How to Drive a Dragon Crazy
The dragon chuckled. “The Dragon Queen often seems as if she lets her offspring run wild and free, uncaring if they return to her alive or dead. But we, the other dragon kingdoms, understand quite well what her offspring do not.”
“And what’s that?”
“That the bitch is cruel and unforgiving. And if you really want to piss her off, allow one of her offspring to be harmed. So although you are merely a granddaughter and not blood, as you are clearly a child of this land, the other kingdoms are well aware of her affection for you.”
“That’s quite sweet, but if it’s true, what about her son?”
“Which one?”
“The one who traveled with me. Did your powerful magi not tell you about him?”
“Oh. The youngest male,” he sneered. “Yes. They were well aware.”
“And?”
“And what? He’s a Mì-runach. Not only would King Heru never let such a despicable beast into his court, we assume Éibhear the Contemptible can take care of himself. With that in mind, the only instruction I received was to retrieve you.” He smiled, bright white fangs gleaming in the dark space. “And I am so happy that I have.”
“You won’t be for long, though,” she softly told him.
“And why is that?”
“Because I know my family.”
“What does that—aaaaaahhhhh!”
Izzy ducked her head, watching as the Sand dragon and his shell-like wings were flung away from her.
“Comfortable?” Éibhear demanded, glaring down at her through all that sand in his hair.
“You’re blaming me? I was kidnapped!”
“Aye. You clearly look terrified!”
He couldn’t believe this! He’d come all this way, saved that damn dog, and what did he find Lady Love-A-Dragon doing? Flirting! With a Sand Eater! Oh, the hypocrisy!
Izzy got to her feet and proceeded to wipe sand off her tight ass. “Éibhear—”
“Stay here,” he ordered her. “First I kill him and then we’ll discuss this.”
“Discuss this? Discuss what?”
Annoyed she was playing this game with him, Éibhear faced the Sand Eater and got a sword handle to the snout for his trouble.
“Dammit!”
Izzy laughed, hands on her hips.
“Where’s the loyalty?” Éibhear demanded.
“I don’t have any for such a whiny baby! And speaking of which . . . where’s me dog?”
“Again with that bloody mongrel? You didn’t even ask about me!”
“Well you’re standing here, aren’t you? You’re alive. Breathing, apparently. Whereas I don’t see my wonderful, loyal, non-whiny dog!”
“Ungrateful female!”
Izzy frowned and Éibhear immediately calmed down.
“What’s wrong?” he asked.
She suddenly looked down at the ground.
“Izzy?”
A dragon’s claw came up through the sand and wrapped around Izzy’s legs. With one pull, she was dragged down, disappearing under the sand.
“Izzy!” Éibhear charged over to where she’d been standing. Her dog stood on the other side, accusing Éibhear with his eyes.
“It’s not my fault!” Éibhear argued. “It’s not!”
That damn dog didn’t seem to believe him and Éibhear wasn’t sure he did either.
Snarling, he faced the Sand Eater who’d taken Izzy. He stalked over to him, ready to wring the truth out of the dragon, but with a little wave, the bastard suddenly disappeared under the sand, too.
Éibhear roared. Even if he had to dig up the entire desert, he wouldn’t stop until—
That damn dog barked and ran past Éibhear. Following him, Éibhear watched Macsen head straight to a sand dune. As soon as he got to it, he began to dig. Éibhear walked around once, curled his claw into a fist and rammed it into the dune. Instead of finding more sand, he found nothing. An open space.
Using his tail, Éibhear picked up Macsen and held him tight before he pushed his way inside the dune and dove head-first into blackness.
Desert Land Sand dragons, or Sand Eaters, as they were called among other dragon breeds, were unique among their kind. Not because their natural weapon was, actually, sand. But because of their scales. Or, really, scale. Unlike most dragon breeds, Sand dragons didn’t have multiple scales covering their vulnerable flesh. Not really surprising when one realized they spent most of their life in a sand-covered land. One of the most brutal tortures endured by other dragons was to have their scales lifted and something sharp and painful placed beneath. So to be around sand all day, every day, would make life miserable for the Sand dragons if they had to keep ripping open their own scales to clean sand out from under them. Instead, their bodies had one smooth scale—like a shell. A shell that could split to create wings or encircle the dragon to protect him or her during a sandstorm.
It was all quite fascinating and intriguing, but it was also why three of the Mì-runach—the mightiest and most feared of the Dragon Queen’s warriors—were currently huddled together like frightened hatchlings. Because what else could they do?
Branwen the Awful stepped out of the cavern, her body covered in blood, and tossed the empty shell to the floor. The shell she’d systematically ripped off the back of one of the few Sand Eaters they’d bothered to capture rather than kill.