by G. A. Aiken
Kachka stopped in the middle of what she was doing to that bear to slowly face Gaius. And, in that three-second time span, Gaius knew . . .
She was debating whether to kill him or not.
Kachka was searching out weak points on the dragon’s body when he said, “You do know that killing me really should be your last option . . . don’t you?”
“Is that because you are royal and think you are important to entire world?”
“Mostly . . . yes. But what’s significant is that your queen thinks I’m important.”
“You ask too many questions, and she is not my queen. Daughters of Steppes have no queen. No king. We live and die for each other.”
“I do not ask too many questions. I ask one. And if you have no queen, then why are you out here? Obviously helping her. Trying to get me, a useless royal, to safety? Willing to face”—his lip curled in distaste—“whatever that She-dragon was that removed that cursed torc from my neck? Why do all that if Annwyl is not your queen?”
Kachka didn’t answer, but the dragon thought he could guess.
“Yes. Of course. Your sister. She offered protection for your sister if you do her bidding.”
“I know that my sister is safe with the Mad Queen and the giant lizards. They actually like her. And, surprisingly, do not find her weak and pathetic.”
“That is big of them.” He stared at her a moment. “So you’re not in fear for your sister. You’re definitely not in fear for yourself. Then what are you doing?”
“Why do you ask, dragon? Why do you need to know?”
“I’m curious.”
“You should just be glad to be alive. If Zoya Kolesova had her way, we would have put you down days ago.”
“True. And she’s very—”
“Loud. Yes. We all know. I did not invite her. She invited herself.”
“I see.” Gaius studied the Rider a moment. “Kachka Shestakova . . . I owe you much.”
“Yes,” she replied. “You do.”
“How can I ever repay you?”
She faced him, her blade and arms covered in blood. “Give me your kingdom!”
Gaius smiled. “You’re adorable.”
“See? The royals. They say all this and they say all that . . . but they do nothing but lie.”
“We don’t lie all the time.”
“You owe me nothing, royal. But we are even for my sister, yes?”
“I never thought you owed me for that. Your sister needed help and I understood her problem better than most. That doesn’t lead to a tit-for-tat situation, in my humble opinion.”
She snorted. “There is nothing humble about you, royal.”
“That’s true.”
Gaius eased around the Rider, watching her as she cut the fur on the bear so that, with one good yank, she could remove it whole.
And, before he knew it, he was snuggled up beside her and on his back.
Although he had no idea why.
Kachka placed the fur aside and was about to cut down the bear when she felt something warm blowing against her bare arm.
She looked down and found giant dragon nostrils right by her. Leaning back a bit, she realized that the dragon’s long body circled her and he was on his back, exposing his belly.
“What . . . are you doing?”
“Proving I’m not slimy.”
“What?”
“You said dragon scales were slimy. As a matter of honor, I have to show you that’s not true. You’ll need to touch me, though.”
Kachka sucked her tongue against her teeth. “Men are disgusting.”
“I’m not a man. And I don’t mean that. Just touch my scales.”
“Touch them yourself.”
“I do. Every day. And they are fabulous. Now it’s your turn.”
“Go. Away.”
“You’re afraid to be proven wrong.”
“I do not care!”
“Then prove it.”
“Fine!” Kachka slapped her hand against his snout.
“Ow!”
“It’s sticky.”
“That’s blood. I just ate. Go down lower.”
“Disgusting.”
“I don’t mean that low.”
With a heavy sigh, Kachka walked around the dragon. His scales were the color of steel. His horns curled down and the tips pointed in toward the middle of his snout. His wings were tucked under his body. And his hair wasn’t nearly as long as the Southlanders, reaching only to his shoulders. It was also steel-colored.
She went under his forearm and pressed her hand against the scales.
That’s when Gaius Domitus giggled and turned away from her.
Kachka reared back. “What are you doing?”
“I’m ticklish there!”
“You are a king!”
“And ticklish!”
She made the rather long walk back to his snout and her bear. “Pathetic,” she tossed at him before she cut her bear down.
He rolled onto his belly, grinning at her, all those fangs flashing in the suns. “Now you sound like my aunt.”
He went up on all fours, shook himself like a dog, wings flapping against him, making a small whirlwind around them.
Kachka waited for him to stop before dropping the fur on top of the bear.
“How long would it take for me to get back to Garbhán Isle from here?” he asked.
“Days.” Kachka tied more ropes around the bear’s skinless ankles. “But old bitch can get you there faster.”
“The Dragonwitch?”
“Yes.”
“How fast?”
“Seconds. Just make sure you do not drink before you leave.”
“Drink what?”
“Anything worth drinking,” which Kachka felt was explanatory enough.
She finished tying the rope strategically around the bear carcass. As she did, she felt flames near her, but paid them no mind since they didn’t actually touch her.
She wound the rope around her arms to make hauling the animal easier, and turned, which was when she came face-to-bloody-chest with the dragon.
“I still haven’t thanked you for saving me,” said the dragon, now in his human form.
