“He promised me that he’d help me defeat Thracius.”
“Thracius?” Lady Agrippina leaned back a bit and studied Annwyl. “You’re the Southland Queen? You’re Annwyl?” Her nose wrinkled. “You?”
“What were you expecting?” Annwyl demanded, tugging on her boots.
“From what I’d heard . . . someone hideous.”
Annwyl smiled. “Awww. Thanks.” Then she frowned. “Wait. You heard I was hideous?”
“Annwyl?” Rhona pushed, hoping to get her to focus. Gods, she was as bad as Izzy. But at least Izzy had youth and inexperience as her excuse.
“I’m not leaving my sister,” the king said again.
“Yes,” Lady Agrippina told her brother. “You are.”
“Aggie—”
She stepped away from her brother, but she was stil weak. Stil unable to stand on her own. Rhona caught hold of her, held her up. The She-dragon nodded at her in thanks. She was much more polite when her brother was around, it seemed.
“You have to go, Gaius.”
“You can’t even stand. How do you expect me to leave you now?”
“Because this is our chance. To end this. To end him.”
The earth around them shook, and Rhona realized that Vigholf had moved a boulder close so that Lady Agrippina could sit. He smiled at Rhona, quite proud of himself and she knew in that moment—she loved him.
Lady Agrippina sat on the boulder, and gave Vigholf a nod of thanks. Then she focused again on her brother.
“I want him dead,” she said plainly. “And I want you to do it. At the very least be there to see it.”
“I won’t leave you here alone, and you’re not fit to travel.”
“Leave a battalion with me for protection. Take the rest. I want this done, brother. I want Thracius. And then, when I’m ready, that little twat he spawned is mine.” She glanced at Annwyl. “Besides, we owe her.” She grinned. “She kil ed Junius.” Gaius, stunned, looked at Annwyl. “You did?”
“The wolf told me to.”
King Gaius frowned. “The wolf that licked your head?”
Vigholf stood next to her and said low so only Rhona could hear, “I never know how that head-licking thing is supposed to help us.”
“That’s because it doesn’t help us.”
“It wil take us days to get there,” Gaius argued, but Aggie didn’t want to hear it.
“I don’t care if it takes you eons. I want Thracius’s head!”
“Aggie . . .”
“I’m al right, I’m al right.” She tried to control her breathing, tried to calm down. She was running out of energy and fighting with her brother wasn’t helping. When she felt she could speak without panting, Aggie raised her head. “Look—” she began, but then the woman appeared out of nothing and, at first, Aggie thought she was seeing things again. Since her time in that slit’s dungeon, she’d been seeing lots of things. Some good, some a nightmare. To be honest, she enjoyed the nightmares more. It took a little more out of her every time she realized that blur walking toward her was not her brother or Varro.
Yet Aggie quickly realized that the woman walking toward them this time wasn’t a hal ucination because everyone else was staring at her, too.
She was brown of skin, like one of Aggie’s rescuers and like the humans of the Desert Lands. She was dressed like a warrior and wounded like one, too. Wounded like a dead warrior, though.
“Annwyl the Bloody,” the woman said to the human queen.
Annwyl pointed at the woman’s stomach. “Did you realize that someone disemboweled you?”
“That’l heal,” she said, walking around Annwyl. “My traveling companion says you need to get somewhere quickly. I can help with that.” A god. This woman was a god. They were chatting with a god. Things certainly had become interesting since Aggie had been rescued from her incarceration.
“Could you at least tuck your organs away?” Annwyl complained.
“You kil things al day.”
“But I don’t stand around talking to them afterward, their guts pouring out while I do.”
“So sensitive.”
Annwyl rubbed her eyes. “I’m tired. I’m very tired.” Now that battling the city guards was over, the Southland queen did look tired. Exhausted.
Aggie knew that kind of exhaustion.
“Yes. I see that.” The god studied Annwyl. “Too tired for this?”
Annwyl brought her fists down. “I wil end this. But I can’t do it from here. Send me or piss off. I’m tired of talking. Or send the wolf to deal with me. I like the wolf. He doesn’t bore me with talk.”
The god crossed her arms over her chest, leaving that gaping wound even more exposed. “I saved your life once. You could be a little more respectful.”
“You saved my life after your mate took it. And that was after he used my mate to knock me up without our permission. So don’t look to me for respect. I’m tired of you. I’m tired of him. I just want this over with. So send us or don’t—but just. Stop. Talking. ” While the god and Southlander glared at each other, Aggie looked to her brother. “This is who you sent to rescue me?” A lunatic who argues with gods? she finished in his mind.
“I’d run out of ideas, al right?” He shrugged helplessly. “Cut me some slack.”