Chapter Twenty-Three
Aidan woke up on his back, coughing dirt, sand, and water out of his lungs.
When the coughing subsided, he let out a breath, relieved he was alive. Until he remembered that he’d had Zoya Kolesova on his back.
Moving fast, he rolled out of the crater his body had created when it landed and turned back to look down into it.
Half-covered in dirt and sand was poor Zoya Kolesova, on her back, her arms and legs bent. Probably similar to the position she’d been in when they’d landed.
But Aidan lurched back when Zoya suddenly coughed, a plume of sand exploding from her mouth.
Shocked, Aidan leaned into the crater again and called out, “Zoya?”
The Rider coughed again . . . and sat up, shaking her head in an attempt to remove the dirt and sand from her eyes.
“How . . . I don’t . . .” Aidan was beyond words at this point.
“I am Zoya Kolesova of the Mountain Movers of the Lands of Pain in the Far Reaches of the Steppes of the Outerplains,” she announced. “And sometimes, when you move mountains, the mountains, they fall on you. If you cannot survive a few thousand pounds falling on you . . . what kind of weak Mountain Mover are you?”
“Uh . . . excellent point?”
“Of course it is.” She stood. “Now get me from this pit.”
Aidan reached down and grabbed Zoya’s arm, lifting her to level ground. Once she was safe, he concentrated on helping the others. He had to walk a bit across the beach until he reached them and the craters in the sand where each of the dragons had landed.
Caswyn and Uther were already awake and alert, doing their best to get their bulk up. The Riders were all alive, including Kachka.
Branwen, though, was still buried in the dirt, not moving. Keita knelt beside her.
Aidan arrived quickly at her side, standing opposite Keita.
The lightning bolt had torn open a spot underneath her right wing. It wasn’t bleeding, though, because the heat from the lightning had cauterized the wound.
He knelt beside her and pushed her hair off her brow. “Brannie? Brannie, can you hear me?”
She growled in response, her front claws digging into the sand, but her eyes remained closed and she didn’t get up.
“Aidan?” Keita said softly.
He looked at the princess and she was staring up. He followed her gaze and saw the women standing on the cliffs looking down at them. There were many of them and they didn’t seem disturbed that there were five dragons on their beach.
These women were all Eastlanders. If they knew dragons, they only knew Eastland dragons, which were very different from Aidan’s kind. So, at the very least, they should be reacting to that. But they weren’t.
“Who are they?”
“Warrior witches,” Keita replied. “Like the Kyvich and the Nolwenn.”
“What are they called?”
“Heaven’s Destroyers.”
Aidan admitted, “Their name suggests we might have an issue with them.”
Keita snorted. “If they wanted to kill us, Mì-runach . . . we’d be wet, sticky spots in the sand by now.”
“That information does not make me feel better.”
“I’ll handle them,” Keita said, “and you, Aidan, take care of my cousin.”
Keita shifted to human and stood, her long red hair covering her naked body. She motioned to the witches and walked away from Branwen.
Aidan snapped his claws at Uther and Caswyn and pointed at Keita. The two males shifted to human—their Rhona-provided chain mail shifting with them—and rushed after her to keep her safe.
Taking Brannie’s claw in his own, Aidan held it and watched the witches make their way down to the beach. Armed with swords and bows and arrows, the witches also carried staffs made from bamboo, each individually adorned with jewels and gold chains and items from nature, like large feathers from predatory birds and fangs from jungle cats. They used those staffs like they were walking sticks but Aidan knew better.
A witch with shoulder-length black hair that had gray and red strands peppered throughout, light brown skin, and catlike brown eyes stepped in front of the other witches and smiled at the royal.
“Princess Keita.”
“Lady Meihui. It’s delightful to see you again.”
“And you, Princess.” Meihui took Keita’s hand and held it, her smile for Keita alone.
Uther, eyes wide, glanced back at Aidan but he shook his head, indicating Uther should let it go. Aidan was not about to fall down this gopher hole over Keita’s past.
“So what brings you back to our shores, Princess?” Meihui asked, still holding Keita’s hand.
“I’m here to see the Empress, but the boat we took decided to pass through the Trail of Storms.”
Meihui snorted a laugh. “Let me guess . . . Northlanders?”
“What do you think?”
“Well, of course, we don’t mind you here, Princess, or your entourage . . . but we are concerned with”—using her staff, Meihui pointed at the Riders—“them.”
Before Kachka could stop her, Zoya stepped forward, hands slapping her chest. “Have something to say to me, decadent Eastlander? Come and talk to Zoya!”
Meihui sighed and released Keita’s hand. “See what I mean? Barbarians.”
“They’re part of my protection.”
The witch blinked. “Riders? Part of your protection? That’s . . . unusual.”
Keita stepped closer to Meihui and said low but quickly, “They’ve attached themselves to me and now I can’t really shake the