At the front, two riders—leaders by their demeanor—looked around and one of them finally gestured to the others. Dismounting their horses, three other riders started to set off, but one of the leaders held up a gloved hand—a female, Izzy guessed from the slightly smaller frame under the hooded cloak—and stopped the men. Even though Izzy couldn’t see the female’s face, she could tell that she was studying the front of the building. Izzy took a small step and saw that Éibhear was . . . well . . . he was standing on the front of the building in his dragonform. She’d seen him do that sort of thing before but it still fascinated her. Considering their size, dragons didn’t seem to have too many issues with gravity.
But what concerned Izzy at the moment was that the female seemed to be able to see him. Or, at the very least, sense him. Yet Izzy had seen Morfyd, a powerful white Dragonwitch, look right past her baby brother, unaware she was practically walking on his head.
Éibhear moved the slightest bit and the head under the cloak jerked. Perhaps she heard him. Perhaps she didn’t. Izzy didn’t know. She heard the female take in a breath, a sure sign she was about to unleash her flame. Something that didn’t worry Izzy. Although fire dragons could use their flame against their own kind to shove or batter, the flames themselves could do no damage. Southland dragons were made of fire and their scales were an added protection.
But before the female unleashed her flame, the hood of her cloak slipped back and Izzy immediately recognized her. Recognized her and knew what that particular female’s flame could do to one blue dragon who had absolutely no idea of what was about to hit him.
He felt confident the dragoness couldn’t see him, but she did sense him. Could be she was a witch of some kind. His mother and sister Morfyd belonged to one of the most powerful breeds of Dragonwitches, but there were others at different levels of power. Still, it really didn’t worry him. Instead he just waited to see what she’d do, and when he heard her take in a deep breath, he became even less concerned. Because of his size, some dragon’s flame wasn’t even going to knock him off the building, much less harm him. Yet as the dragoness leaned forward in her saddle, the hood of her cloak dropping back to reveal a very pretty human face, Izzy’s scream from the far side of the building shocked them all.
“Agrippina! No!”
The She-dragon’s head snapped around and the flame she was going to unleash on Éibhear was instead directed at Izzy. The flame was so powerful, Éibhear reared back and the stones that made up that part of Bram’s castle broke apart and melted. She made stones melt.
Éibhear had never seen anything like it, but he didn’t have time to analyze any of that because Izzy had been standing there two seconds before.
Pushing off from the building, Éibhear unfurled his wings and raced around the damaged building.
“Izzy!” he bellowed. “Izzy! Answer me!”
“I’m here!” She stood, appearing from behind a large boulder. He’d forgotten how fast Izzy could move, but he was grateful for it.
He landed beside her, the land shaking.
“Are you all right?”
Tears streamed down her face and she shook her head. “Macsen.”
The dog? She was sobbing over that dog.
She pointed to the smoldering remains of melted stone and seared wood beams. “He was standing over there,” she said around sobs. “I thought he was right beside me.”
Éibhear discreetly sniffed the air and, aye. He smelled burnt dog fur. Best not to say that, though.
“I’m sorry, Izzy. I know he meant a lot to you, but we have other things to worry about—”
“Macsen!”
Éibhear blinked and watched Izzy push past him and over to a pile of still burning debris. And dragging himself out from under that debris came Izzy’s dog. With his dirty, matted fur burning in some spots, the big beast stumbled away from the debris and toward Izzy. But he suddenly stopped, dropped, and rolled around in the dirt for a bit. When Izzy reached him, the fire on his body was out and with a good shake, all that dirt went flying, making Izzy laugh. Then she dropped to her knees and hugged that disgusting, bizarre beast.
“You poor thing! Are you all right?”
“Izzy!” Éibhear snapped. “We have much bigger concerns than your gods-damn devil dog!”
“Iseabail?” another voice asked and Éibhear saw one of the riders standing at what was left of the corner of the building. It was a voice Éibhear didn’t recognize.
The rider pulled the hood of his cloak back, long, dark silver hair spilling out, and . . . an eye patch. The dragon wore an eye patch.
Izzy looked up from that slobbering beast who didn’t seem to be hurt at all after being on fire and crushed under all that debris, and her smile was so wide and bright that Éibhear just assumed it was because she was happy her dog was safe. But then she released the dog and charged over to the one-eyed dragon, launching herself into his arms.
“Gaius!” she crowed. And that’s when Éibhear knew that this was Gaius Lucius Domitus—the Rebel King of the Quintilian Provinces. An Iron dragon descended from the enemies of the Southland dragons and the bastard who liked to send books with strange notes to Izzy. A dragon Iseabail the Dangerous was currently hugging.
Bugger.
