Feel the Burn (Dragon Kin #8)(78)

“No. Not Annwyl. But take me to her.” Rhiannon walked off, barking over her shoulder, “Now, Northlander!”

Dagmar tossed treats to her dogs, then followed the angry queen.

Rhiannon was substantially taller than she so her strides were long. Dagmar had to run to catch up with her, her dogs running alongside her.

By the time she reached the Dragon Queen, she was panting and Dagmar didn’t like it one bloody bit.

Rhiannon lifted her robes and charged up the stairs and into the house.

Morfyd and Talaith were chatting on the stairs—probably gossiping—but they stopped when they witnessed Rhiannon storm by.

“Mum?” Morfyd asked her mother’s back, brows raised at Dagmar.

Dagmar threw up her hands and continued to follow, while Morfyd and Talaith fell in line behind them.

Rhiannon cut through the entire house, and continued out the back and into the forest. She didn’t stop until she reached a small clearing.

Dagmar saw Annwyl and Talwyn sparring with short swords and shields. And watching them were the three giant Riders.

“What are those Riders doing?” Talaith asked.

“They never leave her side,” Dagmar pointed out. “They escort her to her room at night . . . which apparently is freaking out poor Fearghus.”

“I can’t blame him.”

“I think Annwyl likes them, though. They’re quiet when she reads.”

Talaith glared at her. “Are you saying I talk too much?”

“Everyone says you talk too much. You’re only outdone by your own daughters.”

As the mother and daughter moved around, swords clashing, Rhiannon suddenly stalked between them, separating the pair.

Annwyl looked at Dagmar. “What’s happening?” When Dagmar’s only reply was a shrug, Annwyl rolled her eyes. “Are you still playing that game with me?”

“I really don’t know what she’s doing.”

“Where is she?” Rhiannon demanded.

Annwyl faced her fellow queen. “Where’s who?”

Rhiannon crossed her arms over her chest. “Mingxia.”

Dagmar had no idea who that was until Morfyd asked, “The war god?”

“The Eastland dragon war god.”

Talaith made a tsk-tsk sound. “Is there any god you’re not involved with, Annwyl?”

“She’s just been helping. Teaching me new battle skills. I don’t see the problem.”

“Do you want to tell her the problem, granddaughter?” Rhiannon asked Talwyn.

“Nope.”

And that’s what Dagmar loved about her niece. She didn’t know anyone more straightforward.

“She’s been using Talwyn behind your back,” Rhiannon accused.

Talwyn let out an annoyed sigh. “No. She hasn’t.”

“Sending you out to fetch the eyes of Chramnesind? Like one of Dagmar’s dogs?”

“My dogs don’t fetch.”

Rhiannon waved at Dagmar to shut her up.

“That’s not even close to what happened,” Talwyn replied, putting down her weapons and reaching for a carafe of water. She poured a chalice full and handed it to her mother. Then poured one for herself.

“Then what did happen?”

Talwyn glanced at Annwyl and the queen shrugged. “Might as well tell her now. Before she tears the house apart in one of her tantrums.”

“I don’t have tantrums. I have fierce rage.”

“I didn’t find anything out from Mingxia. It was from Brigida.”

“Brigida told you?”

“No. We just . . . got it.”

“We?” Talaith’s eyes narrowed. “You mean you, Talan, and Rhi?”

“Things come to us. We hear things. It’s not a big deal.”

“It is,” Rhiannon insisted. “It could change everything.”

“How?” Dagmar asked.

“Any talisman from a god is powerful. Especially something stolen. If these things fall into the wrong claws—”

“They won’t.”

“You are the wrong claws, my dear.”

“I’m aware, Grandmother,” Talwyn shot back and even Dagmar could tell she was a bit hurt. “Which is why the three of us aren’t going after it. We sent someone else. Someone with no magicks in her blood.”

That’s when everyone looked at Dagmar.

“I don’t fetch either,” Dagmar reminded them all.

“Not Dagmar. We needed a warrior. And although she has a warrior’s heart, Auntie Dagmar was panting running after Grandmum.”

“She has very long legs!”

“We sent Kachka Shestakova,” Talwyn said.

“You sent the Scourge of the Gods after this . . . thing?”

“It seems fitting.”

“Dear Kachka Shestakova is the Scourge of the Gods?” the Rider called Nika asked. “How impressive for her! If her mother were not dead, killed by you, Mad Queen, she would be so proud!”

Rhiannon’s entire body tensed. “Who are they?” she asked, pointing a damning finger at the three outsiders.

“They are three Riders who have come to follow me into battle so that they may have an honorable death.”