Shy.

Kailigh fumed over that word, but eventually her practicality reasserted itself. She wanted to send the girls with Maddugh and stay behind to defend her land.

“Are you mad?” he exclaimed, buttoning his black vest. He’d given her a long look before turning and trotting back into the forest, emerging a few moments later with a pack he must have dropped before attacking. “One lone woman against a troop of flesh traffickers? They will kill you—or take you.” His expression told her which he thought was worse. Kailigh’s teeth ground. Already he thought of them as his.

But she was adamant. “I was ready to abandon the place before they pulled this stunt. Now they can have it over my lifeless body.”

Maddugh’s hard expression didn’t change. “I think not, mistress. You have an oath to fulfill. I’ll send guards to protect your home.”

“I don’t want your guards. They owe me nothing.”

“They will owe you more than you think,” he replied, voice flat. “I’m not arguing with you.” His gaze flicked to Persia, who’d disappeared during the argument and now emerged from the side of the house with the donkey. “You’re already loaded? Good.” He paused, sniffing. “Is that ammunition?”

Kai ignored the incredulous tone and turned to give the packs a final going over.

“You packed ammunition instead of clothing and hair brushes and… things?”

Serephone grinned, a rare, scary expression. She looked like a Mad Hatter rather than a twenty something young woman with fey eyes and a moody disposition.

Maddugh carried Cinvarra. Kailigh could tell Serephone didn’t like it, but in the end, it was Kailigh’s decision, and a practical one. The trek to his city was neither long nor short, but she and the girls had guns—he didn’t. Even if he couldn’t turn into a dragon while carrying the girl, Kailigh thought Cinvarra was best served directly under the Dwyrkin Lord’s protection. Serephone and Persia doubled on Horse, and Kai lead Donkey.

They’d taken a few precious minutes to bathe, change and groom the basement dirt out of Cin’s hair. Kailigh didn’t want her daughter, even unconscious, to suffer the indignity of appearing for the first time in a potential new home smelly and bedraggled. Her skin was rosy underneath its usual dusky hue, her breathing even and soft. Clearly, the girl was on the mend.

When they reached his home, the guard on the stone wall stared first at Maddugh, then at the three women, eyes slowly widening. Maddugh ignored him after giving a curt instruction. By the time they reached the hall, two other men were inside. One sat in Maddugh’s chair, head propped on his elegant fingers, the other lounged on a nearby wall, arms closed.

“Treats,” the man sitting in the chair exclaimed, straightening. His long pale hair contrasted against golden skin and pale eyes, glittering with mirth. His open white shirt and golden brown vest looked as if he couldn’t be bothered with buttons and the fitted black pants emphasized the elegant musculature of his thighs and calves. “So kind of you, Father. If I had known that was where you were headed this afternoon…”

“Out of my seat, Hrutha,” Maddugh said. “You aren’t Lord yet.”

He sounded like any other father. Kailigh realized they had that in common—both the parents of adult, probably rebellious, children.

The male on the wall straightened. He wore his hair longer than most, almost to the small of his back, a braid on one side. Leaner than his father, and darker as if he spent considerable time in the sun, his eyes traveled between the women, brow rising. Unlike the other, his attire was modest, nearly severe. A long buttoned up black coat with a high collar so his hair nearly blended in. Broad shoulders, which must have been either a nightmare or a delight for his tailor—depending on the tailor’s point of view.

“Father, what have you done?”

Maddugh looked at him. “These women are under my protection. Do not insult them. Where is Nuaddan?”

“He went hunting this morning,” Hrutha said. “But you have quarried far more interesting prey.”

The dark one came forward, giving his brother an irritated look. “Why are they here, Father?”

“Look closely, Amnan,” he said. “Can’t you tell?”

Amnan studied Kailigh, green eyes flaring with a nascent light, pupils narrowing to slits before his attention shifted to Serephone. He stared at her, unsmiling. Serephone stared back, eyes narrowing. Kailigh touched the back of her daughter’s hand in warning.

“Dwyrkin,” he said. “Weak Dwyrkin.” Turning to his father, “You want them to choose mates.”

“Exactly.” Maddugh’s self-satisfied tone irritated her.

