Light My Fire

The dragon suddenly leaned over and picked up two human-sized, bound books. He flipped one open, nodded.

“Costentyn’s journals,” he said softly, tucking them into his travel bag. “Perhaps they can tell us something.”

Elina heard a sound and turned her head, raising one finger to silence the dragon. Her nostrils flared at the smell of human sweat. When she looked back at Celyn, he was watching her.

“Where?” he demanded.

She wasn’t sure, so she silently made her way down a long corridor, using her nose and female instincts to lead her.

Eventually she found them. In a place that explained everything.

Elina crouched down and picked up a gold coin. It wasn’t the dragon they had wanted. It was the dragon’s hoard. Even now, they were hurriedly taking piles of gold and jewels out through a hole in the cave wall. They were in a line as if trying to take water to a burning building. Buckets of riches being handed off from one male to another while they joked and laughed and bragged about how they’d killed an old being who’d been living his life quiet and alone in his cave.

“Baron Roscommon was right, eh, lads? We’ll be rich, all right, when we get our cut.”

“And imagine all the pussy we’ll get when they find out we slayed a dragon.”

“But Roscommon told the truth. We couldn’t let that dragon live among good people. He was a danger, that one. He had to die.”

“And now them dragons will know not to fuck with us or our city.”

The men cheered at that while they kept working, nothing deterring them from getting their gold.

Elina stood, the gold coin still in her hand, but as she turned to hand it off to Celyn, she realized that he’d silently shifted to his natural form and was now towering over her. He silently stood in that entryway, nearly filling it.

The weight of her quiver and bow rested against her back, and she felt comfort from them. Because she sensed that she would need them. She wouldn’t say that she could read his dragon face. At least not yet. But like most beings of the world, what Celyn’s face wouldn’t tell you, his energy would.

His black gaze was fixed on the humans, who, so busy bragging, had yet to notice them. The dragon nodded his horned head.

Reaching back, Elina placed one hand on the wood of her bow. She held out her other hand with the gold coin sitting in her palm. Slowly, she turned that hand over, so the coin fell from her palm and made a soft plunk sound against all the other gold coins.

There was immediate silence in that cave. All that self-important chatter stopped, human bodies tensing.

Elina was fascinated, but she didn’t wait to see any more. She silently and swiftly eased back and found her way to another exit.

Celyn wasn’t surprised when Elina made her hasty escape. What human wanted to watch what he was about to do?

Celyn? His father’s voice popped into his head after Celyn sent out the call. What’s wrong, son?

It’s Costentyn, Da. He’s been killed by humans.

There was a long pause, but his father was merely thinking. He was not a quick reactor. It was why Celyn had contacted him and not his mother. Before he could even have finished a thought, Ghleanna would have been flying to him in a Cadwaladr rage. Although effective, it was not what Celyn thought was needed right now.

Where are you? his father finally asked.

In Costentyn’s cave. I’ve found some humans here. When I walked in, they were talking about how the baron of the nearby city had sent them here. They are stealing Costentyn’s gold for this baron. And to send a message.

A message? To whom?

Dragons . . . maybe Annwyl.

I see.

This can’t be ignored, Da. I’ll be dealing with them, but—

Yes, yes. I know. I think there are Cadwaladr kin nearby you. I will have them join you. But Celyn . . . and this is important, son, keep control of them as best you can. We don’t need this spreading outside the walls of that city. Understand me?

I do, Da.

Good.

His father was gone, off to handle this in the best way he could. And since Celyn had utter faith in his father, he thought no more about it, instead focusing all his Cadwaladr rage and hate on these men. These worthless human men.

Finally, after the dragonfear had washed through them and the humans were able to move again, one of the men raised his sword and screamed, “Kill it!”

Celyn welcomed them to try. . . .

Miles had just taken another basket filled with gold and jewels when he heard the screams from inside that dragon’s cave. He doubted the dragon had come back. The creature had definitely been dead by the time they’d finished with him. Even after they’d known he was dead, they’d kept stabbing him, kept bashing him . . . just to make sure. Them dragons could be tricky. The baron had said they were evil and the one in the cave needed to be killed. Although, truth be told, that dragon hadn’t put up much of a fight. Not the kind of fight Miles would have expected. But when they’d walked into that cave filled with gold, he’d understood better what the baron had wanted.

Yeah. Sure. The dragon dead of course. Miles didn’t care one way or another about that. But the baron really wanted this gold. He wanted to raise an army, perhaps take on the queen. How people could be okay with that woman ruling their lands when she lay down every night with a dragon—even worse, had its unholy babies—Miles could and would never understand.

But this had nothing to do with any of that. Miles understood that once he saw all that damn gold. For hours now, they’d been working to clean out this cave and yet they weren’t even half done.