How to Drive a Dragon Crazy (Dragon Kin #6)(127)

“Then prove me wrong,” Izzy suggested. “Leave.”

“What?”

“Leave. Walk out. It’s not like I’m going anywhere.”

“You don’t really think this will work, do you? Trying to convince me that—”

“You’re a prisoner? A prisoner in a very comfortable cell? Or a calf they’ve been fattening up for the kill.”

Determined now, Vateria headed toward the chamber exit. But a dragon stepped in front of her, blocking her way.

Vateria tried again, moving around the dragon. But another dragon cut her off.

“Move out of my way,” she ordered.

Izzy smirked. “But you’ve been so comfortable here.”

“Shut up!”

Vateria stormed back into the center of the chamber.

“You can’t keep me here,” she argued. “I’m Chramnesind’s chosen one.”

“Really?” Izzy pursed her lips. “Huh.”

“What does that mean?”

“It means why would Chramnesind make you his chosen one? It’s not like you’re truly loyal to him. Look at these others. Vateria, this lot gave up their eyes for him. The others kneel in supplication. And they’ve all given up their families and friends in honor of his blessings. And you . . . you want an army. To win back land you never had a right to. Oh, yes. You are so the chosen one.”

“This isn’t working.”

“Fine. It’s not working.”

“They’re just keeping me here for my own safety.”

“Fine. It’s for your safety.”

“Well, what other reason could they be keeping me for?”

Izzy shrugged. “Well, I’m sure we can safely rule out virgin sacrifice.”

“Bitch.”

“But they could be planning to rip you open, clean you out, and fill you up with someone or something else. It’s kind of what happened to my mother.”

“Fill me up with what, exactly?”

“Whatever’s behind that wall.”

Vateria looked over her shoulder. “There’s nothing behind that wall except . . . sewage.”

“Fine. There’s nothing behind that wall.”

“Stop doing that!”

“I’m just agreeing with you.”

“Well stop it!”

Vateria sat back on her haunches, front claws twisting together.

After nearly a minute, she pointed at the wall. “Show me,” she ordered the others.

“Lady Vateria—”

“Do it! Show me what’s behind that wall!”

One of the dragons looked at the zealots, nodded. A wand was raised and, slowly, the rock wall separated and slowly opened.

Stifling a scream, Vateria stumbled back.

Izzy leaned over to the dragon standing next to her and asked, “Are those tentacles?”

The Sand dragon looked at her . . . and smiled.

Chapter 41

“Are you sure about this?” Aidan asked him, the four of them staring up the stairs at the badly repaired doors Éibhear had just ripped open the previous day.

“I think so.”

“And I hope so. I’m not in the mood to suffer. Even for you.”

“What about when we get in there?” Caswyn asked. “Then what?”

“I don’t know,” Éibhear admitted. “We’ll figure it out as we go.”

Damn gods, he thought. Damn gods with their damn centaur shit. He hated them all, but he especially hated bloody Rhydderch Hael.

“I know. He can be a bit of a prat.”

Éibhear sighed and looked to his left. She stood there, tall and strong, brown of skin, arms covered in runes. But she was no mortal being. He could tell because of what should be the mortal wound on her neck. Her throat had been slashed from one side to the other and yet she was still . . . strong. Powerful. Breathing.

“It’s not his fault really. He has so many things on his mind. My focus is very clear. Always has been. But he’s involved in so many things. And after eons of dealing with those who don’t truly appreciate him, he just got a little . . .”

“Bitchy?”

“I was going to say cranky. And you’re no better.”

“Look, I don’t have time for—”

“Where the hells did you come from?” Aidan asked.

And that’s when Éibhear realized that his friends could see her, too. It was a relief to know he wasn’t actually going insane.

“I come from blood and death and good quality steel. Battle makes up my organs and war makes up my soul.”

“Uh . . .” Uther leaned in. “Are you sure you’re all right? You’ve got a bit of . . . uh . . . well . . . a scratch on your throat?”

She laughed. “Aye. A scratch. Don’t worry. This scratch will heal.”

Needing to know, Éibhear asked, “Why can they—”

“As warriors, when you leave this life, you’ll come to me. All the Mì-runach come to me. So I allow you to see me when I choose.”

“You’re Eirianwen,” Aidan gasped. “The goddess of war and death.”

“I thought you’d be a She-dragon,” Caswyn said. “But I don’t think you are.”