How to Drive a Dragon Crazy
Page 23
His brothers.
Disgusted at the thought, Éibhear got to his feet and used the bottom of his fur cape to wipe the dog drool from his poor, defenseless face.
Izzy always placated his brothers, especially Briec and Fearghus. And then, of course, there was his father, Bercelak. Izzy was the reigning queen when it came to placating his father. But Éibhear wasn’t his father, nor his brothers. He didn’t want to hear what Izzy thought he wanted to hear. He wanted the truth. He wanted . . . well, it didn’t matter. He just knew he didn’t want this . . . this centaur shit of platitudes.
Family is all? Really?
Deciding they weren’t nearly done with this whole thing, Éibhear started to head back to the others. But before he could take the first step, he noticed Izzy’s dog charging right at him—again—teeth bared, eyes wild.
Gods, really?
“Everything all right?” Brannie asked, her voice low so only Izzy could hear.
“Of course. All’s forgiven.” Then she grinned. “Family is all, you know.”
Brannie briefly closed her eyes before stating, “Oh, that’s brilliant.”
They giggled until Éibhear’s comrade Aidan walked up to them. “Everything all right?”
The females nodded. “Aye.”
His light eyes narrowed a bit, but Izzy, sensing that Aidan was much smarter than the other two Mì-runach accompanying Éibhear, glanced around and called out for her dog.
“Macsen? Macsen!”
“He’s coming.” Éibhear walked out of the woods.
“What do you mean he’s coming?”
“Give him a second.” He stepped back and she watched as Macsen happily dragged a large bear into the clearing.
“Oh, not again,” Brannie sighed.
Aidan blinked. “Again? How often does he attack bears?”
“He likes bear,” Izzy admitted.
“It came up behind me,” Éibhear explained, “and this one went for him like a bone.”
Brannie pointed at the bear. “Macsen took that down by himself?”
A valid question. Macsen enjoyed challenging bears, but it was usually Izzy or her troops who ended up taking down the bear so that the dog could eat his full.
Éibhear walked closer, leaned in, and whispered, “Not really. I could see the bear was not happy and about to tear the dog apart so I just sort of”—he shrugged—“punched him while the dog wasn’t looking. Bear’s out cold. We should probably go before he wakes up.”
“Why are you whispering?” Brannie whispered.
“Just look at him.” He glanced back at Macsen. “He’s so proud of himself. I couldn’t take that from him.”
Brannie rolled her eyes and walked around her cousin, slinging her pack over her shoulder.
“What?” he asked when Izzy continued to stare at him.
“Nothing.” She started laughing and couldn’t stop, walking after her friend. “Nothing at all.”
Chapter 9
They traveled late into the evening, finally stopping in a valley another few hours away from Garbhán Isle.
As a group, they silently ate dried beef and bread, pulled out their bedrolls, and went to sleep.
The next morning, when Éibhear woke up, he was alone. Since he found no signs of blood or body parts, he assumed everyone was alive somewhere.
Éibhear ate more of the dried beef and bread, already thinking about the food he’d get once he returned to Garbhán Isle. It was something he’d missed greatly while living mostly in the north. Although the Ice Landers did use some interesting seasonings and well-cooked, rich food was the one indulgence they allowed themselves in their harsh world. Still, it’s not like he could enjoy that Ice Lander home cooking very often when he and his squad spent much of their time buried under ice and dirt, waiting for the right time to strike at some unsuspecting tribe leader.
Aye. It would be good to have a bit of a holiday. It would be good to see his kin . . . well, it would be good to see his mother and the mates of his brothers. That would be good.
Once he finished eating, Éibhear discovered he was no longer alone, but his company was only that damn dog. Where exactly was everyone else?
The dog circled around, finally sidling up to him, his eyes on the remainder of Éibhear’s beef.
“I should let you starve,” he told the beast. “Just for the snoring that you tormented us with last night, I should let you starve.”
But he ended up giving it a few pieces of beef instead. Simply because he didn’t want to hear Izzy complain if the dog died before they made it back to Garbhán Isle. He really didn’t want to hear her complain.
“Where is everyone anyway?” he asked the dog once he was done eating.
It jumped back like a rearing horse, spun around, and ran a few feet away, came back, stared at Éibhear.
Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to follow, that’s what Éibhear did. The dog led him up a steep incline until he found his fellow Mì-runach standing at the very top beside a large tree and looking over the other side to the land below.
Without saying a word, Éibhear walked up behind them and stood. They were tall, but he was taller and he only had to go slightly up on his toes to see what they were looking at.
One look at the lake beneath had Éibhear dropping back on his heels and shaking his head in disgust. Disgust! These bastards!
