by G. A. Aiken
Confident in his decision, Ragnar tromped on.
Near the clearing that led to Esyld’s house, Ragnar stopped. He had been walking for little more than ten minutes, but still…
Turning his head, Ragnar looked over his shoulder. She sat in the middle of his back on her rump, her tail and wings hanging over one side, her crossed back legs over the other. She used a metal file to sharpen her talons—and she hummed.
How long has she been back there?
Ragnar had always prided himself on the sharpness of his senses. Hearing a rabbit’s twitching nose a mile away, spotting a hawk twenty miles above, or scenting fresh cattle a hundred miles off. But how could he not know that a spoiled royal was using him like a beast of burden? How could he not hear that gods-damn humming?
He geared up to shake her off, but she asked, “Where are we going?”
“I have some business to take care of.”
“Business? Out here? By yourself?” She lifted her claw and blew on her talons.
“I was coming right back.”
“Yes, but you might be in danger. I could help.”
Right. Of course you could. “It would be better if you return to my brothers.”
She slid off his back, her tail taking an enormously long time to slide up and over him as she walked around.
“Lord Ragnar, may I ask you a question?”
“If you’d like.”
“Do you not like me?”
Unsure where this might be going, Ragnar simply stated, “I thought our relationship was decided two years ago, princess.”
“But that was such a long time ago. There’s no reason for us not to be friends now.”
“Friends? You and I?”
She stroked her claw along his shoulder, down his chest, her talons scraping against the scar her tail had left. Part of Ragnar wanted to break every talon she had out of pure spite. Yet another, weaker, part of him wanted to close his eyes and moan.
“I know what you’re thinking,” she said, her talons now concentrating on that scar. “That I’m too good for you. And, of course among some circles, you’d be absolutely right. But I’m a very progressive royal and I don’t let little things like unimpressive bloodlines and barbaric tendencies stop me from having the friends I want.”
“That’s very big of you.”
“I’ve always thought so.” She pressed her claw to his chest, the damn scar under it angrily throbbing to life. “I’ve always thought it’s more important to have friends you can trust,” she murmured, “than friends who are merely your equal in every other way that matters.”
No. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t keep talking to this vapid, insipid female. No matter how much his body longed for her—and gods, was his cock screaming at him right now—it was beyond his capabilities as a dragon and a Northlander to put up with this female. And not only that…what in all holy hells did she think she was doing with her tail?
Ragnar slammed his back claw down on the princess’s tail before it slid any farther where it should not be.
“Ow!” She yanked her tail back and moved away from him.
“Sorry. Was that your tail? I thought it was a snake.” He caught hold of her arm and pulled her around. “Now if you’ll go back to my brothers—”
“Get your claws off me, peasant!”
“—I promise I won’t be long and we can discuss all your progressive views on peasants and royalty to your heart’s content.” He shoved her in the direction of his kin. “Now go, princess, before I’m forced to get—”
The crazed princess attached herself to his head and held on, cutting off his next words and making him sigh a little.
“What are you doing?”
“Obviously I’m beating you into submission!”
“Are you not the least bit embarrassed by this display?”
“Not as embarrassed as you’ll be when I’m done with you.”
Ragnar caught hold of her wing, pulled the royal off, and tossed her away.
She rolled and squealed, but quickly scrambled to her claws. She crouched in what appeared to be a poorly planned attack.
“Princess Keita, I wouldn’t—”
She charged him and again wrapped herself around his head.
Honestly, he didn’t have time for this. And it especially didn’t help that she smelled rather nice for a female who’d been trapped in a dungeon for who knew how long with human males.
He caught hold of her again, prepared to fling her as far away as necessary, but a voice beside them said, “She’s not there.” Ragnar recognized the voice of the foreigner.
Keita’s head came up. “What do you mean she’s not there?”
“She’s not there.”
While this vapid female had kept Ragnar distracted, the foreigner had gotten around them. Realizing he’d been duped, Ragnar yanked the princess off and slammed her to the ground.
“Och!” she yelped. “You rude bastard!”
Ragnar ignored her and raised his claw to the foreigner, unleashing a powerful blast of wind that would shove him back into the tree behind him and let him understand Ragnar was not to be toyed with. But other than the fur on his head getting blown back, the foreign dragon did nothing but stare at him.
Having witnessed the grass, leaves, and trees moving from the energy he’d unleashed, Ragnar glanced down at his claw and back up to the princess’s traveling companion.
“Oh,” the foreigner replied, sounding almost lazy with boredom. “Was I supposed to fall back, arms flailing, from that? Sorry. I’ll keep that in mind for next time.”
The princess giggled at that until Ragnar silenced her with one glare. It wasn’t being laughed at that bothered him; it was the power he didn’t sense coming off this dragon. A power Ragnar now knew the foreigner must have because he managed to hide it from him. Did the princess have any idea? And, for that matter, why would a mage this strong waste his time with someone so insipid? So useless? So pretty? Wait. He meant so stupid. Not pretty. Where did pretty come from?
