Feel the Burn (Dragon Kin #8)(64)

But this mostly human child . . .

“What do you want, girl?” Brigida snapped.

Only two of The Three had come back a few months after spending some time with them royals and the Cadwaladr clan. That hadn’t surprised Brigida, though. Talwyn needed to be near her mother. She needed to learn from her. But the boy and the princess . . . they needed to be here. The boy, he’d taken on the other Abominations. Training them. Organizing them. Just like his father, that one. He didn’t like being in charge, but he accepted it when it was necessary. And the girl . . . to be honest, Brigida hadn’t paid much attention to her since she’d returned. They spent their time reading books. Doing rituals. But never together. They barely spoke. And when the girl was feeling lonely, she went outside and spent time with the other Abominations and the monk and two Kyvich witches that the twins had brought with them so many months back. Her “friends,” she called them.

Witches shouldn’t have friends. Not ones that had real work to do. And them three, Talan, Talwyn, and Rhianwen, all had work to do.

But needing friends. Needing family . . . that just made the girl weak in Brigida’s mind. Weak and useless. Something Brigida had no time for.

“What were you dreaming, Auntie Brigida?”

“Don’t you never mind, girl. Just an old She-dragon dreaming of the—”

“Stop lying to me,” the girl said, for the first time sounding dangerous. “We don’t have time for your lies and we both know it.”

“What I know, girl, is that I’m the last one you should think about getting uppity with. I ain’t one of them precious aunts of yours. I ain’t got no real use for you, so stomping on you until you’re nothing but shit on me claw won’t mean nothin’ to me.”

With a slight shake of her head and a deep intake of breath, the girl sighed out, “Fine.”

Then the girl slapped her hand against Brigida’s forearm, pressing her fingers against the scales. And, in that instant, Brigida knew the girl was in her head! Physically inside her mind. Looking around, examining shit. Being nosey, Brigida’s mum used to call it.

Shocked and annoyed, Brigida tossed her out, but when the girl’s eyes snapped open, there was nothing there but cold rage.

“You bitch,” the brat growled, her voice low. No longer the sweet darling of the Cadwaladr Clan. “You know what they’re looking for. What they’ve been torturing and killing for all these months. You know!”

“Don’t bellow at me, little bitch! I’ll rip that puny soul right out of you and drink it down like wine.”

She faced Brigida head-on. “Then do it.”

“What?”

“You heard me. Take my soul. Drink it down like wine. Do it.”

Brigida reared back a bit. “What is wrong with you?”

“What’s wrong with me?” Rhianwen asked. “I’m tired of your shit.”

“You’ve lost your mind, little girl, if you think you can take me on.” Brigida flicked her claws. “Get from my sight until you get control of yourself.”

Then Brigida turned to go, but she reared back and, for the first time in eons, she gazed in horror around her. For she was no longer in her cave. But in a field of vast green, with trees and lakes and mountains as far as her old eyes could see.

“What the . . . what the f*ck have you done?”

“What’s going on?”

Brigida looked over her shoulder and saw the twins. They were both here. Physically. Although she knew for a fact that the boy had been far outside her cave with the other Abominations and the girl had been with her mother leagues away at Garbhán Isle.

“What’s happening?” Brigida demanded. “Where am I?”

“She knows,” Rhianwen told the twins. “She knows and she hasn’t said a word.”

The boy “tsk-tsk’d” her. “Oh, Auntie Brigida. Still choosing sides?”

“The only side I have is me own. Thought you knew that.”

“We’re beyond your side,” Talwyn told her. “Right now, there’s only two. Ours. And his.”

She was talking about Chramnesind.

“So if you’re not helping us,” Talwyn went on, “you’re helping him. And we can’t have that.”

“You lot think you can take me down? Me?”

“Take you down?” Rhianwen asked. “No. Leave you here to rot? That we can do.”

“See over there?” Talwyn asked, pointing. “Those three?” Brigida glanced over and spotted the souls of three shamans. They looked like Riders of the Western Mountains. Unlike the Riders of the Outerplains, these Riders were slave traders and Queen Annwyl had made it her business to destroy them. A war that had come right to Annwyl’s door when the children were still very young. “They tried to kill us when we were . . . eight?”

“Nine,” Talan corrected.

“We’ve had their souls here ever since. When I need a little extra oomph, I feed off them. Which Rhi hates.”

“It’s one thing to keep them here, because what they did was wrong. But to feed off them is tacky.” Abruptly those silver eyes locked on Brigida. “But with you, Auntie, we’ll do it.”

“You see,” Talan explained, “our mother gave up her life for us. And now she risks her life, every day, not just for us, but for her entire queendom. The least we can do is help her succeed. Not only to keep her reign, but to keep her people safe.”