Disgusted at the thought, Éibhear got to his feet and used the bottom of his fur cape to wipe the dog drool from his poor, defenseless face.
Izzy always placated his brothers, especially Briec and Fearghus. And then, of course, there was his father, Bercelak. Izzy was the reigning queen when it came to placating his father. But Éibhear wasn’t his father, nor his brothers. He didn’t want to hear what Izzy thought he wanted to hear. He wanted the truth. He wanted . . . well, it didn’t matter. He just knew he didn’t want this . . . this centaur shit of platitudes.
Family is all? Really?
Deciding they weren’t nearly done with this whole thing, Éibhear started to head back to the others. But before he could take the first step, he noticed Izzy’s dog charging right at him—again—teeth bared, eyes wild.
Gods, really?
“Everything all right?” Brannie asked, her voice low so only Izzy could hear.
“Of course. All’s forgiven.” Then she grinned. “Family is all, you know.”
Brannie briefly closed her eyes before stating, “Oh, that’s brilliant.”
They giggled until Éibhear’s comrade Aidan walked up to them. “Everything all right?”
The females nodded. “Aye.”
His light eyes narrowed a bit, but Izzy, sensing that Aidan was much smarter than the other two Mì-runach accompanying Éibhear, glanced around and called out for her dog.
“Macsen? Macsen!”
“He’s coming.” Éibhear walked out of the woods.
“What do you mean he’s coming?”
“Give him a second.” He stepped back and she watched as Macsen happily dragged a large bear into the clearing.
“Oh, not again,” Brannie sighed.
Aidan blinked. “Again? How often does he attack bears?”
“He likes bear,” Izzy admitted.
“It came up behind me,” Éibhear explained, “and this one went for him like a bone.”
Brannie pointed at the bear. “Macsen took that down by himself?”
A valid question. Macsen enjoyed challenging bears, but it was usually Izzy or her troops who ended up taking down the bear so that the dog could eat his full.
Éibhear walked closer, leaned in, and whispered, “Not really. I could see the bear was not happy and about to tear the dog apart so I just sort of”—he shrugged—“punched him while the dog wasn’t looking. Bear’s out cold. We should probably go before he wakes up.”
“Why are you whispering?” Brannie whispered.
“Just look at him.” He glanced back at Macsen. “He’s so proud of himself. I couldn’t take that from him.”
Brannie rolled her eyes and walked around her cousin, slinging her pack over her shoulder.
“What?” he asked when Izzy continued to stare at him.
“Nothing.” She started laughing and couldn’t stop, walking after her friend. “Nothing at all.”
Chapter 9
They traveled late into the evening, finally stopping in a valley another few hours away from Garbhán Isle.
As a group, they silently ate dried beef and bread, pulled out their bedrolls, and went to sleep.
The next morning, when Éibhear woke up, he was alone. Since he found no signs of blood or body parts, he assumed everyone was alive somewhere.
Éibhear ate more of the dried beef and bread, already thinking about the food he’d get once he returned to Garbhán Isle. It was something he’d missed greatly while living mostly in the north. Although the Ice Landers did use some interesting seasonings and well-cooked, rich food was the one indulgence they allowed themselves in their harsh world. Still, it’s not like he could enjoy that Ice Lander home cooking very often when he and his squad spent much of their time buried under ice and dirt, waiting for the right time to strike at some unsuspecting tribe leader.
Aye. It would be good to have a bit of a holiday. It would be good to see his kin . . . well, it would be good to see his mother and the mates of his brothers. That would be good.
Once he finished eating, Éibhear discovered he was no longer alone, but his company was only that damn dog. Where exactly was everyone else?
The dog circled around, finally sidling up to him, his eyes on the remainder of Éibhear’s beef.
“I should let you starve,” he told the beast. “Just for the snoring that you tormented us with last night, I should let you starve.”
But he ended up giving it a few pieces of beef instead. Simply because he didn’t want to hear Izzy complain if the dog died before they made it back to Garbhán Isle. He really didn’t want to hear her complain.
“Where is everyone anyway?” he asked the dog once he was done eating.
It jumped back like a rearing horse, spun around, and ran a few feet away, came back, stared at Éibhear.
Deciding it wouldn’t hurt to follow, that’s what Éibhear did. The dog led him up a steep incline until he found his fellow Mì-runach standing at the very top beside a large tree and looking over the other side to the land below.
Without saying a word, Éibhear walked up behind them and stood. They were tall, but he was taller and he only had to go slightly up on his toes to see what they were looking at.
One look at the lake beneath had Éibhear dropping back on his heels and shaking his head in disgust. Disgust! These bastards!
