Mouth hanging open, Vigholf shook his head, and Meinhard muttered, “It can’t be.”
“Éibhear?” Ragnar asked again.
“Yeah. My sister?” he pushed.
“What?”
“Keita. Remember her? Gods, how long ago did she leave you?” he snapped, annoying Ragnar again. Rude whelp!
“She hasn’t left me, you worthless little sh—”
“Then where is she?”
Vigholf, his mouth still hanging open, pointed toward the mountains where they’d left Keita with a battalion of soldiers to protect her.
“Good.” Éibhear looked behind him. “Mì-runachs—with me.” He walked into the crowd of Northland soldiers, patting Rhona’s shoulder as he passed. Ragnar watched him for a long while until another Fire Breather dressed in the fashion of the Ice Lands stood in front of him. This one held out a blood-covered white dragon head to him. “You want this?”
Without thinking, Ragnar took the head of the one-time Spikes leader, wondering when the young leader had been killed, since less than a minute ago he’d been quite alive.
“You know the scariest part of all this?” Vigholf asked as he stepped aside to allow the three other Mì-runachs to follow Éibhear.
“What?”
“Since we last saw him, that blue bastard actually got bigger.”
Keita lay stretched out on the floor, a book on the topic of poisons in front of her. She went through each kind, trying to find which could best be used to poison the water supply of the Spikes. She longed to return to the warmth of her Southland home for a little holiday, but these constant battles with these ridiculous Ice Landers had made it impossible. Honestly, these Northerners! All they did was fight! Constantly! It was like living with her Cadwaladr kin all the time.
She turned another page. “Oooh,” she sighed, when she saw a root that might be perfect for what she needed. But before she could read further, she heard one of the soldiers who guarded her cavern give a warning cry, then the sounds of battle.
Keita quickly got to her claws and swiped up some Ved bark. If necessary, she could force it into a dragon’s mouth and end him quite quickly.
An Ice Land dragon stalked through the cavern entry.
“Keita,” he said, his voice indescribably low. She was shocked that he knew her name.
The dragon moved toward her, but she quickly raised her empty claw, halting him. “You’ll never take me alive!” Then she thought on that proclamation a bit and added, “All right. You can, of course, take me alive. But most importantly, try not to damage this face.” She lowered her head a bit and looked up through her lashes. “Or these beautiful fangs.” Then she smiled.
The dragon leaned back from her, a look of disgust on his face. At least, it looked like disgust. Hard to tell with all that blue hair in his face. Wait . . . shouldn’t his hair be whiter? Or silver? Or something that easily melded in with the snow-covered world of the Ice Lands?
“It’s me, you little idiot,” the invader said.
She crossed her forearms over her chest. “I can say with all honesty that I’ve never fucked an Ice Lander before. And I’m not about to start now!”
The invader closed his eyes, sighed long and deep. “It’s me . . . Éibhear.”
“Éibhear who?”
He threw down his blade. “Your brother!”
Keita’s arms slowly fell to her sides and her mouth opened as she stared at the dragon in front of her. Then she exploded into laughter that rocked the cave walls.
“How do you forget your own brother?”
“Don’t blame me!” Keita argued around her hysterical and, to be honest, quite annoying laughter. “How was I supposed to recognize you when you look like the lowest barbarian known to dragon or gods?”
“I’ve been in the Ice Lands for a decade, you snobby cow! I had to blend.”
“Well . . . blend you did.”
Disgusted, Éibhear turned to go. Sorry he’d ever come. But before he could take more than a step, Keita grabbed his forearm and caught hold.
“I’m sorry.” Although she was still laughing. “I’m sorry.” She stepped in front of him and wrapped her arms around his chest. “I’m so glad to see you!”
“Really? It was a bit hard to tell.”
“You have grown quite a bit, baby brother.” Her head fell back so she could look up at him. “I can’t even get my forearms around you! You’re gargantuan!”
“I’m not that big.”
“Hopefully you’ve finally stopped growing or you might cover the world, my handsome, majestic brother.”
