Light My Fire (Dragon Kin #7)(97)

“Which is why Glebovicha took your eye!”

“That is enough!” Celyn bellowed, then he quickly buried his face in his hands, the piece of bark he’d been chewing falling to the table. “Gods, the pain. Even this bark isn’t helping.”

“You have not chewed long enough,” Kachka told him.

“Look,” he said after a moment, his eyes closed, “I don’t know what you two are arguing about, but don’t.”

“Because we are sisters and love each other?” Kachka taunted him. Elina grinned around her piece of bark at the insult meant only for Southlanders.

“No. But because I am dying and I’d like to do it in silence!”

Celyn didn’t appreciate the sisterly giggling he heard after his explosion, but he was too close to death to bother taking it any further.

Of course, he still wasn’t as bad off as Talan’s friend, Magnus. For such a big, hearty fellow, he seemed to handle his drink worst of all. And Rhian handled it best . . . because she’d been smart enough not to have any. He clearly remembered the way her little nose had crinkled when she’d sniffed the bottle, then handed it back to him with a tightlipped shake of her head. She was a rarity among the Cadwaladrs, and normally Celyn would assume she simply took after her mother, the lovely Talaith. But he’d seen Talaith at a few family feasts when the abilities to do basic math and modulate her voice had vanished after a few ales.

“Good!” Brigida boomed as she entered the alcove. “You’re all awake.”

Celyn wanted to snatch that damn walking stick from the old She-dragon and burn it to ash.

Once she made her impossibly slow way to the middle of the alcove, she pointed at Celyn. “You, boy—”

“I have a name.”

“—get ready to travel. You, too, Riders. We’ll be heading back to Garbhán Isle and that human queen.”

Celyn shook his head. “No.”

“I wasn’t asking.”

“I’m not taking Elina back to Annwyl until I’ve had time to—”

“No,” Elina cut in. “I must go and face Queen Annwyl. Let her know how I failed her and Queen Rhiannon.” She glanced at her sister. “She may take my head. I heard she likes to take heads.”

“Does she hack at the neck or—?” Kachka began.

“No, no. She is quite quick. One swipe of her blade and it is over.”

“Well . . . as long as it is quick. Your failure was not so great that you should suffer.”

“You are so good to me, sister.”

Celyn slammed his hands against the table and stood, knocking his chair over. “What bizarre conversation are you two having?”

“I thought we were speaking in your language . . . were we not?”

“That’s not what I mean. I don’t understand how you two can sit here and discuss this so casually?”

“I failed. What else is there to say? Now, let us go to face the justifiable wrath of Annwyl the Bloody.” Elina slipped off the table, but her legs nearly gave out, so her sister had to stop her from crumpling to the floor. “I am fine,” she lied. “I am fine.”

“You never could handle your drink, sister.”

“I kept up with you.”

“It is not what you do while drinking. It is what you do after.”

“Get your things and meet me outside the cave entrance,” Brigida ordered.

“You’re coming with us?” Celyn asked the old She-dragon, the idea of the journey growing more and more horrible.

“I long to see my kin again, Celyn the . . . Celyn the . . . what name have you earned, boy?”

“Celyn the Charming.”

The old She-dragon cackled. “Really?”

“I’m growing to loathe you. And I don’t usually say that to anyone.”

“And it’s just beginning,” Brigida promised. “Now outside. And you lot,” she said, pointing at the others with her stick. “You’ve got work to do.”

“What work?” Celyn demanded.

“Don’t like dragons who ask me too many questions,” Brigida announced, walking away.

When Celyn felt Brigida was far enough away, he caught Rhianwen around the waist and moved her off to a corner.

“What’s going on between you lot and Brigida?”

“Nothing you have to worry about it.”

“And yet I’m worried.”

“Don’t be. We’re fine.”

“It’s not really you and the twins I’m worried about. It’s more the world.”

Rhianwen stepped back from him, and Celyn immediately regretted hurting her feelings. He really shouldn’t have sensitive conversations with relatives when he was still a little drunk.

“I . . . we . . . have no intention of destroying the world. No matter what our enemies say.”

“But, Rhianwen—”

She held up her hand, turned her face away, her back ramrod straight. “No, no. I think there’s nothing else to be said. You’ve made your feelings about us quite clear.”

“Tell me, cousin,” Celyn asked, his head pounding too hard to even think of playing this game, “did you get that little performance from Keita or your mother?”