Light My Fire (Dragon Kin #7)(55)

There was only one problem with Gaius’s plan. The queen tended to forget who he was. Normally, this was something he’d find insulting—something his sister always found insulting—except that he couldn’t be too upset. Annwyl was an odd woman. Politics bored her. Royal lineage meant little to her. So he didn’t think she forgot him to be insulting or as some cold-blooded political maneuver. She forgot him, it seemed, because her poor, beleaguered brain couldn’t handle much more. And Gaius simply couldn’t hold that against her.

Yet when he looked over at his sister, all Gaius could see was her concern.

No. There’d be no taking her to Garbhán Isle and dropping her off so that he could head to the series of meetings he’d set up through Bram the Merciful. He would need to ease Aggie into this. Thankfully, he did have a little time.

“You know,” he finally suggested, “we could go to Lord Bram’s castle first.” Bram had a wonderful way of easing tensions between all involved. He was a good dragon, something that meant a lot to Gaius and his twin since for most of their existence all they’d known was the treachery of their own kin. “If he’s there, we can travel with him to Garbhán Isle in a day or two.” His sister winced a bit. “Or . . . or we can spend more time at his castle first, if you’d like.”

Aggie nodded. “If that would make you more comfortable, why not?”

They both knew it had nothing to do with Gaius’s comfort, but her pride was a bit brittle these days, so Gaius didn’t mind her blaming little things like this on him.

“Then let’s go.”

They turned their horses and met up with the small unit that he’d hand chosen to ride with them to ensure his sister’s safety. Although they could fly into this territory, there was still a lot of violent history and bad blood between the Southland and Western dragons. It was better to go as human and blend in to the general throng than it was to risk coming snout to snout with angry Southland dragons who’d lost their kin during the early wars between their kind.

Gaius knew from experience that dragons had very long memories.

Chapter Seventeen

It took two days to make it to a forest outside a medium-sized city.

“There is so much unused space in the Southlands,” Elina noted. “Why do these people insist on living in these stone cities and towns . . . unable to move anywhere?”

“Southlanders like permanence. We like to know that when we come home from work, we go to the same place every night. It’s comforting.”

“Comforting?” Elina shook her head. “Such a strange people.”

“You don’t like comfort?”

“It leads to weakness and soft hearts.”

Celyn reached over and patted her head with his big hand. “You make me sad, little human.”

Elina was thinking about stabbing the dragon in his hand so that he’d learn never to do that to her again, but she saw a group of men walking down the road toward them. One of the men led a horse that had a large cart behind it. Elina had no idea what was in that cart because it was covered in cloth. But she did notice the way the men stared at her and the dragon. As if they were waiting for them to do something. Whatever was in that cart was important to them.

As they passed the men, Celyn suddenly slowed his horse to a stop. Elina also stopped and glanced back, watching as the dragon lifted his head and sniffed the air, his entire body growing tense.

Elina rode back to him, circling around his giant travel-cow. “What is it?” she asked softly.

He shook his head and moved on, and Elina fell into place beside him.

Together they passed the city gates and made it down the road another two leagues. That’s when Celyn stopped again and looked around. When he saw nothing, he nodded at Elina and turned his horse toward the woods, urging the oversized beast into a gallop. Elina clicked her tongue against her teeth and her horse followed after Celyn’s.

They headed back toward the city but stayed in the woods, climbing up and up until they reached the opening of a cave buried deep in the forest.

Celyn quickly dismounted and prepared to call out, but Elina leaned over and slapped her hand over his mouth. When he looked at her, she shook her head and sniffed the air.

Since she’d been a young girl, she’d been taught to track two things: animals, because they were food; and men who were not part of their tribes . . . because, as a whole, men could not be trusted.

And Elina smelled men.

Celyn’s heart had raced as they’d made their way up to Costentyn’s cave. He’d scented dragon’s blood on those men. And their clothes had been singed at the edges as if they’d been touched by a dragon’s flame. Since Celyn knew of no other dragons in this region, he feared the worst for his old friend.

And clearly he wasn’t alone in that sinking feeling. With her free hand, Elina pointed at her own nose. She scented something, too.

When she seemed confident that Celyn wouldn’t call out, she pulled her hand away from his mouth and dismounted from her horse. She took the reins of both horses and led them to nearby trees.

With her curved bow and a quiver full of arrows secured to her back, Elina came to his side and nodded. Once. She was ready.

Celyn removed his fur cloak so that nothing would encumber him should he need to fight as human, and together they entered Costentyn’s cave.