Brannie pulled on a loose, white cotton shirt and soft cotton leggings. Her usual clothes for sleeping whenever humans were around.
“Maskini already sent out her troops. You gave them detailed instructions. I don’t know what you think we can do. We don’t even know this city.” Brannie looked over her shoulder. Izzy stood on the other side of the bed they’d be sharing, dressed in the same style as Brannie but her shirt was blue. “You’re anxious, Iz. Why?”
“Don’t know.”
Bran settled on the bed, her legs crossed. Izzy always got like this when she had to wait to go into battle. Like Annwyl, she wasn’t good with the waiting. Unlike Annwyl, however, Izzy could go ages without a good war to keep her busy. As long as she got in her daily training and spent time with her troops, she was fine. But when she knew a battle was imminent, Izzy hated the occasional delay that happened before she could dive in and start the killing. That’s when Brannie had to be careful because it was easy to start fights with her cousin.
“Don’t worry, Iz. We’ll get this cleaned up, get Elisa’s agreement about your sister, and take it from there.”
“Right. Of course.”
Bran knew her cousin had given up that fight much too easily, which made her think there might be something else going on. Something beyond all the doings of witches and sand.
“Are you going to tell me what’s going on?” Brannie demanded quietly, so as not to disturb the rest of the house, which had settled down for the evening.
“What are you talking about?”
“You. You’re anxious. Practically crawling the walls.”
“I’ve got a lot on my mind.”
“Does what’s on your mind have really big hands and blue hair?”
“Let it go, Bran.”
“You f**ked him, right?”
“So? It’s not like he’s the first.”
“There’s f**king, Iz, and then there’s something more. Or at least that’s what I’ve been told.”
“And?”
“And, it looks to me like you’ve got something more.”
“With Éibhear? Lord I-Can’t-Get-Too-Close?”
“He doesn’t seem to mind getting too close now. Doing it in front of your human kin, too. With all of them glaring at him. The fact he hasn’t run off screaming I find admirable.”
Izzy chuckled and sat down on the bed. “They probably don’t like him because he’s dragon.”
“They tolerate me well enough. Not an unkind word or terrified scream of panic yet.” Bran studied her friend. “You falling for him, Iz?”
Izzy snorted, shook her head, and said, “Come on, Bran. I fell for that idiot when I was sixteen. Now I’m in love with him!” Izzy grabbed a pillow and began to rip it into shreds, feathers flying all over the room. “Because apparently my life isn’t ridiculous enough!”
“Well,” Brannie reasoned, stopping to blow a white feather off her nose, “as long as you’re handling it well . . .”
When the knock came, Uther scrambled across the room—ignoring the fact that he was stepping on actual chests in the process—and snatched the door open.
One of Izzy’s aunts held a tray piled with food and drink. Although she looked ready to bolt at the sight of Uther’s overeager face.
“Is that for us?” he asked; then he smiled.
That didn’t seem to soothe her.
“Uh . . . thought you all might be hungry. And my father wanted to make sure you wouldn’t turn on us in the middle of the night because you hadn’t been fed enough.”
“Good plan!” Uther said, taking the tray from her.
Éibhear quickly stepped to the door and gave his warmest smile. “Thank you so much for this. We appreciate it. And you can tell your father he need have no fear of us.”
“Yeah.” She looked them over. “Right.”
Éibhear watched the woman walk away before he closed the door and rounded on his comrades. “Is there something wrong with all of you?” he demanded.
“Now that we have food . . . no.”
“You’re an idiot.” Éibhear stomped back across the room and, still fully clothed, dropped facedown onto the bed.
“What’s wrong with you?”
“I’m trying to ease the discomfort of these people, but you lot aren’t helping.”
“Why bother?” Caswyn asked around a mouth full of food. “It’s not like we’re staying here forever.”
“They’re Izzy’s kin.”
“She seems to get along fine with them.”
“Yeah, but . . . I’m just saying . . .” Éibhear growled. “Forget it. I don’t know why I bloody bother.”
“I have no idea what you’re trying to tell us, but you sound particularly pathetic.”
“What he’s trying to say,” Aidan offered, “is that he wants Izzy’s human kin to like him. Unlike his own kin, who can barely stand the sight of him.”
“Thank you for that. That was very nice.”
“What do you care if they like you or not?” Uther asked.
“Because it matters.”
“Why does it matter?”
“Because.”
“Because why?”
“By the gods of piss, blood, and death!” Aidan exploded. “Because he loves her!”