Light My Fire (Dragon Kin #7)(58)

Even the dragon looked surprised—if it were possible for a thing to be surprised—as he glanced back at the woman. He nodded and then focused on the rest of the men. He pulled out the smallest sword. At least small compared to the dragon. But he slammed it against the side of the cave wall and the damn thing grew! Like some kind of evil magicks, it grew! Into a full-sized sword big enough for this dragon. And, with a roar, he began to swing that sword. Cutting the rest of the men into pieces, following up with his flame, stomping on a few for good measure. It was over in seconds.

Bloody seconds.

Slowly, the dragon turned to face the woman. “I thought you’d run to safety,” he said.

“Do not assume,” she said with some strange accent, “that I live in fear, Dolt. I went to higher ground.”

“I see that now. Sorry I questioned you. I should have remembered that you run toward death.”

“I do not run toward. I merely accept that death will come for me. What is point of fighting when death will have its way? And I will not have this argument with you again.”

“Who’s arguing?”

The woman gave a short hiss between her teeth, then asked, “What about him?”

She didn’t point at Miles, but the dragon slowly looked over his shoulder at the tree Miles was standing behind. “. . . I could use a snack.”

That’s when Miles pushed away from the tree and tried to run.

He tried. . . .

Chapter Eighteen

Elina retrieved as many of her arrows, the ones that hadn’t been broken or burned, as she could and returned to the top of the cave opening, where she’d had an excellent view. She sat down, her legs hanging over the side.

While she cleaned the arrowheads off with a cloth and put them back in her quiver, the dragon sat down beside her. Still in his dragon form, his back legs hanging over the top of the cave just as hers were, his front legs resting on his knees. She barely glanced at him, but it seemed a strange way for a dragon to sit.

Then, suddenly, the dragon burped, the sound of it sending birds flying from nearby trees.

Disgusted, Elina slowly turned her head to glower at him.

He stared back for a few seconds before telling her, “Oh, stop it. I didn’t eat him. I just stomped him into the ground. But I did find a sheep over there.” He shrugged. “And I was a little hungry.”

Deciding to take the dragon at his word, Elina went back to cleaning her arrows. That’s when the dragon shocked her more than she’d ever thought possible.

“Thank you, Elina of the Impossibly Long Name.”

“Your father managed to remember my impossibly long name with no trouble. As did that boy.”

“They’re clearly smarter than me.”

“My horse is smarter than you.” She slipped a clean arrow into her quiver and picked up another. “And you are welcome. I . . . I am sorry about your friend.” She glanced at him. “What happened to him was cruel.”

“It was. But I know he’s happy now. Annwyl told me.”

Elina stopped what she was doing and looked over at the dragon. “What do you mean, Annwyl told you?”

“She died once. Ended up in the afterworld among the dragons. She said it was really nice there.”

Lowering the arrow she held to her lap, Elina sighed. “Annwyl has seen death, embraced it, and has returned to speak of it. Does she fear nothing?”

“Mice.”

“Mice?”

“She’s not a fan. She saw a mouse in the Great Hall once and she screamed like someone was stabbing her children. She didn’t calm down until Morfyd made everyone go outside. So she could bring in some cats. But Dagmar’s dogs fought with the cats. The cats fought with the dogs. And Gwenvael kept eating the cats. Eventually—”

“Why,” Elina cut in, “must you ruin everything?”

“I didn’t know I had.”

“I was imagining the wonder of a strong queen fighting her way back from the embrace of death and you give me stories of mice and cats and Gwenvael.”

“You asked a question. I merely answered it.”

“Then do not. Do not answer any more questions. Just sit and look pretty. It seems that is what you are best at.” Elina glanced off, then back at Celyn before ending with, “Dolt.”

The cold winter breeze suddenly turned into a blustery wind that bowed the trees and raised the dirt, until the ground shook as many claws landed hard against it.

The dolt’s mouth pulled back in that unnerving dragon’s smile, revealing row after row of shiny white fangs.

“Uncle Addolgar!” Celyn called out.

“Nephew!” The silver-scaled dragon looked at the carnage he’d landed in. “Looks like we’re too late for any fun.”

“Actually . . . no, Uncle. You’re just in time.”

Addolgar looked down at what was left of the human bodies. He didn’t know what his sister had been so worried about. Celyn appeared to be able to handle himself just fine. A message he sent her quickly and then cut off so he didn’t have to hear her screaming in his head, Are you sure? Are you sure he’s all right? Do I need to be there? Are you sure?

It was rare, but when his sister became hysterical, all he wanted to do was hit her in the head with the blunt part of his axe to calm her down. She hated when he did that, but it was quite effective.