Kachka looked up into his handsome face. Horse gods in the field! How unfair that a dragon, of all beings, should be so handsome when human. She could overlook his ridiculous political leanings—as she did with most men—but she could never overlook the fact that underneath all that flesh he had scales.
Scales!
“Again with that?”
He took a step closer and soothing heat came off him in waves. “Yes. Again with that. If it had not been for you and your friends, I would have surely died. Or ended up in a worse situation than I was already in.”
“Oh. I see.” She thought a moment. “True. You should thank me. But we can fix now, yes?” She dropped the rope from her right hand, reached up, catching the back of the dragon’s neck, and yanked him down, taking his mouth hard, sliding her tongue past his lips and teeth. His entire body stiffened in surprise, and as soon as she felt him respond in kind, Kachka pulled back and pushed him away with a shove against his blood-covered chest.
“There,” she said, grabbing hold of the rope again. “Now you have thanked me, dragon.”
She walked off, pulling the bear behind her. As she moved, she did add, “I must admit . . . I thought tongue would be forked.”
She heard him growl behind her. “I am not a snake.”
“So you say,” she countered, grinning. “So you say.”
Gaius watched Kachka Shestakova drag that bear away, leaving a trail of blood as she did.
For a moment, a brief one, he was nothing but angry and annoyed. And then, suddenly, he was smiling. Still tasting her on his lips. Still feeling where her hand, sticky with bear blood, had pressed against the back of his neck.
Gaius took in a deep, wonderful breath.
The suns were shining. His sister was safe. He was alive.
; And Kachka Shestakova had the most delightful tongue he’d ever had in his mouth....
Chapter Six
Brigida stared down at the table in the far corner of her private cavern. It was filled with books on all kinds of magicks and potions and rituals.
She stared and waited until she knew she was no longer alone.
“Nina Chechneva, the Unclaimed,” she sneered, slowly turning to face the dark-souled witch creeping around the stone wall into her cavern.
The witch smiled, trying to hide beauty under all that hair and black stuff around her eyes. Trying to make herself look more terrifying.
“And you are Brigida the Foul. My dark gods have told me much about you.”
“Have they?”
“They have.” She moved closer, easing her way around Brigida. Like a jungle cat easing its way around its prey.
“They say you have great power,” the witch smilingly hissed, easing closer and closer. “Power that I must have!”
The witch spun and, using the power of that spin, rammed a blade up to the hilt into Brigida’s chest.
Brigida sighed, looked down at the blade, then back at the witch. “Really? That the best you can do?”
The witch stepped back, eyes wide. “I . . . I . . .”
Brigida snorted and flicked the fingers of her free hand, sending the witch flipping across the room and slamming into the wall—where Brigida left her hanging.
“I knew from the way me grandniece reacted to you that you were one of the Dark Soul witches. With your hell gods and soul stealing.” Brigida laughed. “I mean, that girl loves everybody. Even me. But not you.”
Brigida yanked the blade from her chest and made her slow way across the cavern. “I’ve been alive for a very long time,” she told the witch as she struggled in vain to free herself. “And I done that by being one of the meanest bitches on the planet. And no little Rider girl, not even four hundred years yet, is going to fuck with me.”
Standing in front of the witch, Brigida smiled up at her. “But I want to make sure you understand what I’m telling you.”
Brigida rammed the blade into the witch’s thigh, quickly silencing her screams with a thought.
“Now, see . . . could’ve put that blade right back in your chest. Could have cut your throat too. Didn’t, though. Maybe you think I just like torturing ya. And true. I do a bit. Because I am an evil bitch, yeah? An’ evil bitches like to torture. But that’s not why I’m keeping you alive, little Rider.”
Brigida shook her head. “I know what you’re planning. Get far from the Outerplains. Get them other Riders on their own. Kill them while they sleep and take their souls. I know you’re planning this . . . ’cause I would have done the same thing—a few hundred years back. But you’re not going to do that this time.”
She waved her hand, releasing the witch, letting her drop hard to the ground.
“Get up,” she sneered. “You gonna be an evil bitch, you’ve got to be ready to suffer for the privilege.”
The witch yanked the blade from her leg and snarled, “What do you want from me, old cunt?”
“You want to keep worshipping your dark gods and stealing your souls, little Rider? Want to be as powerful as me one day? Then your job is working with these Riders.”
“We do not even know what we are doing. How do you?”
“Don’t ask me stupid questions. Just do what I tell you.”
“And if I don’t?”
Brigida yanked the blade out of the witch’s hand and rammed it into her other thigh.
“Motherfucker!”
Brigida smiled. “That’s what.”
“What is your name, little boy?”
Talan glanced over at the giantess next to him. She was leering at him in a way he was entirely uncomfortable with!
“Talan. Prince Talan. Beloved son of Annwyl the Bloody.”
I can’t believe you’re using Mum, his sister laughed in his head.
Do you see the size of this woman? She could twist me into a braided loaf of bread.
Have some dignity!
If you’re not going to help—fuck off.
