by Aiken G. A.
Brigida was still making her very slow way across the chamber toward the Queen.
Addolgar was about to storm around her one way while Bercelak went the other, but Ghleanna caught them both by the hair and yanked them back.
“But—” Addolgar began.
“We follow,” Ghleanna whispered.
“She’s moving like a snail,” Bercelak grumbled.
“We follow,” Ghleanna insisted.
So they did . . . very slowly. Painfully slowly. Addolgar hadn’t known anything could move that slowly and still be moving.
Even stranger, though, was the fact that everyone waited for Brigida. They watched. They waited. They moved out of her way. The She-dragon was clearly feared by one and all in this hall.
Except Braith, he realized. She’d been the only one he’d ever met, even among his kin, willing to brazenly, as Brigida called it, “back talk” her.
He found something rather endearing about that. Well . . . maybe not endearing. But charming. No. Not charming.
Cute. It was cute. She was cute. Very, very cute.
“Stop staring at her!” Ghleanna whispered.
“Huh?”
“At Braith,” she continued to whisper. “Stop staring at her like you’re planning to kill her yourself.”
“Was I?”
“What’s wrong with you?”
“That is such an open-ended question,” Bercelak scoffed.
“Nothing,” Addolgar replied. “I was just thinking.”
“About what?”
“How cute she is,” he answered honestly.
Bercelak stopped. “Brigida?”
Addolgar thought on that a moment. “I don’t know if I’d call Brigida cute. Would you, Ghleanna?”
Ghleanna stopped, covered her eyes with her claws. “You two have to be the dumbest centaur-fuckers ever.”
“Gods, you are so hostile,” Bercelak complained.
“I was thinking that,” Addolgar agreed.
Braith didn’t know what Ailean’s offspring were doing. They kept stopping and bickering. Stopping and bickering. Even worse, they kept whispering—but they were in a cave chamber . . . everyone could hear them.
And, at first, Braith thought that Addolgar was suggesting she was cute but then Bercelak mentioned Brigida . . . ?
Was this really how the end of her life would look? Really?
“You must have faith,” Bram said low, his voice managing not to carry.
“Faith? In what?”
His smile was small but there. “In them.”
Perhaps Bram the Merciful was right. The Cadwaladrs were known to successfully manage two things—fix things completely or make them a thousand times worse.
And since she didn’t see how any of this could get worse . . .
“My Queen!” Brigida greeted Addiena when she finally arrived before her throne. “How good to see you looking so well.”
“And you . . . you look . . .” Addiena let out a breath. “So what brings you here, dear Brigida the White?” Only the title one received at hatching was used while in the Queen’s chamber. But Braith was sure everyone was thinking “foul.”
“Ahh, my dear sweet Majesty. I’ve come here to offer my assistance in such a trying time.”
“Trying time?” the Queen asked.
“The betrayal of Elder Emyr. How horrifying for you. That such betrayal was going on here, right under your beautiful snout.”
The Queen’s eyes narrowed into slits and Braith began wondering again if anyone would actually claim her headless corpse or if it would be tossed off the side of Devenallt Mountain.
“Even his poor daughter, Braith here, has no idea why her father did this. Or that he was about to do it. She was trapped in his horrible web of deceit and lies.” Brigida reached over and patted Braith on the shoulder. She’d flinched away, but a claw on her opposite side from Bram kept her from moving anywhere. “He’s betrayed us all, my lady.”
“And what do you suggest we do about that?”
“He must be caught and brought back for trial as soon as possible. There is no other way. You must try and convict Elder Lord Emyr. No one else can do it but you, Your Majesty . . . and Elder Lord Emyr himself must know the true wrath of your domain.” Brigida’s head tilted to the side and the entire chamber cringed at the sounds coming from her old neck. “Don’t you agree, Your Majesty?”