“You’re mad. Hrutha, talk some sense into him.” Then he paused, putting a hand to his brow. “Never mind—I don’t know what I was thinking. You would never talk sense into anyone.”

Hrutha smiled, and settled back into his father’s throne, flinging a leg over the side. “There will be a riot. Four sisters with Dwyrkin blood? This week should be fabulously entertaining,”

Kailigh scowled. “I’m their mother, boy. My eldest daughters, Serephone and Persia. The sleeping one is Cinvarra. And before there’s a riot, you put out that my girls can handle themselves with a blade and shotgun just fine—and their mother taught them.”

“Delightful,” Hrutha purred. “That will provide even better sport. You know, I prefer my women properly aged, like fine wine.”

“Hrutha,” Maddugh said.

Amnan sighed, obviously displeased. “You’ve borne three daughters with weak Dwyrkin blood, mistress? There will definitely be a riot when word gets out. Father. I had things to do this month.”

Kailigh looked at Maddugh. “And we’ll be laying some ground rules of conduct about the courtship. Especially with the youngest. There will be no physical importuning, and my daughters will be chaperoned at all times.”

“Of course, of course. Amnan, arrange it,” Maddugh said. “I want no improprieties. This must be done in an organized fashion.”

“Just how do you organize half the unmarried male population slavering after a woman who has proven fertility and her three nubile daughters?”

Serephone twitched. Persia just grinned, the better natured of the two. Kailigh was certain Serephone didn’t like being referred to as nubile, much less spoken of as if she wasn’t present. But the assertion that the men would be after Kailigh took her aback.

“I’ll make it known she is mine,” Maddugh replied, voice pleasant. His eyes flared. “If any wishes to challenge my claim, they are welcome. This year has been far too peaceful.”

“I don’t think I’ll have to worry about any slavering.” She stared at him, hard. “Regarding my girls, if acceptable husbands—I don’t know what all this mate business is—present themselves to me for my daughters, I will consider them. We are tired, Lord Maddugh.” She looked pointedly at Cinvarra, still cradled in his arms.

He nodded and Amnan disappeared into an inner hallway, returning a few minutes later with a female dressed in a nondescript skirt and blouse that could only be household livery.

“Mistress, this is a female member of our household. She will be responsible for your rooms and you may speak to her regarding any needs you have while you reside here. Come, we’ll show you to your rooms.”

“What, you don’t trust me to show them to their accommodations?” Hrutha called out, laughing when Amnan glanced at him, irritated, taking Cinvarra from his father.

The trip through the house was quick. Like the outside suggested, it wasn’t overly large and the halls were just wide enough for two people to walk side by side. Runners protected the polished wood floors and the occasional window let in light and a view of the forest and town beyond. Of course, one side of the house was built against the mountain.

They entered the first of their rooms. The furniture was plain, but elegant. Made of specially treated woods, it gleamed with an inner fire. Ornate quilts set off the wood and colorful woven rope rugs were scattered on the floor. A great chest of drawers sat in one corner. Kailigh noted this quickly, pulling down the quilt to lay Cinvarra down.

“When will she wake?” Kailigh asked, knowing he probably didn’t have an answer.

"Soon," Amnan replied. "Her breathing is even and her color good. Allow her to rest, mother." He glanced at Kailigh, eyes inscrutable. "What is the real reason my father brought you here?"

"He healed her. Us hanging around for three weeks to maybe catch some bees was the deal. He seems to be enamored of this idea of injecting some new genes into your population."

"Hmm. Has he... spoken to you?"

Kailigh frowned. She was too old for euphemisms. "I don’t think you have to worry about that. I'm an old woman—he’ll lose interest once the novelty of the idea wears off.”

Maddugh’s son laughed, then stopped when he saw she wasn't joking, face serious but vastly more amused. "Well. We'll see. My father never does anything without a hidden motivation—several. Rue is correct—this should be entertaining. I’ll leave you to your rest, mistress."

* * *

A light meal was sent up, and Kailigh availed herself of the attached bathroom, enjoying the city style plumbing. There wasn't much of an infrastructure for the amenities outside of the Domes, so however Maddugh had rigged pipes—it was a treat.

