The wolf-god rol ed to his side, Annwyl’s hands stil on him, his tongue hanging out, his eyes closed, and a low growl rumbling from his chest that managed to shake the cave wal s.
“Shameless, ya are,” Annwyl told him, even as she couldn’t help but smile a little. “Bloody shameless!” Rhona was getting dressed when the cave wal s shook a bit. She glanced over at Vigholf. “Earthquake?” she asked.
“Sounds like it. But minor.” Finished pul ing on his boots, he stood. “I’m—”
“Yes. I know. You’re starving.” She laughed, shook her head. “Go, find food. I’l be along in a minute.” Vigholf left and Rhona closed her eyes and sent out her thoughts to her sisters. Any of them. Then her brothers. She stil heard nothing back and she tried hard not to panic.
But gods, how could she not? Annwyl told them the siege had begun—and Rhona didn’t real y want to think much on how the royal had known that when she’d been off in the Western Mountains before they had—and yet here Rhona was. In the Septima Mountains with a bunch of worthless rebels—hiding! A Cadwaladr hiding! Gods, what she’d come to.
“Have you seen Annwyl?”
Rhona opened her eyes and looked up. Izzy, freshly bathed and with clean clothes on, stood in the entrance to the private alcove Rhona and Vigholf had made their temporary home. The Rebels hadn’t seemed to care what they did. It was like they didn’t exist for them because their king was ignoring Annwyl.
“No,” Rhona replied. “I haven’t.”
“Okay. Thanks.” Izzy turned to go.
“Izzy.”
She stopped, faced Rhona again.
“What I said to you last night about not being my cousin . . . I’m sorry. You are kin and like most of them you’ve real y pissed me off. But that was an unfair hit, even for me.” She cleared her throat. “I sounded like me mum.”
Izzy let out a breath and stepped farther into the alcove. “You were just trying to protect your own and . . . I understand that. I stil don’t think it’s your business,” she felt the need to add. “But I do understand it. And I’m sorry if I snapped.” Rhona got to her feet, picking up the chain-mail shirt her father had made for her. “Now you see, Izzy, that’s what makes you stick out in this family. You actual y apologize. You feel real regret. How can you fit in with the Cadwaladrs when you do al that?” Izzy chuckled.
“I can assure you that those two idiots ain’t apologizing for a gods-damn thing. Instead they just fight. Constantly.” Shaking her head, Izzy said, “I didn’t mean for them to.... I was never going to tel .... I was just going to . . .”
“Enjoy?”
She flinched. “Yeah. I guess.”
Rhona pul ed her shirt over her head. “I wil say that you shouldn’t have expected any Cadwaladr male to keep his mouth shut about a conquest.
That was, I think, your only real mistake here.”
“No one told Éibhear. He sort of... saw us.”
“Oh. Wel , that’s awkward.”
“And then he went round the bend. Beating up poor Celyn.”
Rhona snorted. “Poor Celyn, my tail. I don’t feel sorry for either one of them. And you shouldn’t either.” She stood in front of Izzy. The girl was as tal as any She-dragon in human form, as wide too. A powerful y built female with a pretty smile. Gods. Those two idiots don’t stand a chance. “Do you love Celyn?”
“I love him . . .”
“But you’re not in love with him, yeah? And Éibhear?”
Now she snorted. “I’m trying not to love him at al .”
“Wel , I’m going to tel you what I’d tel one of my sisters. Think of your own life, Izzy. Think about what you want. Now. Don’t let them two throw you off course. They’ve got some growing up to do, and so do you. Do that first and then worry about the rest of it.”
“Iz!” Brannie cal ed out. “Annwyl’s back.”
“Let’s go and deal with our mad queen.”
“Thanks, Rhona.”
“Yeah, sure. Now go on. I’l be right out.”
Izzy walked out and Rhona grabbed her weapons, putting them on before she fol owed. Vigholf stood outside the alcove, eating a turkey leg and grinning down at her.
“Eavesdropping, Northlander?”
“Just listening to someone handle an awkward situation bril iantly.” He grinned. “Babysitter.”
“Oh, shut up with that.”
Varro walked around the corner and that’s when he came face-to-face with the crazed queen.
“Where is he?”
“If you mean King Gaius—”
“Look,” she said, dropping her hands onto his shoulders. “I don’t have time for games. Where is he?” Varro pushed her hands off him and walked around her. “Gaius made himself perfectly clear yesterday. I can assure you that nothing has changed since then.”
“The open games are tomorrow, aren’t they?”
Varro stopped walking and slowly faced the queen. “What?”
“Today they have games of al the wel -known fighters. But tomorrow is the open games. Anyone with coin and the wil ingness to die in the arena can sign up. Yes?”