“You’ll not fool me with your centaur-shit platitudes,” he muttered, even as he put his own forearms around her and hugged her tight. “No matter how sweet you may act. I know the truth about Keita the Viper.”
“Of course you do. You’re a prince of the mightiest dragons on earth. I’d expect no less.” She rested her head against his chest and sighed. “So . . . what brings you here?”
“Come to kill some cannibal dragon for the Northlanders, then I thought I’d go home for a bit. Since I haven’t been in a while.”
He felt his sister tense against him. “You’re going home? Now?”
“Aye.”
“Huh.” She pulled away, moved around him. “Does Mother know? Or Fearghus and the others?”
“No. Why?”
“Oh . . . well, I think that there’s some very important assignment they need you involved in.”
“What assignment?”
“Not sure of all the details, but I’m certain I can find out. But I think you’ll need to take care of that first before you return home.”
“Really?” Éibhear slowly turned so that he could keep his sister in sight.
“Aye. I’m sorry, love. I know how much you want to go home and see everyone. I’m sure this assignment will take no time at all.”
“How long, do you think?”
“Two . . . three weeks at most. Then you can be home and we can all spend some time together.”
“You’re lying, Keita.”
Keita gasped and spun around to face him. “Éibhear! How could you say something like that to me? Me?”
“Because I know when you’re lying. And you’re lying. There’s no assignment. If there was, my commander would have told me about it. So then my question becomes, why don’t you want me to go home? After ten bloody years?”
“Of course I want you to go home. Go! Ignore your duties. I’m sure everyone will be very happy to see you, little brother.”
Éibhear crossed his forearms over his chest and tapped one talon of his back claw. “Tell me, Keita”—and he knew he was practically begging because he was so damn annoyed—“tell me this has nothing to do with Izzy.”
“What? Of course not! That’s a ridiculous thing to even ask. What would Izzy have to do with anything?”
Again, he knew his sister was lying. This had everything to do with Izzy.
Little Izzy the Dangerous. At least that’s how he’d thought of her when he’d first met her. She’d only been sixteen then. Pretty but awkward. All long legs and gangly arms. And a child. Even worse than that—his niece. No. Not by blood. But his brother had taken Izzy’s mother as his mate and the entire family had accepted both mother and daughter as their own. Something that wouldn’t have been a problem if Izzy had just stayed that awkward, gangly child. But she hadn’t, had she? She’d kept growing, getting stronger and more beautiful nearly every day. Something that probably wouldn’t have been a problem if his kin had just left the whole thing alone.
But they hadn’t then, and it seemed they wouldn’t now.
“Izzy?” Ragnar said as he walked into the cavern, Meinhard and Vigholf behind him. “Is he going to pick her up instead of us?”
Keita flinched the slightest bit, but Éibhear saw it . . . and smirked.
“Oh, I’ll pick her up,” Éibhear quickly offered, not even knowing where the hells the woman might be and not remotely carin
g.
“No, you will not,” Keita said, panic in her voice.
Vigholf pointed outside the cavern. “What did you do to the guards, boy?”
“They got in my way,” Éibhear explained before refocusing on his sister. “And why wouldn’t I go to get my dear niece?”
“Because I said so.”
“Did you actually tell the guards who you are?” Vigholf continued on.
“Didn’t feel like it. And I don’t think ‘Because I said so’ is really a good enough reason for not letting me do you this favor.”
Keita’s eyes narrowed on Éibhear and Éibhear narrowed his right back.
“Maybe you could have just asked them to check with your sister before you attacked them,” Vigholf suggested.
Letting out a sigh, Éibhear yelled out, “Aidan! Are they still breathing?”
“Aye. They are.” The three Mì-runach entered the cavern, Aidan stopping to lean against the entrance wall with one shoulder. “And they still have all their parts. That’s pretty good for us.”
Éibhear looked at Vigholf. “Happy now?”
“Not particularly.”
“We will take care of my niece. You can just head home,” Keita insisted.
