The entire clan was silent, all of them staring at him until Zarah finally asked, “You’re a prince?”
“Aye. Izzy’s a princess, too.”
“How is she a princess?”
“Talaith is with my brother, Briec the Mighty.”
Everyone started talking at once and Éibhear couldn’t really understand anyone. But then Zarah snapped, “Quiet!” And they all were.
She leaned forward and asked, “Talaith is with a dragon?”
“Aye.”
“How did this happen? Was she handed over in sacrifice?”
“No one really does that anymore in Dark Plains. And no one’s forced Talaith to be with Briec. She’s with him because she loves him. She wouldn’t be with him otherwise. My brother’s too irritating for anyone who doesn’t love him.”
“Talaith loves a dragon?”
“We’re very loveable. Most of us.”
“And how does your dragon brother feel about Iseabail?”
“He adores her. Briec calls her his perfect, perfect daughter.”
Another of Zarah’s grandson’s folded his arms across his chest and asked, “And are you her perfect, perfect uncle?”
“Not by blood.”
“Did your brother adopt her?”
“Yes.”
“Then you’re her uncle.”
“Yes, but not by blood.”
“And that point matters?”
“Trust me,” Éibhear insisted. “It matters.”
“I should have realized you were my grandchild immediately,” Zachariah said as he poured Iseabail a cup of coffee. “You look so much like my boy.” And your mother.
He placed the cup in front of Iseabail and sat down across from her at his work table.
“I’m sorry I got so upset,” she said, her eyes downcast. “I just didn’t—”
“You were overwhelmed. It’s understandable.”
“I should get back to Éibhear.”
“No. You should stay here. Drink your coffee. He’ll be fine. The family will take care of him.”
She picked up the cup and held it in her hands. Zachariah studied her while she studied the cup. Mighty suns, his boy would be proud of her. She was strong, healthy, and beautiful. But there were questions Zachariah had. Ones he simply couldn’t wait to ask, even though he knew he should.
“Iseabail—”
“Izzy. You can call me Izzy.”
“Izzy, why . . .” He cleared his throat, tried again. “You may not know the answer to this, but why did your mother not come to us? When your grandmother threw her out? We would have taken her in. I thought she understood that.”
“It’s very complicated, I’m afraid,” Izzy sighed out.
“Complicated?”
“Well, anytime you deal with gods, it gets complicated.”
“Gods? Oh, of course, your mother is a Nolwenn.”
“I think being a Nolwenn had little to do with it. She just wanted to make sure she had someone strong enough and smart enough to do the task and that turned out to be Talaith.”
“Wait. Who is ‘she’ then?”
“Arzhela.”
“The goddess?”
“Right. She needed someone to kill Annwyl and just used me to keep my mother in line while Mum became an assassin.”
“Your mother’s an assassin? How the hells did that . . .” Zachariah stopped talking, thinking of everything the girl had just told him. “Did you say Ann . . . Annwyl? The Mad Queen of Garbhán Isle?”
“Aye. She hates when people call her that, though, so I wouldn’t. Besides, she’s not nearly as crazy as everyone accuses her of being. True, she’ll cut your head off as soon as look at you, but only if you’re an enemy. She’d never do it to family.”
“All right.”
“Mum tried to kill her, too, and Annwyl forgave her, then took us in. So my aunt is extremely misunderstood.”
“Uh-huh.”
“I’ll be honest, though.” She rested her arms on the table, her hands still around the cup. “I’m quite torn. If Mum had stayed here, I’d just be another Nolwenn, casting spells and making appointments with royals. But because of what happened to Mum, I’ve seen the world, led legions into battle, and I have a little sister I can’t imagine not having in my life. But I feel so guilty when I think like that. It’s like being glad all those horrible things happened to Mum and my birth father.”
“That’s ridiculous, and as a soldier you should know that. Making the best of what you have, of what you’ve been left with, does not make you anything more than human.” Zachariah studied her a moment, then asked, “Is that why you’re here, Izzy? To avenge your mother?”
“No. I need Haldane’s help for my sister.”
“And if Haldane doesn’t help you?”
“She’d be foolish not to be of help to me. The last thing she wants is the wrath of my grandmother coming down on her head.” When Zachariah frowned, she added, “My adoptive grandmother. Queen Rhiannon.”
“Rhiannon? Why do I know that name?”
“She’s the Dragon Queen of the Southlands and a powerful Dragonwitch.”
Zachariah stared at his son’s child. “That Rhiannon is your adoptive grandmother?”
“Well, when Daddy took Mum as his mate, the entire House of Gwalchmai fab Gwyar and the Cadwaladr Clan accepted both of us as their kin.”