asked him. “Because from what I can tell she hates you; her mother just gave us dire warnings; and you had what I can only term as a pathetic, love-sick look on your face even while she was threatening you and all of us.”
“Was that what I was looking at?” Uther pulled back his top lip in disgust. “I find that disturbing.”
Fed up and unwilling to talk about any of this, Éibhear strode to his horse. “Mount up, Mì-runach. We ride!”
Chapter 25
Brannie opened her eyes and briefly wondered when she’d gotten on her horse. And why she’d gotten on her horse. And why she seemed to be riding somewhere on her horse.
She blinked, trying to clear her vision. She was so tired and a little sick, the motion of her horse not exactly helping with that.
When her vision was a little more clear, Brannie looked around. Izzy was riding ahead of her, Éibhear behind. Both seemed to be pouting.
Surrounding Brannie were the other Mì-runach.
“Where are we going?” she asked.
“To the Desert Lands,” Aidan said, sounding annoyingly chipper this early morning. And loud. Why was he yelling?
“Why are we going to the Desert Lands?”
“To face witches and possibly kill a treacherous Iron dragoness, unless this is all an elaborate trap and they kill us first, of course.”
Brannie let out a long sigh. “I kind of knew I’d regret drinking with my brothers last night—I just had no idea how much.”
First meal was a mostly silent affair, with everyone concerned about . . . well, about everything.
Even Dagmar, who tried not to worry about little things since Talaith and Morfyd were so good at that, was concerned. Concerned that Annwyl would be plunging them into a war with the Kyvich. Although now that she thought about it . . . that wasn’t really a little thing, was it?
Rhi charged down the stairs, dressed in a pretty gown, a fur cape around her shoulders and her bag with all her art supplies over her shoulder.
“Good morn, all!” She reached around her mother, taking a loaf of bread. She tore off a piece, shoved it in her mouth, and cheered, “I’m off to draw!”
“Stay near the castle grounds,” Briec ordered. “And away from the Kyvich.”
“I will, Daddy.” She kissed him on the forehead and walked out.
Waiting a few extra seconds, Dagmar nodded at one of the female guards and she followed Rhi out.
Unbeknownst to Rhi, Dagmar always had the girl followed once she was outside the castle gates. She’d tried to do the same with the twins, but the guards kept losing sight of them. Although it took some time for Dagmar to find out about that because the guards had always been afraid to tell her. So, instead, they’d finally told Annwyl and she told Dagmar. She tried not to think too much about the fact that the guards had been less worried about telling Annwyl the Bloody they’d lost track of her children than of telling Dagmar.