by Aiken G. A.
“What the hells was that?”
Keeley opened her eyes and looked at Caid’s brother. “Oh. Sorry.”
Snarling, Quinn stalked back to camp and Keeley motioned to the wolf still resting on Caid.
“Piss off with you,” she said sweetly. “You’re making Caid uncomfortable.”
Those disturbing eyes of some hell flickered over to him, then away. With a loud, dramatic sigh, the creature rose to its feet and trotted off after Quinn.
Caid kissed Keeley’s forehead and asked, “You knew that was Quinn when you threw the blade at him, didn’t you?”
“Oh, yes. I knew.”
* * *
Dressed with her weapons strapped to her back and around her hips, Keeley began to walk to camp, but Caid caught her around the waist and pulled her in close.
“Is this over before it’s barely begun?” he asked.
“Not for me, but . . .”
“But what?”
“Can’t speak for you, can I?”
He frowned, appearing confused. “Keeley . . . do you expect me to be like human men?”
“I guess I do.”
“Except I’m not human.”
“Which means what? To me, I mean.”
“That, like it or not, my heart belongs to you. So if your interest was only in one night—”
More excited than she could say, Keeley didn’t let him finish his grand speech but instead threw herself into his arms and kissed him.
“Are you sure this is what you want?” he asked, laughing, when she pulled away.
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because . . . I’m not human. You have to remember that, Keeley, because trust me when I say . . . everyone else will remember it for you.”
* * *
Gemma had just watched Samuel saddle her horse when her sister returned with Caid. The pair said nothing to each other and weren’t even holding hands, but Gemma knew that things had changed between them.
She’d rather that hadn’t happened. She’d rather things were simple and clear-cut. At least until they got Keeley onto her throne, but that was just not how life worked. At least not for her family.
“You and Laila,” Quinn muttered to her, “such looks of disapproval between the two of you.”
Gemma glanced up at the big blond centaur. “Stop talking to me,” she ordered.
“But I find you fascinating.”
“No, you don’t.”
“No,” he agreed with his mad grin and little laugh. “I really don’t. But you do entertain.”
Gemma mounted her horse and waited for the others. They were heading back to the dwarves to give them their gold and, hopefully, get an army in return. It wasn’t nearly enough of what they needed, but it would be a healthy start. Gemma just hoped the dwarves were as true to their word as her mother and the Smythe clan believed them to be.
Keeley mounted the gray mare, which had returned in the night with Samuel, and looked around at them all. “Let’s move out,” she ordered, and set off. Everyone followed.
After just a few feet, Keeley called a halt and suddenly yelled out, “Gods-dammit, Keran!”
“Coming, coming,” their cousin returned, stumbling around the boulder she’d passed out behind the night before.
* * *
When they’d run from the wood elves’ territory and that angry volcano, they’d simply taken off. Not really caring where they were going. Unfortunately, to get back to dwarf territory, they had to circle around until they could get to another mountain entrance that would lead them back to the dwarf city.
But in making this move, they were forced to cross from elf territory into barbarian. A small section that Caid and hundreds of other centaurs had crossed on many occasions. From the elves’ woods into an open plain.
Only this time, instead of just moving right through and back into dwarf territory, they had to stop.
“What the hells is this?” Quinn asked, gazing out at hundreds of silent barbarians. Barbarians that had clearly been waiting for them.
They weren’t attacking or making their battle cries, but they were armed with their flint weapons and had on their war woad, the blue markings clearly visible even from this distance. The barbarians were also blocking them from moving out of their territory and into the dwarves’, so Quinn’s question was legitimate. What the hells were the barbarians doing?
Keeley dismounted and came to stand between Caid and Laila. “What’s happening?”
“We’re not sure,” Caid replied.
“Do they want something from us?”
“I think I know what this is!”
Surprised by the speaker’s identity, they all turned and looked at Keran.
“What?” she asked.
“You know?” Keeley raised an eyebrow. “You?”
“I know things.”
“Do you?”
“We’ve had barbarians in my fighter’s guild. I learned from them. So I think I know what this is.” Keran nodded when they just stared at her. “I do,” she insisted. “I know.”
“So what is it?” Gemma asked, now standing behind Keeley and sounding as disbelieving as her sister.
Keran began to answer but she turned abruptly pale, raised one finger at them, then quickly walked a few feet away so she could vomit in peace.
Keeley rolled her eyes. “Anyway,” she said, dismissing her cousin and focusing on Laila, “what do you lot suggest?”
“We’ve never seen them like this,” Laila admitted. “We either see them attacking like crazed animals. Or ignoring the world completely. This is”—she gestured toward them—“just strange.”
“Then I’ll go talk to them,” Keeley said.
“No!” the rest of them all said together.
“They are not friendly, Keeley,” Laila explained, “and those are their warriors. For all we know, they may want to capture you and force you into marrying their leader.”
Quinn pointed. “That’s their leader there. Torin-sa.”
“How tall is he?” Keeley asked, eyes wide.
“Seven and a half feet . . . or so,” Quinn guessed. “Maybe eight.”
“You are not helping,” Laila softly chided him.
