Chapter
25
Izzy caught hold of her queen’s arm but
barely. Lying facedown on her belly, she held on to Annwyl with
everything she had. Unfortunately she felt the ground beneath her
begin to give.
“Shit,” she yipped, not wanting to
alert any soldiers nearby but not exactly seeing a good ending to
this situation. Especially when all she saw beneath Annwyl was
nothing but blackness. A very deep-looking blackness.
“Shit.”
“Don’t panic,” Annwyl had the nerve to
order Izzy as she dangled there.
“I’ve got you,” Brannie whispered
loudly while gripping Izzy’s legs. “I’ve got you!”
Izzy almost believed her cousin, too,
until the land gave way beneath both of them and they were plunging
into darkness, the three of them screaming until forearms they
couldn’t see in all this black wrapped around Izzy and Annwyl and
held them.
“Hold on,” Vigholf told them; then he
was diving straight down. She didn’t know why, though, until she
heard warning shouts from above and felt arrows shoot past their
heads.
Sovereign soldiers. And they sounded
really pissed.
But it was so dark. Could the
Northlander even see? She hoped so. Because as fast as he was
moving, if he hit a cave wall, her and Annwyl would be nothing but
a flattened queen and her loyal, flat squire.
It felt like they traveled for miles,
down and down, Vigholf moving with unerring skill, so Izzy was
going to assume he could see just fine. After what felt like
forever and a day, Vigholf landed. Someone unleashed flame and a
row of torches roared to life, lighting up a ledge that overlooked
another nasty drop.
Vigholf placed her and Annwyl on that
ledge. “Are you all right?” he asked.
“Fine. Yeah.” Izzy smiled a little.
“Thanks for that.”
He nodded and winked at
her.
A few moments later, Rhona appeared,
dropping a still-human Brannie next to Izzy.
“You’re an idiot!” Rhona snapped at her
cousin, and Izzy thought about punching Rhona in her snout. Gods,
she was being a right bitch tonight.
“I forgot! No need to get nasty,”
Brannie told her.
“How do you forget you have wings? Who
forgets that?”
“I was taken by surprise.”
“You’d have never survived that drop if
I hadn’t caught you, do you know that, cousin?”
“Well—”
“Because you wouldn’t have!” Rhona flew
closer. She and Vigholf didn’t bother to land on the ledge, simply
hovered near it. “I seriously hope you’re smarter in actual
battle!”
“I am! It all just happened so
fast!”
“It always happens fast! That’s the
point!”
Brannie’s head dropped forward. “I’m
sorry, Rhona.”
“I don’t want your apologies.” The tip
of a talon lifted Brannie’s chin so they looked each other in the
eye. “I want you to be careful. You can’t always count on one of us
to catch your ass before you fall to your death, now can you?” And
then Izzy understood that Rhona was just worried for her cousin.
Izzy’s mum often yelled like that sometimes when she saw her eldest
daughter leaping from dragon back to dragon back hundreds of feet
above the earth.
“So no matter what form you’re in,
always remember what you are. Understand?”
“Aye, I understand.”
“Good.” Rhona flew to Annwyl, but as
she passed Izzy she seemed unable to stop her wings from whacking
Izzy in the face.
Brannie winced and mouthed,
Sorry.
“I really hope this is where you wanted
to be, Annwyl,” Rhona said, hovering near her.
“I think it is. It’s an underground
shortcut to the Septima Mountains.”
“How do you know that?”
“It is. Trust me on this.”
How could Rhona trust the woman when
she was convinced she was bat-shit insane?
“Move out,” Annwyl ordered, grabbing
one of the torches to help light the way. Iseabail and Brannie
followed, also grabbing torches, again without question, which was
really starting to disturb Rhona. Gods, was she this bad? Was this
what Vigholf was always talking about? Of course, she’d never had
someone completely crazed as a commander, but she’d like to think
that even as a soldier of Her Majesty’s Army, she’d at least
question a clearly insane queen.
“Are you all right?” Vigholf asked her,
brushing her hair out of her eyes. Now that it was no longer in
braids, it had become unruly.
“I’m fine. Not happy, but fine.” She
nudged him back a bit and urgently asked, “What are we going to do?
She’s—” She touched the side of her head with her
talon.
“But what if Annwyl’s right? What if
this is the way to Gaius Domitus?”