“Has she already promised you to another?”
Talan blinked. “Pardon?”
“Polite. My girls will like that.”
Rhi, who’d been pacing in front of them and wringing her hands, snapped, “Why did Kachka bring that witch woman here? What was she thinking?”
“When did you and Kachka Shestakova become such good friends?” Talwyn asked, uncaring about her brother’s current plight—as always! “If memory serves, she called you either the Brown One or the Weeper. Neither of which sounded like compliments to me.”
Rhi stopped pacing and faced Talan. “The woman is evil. We need to kill her.”
“The first time you dislike someone,” Talwyn asked, “and you want to kill her? When did you turn into my mother?”
“Your mother is a saint!”
Talwyn glanced at Talan, widened her eyes a bit, and mouthed, Wow.
“I think we all need to calm down,” Talan soothed before he turned to the giant next to him and barked, “And stop petting my hair!”
“It is so pretty. My daughters will like your pretty hair.”
“Look, I don’t know how things are run in the Outerplains, but I’m a Southlander and we choose our own mates.”
“Who would be foolish enough to let such a pretty boy choose his own wife?”
Yeah? his sister asked in his head. Who?
“You need Zoya to get sturdy woman for you. One of my younger girls would be happy to make you first husband.”
“Leave the pretty boy alone, Zoya,” one of the other Riders admonished.
“I promised my daughters I would bring them strong boys to make their husbands. He is good start, yes?”
Do something!
Rolling her eyes, Talwyn finally came over.
“Back away from him, female,” she said.
“And who are you?” the giant demanded. “No one! I am Zoya Kolesova of the Mountain Movers of the Lands of Pain in the Far Reaches of the Steppes of the Outerplains! You are no one but some Southlander bitch who dresses like Kyvich witch.”
Talwyn’s head tilted to the side. “Mountain Movers? Seriously?”
“Is this you helping me?” Talan wanted to know.
“But come on, Talan! Don’t you want to know if they actually moved mountains?”
“No!”
“Is no one else concerned about that woman?” Rhi screeched.
The twins shook their heads. “No.”
“How can you not be concerned?”
“We live with Brigida the Foul,” Talwyn reminded her. “That She-dragon is the epitome of pure evil. You don’t mind her.”
“Because she’s loyal to family. This family.”
“I think you’re being ridiculous.”
“You never listen to me.”
“I listen to you constantly. I just think that, at the moment, you’re being an emotional nutter.”
Rhi stomped her small foot. “For once, just once, I wish you’d side with me. Would that be so bloody hard?”
“What are you talking about?” Talwyn demanded. “I always side with you.”
“No. You constantly argue with me. You argue everything with me!”
“It’s healthy debate.”
“I don’t want a healthy debate. Sometimes I just want you to accept the fact that some bitch is pure evil!”
Then Talwyn did that thing she did that really pissed Rhi off. She blew out a breath and gave a dismissive wave of her hand. Their mother often did the same thing when anyone started talking about anything regarding her kingdom that had nothing to do with battle and war.
But Talwyn wasn’t their mother and Rhi was definitely not their aunt Dagmar. Which was quite evident when she suddenly punched Talwyn in the nose.
“You cow!” Talwyn yelled with her hand over her bleeding nose.
Talan tried to get off the
table to get between his sister and cousin, but the giant yanked him back and, to his growing horror, put both her big arms around his chest, pulling him close.
“No, no, pretty boy,” she said close to his ear. “You should never get between two strong women fighting. That is not your place. Your place is just to be pretty and satisfy one of my daughters.”
“Woman,” Talan warned, “get your hands off me.”
The giant laughed. “Look, comrades! He is so very saucy! I love saucy boys!”
By the dark gods, what is happening?
Kachka was nearing the main cavern when she felt her burden lessen a bit. She looked over her shoulder to see that the Iron dragon, in his naked human form, had picked up the bear and carried it over his shoulder.
“Trying to impress?” she asked.
“Of course! That’s what kings do. We either want to impress or terrify.”
“I like that you are honest.”
As they came around a corner, the old She-dragon limped her way into the tunnel. And moving slowly behind her was Nina Chechneva.
Kachka frowned, wondering what was wrong with her.
“Ahh, Lady Brigida,” the king said.
“I ain’t no lady, Iron scum. So say your piece.”
“Still haven’t let that first war go, have you, Brigida?”
“No,” the witch replied flatly. “So what do ya want?”
“I was told you can get me to the Southlands . . . quickly. Is that true?”
“Yeah. But what do I get out of it? I do nothin’ for free, Iron scum.”
“Can anyone just use my name?” the dragon asked . . . the air.
Kachka fell back to walk beside Nina. She sniffed the air. “Are you bleeding?”
“I do not want to talk of it.”
“Well, comrade, if it is your monthly, stuff something up there. These dragons and Abominations will have you half-eaten before you can hope to beg for your useless life.”
“It is not my . . . forget it.”
“Already done.”
They entered the main cavern and all of them stopped. And stared.