Éibhear couldn’t help but laugh a little. “Are you really trying to keep me away from her? After all this time?”
“It’s not just me, brother, and we’re doing it in Izzy’s best interest.”
“Oh, come on, Keita. That was a long time ago. And I apologized.”
“And when did you do that? You haven’t seen her in ten years!”
“Five years ago I wrote her a letter and apologized.”
“Uh . . .”
Éibhear looked over his shoulder at Aidan. “Uh . . . what?”
Caswyn looked at Aidan, and asked, “You didn’t tell him?”
“Tell me? Tell me what?”
“It never seemed the right time.”
“What never seemed the right time? What’s going on?”
Aidan stared at Éibhear and finally admitted, “We burned your letter.”
Keita gave a shocked laugh as Éibhear faced his comrades.
“You did what?”
“Don’t get mad. It was in your best interest.”
“How was burning my letter to Izzy in my best interest?”
“We could have let it be sent instead.”
“Females hate that,” Uther felt the need to explain. “A letter. If you can’t say it to her face, then you shouldn’t bother.”
“So we’ll go pick her up,” Aidan said, winking at Éibhear. “You can tell her to her face on the way to Garbhán Isle.”
Éibhear looked back at his sister. “Guess I’ll be picking up Izzy. So we can talk.”
Keita’s eyes crossed. “Why must you be sooooo difficult?”
“It’s in the bloodline.”
“That’s no longer a good enough excuse!”
Éibhear reached over and stroked his sister’s cheek. “I’m glad to see you’re well, sister.” He turned, headed toward the exit. “Where can I find Izzy?”
“You’ll find her in the Blathnat Forests fighting the ogres,” Ragnar replied.
Éibhear stopped, glanced back at the Northland Dragonlord. “Because she’ll ask . . . why am I taking Izzy back to Garbhán Isle?”
“I still say you shouldn’t be taking her—” Keita began to protest again, but Ragnar covered her snout with his claw and nodded at Éibhear.
“Have a good trip. We’ll see you at Garbhán Isle in a few days’ time.”
Not only did Éibhear realize that Ragnar didn’t answer his question, he also kind of knew that the Lightning wasn’t going to answer his question. No matter how many times he asked. So why bother? Instead, he headed off to track down Izzy and do what he thought he’d done five years ago.
Once Éibhear and his entourage of dangerous friends were gone, Keita slapped her mate’s claw off her snout and spun to face him. “Why did you do that?”
“I don’t see the problem, Keita.”
“Of course you don’t.” She swept her claw at the idiot Northland males. “None of you do!”
“Where’s Éibhear going?” Rhona demanded as she stalked into the cavern.
“These idiots—”
Vigholf frowned. “What do you mean ‘these idiots’?”
“—sent Éibhear to pick up Iseabail.”
Rhona stopped and faced Vigholf. “You did what?”
“It wasn’t me. It was Ragnar.”
Ragnar sighed in disgust. “Your weakness sickens me, brother.”
Vigholf shrugged. “I do what I have to in order to get through my day.”
“You lot,” Rhona said, sneering. “You Northlanders forget nothing.”
“Don’t know what you’re talking about, Rhona.”
“This is still about that cousin of yours missing his wing and horns, isn’t it?”
“That was a long time ago,” Vigholf stated. “Nothing we’d ever . . . cling to.”
“Although it would have been nice if he’d at least apologized.”
“You bastards,” Rhona sighed, shaking her head. “All of you . . . bastards.”
“I don’t know what you’re all talking about,” Keita snarled. “And I don’t care. I just can’t believe you were all so bloody stupid!”
“The boy’s no longer a hatchling, Keita,” Ragnar argued. “So I’m unclear why you’re acting like he is.”
“But Izzy—”
“Is definitely no longer a child. Not anymore. So stop trying to protect her from your brother.”
Keita sat back on her haunches, crossed her forearms over her chest, and challenged, “And what makes you think it’s Izzy we’re protecting?”