The Queen studied Brigida for a long moment, her mind turning, searching—desperately, by the looks of it—for a way out of this. She wanted an execution and she wanted one now. But Brigida the Foul had made a very good point. To execute Emyr’s daughter—who hadn’t been caught while escaping with her kin, but debating what to do next with the loyal Cadwaladrs—rather than Emyr himself, would put a dark stain on Queen Addiena’s reign.
Since, Braith was guessing, there would be many dark stains Addiena had to worry about during her reign, she was most likely weighing whether having Braith’s head now would be worth it later.
Braith, however, wouldn’t bother to get her hopes up. She had no faith in . . . anything at the moment. So she just stood there, waiting for the ax to fall—literally and figuratively—until she felt something brush against her spine. She glanced behind her and saw Addolgar. He gave her a small wink and the tiniest smile, and, Braith would be forced to admit, she’d never felt so . . . safe before. Not safe in the sense that her head would not go rolling across the chamber floor, but just that someone, other than herself or her still-missed mother, actually cared for her. That someone was watching out for her.
And that someone was Addolgar.
“You have a very good point, Brigida the White,” Addiena finally stated. “But what will I do with Braith the Blue?”
“My liege,” Brigida practically purred, “that’s very simple.” She focused those cold, dead eyes at Braith, sending a chill down her spine. “We send Braith the Blue to bring back her father—dead or alive.”
Addolgar had his claw on Braith’s back so he felt her entire body go rigid at Brigida’s words. And he understood why. He wouldn’t want to have to hunt down his father either. Mostly because his father scared him a little and Addolgar was quite sure the old dragon would kick his ass, but still . . .
“Me?” Braith said. “You want me to hunt my father?”
It was the perfect reaction, wasn’t it? The perfect reaction for the Queen. To see Braith’s fear, her absolute horror at the prospect. If she’d been eager, the Queen would have immediately said no. But there was no eagerness there—and the Queen loved it. She lived on others’ misery.
“Aye,” the Queen said, her smile so wide, her bright white fangs nearly blinding everyone in the entire chamber. “You will hunt your father. Hunt him down and bring him to me. Or,” she added for good measure, “I’ll assume you were part of all this.”
The Queen leaned in a bit, the tip of her tail eagerly scratching against the stone flooring. “That you were a part of it . . . and anyone who may have helped you was part of it as well.”
Braith’s mouth dropped open in shock that the Queen was openly threatening all the Cadwaladrs who’d been at Ailean’s castle during her stay, and she immediately looked to Addolgar, then Ghleanna. She glanced at Bercelak, but quickly sneered, before moving her gaze back to Addolgar. She stared at him for several seconds before focusing again on the Queen.
“Your Majesty—” Braith began.
“She’ll do it,” Addolgar quickly said for her, terrified she was going to do something stupid and “honorable.”
Braith glowered at Addolgar. “What are you doing?” she demanded between clenched fangs.
“Stopping you from being an idiot.” He grinned at the Queen. “She’ll do it, Your Majesty. And I’ll go with her to assist in bringing this traitor to justice.”
“I cannot hunt down my own—”
Braith’s eyes grew wide, her claws reaching for her throat.
“Aunt Brigida?” Addolgar pushed.
The
old She-dragon smirked while Braith tried desperately to breathe. “Yes, dear?”
The invisible binding around her throat disappeared, and Braith took in big gulps of air. She really hated when Brigida did that to her.
“Aye,” the Queen said, her grin even wider than before. “This is all a very good idea.”
Cruel, heartless bitch. No wonder Princess Rhiannon hated her mother. Now Braith hated Rhiannon’s mother, too.
Bad enough asking her to hunt down her own father but to threaten the Cadwaladrs merely for helping Braith . . . where was the honor in that? Braith’s mum would have asked.
“Glad I could be of service to you, my Queen,” Brigida replied, her grin showing several rows of fangs, proving she had to be one of the oldest mortal She-dragons living.
“But wait,” the Queen said when Brigida began to slowly turn to leave. “You know, I think I’d feel better if I had a little extra protection.”
“Extra protection?” Brigida asked, casting her gaze over the armed and well-trained Queen’s Guard that surrounded the Queen and filled the chamber.