The foreigner walked around him, helping the still-outraged princess to her claws.
“Are you all right?”
“I am not all right,” she complained. “That barbarian assaulted me, and in the process, I scraped my ass on some rocks.” She tried to see the damage but only managed to turn herself in a circle.
“Your aunt’s gone, Keita. Has been for some time, I’d wager.”
“That’s impossible.” She stopped trying to see her ass and opted for rubbing it instead. “Esyld never leaves her house except to go into town.”
“That you know of. It’s not like you see her every day.”
A moment of regret passed, her shoulders slumping a little, but then those brown eyes locked on Ragnar. “What do you want with my aunt, warlord?”
“That’s a question for your mother. She’s the one who sent me here.”
For a painful moment, Ragnar felt as if he’d hit the princess, she appeared so stricken. He would have said nothing if he’d known his words would cause such a reaction.
“My mother? My mother sent you here? To kill my aunt?”
“I’m not an assassin, lady. I was merely to pick up your aunt and return her and your brother to Queen Rhiannon. What your mother does from there, I have no idea.”
“And you agreed?”
“It was either me or your father’s kin. I assumed she’d be safer with me.”
The Eastlander glanced at her. “He does have a point, Keita.”
Keita headed down to her aunt’s home, shifting to her human form while walking, and pushed open the door to the house. She searched for some sign of either her aunt or where she might have gone. She did a quick sweep of the room and then went through the back door to the garden.
“I told you she’s not here, luv.”
“Then where is she, Ren?”
“I don’t know, but she’s been gone for a bit.”
“How do you know?”
�
�There’s a fine layer of dust over everything—and her overall presence has begun to fade from this place.”
Keeping her back to Ren and pressing her hand to her stomach, Keita asked, “Is she dead?”
“I don’t know. But if she is, she didn’t die here.”
Ren’s instincts were never wrong, and he never lied to Keita. If someone had killed her aunt, he’d know and tell her.
“Was she taken?”
“I don’t sense that. It’s clean here. Like she just left.”
Keita faced him. “And went where?”
“I don’t know, but nothing says anything is wrong either.”
“Except my mother knowing Esyld’s here.”
“Your mother knows lots of things. I doubt she acts on a fifth of them.”
“But this is Esyld the Traitor.”
“Whom the queen sent a Lightning to retrieve.”
“Perhaps she was hoping Esyld wouldn’t survive the trip.”
“Then she would have sent your father’s kin, whose loyalty is unquestionable—but whose honor is a little shaky.”
“You think I’m worrying over nothing, don’t you?”
“You rarely worry, my friend. So when you do worry, it’s never over nothing. But I’m not sure what we can do at this point.”
“Track her down?”
“So your mother will definitely know where she is?”
He was right. As always.
“What do you suggest I do?”
“Go home.” When she sneered, he added, “You’ll never find out what your mother is up to if you don’t.”
“And you think she’ll tell me?”
“Doubtful. But your brothers will, if they know. Their mates. Your friends in court. Don’t act like you don’t know how to get information, my dear Lady Keita.”
Now smiling, Keita went up on her toes and draped her arms around Ren’s neck. “Why, my dear friend, are you suggesting I spy on my mother’s court?”
“I’m aghast you’d even suggest such a thing.”
They laughed together until Ren gestured to the door. “Let’s be off. The sooner we get back to Devenallt Mountain, the sooner we can be rid of your brother’s barbarian guard unit.”
The thought of that had Keita practically sprinting for the door.
As she stepped into Esyld’s house, she stopped in the doorway and studied the barbarian. He stood in the middle of her aunt’s house, naked—except for that travel bag he kept with him at all times—looking incredibly delicious in his extremely large and muscular human form and awfully innocent. Too innocent.
“What are you doing?” she asked him.
“Nothing.”
Slowly the Lightning’s gaze locked on hers, and for what felt like a lifetime, they stared at each other. He was lying—she knew he was lying—but she had no proof.
“Ready to go?” Ren asked.
“Yes,” she finally replied. “I’m ready.”
Ren walked out, the barbarian behind him, and, letting out a breath, Keita followed. But she stopped halfway through the house, her eyes quickly scanning the room. She felt that something was missing, but whether it was missing when they all first walked in or only after the Lightning had been alone in Esyld’s house, Keita didn’t know.
Unable to pinpoint anything she could accuse the warlord of—and terribly annoyed by that—she walked out and shifted back to her natural form. In silence, they returned to the others, only to find the two remaining barbarians punching at the rock wall where Ren had disappeared.
Ren turned away, his shoulders shaking, while Ragnar watched his kin, trying to figure out what they were doing. Keita raised her brows at her brother but Éibhear could only manage a helpless shrug.
And gods, she had at least several more days of this. Only the dread of seeing her mother outweighed being trapped with such distinct stupidity.
Chapter Six
They camped near the coast late that night. They stopped at a location that not only had the sea at their back but a river cutting through the land and a small lake nearby.
