Why could no one remember? Izzy was her only child and would remain her only child. The Nolwenn witches of Alsandair were only allowed one child by the gods. It was the price her ancestors had agreed to for their longevity and power.
“I don’t want to talk about this anymore,” she snapped at Briec, storming past him and out of their room.
“You can’t keep walking away from this conversation,” he said from behind her. “You will have to face this. And I’m thinking you’ll have to face this soon.”
“There is nothing to face. She can stay here, protect these borders. It was only seven months ago that we were under attack.”
“That was a completely different situation and you know it. And staying here is not what Izzy wants.”
Talaith cut through the Great Hall, pushing past some sad-faced, grey-cloaked traveler standing around looking confused and lost. Most times she’d question a stranger’s presence, but she was too annoyed to really notice and went straight outside, Briec still on her heels.
“She’s a child,” she reminded her mate for, perhaps, the ten-millionth time.
“She’s a warrior. Or she will be.”
“She’s a child.” Her child, dammit, but everyone kept forgetting that. “I don’t care how good she is with a sword or a spear or anything else she’s trained with. A real battle is very different from taking on someone wearing protective padding.”
“I know that. But she’ll never learn how to survive in a real battle without being in one. And where the hell are you going?”
“For three days your family has been down by the lake, and no one has properly greeted them. I told Fearghus I’d handle it since none of you could be—” Briec caught her arm and spun her around so fast she didn’t even finish her sentence.
“He did what?”
Before Talaith could tell her mate to get his damn hands off of her, Gwenvael walked up to them. “Ho, brother!”
“Shut up,” Briec snarled, immediately turning his attention back to her.
“And I’m so glad to be back, too!” Gwenvael went on cheerfully. “And it means so much everyone cares that I suffered such pain and nearly died while trying to protect our secrets.”
“We have no secrets, you idiot.”
Talaith yanked her arm away from Briec’s grip and went on her toes to kiss Gwenvael’s misleadingly sweet face. “Hello, handsome.”
“My sweet, sweet Talaith. Did you miss me?”
“Every day and night, my love.”
Gwenvael had grown on her as no other oversexed male ever had before. There was a lot of heart hidden behind so much idiocy.
“Morfyd’s waiting for you,” Briec snapped. “Now piss off.”
Talaith pinched Briec’s arm.
“Ow!”
“Be nice! And stop snarling and snapping at everyone. What exactly is wrong with you?”
“Don’t yell at me.”
“I’m not yelling at you! Trust me,” she yelled, “you’ll know when I’m yelling!”
She stalked off, Briec right behind her, both of them ignoring Gwenvael’s ominous warning: “I wouldn’t go down to the lake if I were you.”
“Talaith, slow down!”
“No. I’m done with this conversation, and you.”
She went through the first gate, pushing against the flow of foot traffic in the market, until she made it out the second gate and into the surrounding forests. She headed toward the biggest lake that was closest to Garbhán Isle. Fearghus had told her that was where she could find his family.
“I can handle this,” Briec demanded gruffly.
“No, Briec. You can’t. Gwenvael’s been gone near on two weeks in dangerous enemy territory, he’s covered in all sorts of scars, and still you couldn’t keep a civil tongue in that fat head of yours when speaking to him. So I will handle this, and you’ll piss off!”
Talaith stomped past the line of trees and out onto the clearing by the lake. The Cadwaladr Clan had made themselves quite at home. She’d never seen so many dragons lounging around in both human and dragon form. They all seemed to be talking at once. Or was it arguing? She really couldn’t tell since they seemed to be yelling everything. They reminded her of a tree filled with crows. Chatty, squawking crows.
“I’ll deal with them,” Briec said, trying to pass her.
“Oh, no.” She grabbed his arm and stepped in front of him to stop his progress, her back to the other dragons. “Fearghus specifically said you’re not to deal with them.”
His violet eyes narrowed. “When did you two become so damn chummy?”
“Stop barking at me!”
“I’ll bark at you all I want! And another thing … I … I …” His gaze had traveled past her—and up.
“What’s wrong?” She’d never seen such a blank expression on his face before. As if he didn’t know what to make of whatever it was he saw.
“Please,” he said calmly, too calmly, “for the love of all that’s holy, don’t turn around.”
That didn’t sound remotely good, so that’s exactly what Talaith did.
Her eyes searching, she looked at the crowd of dragons and saw nothing, but then she heard it. That giggle she’d known only a short time but had learned to love more than anything else in her world. Terrified of what she’d see, but knowing she had to see, Talaith raised her gaze to the open skies. Her mouth opened and she stared in shock as she watched her daughter—again her only daughter—charge across the back of some dragon Talaith had never seen before. And then to add to the horror, Izzy didn’t stop running. No, she simply kept going. Right over that dragon’s back and neck until she reached his head … and that’s when she dived right off.