How to Drive a Dragon Crazy
Page 68
“Nor will we.”
The commander walked off, her witches following, heading toward the nearby forests.
When they were gone, Dagmar looked at Rhiannon’s claw and then up at Rhiannon herself. “Very subtle, my liege.”
“Oh, my dearest girl, I’m a dragon. I’m never subtle. Have you learned nothing from my son?”
Izzy first tracked down Brastias and asked him to get Gaius and Agrippina and to keep them safe. Especially now. Annwyl would be even more . . . well, on edge, after this little event. So Izzy didn’t want her queen killing anyone by accident. Izzy also sent one of the squires to track down Bram so that he could meet Gaius and find out what had him so concerned now, after all these years, that he’d risk coming to Annwyl’s territory without warning.
Once she’d taken care of all that, she ran back to her house. She walked inside and found a human and dressed Éibhear making tea, and her sister sitting on her bed—staring.
To be honest, Izzy had expected tears. Sobbing. That’s what her sister usually did after this sort of thing. She sobbed. Hysterically. Sobbed until she practically passed out from exhaustion. But not this time. This time she simply sat and stared.
When Izzy came through the door, Éibhear looked at her over his shoulder and frowned, gave a short head shake.
She went and sat beside Rhi, patted her sister’s knee. “Everyone’s fine. You haven’t hurt anyone.” Odda, of course, didn’t count because their grandmother had killed her.
“Uh-huh.”
“So you don’t need to worry.”
“Okay.”
“What is it, Rhi? Just say it.”
“There’s nothing to say.”
“It’s me, Rhi. I know you. There’s something you want to say so just—”
“I’m going to kill everyone!”
Startled at the yelling and the statement, Izzy pulled her hand back from her sister. “What?”
“Don’t you see?” Rhi stood, began pacing. “That’s where I’m headed. I’m going to end up killing everyone I love or, even worse, betraying them.”
“Why would you think such a thing?”
“Because I’m a font of pure, unbridled evil! How can you not see that?”
Izzy stood. “Who told you that?”
Rhi huffed at that. “No one has to tell me anything,” she said defensively, which made Izzy think that someone had said something to her. “I just know. I feel it inside me, waiting to be unleashed by my uncontrollable rage!”
Izzy glanced over at Éibhear, but all he could do was shrug. He was as confused as she was.
“What does Mum say? Dad? Gram?”
“Nothing. No one ever says anything to me. I’m sure it’s because they’ve resigned themselves to their fate and they’re merely waiting for death to come to them all.”
Izzy rubbed her eyes with her fists, then asked again, “What?”
Talaith carefully placed a piece of ice on the bridge of Annwyl’s nose where the swelling was the worst.
“How does that feel?”
Annwyl shrugged at her question and Talaith crouched next to Annwyl’s chair, placing her hand on her friend’s arm. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this all out.”
Her friend looked at her, one eye black and a bruise on her cheek. “Do you really believe that?”
“No. But I’m trying to be hopeful.”
Through the Great Hall gates, Briec, Fearghus, and Gwenvael stalked in. They’d been off at Devenallt Mountain with their father when everything had gotten out of hand, but Talaith had called for Briec as soon as things had settled. She knew better than to not inform him about a problem involving just one of his “perfect, perfect daughters,” let alone both.
Briec stopped in front of Talaith and Annwyl. Sighing in exasperation, he swung his arms from his body, forcing both Fearghus and Gwenvael to stop in their tracks and lean back before they were hit with his big forearms.
“I leave you females alone for five minutes,” he accused, “and my perfect, perfect daughters end up in danger—again!”
“It wasn’t our fault,” Annwyl argued, the chunk of ice melting into a little pebble against her face.
“Then whose fault is it?”
Annwyl looked at Talaith and together they pointed across the room and said, “Dagmar.”
Startled, the Northlander glared over at them. “Did you treacherous females just throw me under the carriage?”
“Head first,” Annwyl mumbled while reaching for more ice to put on her nose.
“Why don’t we sit down and discuss this?” Éibhear offered.
“What’s there to discuss?” Rhi demanded, flinging her arms in the air. “I’m doomed! We’re all doomed! What’s there to talk about?”
“Well, to start . . . do you want biscuits with the tea I put out?”
Rhi sniffed, nodded. “Biscuits would be nice.”
“Excellent.”
“Wait, wait.” Izzy gawked at them. “Biscuits? Tea? What are you two talking about?”
Éibhear and Rhi smiled at each other before Éibhear explained, “We can’t sit around discussing pure evil without tea and biscuits, Iz. It’s just not done.”
Fearghus crouched in front of Annwyl and took the chunk of ice she had pressed to her skin. He sighed when he saw her damaged face. “Your head certainly takes more abuse than the rest of you.”
