“I will not be paying for whatever just happened!” she yelled.
Shaking her head, Dagmar headed off for her first meal before the Rebel King and his distrustful sister arrived.
Elina landed on her hands and knees, everything she’d eaten or drunk in the last twenty-four hours pouring out of her in great bouts of vomit.
A few feet away was Kachka, going through the same thing. And Celyn was nearly lighting the forest on fire as his vomit came out like lava, spraying the trees and decimating the spongy undergrowth.
“Oh, dear,” Brigida’s voice rasped, “I completely forgot to mention not to drink too much before we travel. The body just expels it.”
Kachka, the first to stop retching, fell back against a tree stump. She pointed an accusing finger at Brigida. “You hag,” she snarled. “You handed us four more bottles last night before you went to bed.”
“Did I?” Brigida asked. “How the mind fades with old age.”
“You did this on purpose!”
“Watch your tone, orphan of the Steppes. I’d hate to tear your tongue out by the root.”
Brigida quickly turned her head as the right side of her fur cape was sprayed with vomit-flecked lava.
Celyn stumbled toward the old She-dragon. “Don’t you threaten—” His words abruptly ended as he fell face-first onto the ground and stopped moving.
Brigida shook her head. “This is what you get for spending your life under your mummy’s tail, boy.”
She shook off the lava and began to walk away.
“Wait,” Elina called out as she pulled herself to her feet by holding onto the low-lying limb of a nearby tree. “Where do you go, old hag?”
“I long to see my homeland again. It’s been much too long. You lot can get back on your own from here. Garbhán Isle is just over that ridge.”
Elina tried to go after Brigida, but as soon as she stepped away from the tree, she was forced to drop to her hands and knees again so she could continue vomiting.
Once her system cleared out, she crawled over to her sister, dropping down beside her.
“She is so mean,” Elina said to Kachka.
“I know.” She nodded at their mounts. “At least the horses are doing well. Even that big cow.”
“I call him travel-cow.”
“Fitting.”
“It is not!” Celyn screamed into the ground, still unable, it seemed, to get up.
“We cannot face the fancy Southland queen like this,” Kachka said, ignoring Celyn. “We may not be able to ever go home again, but I will not represent the Steppes as poorly as this.”
Elina listened for a bit, then pointed to the west. “There is stream or creek over there. We can wash up and change.”
Kachka nodded, and together the sisters slowly got to their feet. Once they were steady, they both walked over to Celyn. Each took an arm and they proceeded to drag the dragon in his human form toward the water.
“He weighs as much as that travel-cow,” Kachka complained.
“It could be worse, sister. He could be dragon. Then we would be dragging him for hours.”
After they finished cleaning up and changing their clothes, the trio mounted their horses and rode to Garbhán Isle.
Once they were in the courtyard, Celyn quickly dismounted and moved to Elina’s side. He reached up to help her and she immediately slapped his hands away.
“I am not invalid, Dolt.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“I do not need help. I have been dismounting horses since birth. This I can do.”
Celyn stepped back as Elina’s leg swung over the saddle. He barely missed being kicked in the head. She jumped down and landed just fine, but when she tried to take a step she walked into him. Spatially, she was still a bit off.
He stopped her from falling, but that only got him a little snarl.
“I am fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Do not question me!” she bellowed, shoving him back.
“Gods, woman! I am just trying to help!”
“I do not need your help. I am missing eye. Not head.”
“Elina—”
“Why must we debate everything?” she snapped.
Celyn glanced at Kachka and she gave a little jerk of her head. He understood. Space. Elina needed space. He understood that. He didn’t want to give it, but he understood. Besides, he needed to track down Annwyl before she saw Elina. Around this time of day, she would be training.
“Go inside,” he said. “I’ll catch up.”
“What about old hag?” Kachka asked.
All Celyn could do was shrug. “I’ll warn the family she’s back and . . . somewhere. That’s all we can do.”
Kachka nodded and together they watched Elina, who’d already walked off toward the stairs that would lead into the Great Hall, her gait still a little cautious as she moved.
“Give her time,” Kachka said to him, her voice low. “You tend to push.”
“I know. I try not to, but . . . I’m not good at not pushing. I’m Cadwaladr. . . . We push.”
Kachka smiled, patted his shoulder, which sent him stumbling a bit.
“You are good dragon. And my sister will be fine. She is . . . what is word . . . ?” She thought a moment. “Resilient. She will not let this hold her back for long.”
He knew Kachka was right.
With a nod, he went off in search of Annwyl, but he found Brannie first.
