Light My Fire (Dragon Kin #7)(99)

“Not on your lives,” she said adamantly. “Do you know why?” The five girls shook their golden heads, eyes just like their father’s staring back at Dagmar, waiting for what she was going to say next. “Because I never changed. I refused to. It wasn’t easy. Some among my family were quite mean about it. But I never changed, and do you know what happened? I met your father and Auntie Annwyl and Auntie Morfyd and all your uncles . . . and everything was wonderful. So how can I ask you to change when I never did?”

“We don’t want to go anywhere,” Seva told her, as always speaking for all five of them. “We like it here.”

“You’re not going anywhere. I won’t allow it. But, more importantly,” Dagmar added, “your father will never allow it. As far as that dragon is concerned, the suns rise and set on his girls. So you don’t need to hide in my study, worried that we’ll be sending you away.”

“That’s not why we come in here. We come to your study because if you don’t notice us, we get to hear all sorts of interesting stuff between you and the generals.”

Dagmar stood and pointed at the door.

As her daughters marched by, Dagmar noted, “You five are unbelievably sneaky.”

“We are, but Daddy says we get that from you.”

Dagmar followed her daughters into the hallway, turned, and locked her study door, but when she looked back, her daughters had already disappeared.

All right. Maybe her five youngest daughters made her a little nervous, but that was natural, wasn’t it?

As Dagmar headed down the hall, she saw Annwyl walking toward her, going out for her daily training, no doubt. Although she didn’t usually come this way.

“Where are you off to?” Dagmar asked.

“To check on the tower before I head to the training field.”

“Huh.” Dagmar caught the queen’s arm and stopped her. “Mind explaining to me what that is you’re building out there?”

Annwyl shrugged, her face frowning in confusion. “It’s a tower.”

“Yes, but—”

A loud crash from outside cut off Dagmar’s next words, and Annwyl stormed off down the hall while yelling at the stonemason who might or might not be able to hear her from this far inside the castle walls.

“I will not be paying for whatever just happened!” she yelled.

Shaking her head, Dagmar headed off for her first meal before the Rebel King and his distrustful sister arrived.

Elina landed on her hands and knees, everything she’d eaten or drunk in the last twenty-four hours pouring out of her in great bouts of vomit.

A few feet away was Kachka, going through the same thing. And Celyn was nearly lighting the forest on fire as his vomit came out like lava, spraying the trees and decimating the spongy undergrowth.

“Oh, dear,” Brigida’s voice rasped, “I completely forgot to mention not to drink too much before we travel. The body just expels it.”

Kachka, the first to stop retching, fell back against a tree stump. She pointed an accusing finger at Brigida. “You hag,” she snarled. “You handed us four more bottles last night before you went to bed.”

“Did I?” Brigida asked. “How the mind fades with old age.”

“You did this on purpose!”

“Watch your tone, orphan of the Steppes. I’d hate to tear your tongue out by the root.”

Brigida quickly turned her head as the right side of her fur cape was sprayed with vomit-flecked lava.

Celyn stumbled toward the old She-dragon. “Don’t you threaten—” His words abruptly ended as he fell face-first onto the ground and stopped moving.

Brigida shook her head. “This is what you get for spending your life under your mummy’s tail, boy.”

She shook off the lava and began to walk away.

“Wait,” Elina called out as she pulled herself to her feet by holding onto the low-lying limb of a nearby tree. “Where do you go, old hag?”

“I long to see my homeland again. It’s been much too long. You lot can get back on your own from here. Garbhán Isle is just over that ridge.”

Elina tried to go after Brigida, but as soon as she stepped away from the tree, she was forced to drop to her hands and knees again so she could continue vomiting.

Once her system cleared out, she crawled over to her sister, dropping down beside her.

“She is so mean,” Elina said to Kachka.

“I know.” She nodded at their mounts. “At least the horses are doing well. Even that big cow.”

“I call him travel-cow.”

“Fitting.”

“It is not!” Celyn screamed into the ground, still unable, it seemed, to get up.

“We cannot face the fancy Southland queen like this,” Kachka said, ignoring Celyn. “We may not be able to ever go home again, but I will not represent the Steppes as poorly as this.”

Elina listened for a bit, then pointed to the west. “There is stream or creek over there. We can wash up and change.”

Kachka nodded, and together the sisters slowly got to their feet. Once they were steady, they both walked over to Celyn. Each took an arm and they proceeded to drag the dragon in his human form toward the water.

“He weighs as much as that travel-cow,” Kachka complained.