“Yes. How did you—”
“According to my mate’s father,” the unstable female—although she looked much saner at this moment than she had the evening before—put her arm around Varro’s shoulders, “I’m a right little brawler. So let’s have some fun with that, eh?” Rhona was in the middle of her meal when Annwyl crouched in front of her. The queen looked different . . . clear-eyed. Rational. Wel , as rational as she had looked before the war against the Irons.
“I’ve been told you’re an excel ent blacksmith,” Annwyl began with no preamble. “Is that true?”
“Did my father tel you that?”
“No. He just said you were missing your true cal ing. I heard from someone else.”
“Who?”
“Can we discuss that later? Are you a blacksmith or not?”
“Wel —”
“She is,” Vigholf volunteered for her. “A real y excel ent one who’s considering coming back to the Northlands with me when this is over so she can make weapons for my brethren.”
When the two females looked at him, he grinned. “Just trying to help.”
“You must be really good,” Annwyl said, “if you’ve got a Northland male singing your praises.”
“Northlanders don’t sing,” Vigholf felt the need to say.
“I can help you, Annwyl,” Rhona said, before Annwyl and Vigholf got into a heated discussion about what Northlanders do and don’t do. “Tel me what you need.”
“You can’t be serious,” Gaius argued.
“She’s the one being who could possibly get Aggie away from Vateria. A mad bitch against an evil one. This plan . . . it could work.”
“Or we could just be giving Vateria what she wants. Then she’d have Queen Annwyl and my sister.”
“Gaius—”
“No, we’re not doing this.”
“Why not?” Startled, they both looked up to find the queen standing at the cavern entrance, watching them.
“Because no matter what the world says about me,” Gaius explained, “I’m not that much of a monster to turn a female, any female, over to my cousin. She especial y likes females to . . . play with.”
“You may not be that much of a monster”—Annwyl grinned—“but I am.” She walked into the cavern. “First off . . . I’m sorry about what I said yesterday.” She shrugged. “My head hurt.”
Probably from all those voices screaming in there. But Gaius only said, “I understand.”
“You know . . . I have twins. Talan and Talwyn. Al they do is fight. Constantly.” Her smile was warm. “But don’t try to get between them. Or, even worse, don’t hurt one and think the other wil let you get away with it. Talwyn can be clear across the castle grounds or on a different floor, and she’l know when Talan’s in trouble. She feels it. I know she does.”
Annwyl stood in front of him, her hand reaching out, cal oused fingers cupping his cheek. “I understand how much you hurt, Gaius. And how scared you are for her. But you can’t let that fear stop you from taking this chance to get her out. We have to get her out.”
“Why? Why do you want to get her out so badly?”
“It’s complicated. But to do what I need to do, to get what I need, I have to help you first. Let me.”
“I send you in there, Annwyl, I’m sending you to your death. And that’s if you’re lucky.”
“I stopped fearing death a long time ago. You know . . . after I actual y died. It changes your perspective.” She frowned and added, “Vateria’s destroying your sister as we speak. So I help you. . . . Then you help me. An al iance, of sorts.”
“You control the entire Southlands, and yet you’re wil ing to risk your life doing this?”
“Because I’l do whatever it takes to protect my twins. And we both know that if Thracius wins, they won’t live long.” Gaius glanced at Varro, but his friend was leaving it al up to him. But before Gaius could agree—and they al knew he would because he’d run out of choices—he noted, “You seem different today, Annwyl.”
“Yeah. The wolf licked my head.”
The two friends looked at each other again, but this time there was definitely more panic involved.
“What?” Gaius asked.
“My head always feels better after he licks it. Although I’m hoping that won’t be necessary anymore once I get some real sleep.”
“And do wolves always . . . lick your head?”
“No. Just this one. I’m hungry,” she sighed and walked away. “Hope you don’t mind,” she tossed back at him. “We’re using your forge.”
“At this point,” Varro admitted, “I usual y tel you that it could be worse. But honestly, I can’t even . . . there’s just no . . . I’m at a loss!” So was Gaius, but as king, he couldn’t real y say that out loud.
Chapter 29
Edana saw them too late. Somehow they’d slipped past them al and made their way to the tunnels.
When she realized, she charged after them, Breena and Nesta fol owing without question. She was able to trip one with her tail, then bring down her broadsword, splitting his spine.
She fol owed after her sisters, who’d kept after the other three Elites. They were nearing the exit, and Edana didn’t want to lose them in the forests.
“Stop them!” she yel ed at her sisters. “Don’t let them out!”
Nesta tackled one of the Elites from behind. Once on the ground, she used a dagger to open his throat. Breena flew over the head of another and met him head-on with her knife.
But the last one . . .
Snarling, Edana went after him. He was nearing the exit and she didn’t think she’d reach him in time. But she saw her cousins near the exit. The problem was . . . it was Celyn and Éibhear. And they were gods-damn fighting again!