How to Drive a Dragon Crazy (Dragon Kin #6)(117)

“I want to see my grandmother,” she said loudly, her voice echoing amongst all that marble. “And I want to see her now.”

As she walked down the long hallway, witches emerged from smaller rooms, looking at her, but saying nothing.

Finally, Izzy reached a huge doorway. She turned inside but after a few feet stopped, blinking several times.

Éibhear came in behind her and she heard his quick intake of breath.

“Gods,” she heard him whisper.

Even before Izzy had been reunited with her mother or known what she looked like, Rhydderch Hael would always tell Izzy that she greatly resembled her mother and father. She had her mother’s face but her father’s eyes and smile, he’d say. And, after one night with her birth father’s family, Izzy knew the truth of that just from what they all said about her. So she’d expected her grandmother to look quite a bit like Talaith. Yet she never thought she’d look like a mirror copy.

“So,” the witch said, “you’re the one that my daughter gave up all this for.” Dark brown eyes looked Izzy over. “You.” And she could hear the disappointment in the witch’s voice. “Well . . . your mother never was very smart.”

At more than four hundred years old, Haldane, Daughter of Elisa, showed no signs of age except for a few gray hairs at her temples.

It was, to say the least, disconcerting, for Izzy to see her “mother” standing there but know it was not her mother. The last time this had happened, her mother’s body had been taken over by Rhydderch Hael so that he could get into another god’s realm and kill her. But this witch standing on a dais, looking at Izzy as if she were completely meaningless, was simply not her mother. She wasn’t possessed with anything but a cold, calculating mind. A heartless bitch.

And Izzy wanted her dead.

“Oh,” the Talaith lookalike announced to the other witches slowly walking into the room. “She’s brought a dragon for us. Is he a gift?”

“I need to talk to you, witch.”

“After all these years? More than three decades and you come to my door now?”

“It’s not for me. It’s for my sister.”

“Right. The child that should not exist.”

“But she does exist.”

“And you fear her power.”

“I fear nothing about my sister. But I want what’s best for her.”

“So you’ll hand her over to me?”

“I want what’s best for her.”

The witch chuckled. “If you want me to care at all for this child, you should have brought her with you. You should have let me look in her eyes.”

“You can return with me to Garbhán Isle and you can look in her eyes to your heart’s content.”

“You want me to travel into foreign territory with”—she flicked her hand at Izzy—“you?”

“That is my plan.”

The witch pursed her lips, shook her head. “No. I don’t think so. However,” she added, smiling at Éibhear, “I’ll happily accept your gift.” Éibhear looked at Izzy.

“I think,” he began, “that you misunderstand my presence here, mistress. I am Éibhear the Contemptible, Son of—”

“I don’t care,” the witch cut in. “A gift is a gift.” That face that looked so much like Talaith’s turned cruel when she spit out, “We’ll have such wonderful use for your bones.”

One of the witches near him swung out her arm and something wrapped around Éibhear’s neck, yanking him back. He gripped at it, but he only felt his own scales. Yet he knew something had hold of him, was pulling him away from Izzy.

Another witch stepped forward and she swung her arm out. Something caught hold of his legs and yanked them out from under him. Éibhear ended up on his belly, slowly being dragged off somewhere.

Haldane looked at her granddaughter. “As for you,” she sneered and flicked her hand again. Izzy’s entire body lifted and flew back as if flung by the gods themselves.

Mum! Éibhear called to his mother. Mum! Izzy needs you!

Haldane looked at him. “Call to your mummy all you want, dragon. She’ll never hear you. She’ll never find what’s left of you.” She jerked her head toward the back of the big room. “Take him downstairs and get him ready. There’s a full moon tonight. I plan to take full advan—”

Haldane’s words were cut off as a giant piece of statue flipped across the hall and rammed into the witch’s chest, shoving her back and to the floor.

“Haldane!” one of the witches screamed out.

Izzy walked back into the room and she looked . . . very angry. But not only that, there was something else....

Éibhear squinted, looked closer. Something was sparking off Izzy’s body. And she was angry enough, he could easily believe it was coming simply from her rage. Yet he didn’t think so.

Another witch rushed to stand in front of a groaning Haldane, several others hurrying to their fallen leader’s side to help her. The witch raised her hand, pointed her finger. She began to chant words Éibhear didn’t understand, had never heard. And power roared up from her body and flew out of her hand, hitting Izzy right in the chest.

Izzy stopped, waved her hands and the energy that had slammed into her was tossed away. It reminded Éibhear of those times the Mì-runach would get drunk and play “war in the snow.” They’d toss giant balls of snow at each other and one would simply flick the ice and snow off his body before grabbing more snow and building another ball to retaliate with. That’s what Izzy was doing.