The commander walked off, her witches following, heading toward the nearby forests.
When they were gone, Dagmar looked at Rhiannon’s claw and then up at Rhiannon herself. “Very subtle, my liege.”
“Oh, my dearest girl, I’m a dragon. I’m never subtle. Have you learned nothing from my son?”
Izzy first tracked down Brastias and asked him to get Gaius and Agrippina and to keep them safe. Especially now. Annwyl would be even more . . . well, on edge, after this little event. So Izzy didn’t want her queen killing anyone by accident. Izzy also sent one of the squires to track down Bram so that he could meet Gaius and find out what had him so concerned now, after all these years, that he’d risk coming to Annwyl’s territory without warning.
Once she’d taken care of all that, she ran back to her house. She walked inside and found a human and dressed Éibhear making tea, and her sister sitting on her bed—staring.
To be honest, Izzy had expected tears. Sobbing. That’s what her sister usually did after this sort of thing. She sobbed. Hysterically. Sobbed until she practically passed out from exhaustion. But not this time. This time she simply sat and stared.
When Izzy came through the door, Éibhear looked at her over his shoulder and frowned, gave a short head shake.
She went and sat beside Rhi, patted her sister’s knee. “Everyone’s fine. You haven’t hurt anyone.” Odda, of course, didn’t count because their grandmother had killed her.
“Uh-huh.”
“So you don’t need to worry.”
“Okay.”
“What is it, Rhi? Just say it.”
“There’s nothing to say.”
“It’s me, Rhi. I know you. There’s something you want to say so just—”
“I’m going to kill everyone!”
Startled at the yelling and the statement, Izzy pulled her hand back from her sister. “What?”
“Don’t you see?” Rhi stood, began pacing. “That’s where I’m headed. I’m going to end up killing everyone I love or, even worse, betraying them.”
“Why would you think such a thing?”
“Because I’m a font of pure, unbridled evil! How can you not see that?”
Izzy stood. “Who told you that?”
Rhi huffed at that. “No one has to tell me anything,” she said defensively, which made Izzy think that someone had said something to her. “I just know. I feel it inside me, waiting to be unleashed by my uncontrollable rage!”
Izzy glanced over at Éibhear, but all he could do was shrug. He was as confused as she was.
“What does Mum say? Dad? Gram?”
“Nothing. No one ever says anything to me. I’m sure it’s because they’ve resigned themselves to their fate and they’re merely waiting for death to come to them all.”
Izzy rubbed her eyes with her fists, then asked again, “What?”
Talaith carefully placed a piece of ice on the bridge of Annwyl’s nose where the swelling was the worst.
“How does that feel?”
Annwyl shrugged at her question and Talaith crouched next to Annwyl’s chair, placing her hand on her friend’s arm. “Don’t worry. We’ll figure this all out.”
Her friend looked at her, one eye black and a bruise on her cheek. “Do you really believe that?”
“No. But I’m trying to be hopeful.”
Through the Great Hall gates, Briec, Fearghus, and Gwenvael stalked in. They’d been off at Devenallt Mountain with their father when everything had gotten out of hand, but Talaith had called for Briec as soon as things had settled. She knew better than to not inform him about a problem involving just one of his “perfect, perfect daughters,” let alone both.
Briec stopped in front of Talaith and Annwyl. Sighing in exasperation, he swung his arms from his body, forcing both Fearghus and Gwenvael to stop in their tracks and lean back before they were hit with his big forearms.
“I leave you females alone for five minutes,” he accused, “and my perfect, perfect daughters end up in danger—again!”
“It wasn’t our fault,” Annwyl argued, the chunk of ice melting into a little pebble against her face.
“Then whose fault is it?”
Annwyl looked at Talaith and together they pointed across the room and said, “Dagmar.”
Startled, the Northlander glared over at them. “Did you treacherous females just throw me under the carriage?”
“Head first,” Annwyl mumbled while reaching for more ice to put on her nose.
“Why don’t we sit down and discuss this?” Éibhear offered.
“What’s there to discuss?” Rhi demanded, flinging her arms in the air. “I’m doomed! We’re all doomed! What’s there to talk about?”
“Well, to start . . . do you want biscuits with the tea I put out?”
Rhi sniffed, nodded. “Biscuits would be nice.”
“Excellent.”
“Wait, wait.” Izzy gawked at them. “Biscuits? Tea? What are you two talking about?”
Éibhear and Rhi smiled at each other before Éibhear explained, “We can’t sit around discussing pure evil without tea and biscuits, Iz. It’s just not done.”
Fearghus crouched in front of Annwyl and took the chunk of ice she had pressed to her skin. He sighed when he saw her damaged face. “Your head certainly takes more abuse than the rest of you.”