“Aye!” She pointed. “Ghleanna can stay. She can help keep me safe.” She lowered her head, those blue eyes on Braith. “Keep me confident.”
“Ghleanna?” Addolgar asked. “Yeah. All right.”
Braith faced him. “Are you mad?”
“Mad at what?”
She briefly gritted her fangs. “You cannot leave your sister here, Addolgar.”
“Why not?” He looked at Ghleanna. “You don’t mind, do you?”
Ghleanna shrugged. “Nah.”
“See? She doesn’t mind.”
“I don’t care if she minds. We’re not—” Braith stopped to yank the walking stick from Brigida’s claw. “Choke me again, old hag, and I will beat you to death with this thing!” She turned back to Addolgar. “Now, we are all leaving here together or I’m—”
“Just go,” Ghleanna pushed. “I’ll be fine.”
“Yes, but—”
“If you’re worried,” Bercelak sighed out, “I can stay with her.”
Ghleanna blinked. “I don’t need you to stay with me.”
“I didn’t ask if I could stay with you. But I’m staying with you.”
“Piss off,” Ghleanna told her brother.
“You piss off.”
That’s when Ghleanna pushed Bercelak. Who pushed her back. So she punched his shoulder. Bercelak went to punch her shoulder, but Ghleanna caught him by the wrist and twisted his forearm around his back. He reached back with his free forearm and caught her by the hair. Then they were a rolling, pummeling mass of black dragon scales thundering across the throne room floor.
Brigida snatched back her walking stick from Braith and headed toward the exit. “Come along, you two,” she called back. “We have much work to do.”
“Wait!” the Queen called out. “You can’t leave us alone with two battling Cadwaladrs!”
“Don’t worry, Your Majesty,” Addolgar explained while gripping Braith’s forearm and dragging her toward the exit. “Once they knock each other out, you’ll have hours of quiet before they start again.”
“Before they . . . what?”
Addolgar pulled Braith out of the chamber and around a corner. Even from there, he could still hear his siblings fighting in the throne room. He didn’t know why they bothered. Everyone knew that Ghleanna would beat Bercelak within an inch of his life.... She never bothered to fight fair when it came to her siblings.
After a time, Brigida came around the corner.
“Come along, you two,” she said again.
Addolgar quickly noticed that now that Brigida was out of the Queen’s sight, her limp seemed to have lessened so much that it was nearly nonexistent. And her entire body moved much more fluidly . . . as if she were considerably younger.
They walked in silence until they neared the mountain’s exit. That was when Braith finally spoke up.
“I can’t do this,” she said.
“You can and you will,” Brigida told her. “You’ll find that old bastard and you’ll drag his lizard ass back here.”
“He’s my father.”
Brigida stopped and spun around, her dragon body powerful and strong as if she were centuries younger. Even Addolgar’s parents didn’t move that easy.
“I don’t give a shit, Braith of the Darkness. He’s a traitor to this Queen’s reign and a danger. You don’t need to kill him, but you do need to bring him here.” She leaned in close and he saw Braith’s claws curl into fists. “Think of it as a matter of honor. Your father may be doomed, but the honor of your family line won’t be if you return him. And isn’t that what matters for the memory of your dear . . . mum?” she finished on a whisper.
Addolgar, claws quick after being raised among his kin, caught Braith before she could attempt to rip Brigida’s head off and end up a sad little frog or pet chicken.
“Good,” Brigida said with a big smile. “Glad we’ve agreed.”
She moved around Braith and stepped out of the mountain and onto the ledge. “You’ll track your father down. He and your brothers and that female who tried to kill Addolgar are heading toward the Northlands. He’s taking a longer, safer route than flying over the sea, so you do have a bit of time, but not much. You’ll want to grab him before he reaches the Northlands.”
“What about Ghleanna?” Braith asked, her voice filled with concern for a She-dragon who only yesterday had physically fought her.
“What about her?”
