How to Drive a Dragon Crazy (Dragon Kin #6)(83)

“You’ll see.” He turned back toward the pub door. “And, while we’re at it, if we can manage to get in a little more of that f**king you were talking about—that works for me as well.”

“Oh, that was subtle,” she complained, following behind him.

“I’m known for my subtlety. That was the other option for my name. Éibhear the Contemptible or Éibhear the Subtle.”

“Did you have other name options?”

“Aye. There was Éibhear the Despicable. Éibhear the Rude. And Éibhear the Murdering Rat Bastard Who Should Burn in the Farthest Reaches of Hell.” He stopped just in the doorway, looked down at Izzy. “I think that was my favorite.”

Chuckling, she pushed past him. “Of course it was.”

Chapter 26

For three days they rode far south. It wasn’t an easy trip. Not remotely leisurely, all of them exhausted and cranky by the time they bedded down for the night—except for that damn dog that never seemed to get tired—and each league they passed led to warmer and warmer weather. It might be fall in Dark Plains, but it felt like summertime the closer they got to the territorial lines between the Southlands and the deserts.

But just when Éibhear didn’t think he could stand going another mile, Brannie rode up beside him. He reined in his horse, as did she, and she pointed off to the right. “Do you know what’s over there?” Brannie asked.

“No.”

“Salt mines.”

Éibhear shrugged. “Do you need some salt?”

She let out that annoyed sigh—it was a sound she’d been making a lot on this trip—and said, “No. But the Queen’s troops are there. That means fresh meat, ale, perhaps a bed or a nice cave. Just for a night.”

He really did like the sound of that.

“What’s going on?” Izzy asked when she reached his side.

“The salt mines are near here. We can get fresh food and drink and a nice place to sleep with my mum’s troops.”

Izzy gazed at him a moment; then she looked at the rest of their travel party, who now waited expectantly, before she focused on him again.

“You do know I’m human, don’t you?”

He was surprised by her question. “I’m aware.”

“And you want me to be the lone human with an entire troop of dragons? And aren’t the salt mines a sort of prison for your kind?”

“I’m sure the salt mines have whores,” Caswyn added while looking around what was becoming more and more barren territory the farther they traveled.

Éibhear gawked at him, eyes wide, wondering what the hell the dragon had been thinking.

When Caswyn looked back at them all—and realized they were all staring at him—he clarified, “Not that you’re a whore. Just that dragons usually have whores around and they’re usually human. So you should feel quite comfortable.”

When everyone’s mouth opened a little wider, Caswyn sighed and said, “What I mean is—”

“Please stop talking,” Brannie desperately cut in. “For the love of all the gods in all the worlds, please stop talking!”

“I was just trying to put her at ease.”

“They’ll have ale?” Izzy asked Éibhear.

“Lots of ale.”

She walked her horse around him. “Thank the gods for something,” she muttered, and spurred her horse off the road and toward the salt mines.

After stabling their horses in town not far from the salt mines—yes, for the horses’ own safety—the traveling party arrived at the main mountain that overlooked the entire borderline between the Southlands and the Desert Lands.

Izzy rode Brannie to the entrance but dismounted once they’d landed. Without waiting for the others, she headed toward the caverns.

“Izzy,” Éibhear called out. “Wait.”

But Izzy wouldn’t wait. If she didn’t want to become an immediate target of some pushy dragon, she needed to show no fear from the beginning. And entering while riding on Brannie’s back, or with Éibhear at her side, only ensured that none of the troops would take her seriously.

Izzy walked into the large cavern. It was, she’d admit, a bit overwhelming to be amongst all these dragons who weren’t kin or friend. She’d never felt like a tiny woman before . . . until now.

Standing in the middle of the cavern, Izzy kept her hand on the sword at her side. After a few moments, one of the dragons lifted his head and sniffed the air. He looked around the cavern until his gaze moved down to her.

“Who are you?” he asked.

“Iseabail the Dangerous,” she said loudly so that everyone would hear. “General of Annwyl the Bloody’s Eighth, Fourteenth, and Twenty-sixth Legions.”

The dragon studied her for several long moments before he finally nodded and said, “Nice to meet ya, lass. Let us know if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” she replied, feeling a little disappointed. She’d expected more of a reaction. A little something. Did humans just wander into their caverns all the time?

“Izzy?”

She looked up, forced a smile. “Fal. Hello.”

Brannie and Celyn’s older brother, Fal. Although Izzy considered him family like all Cadwaladrs, she didn’t always like him very much.