The three Northland males smirked and Ragnar said with so much false innocence, her back fangs ached. “Oh . . . was that your concern?”
“Told you, cousin,” Rhona sighed, heading toward several crates of ale. “Bastards. All of ’em.”
Chapter 3
As human, in their Ice Land fur capes that hid their faces and chain-mail leggings and shirts, the four Mì-runach stood on the ridge overlooking the valley caught between a half-ring of mountains and a vast forest where a battle raged on.
“I didn’t know we’d have to fight our way in,” Aidan complained. “I was hoping we’d swoop in and swoop out.”
“That won’t be happening today.”
A battle cry sounded from beside them and Uther turned, gutting the male running at them with his blade and tossing the body back several feet.
Éibhear sighed. “That was one of Annwyl’s men.”
“Oh.” Uther shrugged. “Sorry.”
“Annwyl’s troops are in red and silver. The enemies are ogres, which means their skin is in varying shades of green and they’re not human. So it shouldn’t be too hard to figure out.”
“Why are they fighting ogres?” Caswyn asked.
“Annwyl had to fight ogres once in a pit fight. Now she hates ogres.”
“Interesting woman, your human queen.”
Éibhear walked a bit until he found a path leading down the ridge and right into the battle. As they walked, not really engaging in the battle unless threatened, Aidan asked him, “So which one is the infamous Izzy?”
“Can’t you tell?”
“I can tell.” Caswyn stopped, pointed at a warrior woman riding on a black steed, her sword flashing as she gave orders to the men surrounding her.
Aidan laughed. “Not even close.”
“Why not? She looks like a proper soldier, leading a queen’s army into battle.”
“That’s the problem. Éibhear’s never been interested in anyone doing the ‘proper’ thing.”
“Then who?”
Aidan looked over the battle, then finally smiled and pointed. “Her.”
They all looked where he pointed, but all Éibhear could see was a group of ogres beating on something with their clubs. Then there was a scream an
d a shield came up from the center of those ogres, pushing them back. And from the midst of all that green flesh, she stood. Tall and proud. No longer the young girl he’d met so many years ago, nor the young soldier he’d walked away from.
Now she was something different. Scarred, bruised, and covered in blood, she shoved her long shield forward, knocking a few more ogres out of her way. From her left, another ogre swung at her. Izzy raised her arm, caught the club in her hand. Snarling, she yanked the weapon from the ogre and turned on him, kicking him in the gut. The shield was yanked from her, but that just freed her to grip the club in both hands. She swung it, knocking an ogre to the ground; then she brought the club up and over, bringing the spiked head of the weapon down onto the ogre’s face.
Screaming, she ripped the club out of the skull and took out another attacker. That’s when Caswyn looked at Éibhear. “Yeah. Aidan’s right. That’s gotta be her.”
Iseabail, Daughter of Talaith and Briec, Human Princess by Mating of the House of Gwalchmai fab Gwyar, and General of the Eighth, Fourteenth, and Twenty-sixth Legions of Annwyl the Bloody, Queen of Garbhán Isle and Dark Plains, ducked the flint axe swinging for her head and brought the club she held up between the legs of the ogre trying to kill her.
He squealed and dropped to his knees. Izzy tore the spiked club up and out of the ogre’s body, then brought it back down on his head, now that he was closer to her height.
It had been a bloody, ugly war for the last two months, but Izzy hoped an end was near because she believed she was finally getting her chance at the ogre leader. Once he was dead, the rest of his army would fall.
So she took down another ogre, ducked a flint axe aimed at her head, and crushed a kneecap with a well-placed kick, all in the hopes of finding that damn ogre leader.
“Iz!”
Izzy heard her dragon cousin’s screamed warning and was able to move out of the way in time to avoid the ogre attacking from behind, but the blade of his flint axe cut across her arm. The wound began to bleed almost immediately and she knew she’d have to get it sewn up. But she refused to worry about that now. Not with the ogre leader finally in her sights. She could see him about thirty feet away. So very close.