How to Drive a Dragon Crazy (Dragon Kin #6)(87)

“You’re young, Iseabail. You may lack the powers of the Nolwenns but not their longevity. I’ll have use of you . . . in time.”

“And you’re keeping me alive to do what?”

“Keeping you alive? Me?” He laughed again. “Do you really believe that?”

“I’m still alive,” she insisted.

“Your sheer will has ensured that. Well, your sheer will and that high bit of insanity. Honestly, though, Izzy. It’s been your skill that’s kept you alive. You’ve grown into a mighty warrior without my help.”

Confused, Izzy asked, “If you didn’t want me for my blood debt, why did you bring me here?”

He sighed, sounding a bit exasperated. “Something neither you nor your mother can grasp—I don’t bring anyone anywhere. Dragon gods don’t do that. We don’t order mortals to do our bidding because dragons will go out of their way not to do it. So, instead, we . . . manipulate. We bargain. We blackmail.” He stood behind her now, his arms braced on either side of her, trapping her between his human form and the balcony wall. She felt intense heat coming from him, like standing over a volcano. It didn’t burn her, though. It didn’t harm her. But it was powerful.

“And, sometimes, little Izzy,” he said against her ear, “we entice. I knew Briec the Mighty would be enticed by your mother and I needed her someplace safe. His holding on to her, though, that was his decision, not mine. Personally, I couldn’t have cared less if he kept her or not. But over the eons, to get what I want, I’ve found that dragons are more easily enticed than threatened or bullied. Entice them and they’ll go anywhere I need them to.”

“You bastard.” Izzy closed her eyes, rage pouring down her like rainwater. “This has nothing to do with me.”

“In some ways you’re right. It has nothing to do with you. Then again, it has everything to do with you. But don’t hate me for being who I am, little Izzy. For I am a god.” He leaned in and kissed her cheek. “Do me a favor, though, would you? Watch your flank.”

“My . . .” Izzy spun around. Rhydderch Hael was gone, but in his place was something else. A dragon. Similar in form to the ones she’d known all her life but . . . different in two ways. The moon overhead told her his color was red, but the red had a bright bronze overlay that sparkled in the light in a way her own dragon kin’s scales did not. And his scales . . . they weren’t scales as she’d known them all her life. Because these scales had no separation between them. Instead they were like a hard shell perfectly formed over his entire body, with only room for the wings, limbs, and eyes. The dragon’s hair was long but had warrior braids throughout and the color had that same bronze overlay. He was, in Izzy’s estimation, the most beautiful thing she’d ever seen. His coloring made him look like a jewel glittering in the moonlight.

But he was no Southland dragon, of that she was sure. She also had no idea where he’d come from, which was why she slowly brought her hand down and wrapped it around the metal stick she kept on her sword belt. A metal stick given to her years ago by master blacksmith Sulien.

“Praying to your gods, human?” the dragon asked.

“I pray to no god. Not anymore.”

“But choosing the right god will set you free.” He lowered his long neck until they were eye to eye, lifted one talon, and brought it to his snout. “Ssssssh, human,” he said on a whisper. “Let’s make this quick so no one has to get hurt.”

Izzy nodded and replied, “We can at least make it quick.” Then she brought Sulien’s weapon around and thought about what she needed at the moment. That’s all it took. A thought and the weapon extended in length and the flat tip turned to a spike. She took firm hold of the steel in both hands and rammed it forward, forcing it into the dragon’s eye and straight into his brain.

Izzy yanked out the weapon, the dragon roaring in pain, his claws covering the hole where his eye used to be. He’d be dead soon, so Izzy turned away from him and leaned over the balcony edge. That’s when she saw more dragons climbing up the side of the mountain. They did this, she guessed, because the flaps of their wings would signal their approach to any dragon within a league.

So if silence was what they wanted . . . it would not be what Izzy would give them.

Stepping back and lifting her weapon, the wonderful thing growing longer and wider with another thought, she opened her mouth and yelled out, “Éibhear!”

Éibhear had Fal pinned to the floor with his back claw and was about to start stabbing at his cousin with the tip of his tail when he heard Izzy call out his name. If she’d called anyone else, he’d have continued fighting. But Izzy would never call his name unless . . .

He unfurled his wings and lifted himself up above the fray going on in the cavern. “Mì-runach!” he bellowed out. “With me!”

Izzy wasn’t about to try to kill a swarm of dragons she knew very little about and had never faced in battle, and who outsized her. So, instead, she ran. Sometimes even the greatest warriors in the world needed to run—and she wasn’t the greatest warrior in the world.

Izzy ran, hoping she was heading toward Éibhear and the others, but she wasn’t sure. Even worse, she knew now that these attackers were after her. She knew it when she heard one call out, “She went down here! Go! Go!”