The Dragon Who Loved Me
Page 94
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“Rhona?”
Rhona lowered her shield. “Mum.”
She expected her mother to rail at her about sneaking up on her rather than just apologizing for nearly kil ing her eldest. But, instead, Bradana the Mutilator pushed Rhona’s shield aside and . . . uh . . . she hugged her.
“Mum?”
“Your sisters kept lying to me and then when they final y told me what they knew . . . and I just heard you’d been with Annwyl. Gods, girl, we could have lost you forever!”
“I’m fine, Mum. Real y.” And, because she was just in that kind of mood, Rhona added, “And I’m in love!” Her mother tensed. “In love? With Annwyl?” Her mother shrugged. “Wel , you know, I’ve always thought . . . it doesn’t matter. The thing is she’s with Fearghus.”
“No, Mum.” And Rhona fought her desire to slap her own mother in the head. “Vigholf.” Bradana stepped away from her. “Vigholf? That . . . that . . .” An Iron tried to run past Bradana from behind, but Rhona’s mother turned, hacked the Iron into two pieces, yanked her broadsword out, and again faced her daughter, sneering, “That Lightning?”
“Aye.” Rhona patted her mother’s cheek with the tips of her talons. “That Lightning. Now if you’l excuse me, I’ve got to help the others.”
“Don’t you fly away from me, little girl!”
“It’l have to wait, Mum! Kil ing to do!”
Rhona flew through several caverns, striking at Irons where she could. When she reached the cavern where the tunnel was, she saw Celyn and flew to his side.
“Celyn!”
“Rhona!” He slammed his shield into the face of the one he fought, knocking the Iron out. “Thank the gods you’re here. It’s Éibhear.”
“Where is he?”
“Stil in the tunnel.”
“You left him there?”
“He wouldn’t leave.” He ran back to the tunnel entrance, Rhona behind him.
They both stopped right outside the entrance, Rhona taking in the sight of al those Irons. Wel . . . their corpses anyway. Elites that had been smashed and sliced and basical y turned into mangled messes their own mothers wouldn’t recognize—but that her mother would be proud of.
“See?” Celyn asked.
“Éibhear did this?”
“Just look.”
She stepped over or around the bodies and looked into the tunnel. Éibhear was stil at it, hovering over the col apsed tunnel floor and the rows of spikes beneath, while he used someone’s warhammer and a bare claw to kil , wel . . . everyone.
“He blames himself for Austel ,” Celyn explained behind her. “But, if anything, it was both of us.”
“Don’t worry about that now. Watch my back, I’l talk to him.”
“I’m right behind you.”
Rhona flew into the tunnel, her wings keeping her hovering over the col apsed floor. She could see Austel ’s body and her heart ached for her cousins. There was no pain like the first time one lost a comrade. And, even worse, she knew Éibhear wel enough to know that he’d put the blame for his friend’s death right on his own shoulders. If there was time, she’d sit down with him, talk to him. She’d make him understand that in war, they al had to watch out for each other, but there was always the risk comrades would be lost no matter what. That’s what she would tel him, if she had the bloody time—but she didn’t.
“Éibhear? Éibhear!”
The Blue, busy crushing the snout he had in his claw, slowly turned to face her. When the Iron he held stopped moving, Éibhear released him, letting the body fal . Rhona flew a little closer and that’s when she saw the ful number of Irons that hadn’t made it past Éibhear to fight the rest of the troops outside this cave. And that number was . . . impressive.
“You were right, you know,” he said to her and Rhona could see how much he real y hurt. “You warned me and I didn’t listen. Now my friend is dead.”
“Éibhear, stop. You didn’t kil Austel .”
“Of course I did. I wouldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop and now he’s dead and it’s my fault.”
“Éibhear, it’s not your fault. It’s not Celyn’s fault.”
“It is. It’s my fault.”
“Éibhear, stop this. Right now. Look, if you just want someone to blame, then blame Thracius.” Éibhear blinked, studied her. “Thracius?”
“Aye. If it wasn’t for him, none of us would have been here in the first place. But we can’t run around looking for who to blame, we need to—
Éibhear, no ! ”
Rhona watched as her cousin began to use the warhammer on the cave wal , battering it with big sweeping hits. Celyn flew next to her, but she caught him before he could make any attempts to stop Éibhear.
After several hits Éibhear flew back, unleashed his flame, and charged forward—and straight out a mil ennium-old cave wal that had withstood everything but the rage of a Cadwaladr male. Because, at the moment, that’s exactly what Éibhear was.
Vigholf and his troops were closing in around the Irons from one side, while Meinhard was closing in from the other. Fearghus, Ragnar, and Gaius were pushing them back from the center. And although this battle was turning, it would stil be a chal enge to get to Thracius. He was surrounded by a mighty legion of Elites and it wasn’t like he couldn’t fly away if he wanted to. They would give chase, of course, but that didn’t mean they’d catch him.
