How to Drive a Dragon Crazy (Dragon Kin #6)(122)

“I know I am!”

“No. I think Éibhear’s right,” Izzy pushed.

“How could you think he’s right?”

“Because it’s the perfect place for them.”

“How could the witches, magi, and sorcerers in these temples not know they have some cult leeching off their power?”

“Perhaps they’re part of the cult,” the lizard with gold hair suggested.

“No,” Izzy said. “They can’t afford pissing off the other gods by just choosing one.”

“Especially this Chramnesind,” Maskini’s granddaughter, Rachel, explained. She’d been the one to talk to the sisters at the library since she already had a good relationship with them. “The other gods hate him.”

“Bit of a prat?” Izzy asked.

“You could say. He wants to be the one god. The one we all bow down to.”

“Then for his acolytes to quietly use the power of other gods for their rituals would be quite the insult.”

“Plus the shit.”

They all looked at the brown-haired lizard. Uther, maybe?

“What?” Izzy asked.

“The shit.”

“What about it?”

“It makes sense they’d use the sewers to get around.”

Maskini glanced at Rachel. “Because of the shit?”

“He’s blind, yeah?” the brown-haired one went on. “Their god? And so are some of the acolytes. If they consider the sewers home . . . it must be easy to get to if they can smell it, especially since they can’t see it.” When they all just stared at him, he went on. “When you’re blind, you use your other senses. We have a few Mì-runach who’ve been blinded in battle. Not just lost one eye, but both. But just because they’re blind, don’t mean we can’t use ’em. We just give ’em some time to get used to being blind; then they come back in with us. They use their sense of smell and their hearing to get around. They’re bloody brilliant in battle.”

“You use the blind in battle?” Maskini demanded, unused to this sort of barbarianism in her own home.

“We don’t force ’em, do we, Éibhear? But if they want to fight, we let ’em fight. They’re damn good, too.”

“A Mì-runach would rather die in battle,” the blue-haired lizard explained, “than sit around a cave waiting for death. So missing limbs . . . missing eyes . . . doesn’t really stop a Mì-runach.”

After staring at the fire-breathing lizards for several long seconds, her mouth hanging open, Maskini faced her granddaughter. “Iseabail?”

She gave a small shrug. “It makes a bizarre kind of logic, doesn’t it?”

“You want us to check out the sewers?”

“It couldn’t hurt. Besides, Éibhear and the others are here for a reason.”

“And who told you that?”

“Rhydderch Hael.”

“Who’s that?”

“The father god of dragons.”

“The father god of dragons . . . talks to you?”

“Made her his champion,” the brown-haired lizard tossed in. “Didn’t he, Iz?”

“He did.”

“Why?”

“It’s a bit of a long story,” Izzy admitted. “Just know I really had no choice at the time.”

“And you trust this god?”

“Oh, gods, no. No, no, no,” she laughed. “Never!”

Maskini glanced at Rachel again, but the girl could only shrug.

Poor Izzy. Being raised among the barbarians in the Dark Plains had made her . . . uneven. Desert Landers were all about cold logic and precise planning. None of this insane guessing and ruminating and talking to gods. Who had time for all this?

“You don’t trust him, and yet you’re going to believe him on this?”

“Rhydderch Hael wants something. No. He needs something. Something he can’t do himself. So, yeah, I trust Éibhear and the Mì-runach on this. Besides, sneak attacks are what they do. And they do it well.”

“I guess if you’re sure . . .”

“It couldn’t hurt to look, Gran,” Rachel suggested. “We’ll call in a few of the Guard who are off for the night. Put the others on alert. By tomorrow we’ll have a good idea what’s in those sewers.”

Maskini looked over the group, then at Layla. Her daughter nodded. “It couldn’t hurt, Mum.”

“All right. We’ll do it.”

“Thank you . . . um . . .”

She saw the girl struggling with what to call her. And Maskini understood. The girl had a mighty loyalty in her, and it must be confusing to think about her family—or kin, as she liked to call them—back in Dark Plains. Although they weren’t blood, they’d helped raise her, loved her, taught her to care for herself in battle and life. They’d done what Maskini and her clan had been unable to do. For that alone Maskini would be eternally grateful.

“Maskini, child. Just call me Maskini.”

“Maskini. Thank you. Now, Bran and I can get started tonight and check out—”

“No.” The blue-haired dragon shook his head at Izzy.