Light My Fire (Dragon Kin #7)(23)

“Isn’t that nice,” Annwyl practically snarled between clenched teeth.

“It is,” Rhiannon quickly cut in. “Very nice. Especially because we need a little favor from you . . . uh . . . what was your name again, dear?”

“Elina Shestakova of the Black Bear Riders of the Midnight Mountains of Despair in the Far Reaches of the Steppes of the Outerplains.”

“Ah, yes. That name.”

“Do you actually ride bears?” Gwenvael felt the need to ask.

“The old ones say that our ancestors rode the black bear. But now we only ride the horse. They are easy to manage and do not have the big claws.”

“Do you have a shorter name we can use?” Fearghus asked.

“No,” she stated flatly, but when everyone simply stared, she added, “I joke.”

Talaith scratched her nose. “Funny.”

“Since you are not kin or part of my tribe, you may call me Elina Shestakova, Daughter of—”

“Elina then,” Rhiannon quickly cut in. “That’s such a nice name. Isn’t that nice, everyone?”

There were barely muttered agreements.

“Now, dear Elina, as I said, we need you to do us a small favor and all will be forgiven regarding that nasty business of you trying to kill me.”

“What is it you need?”

“We need you to arrange a meeting with the leader of all your tribes.”

“You want to meet with the Anne Atli?”

“Is she the one who rules all the tribes of the Steppes?”

“Yes. Anne Atli rules all the tribes. It not only is her title but also was the name of the first female Captain of the Horseriders, and it is the name taken by every female leader who has come after her.”

“Then, yes, that’s who we want to meet with.”

“I am unable to promise I can arrange such a meeting. I will have to go through the leader of my tribe, Glebovicha. But I will do all I can.”

“Is Glebovicha the one who sent you here?” Celyn asked.

The Rider took a moment to answer. “Perhaps.”

“So,” Celyn barked, “the woman who sent you here to die is the woman you need to go through to get to the tribes’ leader?”

“Why are you talking to me?” she suddenly bellowed.

“Because I’m fascinated by your willingness to die!”

“Enough!” Rhiannon ordered. She stopped, took a breath. “Will you do this for me, Elina?”

“I will. Of course.”

“Excellent!” the queen cheered, wrapping her arms around the woman’s shoulders and hugging her tight. “Such a . . . dear . . . sweet . . . girl!” she added between sniffs of the top of the human’s head. “And tasty-smelling.”

“Mum!” Morfyd instantly chastised.

“What?” Rhiannon pushed the woman away. “She . . . just smells nice, is all. I wasn’t planning to eat her or anything. As I’ve been told many times . . . that’s still wrong.”

Now, his sister said inside Celyn’s poor, abused head, this is where Rhiannon says that someone has to take the poor little pale waif home.

Ah, yes. The downside of his siblings being able to communicate with him with their mind—that one’s siblings could talk whenever they wanted. Like now. About ridiculous bullshit.

I’m not taking her anywhere. She’s beyond irritating.

Of course you’re not taking her anywhere.

That hadn’t been what he’d expected his sister to say.

What do you mean?

I mean our parents are not about to allow you to go anywhere.

Our parents? I’m not a seventy-year-old hatchling, Brannie. I can go where I like.

Uh-huh. Sure you can.

Confused by the entire conversation, Celyn heard the queen state, “You’ll sleep here tonight in a proper bed, and get started tomorrow. We’ll make sure you have food and a fresh horse for your trip.”

“I have horse. I get own food.”

Celyn rolled his eyes.

“What?” the woman demanded, immediately catching his annoyed expression. “What is that look?”

“You won’t take food? You’re going to starve instead?”

“The forests are filled with food. I hunt.”

“As well as you assassinate? Because you might starve.”

“Celyn,” his mother said softly. “Let it go.”

“Fine. I’ll let it go.”

“Wait,” Rhiannon said, raising her index finger. “Celyn has a good point.”

“I can hunt my own food. I do not need his help,” the Rider sneered at Celyn.

“Clearly you need someone’s help.”

The woman made a noise, and Celyn snapped back, “Did you just hiss at me, female?”

“Stop it,” Rhiannon cut in. “Both of you. I am queen here—”

Fearghus suddenly cleared his throat and gestured to Annwyl with a tilt of his head, so Rhiannon amended her statement to, “I am the most important queen here—”

“Mum, that’s not what I—”

“—and I think it’s necessary for you, dear Elina, to have someone to ensure your safety. And I think that should be—”