Keeley shook her head, horrified. “I’m not marrying him!”
“Of course not.” Laila patted her shoulder as the barbarian leader strode purposefully into the center of the open field, between the two groups. “I’ll speak with him.”
“We’ll go with you,” Caid said.
“No. Both of you stay here with Keeley. I’ll be fine.”
Laila made her way across the open field until she reached Torin-sa. They began to speak and though Laila attempted to keep things calm, the barbarian leader continued to gesture in Keeley’s direction.
“Do you think this has to do with Beatrix?” Gemma asked.
“No,” Keeley replied with a slow head shake. “I think it has to do with the wood elves. I think they blame me for what happened to them.”
Gemma glanced at Caid in disbelief before asking her sister, “What in the world makes you think that?”
She pointed. “Because their troops are holding some of the half-melted bodies.”
“Oh, shit.” Gemma began to push Keeley back. “Caid, Quinn. We need to get her out of here now and—Keran, nooooo!”
But it was too late. Keeley’s still-drunk cousin had looped around and was now charging straight at the side of the barbarian leader.
He turned his head toward her just as she launched herself off the ground and slammed her sword directly into his neck.
“Oh, shit!” Quinn exclaimed, saying what everyone else was thinking. Poor Laila, blood splattered across her face and chainmail, was forced to turn and dash back to their side.
Torin-sa dropped to his knees and Keran yanked out her sword. When the barbarian fell over on his side, she stood in front of him, chopped off his head with one blow of her blade, and grabbed it by its hair.
She
held it up toward the barbarian horde and screamed at them. No words. Just screaming. Then she threw the head at the horde and sauntered back to her kin.
When Keran finally reached them, she smiled. “All done.”
“You’ve killed us,” Laila softly accused. “You’ve killed us all.”
“Gods, don’t be so dramatic.” She looked at her cousin. “Go on, Keeley. Take your horse. And walk right through.”
“What?”
“They won’t attack.”
“How do you know?”
“Do you trust me or not?”
“Not!” Gemma barked.
“I wasn’t asking you, trifling cow. Go on, Keels. Give it a go.”
“Give it a go?”
“I’m sure about this, Cousin.”
So Keeley started walking. Caid reached out to grab her, to stop her, but Keran caught his arm and held him with a strength that continued to surprise.
The gray mare fell in right beside Keeley and together they walked the distance between their group and the barbarians. When Keeley was no more than a few feet from the horde, they suddenly separated into two groups, allowing her to walk straight down the middle. When she’d made it halfway and no one had attacked, the rest of them followed.
They moved through the silent barbarians and all was fine until Keran herself stepped onto dwarf territory. That’s when the barbarians began to make a loud noise. Kind of like communal humming. It was disconcerting and Caid rested his hand on the pommel of his sword, ready for an attack even though they were no longer on barbarian lands.
But Keran looked at the leaderless warriors and snapped, “Stop that!” They did.
Putting her hands to her head, Keran complained, “Got such a headache.” She looked at Keeley. “I may have to throw up again.”
“Wait a minute.” Gemma gestured at the barbarians. They were just standing there . . . waiting. “What’s happening with them?”
“I’m not positive,” Keran admitted, “but I may now be their leader.”
Keeley lowered her head, but Caid got the feeling it was so she could stifle her laughter.
“What do you mean, may be?” Gemma demanded.
“I don’t remember all of the conversation I had with that barbarian back when I was in the guild, but it had been a long night, a bloody fight, and there was some drinking—”
“Och!” Gemma marched toward her cousin. “You barely remember this conversation and you put us all at risk?”
“I remember the conversation,” Keran insisted. “I just don’t remember exactly what it meant. What the final outcome was. Or the barbarian’s name. Or whether I fucked him.”
“I’m sure you fucked him,” Keeley muttered.
Keran laughed. “Yeah, probably.”
Gemma had her fist pulled back, ready to strike her cousin, but Keeley caught her sister’s arms and pinned them to her sides.
“What?” Keran wanted to know. “You can’t say I didn’t help!”
“You could have killed us all!” Gemma insisted.
Keran sighed sadly. “Must you always be so negative?”
At that point, Keeley just wrapped her arms around the screaming-and-threatening Gemma, picked her up, and carried her away.
CHAPTER 27
Caid knew something was wrong as soon as they entered the Dwarf King’s throne room.
Keeley had been smiling, holding Sichar’s gold, ready to hand it over to the king and queen. But their expressions were so dour it was obvious something had happened. And standing beside their throne and General Unroch was Hearn’s personal messenger, Henok.
Caid and the others held back while Keeley spoke with the royals and Henok.
“What do you think is going on?” Quinn asked him.
“How would I know?”
“Just asking.”
They stood in silence for a bit as Keeley’s expression grew darker and darker while she listened to Henok.
Then Quinn wanted to know, “So you attached to this one, or what?”
“None of your business.”
