Exactly someone like Annwyl would need.
Convinced she was right, Talaith let out a deep sigh of relief, only to choke on it as a black horned head appeared from around the corner Annwyl and Fearghus had only moments before disappeared behind. Long, long black hair brushed the ground. So as not to damage the surrounding buildings, he kept his black wings tucked tight against his body. His dragon body. And on that dragon sat an extremely happy and content Annwyl.
Panic and excitement vying for possession of her lungs, Talaith watched silently as Fearghus—and she knew it was Fearghus—took to the air. Her eyes tracked the couple—and they were a couple—until they passed another dragon.
“No, no, no. This isn’t happening.” Stepping away from her horse, Talaith stared up at the sky. There were so many! Dragons of every color flew above her. Some sat patiently on the silver-tipped spires of the castle chatting with other dragons flying around them.
From a distance, she hadn’t seen the dragons because they didn’t want to be. Most likely for defense of Garbhán Isle.
Placing her hand over her chest, she realized that yes, her heart did just stop in her chest. Didn’t she actually need that to beat? “This can’t be happening.”
Talaith needed answers. And she needed them now. She sprinted into the castle, pushing past soldiers and guards, through the Great Hall where they were already setting up for the evening’s feast, and up the stone steps. She found Morfyd and the others on the second floor.
“Oh, Talaith. Good. This will be your room.”
“Good.” Talaith grabbed Morfyd’s arm and shoved her into the bedroom. “Give us a moment, Iseabail,” she said to her daughter’s surprised face before slamming the door shut.
“What’s wrong with—”
“Fearghus just flew away.”
“Oh.” And she watched Morfyd try to hide that smile. Conniving, betraying bitch!
“That’s all you have to say?”
“Don’t yell at me, witch,” Morfyd snapped back.
“What do you expect me to do? You lied to me.”
“No. I didn’t.”
“You saw everything, Morfyd. You were in my mind. Uninvited if you remember. You knew about Briec.”
That damn smirk returned. “Aye. I did.”
“Then how could you not tell me?”
Morfyd’s eyes narrowed. “There’s that yelling again.”
Talaith’s eyes closed as she realized something. “Fearghus called you ‘sister’.” And not like witches called each other “sister”. But as annoyed siblings.“Aye.”
Which means…
Talaith headed back toward the door. “We’re leaving.” She’d take her daughter and go. She couldn’t stay here. Not now.
She had her hand on the metal door handle when Morfyd’s voice stopped her. “And where will you go, Talaith, Daughter of Haldane? Where will you take Izzy and think you will be safe? Annwyl seems to think it’s over, but we both know it won’t be over. Not until Arzhela is somehow dealt with.”
Morfyd now stood next to her. “But you’ll be safe here. Under my protection and the protection of my people. If you run now—”
“I’ll run forever,” Talaith finished for her.
“You both will. And hasn’t Izzy run enough?”
Talaith laid her head against the door. “But Briec—”
“Briec never comes here.” Morfyd stroked Talaith’s hair from her face. No one but Briec had ever touched her merely out of kindness. “He hates this castle. Detests Annwyl. And barely tolerates the rest of us. The farthest he’ll go is Dark Plains. Fearghus’ den. He won’t be here. And, if you wish, I won’t tell him you’re here. If that’s truly what you wish.”
She didn’t hesitate. “No. I don’t want him to know I’m here.” She’d worked hard the last few days to push him from her mind and her heart. To let him back in now would only lead to her broken heart when he was finally done with her.
“Then I’ll never tell him.”
Talaith, suddenly drained beyond all reckoning, pulled her door open. “Thank you, Morfyd.”
The one she now knew to be one of the rare dragonwitches her mother and the sisterhood spoke of in reverent tones—when they spoke of few beings that way—nodded and walked out. Talaith could hear her showing the men their rooms. But Izzy stepped in before she could close the door.
“Is everything all right?”
Talaith nodded, fairly dragging herself across the room to the big bed in the middle of it. She dropped back on it, ignoring her dirty, travel-worn clothes. “Everything’s fine, Izzy.”
The door closed, but Talaith knew Izzy hadn’t left. The bed dipped as Izzy stretched out beside her.
“I talk too much, don’t I?”
Talaith, grateful for the distraction, laughed. “We both do, I think.”
“Were you disappointed when you finally met me?”
Talaith turned on her side, propping her head up with her hand. “Of course not.” She reached out and took gentle hold of Izzy’s hair, running her fingers through the wavy, light brown strands. Her daughter never let her soft hair get too long. It barely touched her shoulders and already she complained it was getting “unruly”.
“You remind me so much of your father.”
“Is that good or bad?”