“Then instead of dying in these caves,
we can be killed by the Rebel King? None of these options make me
happy, Vigholf.”
He moved in closer. “What would you
have us do? Even if you were the type to put down an ailing
queen—and we both know you’re not—there’s no way Iseabail or
Branwen will let that happen.”
“But—”
“You of all soldier dragons should
understand this, Rhona.”
“Aaargh! I knew you were going to throw
that in my face.”
“And Branwen is loyal to Annwyl. You
can see that your cousin will protect the queen with her life.
Would you kill your own cousin, too?”
“Of course not.”
“Then we keep moving and hope Annwyl’s
right about all this. Pray even. Perhaps the war gods will shine on
us tonight.”
“And why would they start
now?”
Austell the Red wasn’t surprised to
find that Éibhear wasn’t in the tunnels. Although that was where
Éibhear spent most of his time. He was a big, burly dragon, and he
was really good at moving big, unmovable things. And he’d be moving
up the ranks a lot faster than he was if he had his head on
straight and wasn’t so busy wasting his time on Celyn and past
history.
But try to tell him or Celyn that. Two
of the most hardheaded dragons Austell knew. Yet they were good
friends. Loyal . . . at least to him.
Honestly, such worry and bother over a
female. A human one at that! They could buy a woman for all the trouble they’ve been
through over some . . . well, to be blunt, some stray. In the big
scheme of things, she was nothing more than a dog that wandered in
from the cold. But that didn’t mean one had to make her a
pet.
Austell finally found his friend in a
small alcove, far away from all the activity of the bigger caverns.
He sat down next to him.
“You all right?”
“No. They’re not saying it, Austell . .
. but they don’t think Briec’s going to make it.”
“You don’t know that.”
“I know my brothers. The last time
Fearghus looked like that, Annwyl . . . and now he looks like that
again!”
“So what are you going to do, Éibhear?
Sit here, worrying about something you can’t fix? Or get off your
ass and help the rest of us lowly privates finish that bloody
tunnel? The sooner we get that done, the sooner we can get your
brother back to your mum. I bet she can fix him up
right.”
“She couldn’t save
Annwyl.”
Austell frowned. “But . . .
someone saved her,
right?”
“It’s a long and complicated story.”
When Austell’s frown grew worse, Éibhear rushed to explain, “She’s
not the undead!”
“All right, all right. No need to yell
at me.”
Éibhear let out a breath. “Sorry. That
was rude.”
And Austell almost laughed at him. To
Éibhear that was rude. To the rest of the dragons in this world? It
was nothing. Gods, would Éibhear go through his entire life being
such a goody two-talons? How was he supposed to make it in the
military when he was always so damn nice and accommodating? Unless,
of course, you were Celyn. Then you got nothing from the royal but
punched in the face and called all sorts of names Austell didn’t
even realize that Éibhear knew.
Austell really wished that Cadwaladr
cousin of Éibhear and Celyn was still around. The sergeant. She
kept the pair of them in line, but now that she’d gone off
somewhere, they were getting worse and worse by the hour. Those
cute triplets kept trying to stop them, but they didn’t have the
same terrifying demeanor as their sister.
Well . . . what could he do? Except for
what he’d already been doing. Trying to keep the pair separated.
And when they did have to work together, trying to keep them from
fighting every five minutes.
Honestly, he wished they’d both just
focus. Austell hated that tunnel. He hated being in such a small
place. True, it wasn’t small by most beings’ standards, but it was
to dragons. It would allow for them to make it into the Polycarp
Mountains two at a time. Hopefully, once they were in, they would
find their way to the Irons and destroy them from within. At least
that was the plan, but Austell liked being outside. Or in a much
larger cavern. Tunnels, like bridges, were just things that could
collapse in his estimation.
“Come on. You need to get back to
work.”
“Yeah, all right.”
Together they stood, but Austell
stopped to put his claw on his friend’s shoulder. “Don’t worry. I’m
sure everything will work out with Briec. We get this tunnel done,
kill all the Irons, and get him home. Easy and simple. We like easy
and simple, right? Right?”
Éibhear rolled his eyes and recited
their creed: “Only where women are concerned.”
Austell laughed and slapped the Blue on
the back. “That’s the spirit! Now let’s get this
done.”