How to Drive a Dragon Crazy
Page 108
Sitting up straight, Zachariah said, “Are you telling me your adoptive father is a—”
“Dragon? Aye. Briec the Mighty. Second oldest son of the Dragon Queen, second in line to the throne—”
“I don’t give a damn about his titles, girl. Why is your mother trapped with a dragon?”
“I wouldn’t say she’s trapped. Although she would, especially when Daddy hasn’t checked her fruit appropriately.”
“Checked her fruit?”
“You don’t want to know. But no. She’s not trapped. She could leave, but she’d break his heart. He loves her. Loves me and, of course, there’s Rhi, which is why I’m here.”
“And who’s Rhi again?”
“My sister. Their daughter.”
Appalled and confused at the same time, “Talaith had a child with that . . . that . . .”
“That dragon. Aye. They had my beautiful sister, Rhianwen. Rhi for short.”
“Izzy, how is that even possible?”
“Gods.”
“Gods?”
“Aye. That’s how Annwyl had her twins with my uncle Fearghus. But, you see,” she went on without a breath, “I thought it was Rhydderch Hael again who made it so she could get pregnant by Daddy—Rhydderch Hael is the father god of all dragons—but he said he wouldn’t do that for my mum because she wasn’t talking to him so he wasn’t talking to her. I’m not talking to him either, but with me, he won’t shut up.”
“The gods talk to you?”
“Only one. Now, my Aunt Dagmar—you might have heard of her as the Northland Beast—”
“I thought that was a man.”
“A lot of people make that mistake. Anyway, she talks to gods all the time.”
“A religious woman then?”
She laughed. “Dagmar? No. She’s a follower of Aoibhell.” “The heretic?”
“I wouldn’t call her that unless you have an hour or two to listen to why Aoibhell was not a heretic and why you should care about the distinction, which I’m assuming you really don’t want because that can be overwhelming and you seem like a man who has little time for what Daddy calls Dagmar the Beast’s Unholy and Nonsensical Ramblings.”
Zachariah stared at his son’s child for a long time, then finally said, “You are so like your mother.”
Izzy’s smile was wide and just like her father’s. “Awww, that’s so sweet. Thank you.”
A knock at the door helped Zachariah extract himself from the non-direction this conversation was taking.
“Enter.”
At first Zachariah thought a bear that had lost his fur in some sort of tragic accident had wandered into his forge. What other answer could explain the thing with long blue hair that took up his entire doorway?
“What’s wrong?” Izzy asked it, and that’s when Zachariah realized that the thing she was talking to was the Éibhear she’d spoken of earlier.
“Just checking on you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Having a nice chat then?”
“Not having an unpleasant chat.”
Zachariah heard a horrible, grinding noise, his gaze desperately searching the room in an attempt to find out where it might be coming from.
“Don’t look at me that way, Izzy,” the giant ordered her. “I’m hungry.”
“Go get something to eat then.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“I’ll be perfectly fine. I don’t need your protection.”
“I’m not leaving you anyway.”
“Because you’re my uncle and you love me?”
Zachariah watched the pair, the way the giant’s jaw clenched and unclenched. And the way Izzy smiled. Zachariah knew that damn smile. That mischievous, “I’m enjoying tormenting you” smile that his son had managed to perfect when he was still a boy.
Yes, this woman, this powerful general and warrior was his granddaughter.
And this giant . . . loved her.
“Izzy—”
“Say because you’re my uncle and you love me. It will make my grandfather feel more comfortable with you around his family. He wouldn’t want them to be unsafe just because of me.”
“I will not say—”
“You will or I’m telling Daddy!”
“Is that what you say to your troops?” the giant shot back. “You’ll tell your daddy on them if they don’t follow your orders?”
“If it’s necessary to get them to do what I want.”
Zachariah looked up at the giant. “So you’re Izzy’s uncle?”
“Not by blood.”
“And that matters?”
“It matters.”
Another grinding sound came from the giant’s stomach.
“Like two mountains shifting,” Izzy muttered.
“Well, if you fed me!”
“Should I feed you like a mother bird to a baby chick?”
“All right.” Zachariah stood. “You’ll both eat with us.” He glared at the giant. “With us, foreigner. With us.”
The giant scratched his big head. “As opposed to . . .”
“Dining on my family!”
Mouth open, the giant stepped back. “I would never do such a thing! I don’t eat humans.”
Izzy looked up, all wide-eyed innocence. “Even during battle—ow! What was that pinch for?”
