Light My Fire (Dragon Kin #7)(123)

“Moving! Now!” Bercelak bellowed. “I’ll meet you down by the lake. I want the whole Clan involved.”

Celyn pulled on his clothes and went in search of Elina, since he couldn’t leave without seeing her first. Thankfully, he passed his mum in the hallway.

“Can you get to Devenallt Mountain? I shouldn’t be too long.”

His mother smiled. “Your oh-so-important queen has more than enough guards surrounding her precious ass.”

“I know that. You know that. You know who doesn’t know that?”

“Me idiot brother?”

“I should round up a few of my brethren who like to spend their off-duty hours at the human pubs. Plus, I have to find Elina before I go. I don’t know how long Uncle Bercelak will have his bad feelings about the day.”

“What?”

“That’s what he said. That the day felt wrong to him.”

“Huh.” Ghleanna nodded and patted him on the shoulder. “You go. Take care of what you need to. I’ll be by Rhiannon’s side until you get there.”

“All right. Thanks, Mum. Oh . . . and Mum?”

“Yeah?”

“Do me a favor.”

“Another one?”

“Don’t fight with Rhiannon over Da. She just does that to make you and Uncle Bercelak crazed.”

“What are you talking about?” his mother asked, eyes wide as if she was completely confused by what her son was saying. “Me? Argue with dear, sweet Rhiannon? Celyn . . . don’t be foolish.”

Celyn let out a sigh. “Uh-huh.”

Annwyl walked deep into the forest, following the screams until she reached the edge of royal farmland.

The screaming came from panicked cows, including the one the old She-dragon had pinned to the ground with the help of a long tree trunk engraved with runes that she held in her left claw. She tore open the animal’s midsection and dug her snout deep inside, devouring her fill while the cow held on to life longer than Annwyl was used to. All the dragons she knew, if they craved fresh meat, killed their prey quickly before eating. Usually with a quickly snapped neck.

It seemed that Brigida the Foul enjoyed her meals more when they thrashed about.

When the old She-dragon finished sucking in the cow’s entrails like soup noodles, she suddenly turned that hard-to-look-at face toward Annwyl.

“What do you want?” that raw voice asked.

“Are you sure?”

Brigida tore off the cow’s leg and proceeded to munch on the hoof the way Annwyl tended to munch on chicken bones during quiet dinners when she was able to spend most of her time reading a book.

It suddenly occurred to her that perhaps she should stop that little habit.

“Sure about what?” Brigida asked around the hoof.

“That you can fix Elina Shestakova’s eye?”

“You get me a fresh eye, I can fix it.”

“How fresh?”

“Very.”

“If I ride to and from the Outerplains . . . ?”

Brigida shook her head, the sound of munching filling the valley. It was making Annwyl queasy.

“Nah. That’s too long. By the time you get back, that eye will be dry as a raisin and that hole in her head won’t be much better.”

“That’s disappointing,” Annwyl said softly.

“Ain’t ya got some prisoners? You can take it from one of them.”

“If they’re in jail it’s because they haven’t done anything to warrant getting their heads cut off. I’m not mutilating one person for another.”

“You mean . . . unless they deserve it.”

“It just seems fair,” Annwyl snapped back, already preparing the argument she’d have with Dagmar. “Her mother took her eye for no damn reason, so her mother owes her an eye.”

Annwyl abruptly scratched her head. Her hair itched. Not her scalp. Her hair, which even she knew was kind of a bad sign. But she was getting frustrated by all this.

Very f*cking frustrated.

Spitting out some cowhide, the She-dragon asked, “What if I told you I could get you there and back from the Outerplains in a day?”

Annwyl immediately dropped her hands to her sides. “I’m not giving you my soul.”

“Don’t need your f*cked-up soul. Got me own, don’t I? If I was going to take a soul, it would be a pure one. And I ain’t seen a pure soul around Garbhán Isle in many a century.”

“Then what do you want? I know you want something. I’m not stupid. I know how these magicks work.”

“Little girl, you know nothing. But that’s what I like about you. Your fists are hard. Your brain relatively empty. And your soul . . . mean. You and me? We can do things together.”

“Will I have to look at your face a lot?” Annwyl asked, closing her eyes. “Because it’s freaking me out.”

The old She-dragon cackled like she’d just heard the best joke ever. And when Annwyl opened her eyes again, Brigida was walking toward her as a flame-covered human, her walking tree trunk now shrunk down to a six-foot walking stick, the runes carved into it glowing.

By the time Brigida stopped in front of Annwyl, the flames were gone, but the blood-covered carcass of a mean old woman remained.

“Come on then, Annwyl the Bloody.”