Rhona lowered her shield. “Mum.”
She expected her mother to rail at her about sneaking up on her rather than just apologizing for nearly kil ing her eldest. But, instead, Bradana the Mutilator pushed Rhona’s shield aside and . . . uh . . . she hugged her.
“Mum?”
“Your sisters kept lying to me and then when they final y told me what they knew . . . and I just heard you’d been with Annwyl. Gods, girl, we could have lost you forever!”
“I’m fine, Mum. Real y.” And, because she was just in that kind of mood, Rhona added, “And I’m in love!” Her mother tensed. “In love? With Annwyl?” Her mother shrugged. “Wel , you know, I’ve always thought . . . it doesn’t matter. The thing is she’s with Fearghus.”
“No, Mum.” And Rhona fought her desire to slap her own mother in the head. “Vigholf.” Bradana stepped away from her. “Vigholf? That . . . that . . .” An Iron tried to run past Bradana from behind, but Rhona’s mother turned, hacked the Iron into two pieces, yanked her broadsword out, and again faced her daughter, sneering, “That Lightning?”
“Aye.” Rhona patted her mother’s cheek with the tips of her talons. “That Lightning. Now if you’l excuse me, I’ve got to help the others.”
“Don’t you fly away from me, little girl!”
“It’l have to wait, Mum! Kil ing to do!”
Rhona flew through several caverns, striking at Irons where she could. When she reached the cavern where the tunnel was, she saw Celyn and flew to his side.
“Celyn!”
“Rhona!” He slammed his shield into the face of the one he fought, knocking the Iron out. “Thank the gods you’re here. It’s Éibhear.”
“Where is he?”
“Stil in the tunnel.”
“You left him there?”
“He wouldn’t leave.” He ran back to the tunnel entrance, Rhona behind him.
They both stopped right outside the entrance, Rhona taking in the sight of al those Irons. Wel . . . their corpses anyway. Elites that had been smashed and sliced and basical y turned into mangled messes their own mothers wouldn’t recognize—but that her mother would be proud of.
“See?” Celyn asked.
“Éibhear did this?”
“Just look.”
She stepped over or around the bodies and looked into the tunnel. Éibhear was stil at it, hovering over the col apsed tunnel floor and the rows of spikes beneath, while he used someone’s warhammer and a bare claw to kil , wel . . . everyone.
“He blames himself for Austel ,” Celyn explained behind her. “But, if anything, it was both of us.”
“Don’t worry about that now. Watch my back, I’l talk to him.”
“I’m right behind you.”
Rhona flew into the tunnel, her wings keeping her hovering over the col apsed floor. She could see Austel ’s body and her heart ached for her cousins. There was no pain like the first time one lost a comrade. And, even worse, she knew Éibhear wel enough to know that he’d put the blame for his friend’s death right on his own shoulders. If there was time, she’d sit down with him, talk to him. She’d make him understand that in war, they al had to watch out for each other, but there was always the risk comrades would be lost no matter what. That’s what she would tel him, if she had the bloody time—but she didn’t.
“Éibhear? Éibhear!”
The Blue, busy crushing the snout he had in his claw, slowly turned to face her. When the Iron he held stopped moving, Éibhear released him, letting the body fal . Rhona flew a little closer and that’s when she saw the ful number of Irons that hadn’t made it past Éibhear to fight the rest of the troops outside this cave. And that number was . . . impressive.
“You were right, you know,” he said to her and Rhona could see how much he real y hurt. “You warned me and I didn’t listen. Now my friend is dead.”
“Éibhear, stop. You didn’t kil Austel .”
“Of course I did. I wouldn’t stop. I wouldn’t stop and now he’s dead and it’s my fault.”
“Éibhear, it’s not your fault. It’s not Celyn’s fault.”
“It is. It’s my fault.”
“Éibhear, stop this. Right now. Look, if you just want someone to blame, then blame Thracius.” Éibhear blinked, studied her. “Thracius?”
“Aye. If it wasn’t for him, none of us would have been here in the first place. But we can’t run around looking for who to blame, we need to—
Éibhear, no ! ”
Rhona watched as her cousin began to use the warhammer on the cave wal , battering it with big sweeping hits. Celyn flew next to her, but she caught him before he could make any attempts to stop Éibhear.
After several hits Éibhear flew back, unleashed his flame, and charged forward—and straight out a mil ennium-old cave wal that had withstood everything but the rage of a Cadwaladr male. Because, at the moment, that’s exactly what Éibhear was.
Vigholf and his troops were closing in around the Irons from one side, while Meinhard was closing in from the other. Fearghus, Ragnar, and Gaius were pushing them back from the center. And although this battle was turning, it would stil be a chal enge to get to Thracius. He was surrounded by a mighty legion of Elites and it wasn’t like he couldn’t fly away if he wanted to. They would give chase, of course, but that didn’t mean they’d catch him.
