Feel the Burn (Dragon Kin #8)(94)

Hands folded primly in front of her, Dagmar asked the three women, “Could you please excuse us?”

The eldest Kolesova, Nika, bit her apple core in half but didn’t actually . . . move anywhere. She just stared at Dagmar as did her two sisters.

Cracking her neck, Dagmar faced them, when Talwyn announced, “When my Auntie Dagmar tells you to get out . . . you get out.”

“She did not tell us to get out,” Nika explained. “She asked us to excuse her. We thought she meant excusing her from being imperialist dog or weak Northland female, neither of which we will excuse.”

“No. She meant get the f*ck out. So get the f*ck out.”

“That could have been clearer,” Nika complained, walking toward the front of the stables, her sisters following behind.

“And I thought the Shestakova sisters were literal,” Talwyn sighed.

Annwyl rested her arms on the stall gate, her horse nuzzling the back of her head. “What is it?” she asked Dagmar.

“I was visited by a god.”

“You’re always visited by gods.”

“Yes. Much to my joy,” Dagmar stated sarcastically. “But this one’s a friend of yours. The one Rhiannon was unhappy about.”

“Mingxia. What did she want?”

“To tell me the war has begun.”

Annwyl frowned. “She told you the war’s begun, but she didn’t tell us?”

“You’d think she’d tell us,” Talwyn complained. “We’ve been training with her all this time, yeah? So how come she didn’t tell us?”

“I don’t know. But you really would think she’d tell us before she told anyone else.”

“I know!”

“By all reason,” Dagmar hissed. “Are you two like this with her? When you’re training?”

Mother and daughter glanced at each other before Annwyl admitted, “Sometimes.”

“Yeah. That’s what I thought.” She blew out a breath. “It’s hard for me to admit this,” Dagmar said, placing the palm of her left hand against her forehead. “But I liked it better when you two didn’t get along. I had fewer headaches.”

“We’ve heard that before,” Annwyl said.

“From Daddy.”

“And Rhiannon.”

“And Briec.”

“And Talaith and Morfyd . . . where are you going? Don’t we have plans to make? Dagmar?”

Aidan suddenly pulled to a halt, raising his hand to stop them all.

The tunnel had grown even smaller and Gaius was glad to see that Kachka was holding on. Not letting the tight space wear on her as it had been.

But now, even he was starting to panic a bit. His cave—which he rarely used these days—might have small tunnels like this, but he never went down them. And many he closed off to prevent humans wanting to make a name for themselves from entering.

So why had they stopped now? Here?

Aidan leaned in to the small opening, with Brannie watching him closely, her body coiled as if ready to yank him back should some crazed dwarf try to take his head.

Yet there was no crazed dwarf. Instead, Aidan unleashed a line of flame into the opening.

And, after a minute or two, there was a, “Yeah?”

“Aidan the Divine,” Aidan replied. “Lord Jarlath’s third son.”

“Yeah,” the voice replied. “Come on in.”

“Follow me,” Aidan told them. “Be calm. Be respectful.” He looked right at Zoya. “Keep your pronouncements on men and males to a minimum. Understand?”

“Why do you look at me, pretty dragon?”

Marina reached up and placed her hand on Zoya’s shoulder. “Do not worry,” she told Aidan. “I will keep eye on our comrade.”

Aidan nodded and moved forward, the rest of them following.

Once they cleared the small opening, they stepped out into a large cavern and Gaius took a deep breath. He couldn’t believe how relieved he was to be in a larger space where he could straighten to his full height.

Armed dwarves stood in front of an entryway that led to large marble stairs.

Now that they were free of the confines of those tunnels, they walked three to four across and headed up the stairs. As they reached the top, they all stopped, gaping at what they saw.

The inside of the mountain had been carved out and a full city had been built within. A city of molten steel and working machines. A city of industry.

Gaius had never seen such a sight; the dwarves of the Empire were mostly like . . . everyone else in the Empire. Stonemasons, blacksmiths, and farmers. A few members of the Senate. Loyal to their own kind but, at the end of the day, still just . . . Sovereigns, like the rest of them.

If they had a world like this, built inside the Septima Mountains . . . none of the Iron dragons knew about it.

“This is amazing,” Brannie said. “I wish Izzy was here. She’d love this.”

“Lord Aidan?” a redheaded dwarf asked.

“Yes.”

“Yeah. Your father’s been waitin’ for ya. This way.”

Aidan briefly closed his eyes and let out a breath. “Son of a—”

“Let it go for now,” Gaius gently reminded him. “We have bigger issues than your father’s . . . uniqueness.”