But she couldn't sleep. She rose from the end of Cinvarra's bed, wrapping an oversized shawl over her thin nightgown, and left the room. She’d seen a common balcony off one hallway when they'd come up. A good idea, to have a shared area everyone could enjoy rather than private spaces attached to bedrooms.

Stepping into the early morning breeze, Kailigh watched as the first hints of dawn appeared over the mountainside. There was a decent view of the sloping valley city from here. A few individuals stirred—perhaps the baker or mother's beginning morning chores. Dwyrkin or human, life ran along much the same lines. Women birthed babies, tried their best to keep them fed and safe until they were old enough to get their food themselves, and tried to put something valuable in their brains in the meantime. Maybe gain some ground with each generation. Not for the first time Kailigh regretted that she hadn’t had a mother to guide and help her in the rearing of her girls—but was determined to be present for her daughters when they chose mates and bore children.

"Are you up early or late?"

"Maddugh." She’d felt the presence behind her, and had guessed who it must be. "I couldn't sleep. Too wound up from the day."

"I could help you relax."

She stifled a snort. Now that sounded like a pick-up line if ever she'd heard one. "And would I have to see your etchings to do that?"

“Pardon?”

Kailigh shook her head. "Never mind." She turned, facing him squarely. It was time to nip this in the bud. Amber eyes watched her placidly. She wasn’t fooled.

"Lord Maddugh, I am not available for a fling, if your thoughts were headed that way. I have three daughters and a steading to oversee, and no time for foolishness."

"A liaison with me would be foolish?" White teeth flashed, and she wasn't sure if it was a smile or a challenge. "Very well, mistress. I will not approach you with any foolishness." He paused. "Your eldest daughter. The fey one. Is she..."

Kailigh watched him attempt to find a delicate word and after a minute decided to help him out. "Sane? Yes, she is. I don't think your men will fare well with her, however. She learned at a young age to distrust." And that was all Kailigh would say on the matter.

Maddugh's eyes chilled, and she realized he didn't see her, but was looking inward. "I see." He stepped back, and to her consternation, bowed, hair slithering over his shoulder. Stone and Steam, these Dwyrkin were pretty. "I will see you at the first meal. We don't break fast until later than is human custom."

She nodded. "That's fine. We tend to do chores before eating, anyway. Don't trouble the kitchen on our behalf." She paused. “Do you have a telegraph?”

“Of course. There is a business office open for use for the entire household on the first floor.” He studied her. “Who do you need to communicate with?”

His mild tone didn’t fool her. But she was in his home. She gave him the courtesy of a reply. “The town constable. He’ll want some kind of report until I can get to town to make a formal statement.”

“You won’t be going into town anytime soon.”

Kailigh stared. “Excuse me? I think I misheard.”

He smiled. “No, I think your hearing is just fine. You may not leave the city until I’m certain there is no danger to you or your daughters.”

“Our bargain wasn’t for you to decide when I come and go, Maddugh.”

“I cannot collect toll from a dead woman. And if this enemy truly wants our daughters, he is now aware that the only way he may procure them is over your dead body. And now, mine.”

He stepped forward, a subtle entrance into her personal space. Kai remained where she was, refusing to play the cat and mouse game by backing up. Or by demanding he step back. She wouldn’t let him know he affected her.

“I said you interest me, Kailigh,” Maddugh said. “I find myself wondering…” he lifted a hand, brushed a finger over the line of her jaw, down her neck. Kai tensed. Not acknowledging that the feather light touch branded her skin even through the cloth of her jacket. “Wondering things only a husband should wonder.”

Kailigh inhaled. “You play with serious words like they are candy.”

Maddugh smiled, though his eyes remained dark, intense. “I’m a serious man—and much older than you. I know what I want when I see it—and I rarely wait long to claim something I’ve determined belongs to me.”

“I am not a mine to be claimed.”

“No? Well, then I must revert to gentler means of persuasion.”

He led her to the office, inclined his head, and left her in private. Kailigh forced her mingled temper and growing lust to simmer down, practicality winning over anger. In the end, it didn’t matter what Maddugh wanted—short of locking her up, he couldn’t control her. So let him entertain his delusions all he wanted. She would waste no emotional or mental energy arguing with him.

She sent a brief message and waited. It wasn’t a long wait, and she cursed when the reply was final. The airbus was gone—and so was Ruthus Adjrius.