“What are you doing here?” Izzy asked as she stepped back. It had been years since Izzy saw Gaius last, but that had never mattered. Their friendship had been forged in the blood-filled ending of the Quintilian Overlord Thracius. Since that time, Gaius had worked to take full rule over the Quintilian Provinces, but Thracius’s daughter and a son or two still lived and still caused problems. Great problems. And there were many who felt any of Thracius’s offspring were the rightful heirs to the throne. If that meant getting rid of Gaius, they’d be more than happy to make that happen.
Which told Izzy that whatever was going on was important because Gaius didn’t usually leave the Provinces for any length of time. He could rarely afford to.
“I was hoping to get an audience with Queen Annwyl and Queen Rhiannon, if possible, and I knew Lord Bram could help us with that. We sent word to his assistant, Robert, yesterday. He met us in town last night and we discussed our concerns with him first. He led us back here today to stay until Bram’s return, but when he saw the gate closed—which he was sure he’d left open—we had him wait down the road while we checked everything out.” He smiled. “I must admit, I’m glad it was just you. It’s not like I have one of my legions at the ready.”
Izzy gave a short shake of her head. “I don’t understand, Gaius. Why didn’t you send an emissary rather than coming yourself?”
“Oh . . . we did. But we sent him directly to Garbhán Isle and apparently Annwyl felt he was lying about who he was and, uh . . .”
Izzy held up her hand, not needing to hear anymore. “You weren’t close to your emissary, were you?”
“No. Varro”—the King’s human general and friend—“was wise enough to send a messenger no one really liked. So when that head came back to us . . . we chalked it up to a lesson learned.”
Izzy cringed and nodded. “Understood.” She patted his shoulder. “Actually, this works out well. Uncle Bram is with Annwyl and Rhiannon now. I can escort you to Garbhán Isle myself.”
“I’d really appreciate it. Losing my eye was one thing, losing my whole head . . . that would be more problematic.”
Laughing, Izzy gave Gaius another quick hug. “Let me get my things together and then we can head out.”
“That sounds fine but, uh . . .” His words drifted off and his gaze focused behind her.
“Someone you know?” Gaius asked.
Izzy looked over her shoulder and she saw that Éibhear had shifted to human and now stood behind her. Naked.
Yes. Very subtle.
“This is . . . my uncle”—and the glower she got for that was priceless—“Queen Rhiannon’s youngest son.”
“Oh, yes,” Gaius said, his entire body becoming tense under that cape. “Éibhear the Contemptible.”
“Éibhear, this is Gaius Lucius Domitus, the Rebel King.”
Éibhear grunted. He grunted. Even Fearghus, a known grunter, didn’t grunt at fellow royalty.
Gaius’s one eye narrowed. “I’m going back to my sister,” he said, his expression wary as he watched Éibhear closely. “We’ll meet you out front, Izzy.”
“Aye.”
She waited until he cleared the corner before facing Éibhear and demanding, “Is that how you were taught to greet a fellow royal? Even my father is better at it than you. And my gods, that is saying something.”
“I’m your uncle?”
Oh. So that’s what was bothering him. Izzy could have done a lot of things at this moment to assuage Éibhear’s annoyance. A lot of things.
She didn’t do any of them.
Instead she said, “Well . . . you are my uncle.” She brushed a bit of nonexistent dirt off his bare shoulder. “And I was your ward until years later when you finally had your vile, dirty uncle way with me.”
“Izzy.”
“I guess I should just be grateful punishments weren’t necessary. Dirty, dirty punishments involving chains, whips, and a nurse maid.”
“Izzy.”
She tapped his cheek with the tips of his fingers. “Don’t worry, Uncle Éibhear. I won’t tell. Last night will just be our dirty little secret.”
“That’s not what I’m—”
“We have to go. Whatever’s going on, Annwyl will want to know about it right away.” She turned to leave, but a big arm slipped around her waist and spun her back around. Éibhear pulled her into his body, holding her there while he stared down into her face.
“Do you really think I’ll just let you walk away from what happened last night?” he asked, not sounding angry . . . just challenged.
“Do you really think you can stop me?” Izzy grinned. “Are you really up to trying?”
At the same time, they both looked down. Because their bodies were so close, neither could see the erection currently pressed between them, but Izzy could easily feel it. He was hard as a steel spear, sooooo . . .
“Well, guess that answers that.” She pulled away from him. “Come on, Macsen,” she called out and her dog loped to her side. Part of his fur was crispy from the flame, but he still seemed to be doing well. Although she did have to pull out a piece of still-sizzling, melted stone from his mouth. Gods, the beast chewed on anything!
Éibhear watched Izzy walk away with that ridiculous dog that he wasn’t really convinced was actually a dog.
She’d dismissed him. He knew all the signs. After years among the Northland dragons and a lifetime among his kin, Éibhear knew when he’d just been dismissed like a pesky gnat flying around her nose.
Honestly, he’d been treated like that so often, he normally didn’t worry about it unless someone got on his nerves. But Izzy wasn’t getting on his nerves. She was pissing him off. Still!