Shaking her head, Dagmar headed off for her first meal before the Rebel King and his distrustful sister arrived.
Elina landed on her hands and knees, everything she’d eaten or drunk in the last twenty-four hours pouring out of her in great bouts of vomit.
A few feet away was Kachka, going through the same thing. And Celyn was nearly lighting the forest on fire as his vomit came out like lava, spraying the trees and decimating the spongy undergrowth.
“Oh, dear,” Brigida’s voice rasped, “I completely forgot to mention not to drink too much before we travel. The body just expels it.”
Kachka, the first to stop retching, fell back against a tree stump. She pointed an accusing finger at Brigida. “You hag,” she snarled. “You handed us four more bottles last night before you went to bed.”
“Did I?” Brigida asked. “How the mind fades with old age.”
“You did this on purpose!”
“Watch your tone, orphan of the Steppes. I’d hate to tear your tongue out by the root.”
Brigida quickly turned her head as the right side of her fur cape was sprayed with vomit-flecked lava.
Celyn stumbled toward the old She-dragon. “Don’t you threaten—” His words abruptly ended as he fell face-first onto the ground and stopped moving.
Brigida shook her head. “This is what you get for spending your life under your mummy’s tail, boy.”
She shook off the lava and began to walk away.
“Wait,” Elina called out as she pulled herself to her feet by holding onto the low-lying limb of a nearby tree. “Where do you go, old hag?”
“I long to see my homeland again. It’s been much too long. You lot can get back on your own from here. Garbhán Isle is just over that ridge.”
Elina tried to go after Brigida, but as soon as she stepped away from the tree, she was forced to drop to her hands and knees again so she could continue vomiting.
Once her system cleared out, she crawled over to her sister, dropping down beside her.
“She is so mean,” Elina said to Kachka.
“I know.” She nodded at their mounts. “At least the horses are doing well. Even that big cow.”
“I call him travel-cow.”
“Fitting.”
“It is not!” Celyn screamed into the ground, still unable, it seemed, to get up.
“We cannot face the fancy Southland queen like this,” Kachka said, ignoring Celyn. “We may not be able to ever go home again, but I will not represent the Steppes as poorly as this.”
Elina listened for a bit, then pointed to the west. “There is stream or creek over there. We can wash up and change.”
Kachka nodded, and together the sisters slowly got to their feet. Once they were steady, they both walked over to Celyn. Each took an arm and they proceeded to drag the dragon in his human form toward the water.
“He weighs as much as that travel-cow,” Kachka complained.
“It could be worse, sister. He could be dragon. Then we would be dragging him for hours.”
After they finished cleaning up and changing their clothes, the trio mounted their horses and rode to Garbhán Isle.
Once they were in the courtyard, Celyn quickly dismounted and moved to Elina’s side. He reached up to help her and she immediately slapped his hands away.
“I am not invalid, Dolt.”
“I’m trying to help you.”
“I do not need help. I have been dismounting horses since birth. This I can do.”
Celyn stepped back as Elina’s leg swung over the saddle. He barely missed being kicked in the head. She jumped down and landed just fine, but when she tried to take a step she walked into him. Spatially, she was still a bit off.
He stopped her from falling, but that only got him a little snarl.
“I am fine.”
“Are you sure?”
“Do not question me!” she bellowed, shoving him back.
“Gods, woman! I am just trying to help!”
“I do not need your help. I am missing eye. Not head.”
“Elina—”
“Why must we debate everything?” she snapped.
Celyn glanced at Kachka and she gave a little jerk of her head. He understood. Space. Elina needed space. He understood that. He didn’t want to give it, but he understood. Besides, he needed to track down Annwyl before she saw Elina. Around this time of day, she would be training.
“Go inside,” he said. “I’ll catch up.”
“What about old hag?” Kachka asked.
All Celyn could do was shrug. “I’ll warn the family she’s back and . . . somewhere. That’s all we can do.”
Kachka nodded and together they watched Elina, who’d already walked off toward the stairs that would lead into the Great Hall, her gait still a little cautious as she moved.
“Give her time,” Kachka said to him, her voice low. “You tend to push.”
“I know. I try not to, but . . . I’m not good at not pushing. I’m Cadwaladr. . . . We push.”
Kachka smiled, patted his shoulder, which sent him stumbling a bit.
“You are good dragon. And my sister will be fine. She is . . . what is word . . . ?” She thought a moment. “Resilient. She will not let this hold her back for long.”
He knew Kachka was right.
With a nod, he went off in search of Annwyl, but he found Brannie first.