“Dragon? Aye. Briec the Mighty. Second oldest son of the Dragon Queen, second in line to the throne—”
“I don’t give a damn about his titles, girl. Why is your mother trapped with a dragon?”
“I wouldn’t say she’s trapped. Although she would, especially when Daddy hasn’t checked her fruit appropriately.”
“Checked her fruit?”
“You don’t want to know. But no. She’s not trapped. She could leave, but she’d break his heart. He loves her. Loves me and, of course, there’s Rhi, which is why I’m here.”
“And who’s Rhi again?”
“My sister. Their daughter.”
Appalled and confused at the same time, “Talaith had a child with that . . . that . . .”
“That dragon. Aye. They had my beautiful sister, Rhianwen. Rhi for short.”
“Izzy, how is that even possible?”
“Gods.”
“Gods?”
“Aye. That’s how Annwyl had her twins with my uncle Fearghus. But, you see,” she went on without a breath, “I thought it was Rhydderch Hael again who made it so she could get pregnant by Daddy—Rhydderch Hael is the father god of all dragons—but he said he wouldn’t do that for my mum because she wasn’t talking to him so he wasn’t talking to her. I’m not talking to him either, but with me, he won’t shut up.”
“The gods talk to you?”
“Only one. Now, my Aunt Dagmar—you might have heard of her as the Northland Beast—”
“I thought that was a man.”
“A lot of people make that mistake. Anyway, she talks to gods all the time.”
“A religious woman then?”
She laughed. “Dagmar? No. She’s a follower of Aoibhell.” “The heretic?”
“I wouldn’t call her that unless you have an hour or two to listen to why Aoibhell was not a heretic and why you should care about the distinction, which I’m assuming you really don’t want because that can be overwhelming and you seem like a man who has little time for what Daddy calls Dagmar the Beast’s Unholy and Nonsensical Ramblings.”
Zachariah stared at his son’s child for a long time, then finally said, “You are so like your mother.”
Izzy’s smile was wide and just like her father’s. “Awww, that’s so sweet. Thank you.”
A knock at the door helped Zachariah extract himself from the non-direction this conversation was taking.
“Enter.”
At first Zachariah thought a bear that had lost his fur in some sort of tragic accident had wandered into his forge. What other answer could explain the thing with long blue hair that took up his entire doorway?
“What’s wrong?” Izzy asked it, and that’s when Zachariah realized that the thing she was talking to was the Éibhear she’d spoken of earlier.
“Just checking on you.”
“I’m fine.”
“Having a nice chat then?”
“Not having an unpleasant chat.”
Zachariah heard a horrible, grinding noise, his gaze desperately searching the room in an attempt to find out where it might be coming from.
“Don’t look at me that way, Izzy,” the giant ordered her. “I’m hungry.”
“Go get something to eat then.”
“I’m not leaving you.”
“I’ll be perfectly fine. I don’t need your protection.”
“I’m not leaving you anyway.”
“Because you’re my uncle and you love me?”
Zachariah watched the pair, the way the giant’s jaw clenched and unclenched. And the way Izzy smiled. Zachariah knew that damn smile. That mischievous, “I’m enjoying tormenting you” smile that his son had managed to perfect when he was still a boy.
Yes, this woman, this powerful general and warrior was his granddaughter.
And this giant . . . loved her.
“Izzy—”
“Say because you’re my uncle and you love me. It will make my grandfather feel more comfortable with you around his family. He wouldn’t want them to be unsafe just because of me.”
“I will not say—”
“You will or I’m telling Daddy!”
“Is that what you say to your troops?” the giant shot back. “You’ll tell your daddy on them if they don’t follow your orders?”
“If it’s necessary to get them to do what I want.”
Zachariah looked up at the giant. “So you’re Izzy’s uncle?”
“Not by blood.”
“And that matters?”
“It matters.”
Another grinding sound came from the giant’s stomach.
“Like two mountains shifting,” Izzy muttered.
“Well, if you fed me!”
“Should I feed you like a mother bird to a baby chick?”
“All right.” Zachariah stood. “You’ll both eat with us.” He glared at the giant. “With us, foreigner. With us.”
The giant scratched his big head. “As opposed to . . .”
“Dining on my family!”
Mouth open, the giant stepped back. “I would never do such a thing! I don’t eat humans.”
Izzy looked up, all wide-eyed innocence. “Even during battle—ow! What was that pinch for?”
