About a Dragon
Although it was hurting much less then it did when she first returned, hiding it from her mother would not be easy.
“Oi!”
Izzy snapped around as Éibhear kicked open her door and marched in. “Where is it, you little brat?”
“Where’s what?”
“My blade. Gwenvael saw you steal it. So don’t bother lying.”
“Why would I lie? It was simply another bet Gwenvael lost. He said I couldn’t get it from you again. As always, he failed to have any faith in me.”
“Give it.”
“Don’t snarl at me because I took your blade from you. If you paid more attention—”
“Hand it over. I’ve got plans tonight with Gwenvael before he heads to the Northern Lands and I won’t waste my time with you.”
“Fine!” She marched to her bed and reached under it, hauling out the extremely heavy weapon. “How you didn’t notice I was taking this, I’ll never know. I dropped it three times.”
“I was in the middle of a conversation.”
“With that rich whore?”
Éibhear didn’t bother answering, simply snatched the sword from her. “Stay away from my things, demonspawn.”
“Leave. You bore me already.”
She turned away from him, but he grabbed her arm and yanked her back. Izzy was seconds away from pulling her knife from her boot until she saw that her dress was still down over her shoulder.
“Izzy, where the hell did you get this?”
She tried to pull her arm away. “None of your business.”
Éibhear shook her and she stopped squirming. “Answer me.”
Izzy lowered her eyes. “It’s the mark of Rhydderch Hael.”
“Why do you have it?” When she didn’t answer, Éibhear pushed her away. “What the hell have you done?”
She had no answer, but he wasn’t waiting for one. “I’m getting Talaith.”
She grabbed him before he reached the door. “You do, and I’ll make your life a living hell.”
“You already do.” He shoved her away, but she’d always been quick and jumped between him and the door before he could get it open.
“Please, Éibhear.”
“I can’t keep this from your mother, princess.”
“Don’t call me that.” He’d started calling her that a few days ago and she had no idea why. She just knew she didn’t like how he said it.
“Move,” he ordered.
“She’ll run!” she blurted out, desperate.
Éibhear stopped.
“We both know she will. And she’ll take me with her.” When Éibhear didn’t move, she kept going. “Right now she feels safe because she feels I’m safe. She’s finally happy. Briec makes her happy as she makes him happy. But if she thinks for a second I’m in danger or that she may lose me to another god…she’ll run. Back to Alsandair. And you’ll never find us.”
“You think so, do you?”
“She may be learning the healing arts now, Éibhear, but don’t fool yourself a moment about my mother. She’s still a trained assassin who will do anything to survive. And she’ll do absolutely anything to protect me.”
He finally released the door handle. “Why did you do this, Izzy?”
“I had no choice. It was the only way to bring her back alive. But she can’t ever know that.”
“What did you promise him?”
She shrugged. “Everything.”
Éibhear let out a deep sigh. “Dammit, Izzy.”
“I know. But what could I do? She’s my mother.”
Éibhear nodded. “I understand.”
“Then you won’t say anything?”
He shook his head and she so wanted to run her hands through his blue mane. He’d look so adorable with warrior braids. But anytime she tried to touch him, he practically threw her across the room.
“Thank you.”
“Hear me well, though, little girl. If he tries to claim anything from you before your eighteenth winter, I will go to your mother and Briec.”
She nodded. “Fair enough.” Somehow she knew it would be years before Rhydderch Hael called on her. He wanted her trained and ready. And she would be.
“Go on, then. Fix your dress. Make sure that thing doesn’t show. And I’ll see you downstairs.”
He opened the door and Izzy asked, “Will you save a dance for me then?”
His shoulders tightened and without even turning around, he muttered, “Maybe in another sixteen years, princess.”
She waited until he was out in the hallway before she answered. “Not a problem. I can wait.”
Grinning, she closed the door, but not before she saw him slam face first into the wall.
* * *
Briec barely grabbed her in time. “No, Talaith.”
“I’ll kill him.”
He rolled his eyes. He shouldn’t have slept in. By the time they made it downstairs to head back to his den, Izzy’s training had already started. Seeing her daughter trying to handle a shield and staff, only to get shoved into the ground over and over, was making his sweet Talaith much less than sweet.
“You can’t go over there, Talaith.”
“But he’s not even one of the trainers.”
True. They were probably trying to find out Izzy’s strengths before they figured out which class to send her to, so they’d teamed her up against one of the older boys. A youth with white blond hair and an almost permanent sneer. Someone who, Briec was guessing, his little Izzy had rejected or mocked. The boy seemed to find great pleasure in shoving Briec’s daughter in the dirt.