Last Dragon Standing

“Here.” Talaith shoved the bundle into Keita’s arms. “Say hello to your newest niece since you couldn’t be bothered to come and meet her when she was born.”

“I thought you weren’t mad at me,” Keita complained, barely glancing at the child.

“And when, pray tell, did I say that? You fly off in a pouty princess rage and leave me, Dagmar, and Annwyl to deal with all that gods-damn brotherly whining that followed. You’re lucky I didn’t lock you in a room with those three.”

“It’s not like I lived here, Talaith. All of you rarely saw me anyway.”

“Very true. But your brothers have always been in contact with you.

At least once every few moons or so. But this time…nothing.” Wearing simple black leggings, a sheathed dagger tied to her right thigh, black leather boots that reached her knees, and a rather large grey cotton shirt, Talaith dropped into a chair. Considering how she dressed and, to a degree, how she acted, it amazed Keita that Talaith, Daughter of Haldane, was one of the most beautiful females she’d ever met. “And why is it that we haven’t heard from you exactly?”

“If you must know,” Keita said, holding the blanket-covered baby in her arms but staring out one of the windows and the bright sky just out of reach, “I guess I was embarrassed.”

“I didn’t know any of you were capable of being embarrassed.”

“Only the females have that issue,” she said without much thought.

Talaith laughed, and, as Keita glanced over to smile back, an impossibly tiny brown hand touched her chin. Something strong and electric shot through Keita’s system, and she immediately focused on the babe.

Wide violet eyes gazed up at her from a tiny brown face surrounded by curly silver hair. Not in all her years had Keita seen anything quite so beautiful. Quite so…clear. Yes. That was the word for it. Clear. Pure and clear and untouched by centuries of anything.

Voice thick with emotion, she said, “She has Briec’s eyes. And his hair color.”

“Aye,” Talaith agreed, watching Keita closely. “She does. And you do know what that means for the rest of us, don’t you?” Keita winced in sympathy, knowing exactly what it meant. “It means that as far as her father’s concerned, she’s the most perfect child ever to walk the world if for no other reason than she came from his loins?” Talaith briefly raised her hands. “Now you see what you’ve left us to deal with all this time. For that alone, we should oust you from the family ranks.”

Grinning, Keita asked, “Has my brother been completely insufferable?”

“He’s always been completely insufferable. Now he’s also intolerable.” The displaced Nolwenn witch rested the heel of her foot on the chair and wrapped her arm around her bent leg. “He adores that child as wolves adore the moon. All day, every day, we all hear about how perfect she is. ‘Look how she perfectly squeezes my finger. Look how she perfectly throws up her breakfast. Look how she perfectly shits her diapers.’ It’s endless!”

Keita laughed.

“Of course you laugh. You don’t have to live with it. And what will I do if she believes him? I mean arrogance in a man is one thing, since few of us take them seriously anyway, but in a woman? And if she becomes even a tenth as arrogant as Briec, then she’ll be well on her way to becoming—”

“My mother?”

Talaith agreed with a nod of her head and a flip of her hand.

“Exactly.”

Keita walked over to one of the bigger windows so she could get a good look at her niece in the bright light of day. She was an astoundingly beautiful child and barely a year and a half old, but it wasn’t her beauty that snared Keita. Nor was it the fact that she had her father’s eyes. It was what Keita saw in those eyes for someone so young. Intelligence. Vast intelligence and kindness. A benevolence and understanding that Keita had rarely seen in adult beings, much less the eyes of a child.

“Talaith…”

“I know. I know. Those eyes stop everyone in their tracks. And it’s not the color, is it? It’s like she can sense everything you feel or will ever feel.”

“If there’s truth to that, my friend, her life will not be easy.”

“I know that as well.”

Wincing that she had to ask the question because she had not been here to witness it or help, “Was it a hard birth for you?”

“Do you mean did I die, only to be brought back from the other side by a god so that I could slaughter a herd of Minotaurs trying to kill my child?”

Laughter wiped the awkward moment away, and Keita nodded.

“That’s exactly what I’m asking.”

“Sorry. Nothing so exciting as what happened to Annwyl. Just your typical, miserable labor with lots of screaming and swearing blood oaths at your brother for doing this to me. Very similar to my Izzy’s birth.” Talaith studied the babe in Keita’s arms. “But this time no one took my daughter from me. This time I can hold her whenever I want to. She’s mine to raise as I like.”

Knowing the human female spoke of how the god Arzhela had secured Talaith’s obedience for some sixteen years by holding her now-eldest daughter hostage, Keita said, “Gods, Izzy must be so excited by this.

Her own little sister.”

When Talaith didn’t answer, Keita looked away from her niece’s intense little face. “Talaith? You have told her, haven’t you?”