Light My Fire (Dragon Kin #7)(133)

Understanding that this particular boy wasn’t one for hysterics, Elina and Kachka grabbed Var by his arms, lifted him, and ran until an explosion of flames had them diving for the ground. When they felt safe enough to look, there was a dragon carcass where the man’s body had been.

“Everywhere,” Kachka complained. “There are dragons everywhere.”

Var scrambled up. “That was an Elder Guard.”

“Elder Guard?”

“They protect the Elder Dragon Lords just as Celyn protects the queen.”

“If that’s true, then why is he here?” Kachka asked. “Why is he not protecting his Elder Dragon Lord rather than wandering up behind my sister?”

Var moved close to the dragon, studying him. Then he suddenly dropped to a crouch and began to dig under the body.

“What is he doing?” Kachka asked.

“I have no idea. He is strange boy.”

Var stood and he now held a gold blade.

“By all reason,” he breathed.

“What is that?” Elina asked.

“A ceremonial dagger.” He studied the runes on the side and the hilt. “‘In the glory,’” he recited, “‘of the one true god.’”

Var looked up at Elina. “Uncle Bram!” he suddenly screamed. “Uncle Bram!”

Bram had made it as far as the dining hall before he was forced to dump his bag on one of the tables so that he could sort through all his things.

He didn’t know how long he was focused on that task, but he nearly jumped out of his weak human skin when he heard voices behind him.

Bram spun around and let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, Elder Vass, Elder Loran, Elder Reganach. Hello. What brings you here?”

“Important business about the queen.” Elder Vass smiled. “You do have some time, though, yes? To talk.”

“Of course.” Bram invited the dragons into his home with a wave of his hand. “Please come in. Let’s talk.”

Dagmar was busy in her study, analyzing the bills from the stonemason, hoping to figure out what that tower could possibly be—although she was pretty sure she already knew what it was for . . . much to her great disappointment—when her study door was pushed open.

She glanced up and saw the blurry form of Arlais standing there.

“Yes, Arlais?” Dagmar asked as she leaned back in her chair and put her spectacles on.

“Would you like some tea, my lady?” Mabsant asked.

Dagmar shook her head and waited for her daughter to come close.

“I have a request, Mother,” Arlais stated. As she approached Dagmar’s desk, Adda came out from under it and pressed her big dog head against the child’s neck. It was the only thing that gave Dagmar any comfort. The fact that dogs seemed to love Arlais and, in return, Arlais adored them. If the dogs were terrified of her or aggressive toward her, Dagmar didn’t know what she’d do.

A knock at the door had Dagmar rolling her eyes—Why is it suddenly so busy in here?—but Mabsant rushed to the door himself.

While he dealt with the message brought by one of the gate guards, Dagmar returned her focus to her eldest daughter.

“So what is it?”

“Auntie Keita has asked me to accompany her and Uncle Ragnar back to the Northlands for a visit.”

Dagmar thought on that a second, nodded. “All right. I’ll have to talk to your father first, of course, but I doubt he’d say no.”

“Good. Thank you.”

Arlais turned away, and Dagmar was about to refocus her attention on the bills. But before she could pull off her spectacles, she sensed that Arlais was standing right next to her.

She looked up and . . . she was.

“What is it?”

“You’re just going to let me go, aren’t you?”

Dagmar blinked, confused. “What?”

“When Var wants to go only a few miles away to Uncle Bram’s house you’re all, ‘Over my dead body’ and ‘How can my dearest child leave me?’ But I say I’m going to go all the way to the bloody Northlands and you’re all, ‘Bye! Don’t let the Garbhán Isle gates hit you on the ass!’”

“Arlais!”

“You don’t care about me at all, do you?”

“That’s bloody nonsense!”

“Is it? Really, Mother? Really?”

“Stop yelling!”

“I bet if it was one of those five little bitch sisters of mine, you wouldn’t even think of letting them leave!”

“The oldest one is seven!”

“I’m eight!”

“But a very mature eight!”

“Oh! You are the worst mother ever!”

“I don’t know how that’s possible!” Dagmar screamed back. “You’re still alive, aren’t you?”

The boy tried to run past Elina, but she caught him and held him tight. “No!”

“I have to get to Uncle Bram! I have to warn him!”

“I will go!” Kachka whistled for her horse. She started running before it arrived. “Elina, get that boy back to his mother!”

The horse ran past Elina and Var and caught up to Kachka.

Kachka reached out and caught hold of the Steppes horse’s mane, launching herself onto its back.