“I don’t feel right leaving her with the Queen as a hostage. Even with Bercelak here—”
“Bercelak?” Brigida laughed a little before unfurling her wings and heading up to the top of Devenallt Mountain.
Addolgar motioned to Braith and together they followed her.
This high up, it was cold on the mountaintop. There was ice and snow. And there were Cadwaladrs. They dotted the mountain like crows on a tree. And more kept landing. One after another after another.
Brigida faced Addolgar and Braith. “You see,” she said. “Ghleanna is not alone. A Cadwaladr is never alone.” The old She-dragon moved in closer, pressed the top part of her walking stick against the middle of Braith’s chest. “And you don’t have to be alone either. But we all make our own choices, Braith of the Darkness. And I’ve made mine. Now track down your father and bring him here.” Brigida stepped back, her forearms lifting away from her body. “Or you alone will be responsible for the civil war between the Cadwaladrs and the Queen’s Guard when we tear this place apart to get dear, sweet, defenseless Ghleanna from the bowels of Devenallt Mountain.”
“Dear sweet, defenseless Ghleanna?” one of the Cadwaladrs called out. “Since when did centaurs fly?”
Then all the Cadwaladrs laughed, including Addolgar. Because it was funny.
But the way Braith was gawking at him . . . he sensed she didn’t see the humor.
Chapter 10
They flew for about an hour before Braith indicated she wanted to land. She pointed at the ground and Addolgar quickly found a good, safe spot for them. They dived and landed hard in a clearing surrounded by trees.
Addolgar took off his travel bag, dropping it to the ground, and shook out his wings. He grinned at Braith. “We’ll make good time, as fast as you fly.”
She nodded and pushed her blue hair off her face.
“You all right?” he asked.
“Aye. I’m fine. Any water?”
“There’s a lake right over there.”
Braith stared off in the direction Addolgar had pointed out, but she seemed . . . confused. It had been an overwhelming day for her. True, she seemed invincible to Addolgar, but a bit of polite behavior couldn’t hurt. She was a royal after all, probably used to getting everything she needed handed to her and all that.
“You wait here,” he told her. “I’ll be right back.”
She nodded and looked off like she’d already forgotten about him.
Addolgar headed into th
e trees but quickly realized he’d forgotten his travel bags and the water flask he had inside. He turned back around and headed to where he’d left everything, but as he approached, he slowed down, his gaze on Braith. She was still staring off, but he realized she was breathing heavily. So heavily that, suddenly, she dropped to her knees, her front claws digging into the dirt.
Addolgar sprinted to her side, his forearms reaching around her.
“Braith? What is it?”
Panting, barely able to breathe, it seemed, she stuttered out, “I . . . I . . . I almost died. I almost died. I almost died.”
Then it hit him—she wasn’t invincible at all. She was, however, one of the strongest females he’d ever known. Because she’d lasted this long without having a full-on panic attack, and that was much longer than he would have lasted if he’d been in her place. Much longer.
Braith didn’t care that she was making a fool of herself. She didn’t care that she couldn’t breathe, that she was babbling, that she was wrapping her forearms around Addolgar the Cheerful and holding him tight. She didn’t care.
Because an hour ago . . . she’d thought her life would end on a cold stone floor in the Queen’s throne room.
Big claws stroked her back and hair, while he held her tight against his warm body, where she felt safe. It was the safest she’d felt since her father had summoned her a few days ago.
When Braith’s panting calmed down enough that she could hear again, she realized Addolgar was speaking to her.
“You’re going to be all right, Braith. We’re going to get through this together. I promise.”
Gods, he was trying to make her feel better. His sister was being held hostage, his entire family was about to start a civil war that could get them all killed, and he was being forced to track down a traitor outside of Southland borders with a panicking, pathetic female—and he was trying to make her feel better.
Appalled, Braith quickly pulled away from him.
“I’m so sorry, Addolgar.”
“Sorry? For what?”
“For being . . . pathetic. Weak. I’m of the Penarddun bloodline and I should have been strong—”