The Dragon Who Loved Me (Dragon Kin #5)(30)

Ren raised his hand and Talaith scrambled to her feet. “Stop it! Both of you!” Dagmar stil couldn’t see anything, but that didn’t mean she couldn’t be affected by it. “I’d like us al to calm down,” Dagmar began. “Before this gets out of—”

The war-room door slammed open and the Dragon Queen of the Southlands swept in. She held Talan in her arms and had Talwyn hanging from her neck. The queen seemed to be the one being who could calm the children down without doing anything. None of them, however, had figured out how she managed that.

“There you al are. I’ve been searching for you for at least two minutes! The only ones to greet me were Ebba and my darling grandchildren.” She grinned at the boy in her arms. “So adorable!”

“Mother—” Keita began.

“What’s going on?” Rhiannon asked, her eyes seeing what Dagmar’s never could. “Oh, honestly. You children.” She flicked the fingers of her left hand and Ásta flew back, hitting the wal hard. Ren gasped, dropping to his knees.

“Ren!” Keita ran to her friend’s side, putting her arms around his shoulders.

“It’s gone,” Ren said through hard pants. “The portal. It’s gone. She’s closed it.”

“Opening a doorway in my territory without my permission?” Rhiannon accused. “You should know better, Ren of the Chosen. But I’m assuming it was my daughter’s idiotic idea.”

“I was trying to help, you crazed viper!”

“Don’t bellow at me, demon spawn!” She pointed at Ásta. “And you! Don’t threaten anyone without my permission, barbarian witch.”

“Is there a reason you’re here, my lady?” Dagmar asked, knowing the Dragon Queen hadn’t come down here to simply entertain Dagmar. And gods, Dagmar was quite entertained. “Or just dropping by for your weekly torture?” The queen smirked and answered, “We have a problem, little barbarian.”

“Bigger than the Western Tribes descending upon us as we speak? Which they are, according to Keita.”

“Aye. Bigger than that. I heard from Morfyd. . . . Annwyl’s gone.”

Keita pressed her hand to her chest. “Annwyl’s . . . dead?”

“Did I say dead? I don’t think I said dead.”

“Then what the hel s did you say?”

“Again with the yelling?”

“My liege . . .” Dagmar pushed.

“She’s gone,” Rhiannon said again. “As in Morfyd woke up one day and Annwyl was gone.”

“Kidnapped?” Talaith asked.

“No. Just gone. Along with Izzy and Branwen.”

Talaith’s eyes grew wide in panic at the mention of her eldest daughter. “That crazed bitch took Izzy?” Rhiannon pursed her lips. “Ooops. Bercelak warned me not to tel you that part.”

“But you did! You did tel me!”

“Now you’re yel ing at me?”

Dagmar stood. “Everyone stop. Right now.” She motioned to Ásta. “Commander, if you would excuse us.” Trying to shake off whatever Rhiannon had done to her, Ásta got to her feet and walked to the door.

“And could you take the children back to Ebba please?”

The children jumped down from their grandmother and charged out of the room, Ásta fol owing and closing the door behind her while Keita helped Ren into a chair.

Once al had calmed down, Dagmar looked to the She-dragon queen in human form. “Now, my liege. Perhaps you could explain what the battle-f*ck is going on.”

Rhona kissed her father good-bye and left him at the base of the large hil he cal ed home. He didn’t like staying at Devenal t Mountain, had no desire to reside by the lake with the Cadwaladr Clan, and he didn’t like sleeping in a bed like a human. So he found and dug out his own place in a hil no more than ten miles or so from the Garbhán Isle gates and was as happy as any dragon could be. Her father was an uncomplicated male, easily pleased but just as easily annoyed. And, like most of his volcano-loving kind, he was even more solitary than the Fire Breathers.

Walking through the nearby town, desperate to get to sleep, she passed a pub. It sounded as if everyone inside was having quite a good time, but she kept walking. She wanted to be up early tomorrow and on her way before the two suns were high in the sky.

And Rhona knew what would happen if she went into that pub. Wel , what would happen besides the drinking.

The pub door slammed open and Rhona picked up her step, hoping to get past before she was—

“Rhona!”

Strong hands grabbed hold of her and hauled her into the pub. Her aunts and uncles were nowhere to be seen, but the majority of her cousins, mostly the females, were in attendance.

Rhona was forced into a chair and a pint of ale shoved into her hand.

“Drink!” one cousin cheered. “And tel us al about the violence at the front!”

“Nothing happens here,” another cousin complained. “For five years, no one’s done anything and Mum won’t let me go to the Val ey. ‘You’re needed here,’ she says. Here for what? Watching those demon spawn twins grow tal er and meaner every day?” She leaned in and drunkenly whispered—which was real y screaming—“And by the gods those two are so bloody mean!”