Vigholf and Meinhard went off to scout the area, ensuring they would all be safe for the next few hours, while the Blue gathered firewood and continued talking. Mostly to himself.
“You’re exhausted,” the foreigner said.
The comment was not directed at him, but Ragnar still looked over his shoulder and watched the Eastland dragon stroke his claw along the princess’s cheek. For the life of him, Ragnar didn’t understand the relationship these two had. Together? Not together? What?
“I am,” she said, stifling a yawn. “I tried to sleep in that horrid dungeon, but all that soft sobbing and begging the gods for help…honestly, how many times can a man chant, ‘Save me from the beast, dear gods in heaven, I repent all my ills if you’ll only save me from the beast’ before he stops? It’s not as if I had any intention of eating him. At least that dog had been bathed recently.” Her snout wrinkled a bit. “I can’t just eat anything, you know.”
“Excellent point.”
“But I must admit, I am hungry.”
“I’ll get us something!” the Blue offered, dropping the extra wood near a pit fire he’d already started with a blast of flame. He’d been in an intolerably good mood since his sister agreed to return with them.
Keita clapped her claws together. “Would you?” she asked so sweetly it made Ragnar’s back fangs ache. “I saw something with antlers over there.” She pointed, and her brother charged off.
Realizing that left him alone with the princess and her…whatever he was, Ragnar headed off toward the nearby beach. He had no desire or patience for more ridiculous conversation. Because wasn’t hearing the couple’s discussion about whether eating the tail of a dog was proper etiquette or not more than one dragon should be forced to take?
Ragnar walked to the sand’s edge and let the waves roll back and forth over his claws while he gazed off. When he felt calm and part of the earth, Ragnar closed his eyes and released his mind.
He searched the lines of Magick that kept all those who used such power connected. There were those who were so powerful, like the Dragon Queen, they could block at will the weaker witches and mages from ever sensing their presence. But Ragnar had strong skills and, due to the blessings and sacrifices of his mother, much power. He used his skills to skirt around Rhiannon so she could not sense him. Not easy because she was awake at this hour and calling power to her.
Once he successfully avoided the queen, Ragnar took his time and searched for Esyld. As Rhiannon had, it was through these lines that Ragnar had first discovered the queen’s sister, but this night there was nothing. He hated the thought that something had happened to Esyld. Hated even more that she might be doing something that would have her head removed right along with her front and back legs and her wings. These were dangerous times, and keeping out of trouble should be a task for everyone, but especially those who lived alone in the Outerplains, because the reigning Southland Dragon Queen thought of them as her enemy.
After some fruitless searching, Ragnar accepted the fact he wouldn’t find Esyld. At least not right now.
Disappointed, he released the energy that surrounded him back to the sea and opened his eyes. That’s when he saw the claw waving in front of his snout.
He closed his eyes again and asked, “What are you doing?”
“Oh. You’re back.”
“I never left.”
“Yes, but you weren’t quite here either.”
Ragnar opened his eyes. “Is there something you want, princess?”
“I have questions.”
“Can they not wait? It’s been a long day, and I’m tired.”
“Of course, you’re right. We can talk in the morning.”
Ragnar watched her walk off, but he sensed she wouldn’t sleep if he didn’t answer her questions. Since they had some hard traveling coming up—none of which he planned to do with her relaxing on his back, filing her talons—he asked, �
��Is this about Esyld?”
She stopped, her tail scratching patterns in the sand. “If it is?”
“Then perhaps you can ask your questions quickly.”
She looked at him over her shoulder. “How did you know about my aunt?”
Ragnar’s eyes nearly crossed. Why did he continue to expect more from her? But at least she seemed loyal to her aunt. Esyld would need friends when she was brought back to Dark Plains. Because Ragnar had no doubt that the queen would not give up until she found her sister. “Let me be clearer, princess. Ask your questions quickly and try not to make them inane.”
“Fine.” Keita returned to his side. “Have you fucked her?”
Ragnar cringed. “I see we’re sticking with inane.”
“Not if you’ve fucked her. Then you’re betraying your lover.”
“She is not my lover.”
“Now?”
“Ever.”
The princess sat back on her haunches, eyes narrowing. “Why did my mother choose you?”
“I don’t know.”
“What has she planned for my aunt?”
“No idea.”
“What do you know?”
“A vast number of things. But what your mother is thinking is not one of them.”
An agitated talon tapped on the sand.
“Why didn’t you tell your mother you knew where your aunt was?” he asked.
“Because other than fleeing for her life after my mother choked the life from my grandmother—an escape most would consider wise—my aunt has done nothing to earn or keep the title of traitor.”
“Are you sure?”
“What does that mean?”
Ragnar lifted up the traveling bag that lay beside him and placed it in front of her. “Look inside.”
Using her tail, Keita gingerly opened the bag and lowered her head to peek inside.
Ragnar might normally be insulted by such actions, but he knew the truth. “Could you be more obvious about having brothers?”
“Among my kin, if you open a bag without checking first, you might find yourself suddenly face-to-face with a poisonous sea snake—and you know how much their bites sting.”