“Although…I doubt you could get him.”
“Oh, I could get him.”
“Really?”
“You’re all alike, Ren. Leading with your cocks, the head on your shoulders following stupidly behind.”
“How much, Princess Brag-a-Lot? Since you’re so sure.”
“Come now. That’s the easiest bet ever when a male’s involved.”
“That dragon is no ordinary male. His high opinion of himself doesn’t allow for any fun or unnecessary f**king. He has important things to do.
With important dragons, which you’re not. In his estimation, of course. Not mine.”
Laughing, Keita said, “Well, let’s see….” She tapped her chin and gazed up at the sky. “How about that gold chair you have?”
“You mean my ancient throne? It took me months to dig that up from the bowels of my cave, and it weighs at least a thousand pounds.”
“I’m not paying for shipping.”
“And what do I get if you lose?”
“Which will not happen, but…” She pursed her lips in thought. “How about that Magick-infused sword thing you wanted?”
“The Sword of Mallolwch?” She shrugged. “You lying cow! You told me you lost it.”
“No. I said, ‘It’s around here somewhere…I think. Maybe.’”
“You are the most deceitful—” Ren’s headed lifted, his nostrils flaring. “Smell that?” he asked.
Keita lifted her nose and sniffed before inhaling deeply. “Éibhear’s cooked meat,” she sighed.
“Éibhear’s cooked meat,” he repeated.
Together they scrambled out of the water, shoving each other, first in human form, then in dragon, trying to be the first to get to the delicious feast they were sure Éibhear had created.
Chapter Seven
Swords were strapped to backs or around waists. Battle axes and bows were tied to saddles. Beasts that resembled horses, but with curled horns and red eyes, pawed the ice-covered ground, anxious to be on their way. Pets that traveled by their sides were summoned with a whistle or a howl. Them that were once men were taken from cages and leashed collars placed around their necks. They’d lead the way like eager dogs, running on all fours, their wills long ago broken when they’d challenged those they never thought they’d have to fear.
A never-ending ice storm railed, but it didn’t matter to the likes of them. For they were on a mission given to them by one of their mighty gods.
They worshipped a few but were respected by all. Because when they was given a task, nothing, absolutely nothing, stopped them from seeing it through.
Their beasts mounted, their loyal pets at their sides, them that were men running nearly on all fours, the gates to their Ice Land fortress opened and they, like demons from the underworld, were unleashed onto an unsuspecting land. And they would follow the edicts of their gods even if it meant death to any and all who got in their way.
With the sound of mighty hooves pounding against rock-hard ice still ringing in her ears, Keita awoke to find Ragnar the Cunning staring down at her.
She squeaked in surprise and called out, “Evil rises from the pit to destroy me!” He frowned, but it seemed more out of confusion than rage, and Keita turned and buried her head against the scale-covered chest behind her. Ren stroked her back with fur-covered claws, and said, “Now, now, little one. It’s nothing to fear. Just a scary North Dragon with plans to destroy all that you love.”
She shuddered and whispered loud enough for all to hear, “He frightens me. Make him go away.”
“Shoo!” Ren said, forcing Keita to bury her snout deeper into his chest to prevent the burst of laughter bubbling up her throat. “Shoo!”
“We leave in five minutes.”
“We’ll be ready,” Ren promised.
When the Lightning had stomped off, barking orders at his kin, Ren snorted a laugh, and Keita giggled into his chest.
“Would you two cut it out?” Éibhear chastised, busy cleaning up the campsite. “You’re being intolerable.”
Keita rolled onto her back and frowned at her talons when she realized one had a crack at the tip. “Who? Us?”
“Yes. You. This could only be worse if Gwenvael were here.” Both Keita and Ren sighed. “Ahhh, Gwenvael,” she said.
“Good times,” Ren added.
“Aye. That they were. The three of us together, causing mayhem wherever we went.” Keita sat up, one forearm draped over her knee. “He’s not really mated, is he?”
“He is. And she’s amazing,” Éibhear said.
Keita glanced at Ren, gave him a little wink. Éibhear was at the stage where everyone was amazing or interesting or beautiful. Of course, Keita had grown out of that stage less than a year after hatching and, if she had been told correctly, her eldest brothers, Fearghus and Briec, never went through that stage at all. So perhaps Éibhear was making up for all of them.
Except, of course, Morfyd. Perfect, untainted, loving Morfyd.
“She’s ever so smart. Extremely smart.”
“Reads a lot, does she?” Ren asked, prompting Keita to elbow him in the ribs.
“She does. But it’s not just that. She’s insanely logical. Not like you at all, Keita.”
Ren, who’d been sitting up, fell back laughing while Keita threw her claws up.
“I’ll have you know I’m extremely logical.”