“Father won’t be happy. And who knows how long she’ll be queen before she loses her head in battle?” He thought a moment, then asked, “And are you planning to breed with her? That could be strange. What if the offspring have horse back legs but everything else is human? And they can’t shift? Or they have front forelegs instead of arms but human legs? What if they just have a horse’s head on a human body? Can she even marry you? She’s a queen, you know, and you’re nothing, so she may leave you for a human prince. Would that bother you? Especially if they have normal babies and banish your horse-headed baby from the territory.”
Laila, by this point, was pacing in front of her brothers; her gaze worriedly locked on Keeley. Gemma had her hands on the hilts of her two swords, her back straight, her body tense. Ready for anything.
Keran was asleep at the table, her feet up. She was snoring.
They’d left the horses, the demon wolves, and Samuel outside the mountain entrance. A good plan for many reasons, Caid was guessing.
“Do you think Dad would be happy with your horse-headed baby?” Quinn asked, either pretending he didn’t see how things were turning or truly oblivious. Caid seriously didn’t know which was worse. “I’m sure Mum would. She’d like to have a horse-headed grandchild. She’d be happy with that. So that’s good.”
His brother smiled at him and Caid was seriously considering pulling out all those pearly white teeth with his bare hands when the sound of metal ramming into metal snatched Caid’s attention away from his brother. Keeley was no longer standing by the dwarf king and queen but they appeared duly concerned. He followed their shocked gazes across the room until he saw Keeley standing over a massive steel anvil. Something he knew was not used for any blacksmithing tasks but, instead, as a symbol for all the Amichai dwarves. It even had a plaque on it, dedicating it to one of the top dwarf gods. Despite that, it was definitely solid metal and Keeley was currently battering at it with her hammer. Over and over. Her current rage focused on nothing but hitting.
Laila quickly made her way over to Henok and returned just as quickly. She motioned Gemma closer and told them, “Well . . . I found out what’s wrong.”
* * *
Keeley continued her assault on the anvil until she couldn’t lift her weapon anymore. Then she dropped it, threw her head back, and roared out.
She finally dropped to her knees before the roar could even finish echoing throughout the dwarves’ stone home.
Devastated and panting, she stayed on her knees, ignoring the sweat pouring from her brow and neck and pooling under her clothes.
“Keeley?”
Keeley quickly held up her hand, stopping Laila from coming any closer. And she did keep her distance but she continued to speak, which Keeley didn’t want.
“Your father is okay,” Laila said. “He’s going to survive. My father has the best healer taking care of him.”
“And I’m grateful, but . . .”
Keeley couldn’t finish. Of course she was worried about her father. About her family. But that wasn’t what had her raging. That wasn’t what made her want to tear this castle down stone by gods-damn stone. Not because the dwarves had done anything wrong—they absolutely hadn’t—but simply because she wanted to destroy.
“Then what’s wrong, Keeley? Tell me,” Laila gently pushed.
Keeley couldn’t say it out loud, though. She simply couldn’t.
But when she looked at Gemma . . .
“How did Straton’s men know where our family was?” Gemma asked Laila.
“Oh, uh . . . I’m not sure. Perhaps Archie told a friend—”
“Uncle Archibald has no friends. He trusts no one. He told no one.”
“So what are you saying?”
Keeley and Gemma stared at each other a long moment before Gemma finally said, “It was Beatrix. She did this. She sent that bastard after her own family.”
Laila gave a little s
hake of her head. “We don’t know that.”
“We don’t?” Gemma asked. “Then how did Straton’s men find them? Only Beatrix knew where the family was.”
“Trackers?”
“With you centaurs getting us there? Doing everything you could to ensure that trackers couldn’t follow us to Archie’s? You really believe that?”
“But . . . do you really think she’d do that? To her own family? Even to the little ones? The baby . . . ?”
When Keeley and Gemma did nothing but stare at her—silent, accepting the truth of what they believed—the centaur could do nothing more but fold her arms over her chest and look away.
But Keeley couldn’t look away. She had to face this. She had to make a decision.
“So what do we do now?” Keran asked.
“I think it’s finally obvious to all of us,” Gemma said. “We kill Beatrix.” Gemma looked at the centaurs they’d grown to trust and at Keran. And, each one in turn, nodded in agreement.
“Anyone who would do this to their own family . . .” Laila shook her head again as she still struggled to believe the truth. “She has to die.”
Gemma looked at Caid, undoubtedly thinking his support was the most important right now.
Caid gave a small shrug. “It would be hard but . . . it’s what I would do.”
Quinn simply nodded when Gemma turned to him.
And Keran growled, “Kin or not, the evil bitch has to go.”
Gemma finally faced Keeley. “Now are you ready to do this, Sister?”
Keeley gawked at Gemma for a few seconds before she said, “I was ready after she stabbed me.”
“Good!” Gemma turned toward the others. “Let’s all get what we need and—”
“But that’s not what we’re going to do,” Keeley added, slamming the head of her hammer against the floor and using the handle to help her get back to her feet.
By the time she was standing again, Gemma was scowling at her. “What do you mean it’s not what we’re going to do?”
“What part of that did you not understand?”
Gemma stomped toward her. “You can’t seriously be thinking of letting that little slit live!”
“What I’m not going to do is let her dictate my plans.”