Light My Fire. G.A. Aiken

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СКАЧАТЬ the Rider exclaimed, dismissing Briec’s words with a hand swiped through the air. It was so amusing to see someone other than Talaith taunt Briec so brazenly that Celyn and Gwenvael glanced at each other and grinned.

      “You brag and brag, Briec the Mighty. But who among you has not killed an enemy while he begs for mercy, laughing as he dies in pain and torment?”

      For some unfathomable reason, Dagmar Reinholdt raised her hand at that, which got her bewildered stares from everyone in the room.

      “She said who here has not killed an enemy. . . . She didn’t say anything about having your enemies killed, now did she?” Dagmar announced, her tone smug.

      “Our people,” the Rider went on, “share what we have with our other tribesmen. Those who have less, get some from others. Then we all have equal.”

      “No.” Briec shook his head. “I don’t like that idea. What’s mine is mine.”

      “Would you not share with your brothers?”

      “No,” all the brothers replied.

      “You are very pretty.” Elina stared. “But very sad.” She gestured with her bread. “All we have is each other. Without that, we are nothing.”

      “I am a dragon. I don’t need anyone else.”

      Talaith threw up her hands. “Thank you very much!”

      “I’m not talking about you, so there’s no reason to get hysterical.”

      “Hysterical?”

      “She’s going to kill you in your sleep,” Fearghus noted when Talaith glared at Briec. “And I wouldn’t blame her.”

      “So,” Celyn cut in, “your people share everything?”

      The Rider did not turn to look at him so much as her bright blue eyes simply cut his way. Kind of like when a wolf sensed Celyn was near . . . and knew that Celyn was hungry.

      “We share our food. Our clothing. Anything to keep everyone healthy . . . and strong. You cannot have defenses when some of your people starve and others are dying from diseases simple to fix.”

      “What are,” Morfyd suddenly asked, “your people’s feelings on dragons . . . and the dragon-human offspring?”

      “You mean Abominations?”

      Eyes widened, bodies tensed, hurried words spouted, and Fearghus readied himself to tackle his mate and take her to the ground in seconds. The panic among Celyn’s kin was palpable. But then, Annwyl raised her hands to quiet down everyone who felt the need to say, in some form or another, “I’m sure she didn’t mean it that way, Annwyl!”

      “Wait, wait,” Annwyl ordered calmly. “Don’t everyone panic.” Leaning forward a bit more than she already was, Annwyl asked the Rider, “What does that mean to you?”

      “Abomination?” The Rider shrugged, bit off a hunk of bread, chewed, then finally answered, “It means the offspring of dragons and humans are unholy mixes of death and evil, born to destroy the world as we know it.”

      Huh, Celyn thought to himself, maybe I won’t have to go to the Outerplains tomorrow, but I may have to bury a body. . . .

      Annwyl raised one forefinger, holding Fearghus at bay, since, based on the black smoke pouring from his nostrils . . . he was not happy about anything the Rider had said and would now happily allow his mate to cut off the woman’s head.

      Not that Elina Shestakova noticed any of that. She was still chewing . . . and staring at the wall behind Dagmar’s head.

      “But,” the woman continued on, “change is good. Without change comes age and death. We, as a species, cannot have that. We need new blood. Even if it is dragon blood, which according to our Elders is the most evil of all blood. But I am not sure I believe that after meeting Bram the Merciful. Would have still believed that if I had only met the dolt.”

      Annwyl leaned back, smiling. “See? You really have to wait for her to finish her thought.”

      Elina lifted a puppy off the floor. She liked dogs. They were like small horses you could not ride.

      “Your paws are huge,” she told the pup, their noses touching. “Like big shovels. Maybe you will be horse one day.”

      “Dagmar breeds those dogs for battle.” The Dolt sat down beside her. The other members of the household had finished eating and were now off in different corners of the Great Hall, chatting or wandering outside to enjoy the night. “Do you like dogs?” he asked.

      “You want to eat him,” Elina accused.

      “No.” He patted his stomach. “I’m full.”

      “What do you want, dragon?” she asked, already annoyed by him. She just wanted to play with the puppy. To spend one night enjoying the decadence of these Southlanders. Without guilt. Without worry. Without feeling like a failure to her people.

      “We got off on the wrong claw.”

      “Wrong claw?”

      “I’m sorry I left you—”

      “To die?”

      He barely stopped himself from rolling his eyes. Rude bastard. “I didn’t leave you to die. If I wanted to do that, I could have left you staked out on top of Devenallt Mountain. Eventually someone would have gotten a little hungry.” He let out a breath. “We’ve got a rather long trip ahead of us, and I think we should start over.”

      “There is no starting over. It is what it is.” She stood up, the puppy in her arms. “We tolerate each other because I owe your queen for her kindness to me. I’ll put up with you because of her. But that is all. We will not be friends. We will not get along. We may have sex, but it will be cold and impersonal. Just something to pass time during long nights. So do not come to me with your wrong claws. I have no use for your wrong claws.”

      Feeling that they now understood each other, Elina cuddled the sleeping puppy closer and followed a servant up to a room. A room she would not have to share with anyone.

      So decadent!

      Celyn didn’t know how long he had been sitting there, staring at the wall.

      “What happened?” Brannie asked as she sat down next to him. Izzy sat on the table, her long legs hanging over the edge. And Éibhear sat between him and Izzy.

      “I’m not really sure,” Celyn admitted.

      “What did she say?” Éibhear asked.

      “She basically said . . . she does not like me. We would not be friends. And if we had sex, it would be only because she was bored. Long nights and all.”

      “The suns are setting earlier,” Éibhear noted.

      Celyn gazed at his cousin, but he had nothing to say to him. Because as book smart as the blue dragon was, as battle-ready . . . he could be kind of stupid.

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