How to Drive a Dragon Crazy Read online

“The Rebel King? He’s here?”

  “With his sister. He came to see Uncle Bram. He wants an audience with Annwyl and Rhiannon.”

  “Gods. This can’t be good.” Talaith held her hand out to her daughter. “I’ll ride with you. I’m sure Annwyl’s at the—”

  Talaith’s words stopped abruptly and her gaze focused on the other side of Izzy’s horse. Izzy looked over at the forest but didn’t see anything.

  “Mum?”

  Talaith blinked, then caught hold of Izzy’s arm. “Your sister,” was all she said. All she needed to say.

  Izzy hauled her mum onto her horse and looked at Gaius over her shoulder. “Wait here. Someone will be back for you.”

  “All right.”

  “Macsen. Stay. Protect!”

  “Izzy,” Éibhear asked from above her, the power of his wings making the forest trees sway. “What is it?”

  “Just follow,” her mother ordered and Izzy spurred her horse toward home.

  Talan tried to stop his cousin, but she’d always been stronger than she looked and she easily pulled away from him, stepping between an advancing witch and his unconscious mother.

  “Please,” Rhi begged as she quickly cut in front of the witch. She brought up her arm, most likely to ward the witch off, but this was a Kyvich and as far as the Kyvich were concerned, Little Rhi was no more than a Nolwenn witch. Their most hated enemies.

  Rhi hadn’t even touched the witch, but the Kyvich grabbed his cousin’s arm and twisted. He and his sister locked gazes across the ring, but neither moved to intercede, to step in. But Talan was much kinder than his sister and offered the following advice, “I wouldn’t do that if I were you, Odda.”

  Not surprisingly, the witch ignored him. She’d never liked him. None of them really had. They were only interested in his sister. To the Kyvich, she was the true power. But their narrow vision would be their enemy when it came to the three of them.

  Like at this moment. This very moment.

  Talaith dismounted her daughter’s horse, Izzy right behind her. She slapped the horse’s rump and sent him running toward the stables.

  With one quick look at the training ring, Talaith could easily see what was going on. Yet she knew as she stepped closer, it was already too late. She was too late. She grabbed her eldest daughter’s arm before she could run in there and do what she always did when it came to her sister. Protect her.

  “Mum?” Izzy asked.

  With no time, Talaith yelled out, “Éibhear! Take her!”

  “Mum!”

  “Take her!”

  A blue tail with a sharpened steel-like tip came down and wrapped around her daughter’s waist, yanking Izzy up. Talaith charged a few feet over and landed in the dirt in front of a nearly unconscious Annwyl, her hands coming up, a powerful chant on her lips, a mere second before everything around them exploded.

  Dagmar was rushing toward the Great Hall doors, Frederik by her side. She saw Morfyd running down the stairs and she motioned to her.

  “You’d best come along, Morfyd. We may need you to—”

  Morfyd’s arms went around Dagmar and Frederik and she yanked them both back, a spitted-out chant slamming the heavy wood doors shut. They hit the floor in a heap as the ground beneath them suddenly shook.

  Dagmar quickly covered her head as weapons and tapestries that had been tacked to the walls began to crash around them, the long dining table they ate at nearly every day moving several feet while the chairs turned over.

  And just as quickly as it started . . . it stopped.

  Dagmar lifted her head, glad to see that her spectacles had survived this new . . . issue.

  “What the battle-fuck was that?” she demanded.

  Morfyd helped Frederik sit up, taking a moment to look him over for any damage before saying, “Rhi.”

  One second Izzy was being dragged away from her mother and plopped onto Éibhear’s back and the next he was bellowing, “Down!”

  She took hold of his hair and ducked between his shoulder blades. Seconds later they were flipping and spinning out of control, heading up and up until Izzy briefly wondered if she could reach out and touch the clouds.

  It seemed to take forever for Éibhear to get control again, but it was probably not even a minute. When he finally got himself righted and was able to hover, Izzy raised her head and demanded, “What the hells is going on?”

  “I don’t know.” He shook his head. “I really don’t know.”

  Izzy leaned over the tiniest bit so that she could look around Éibhear. That’s when she realized how far away they were from actual ground. In fact, as many times as Izzy had ridden on the back of a dragon, she’d never been this high before.

  “Rhi,” she said softly.

  “What?”

  “Rhi did this.”

  “That’s impossible,” Éibhear argued, his head turning enough to look at her. “She’s just a little—”

  They stared at each other for a very long moment until Izzy ordered, “Get me down there now.”

  Éibhear spun around. “Hold on.” Then he sped back to the earth below.

  Éibhear wanted to know what the mighty hells was going on, too, but his curiosity would have to wait. His main concern was getting his little niece to safety.

  He’d known from her birth that Rhi was powerful. Magicks flowed through her like water through a river. Even he could see it, and the world of Magicks was not where his skills lay. But he hadn’t realized until now exactly how powerful the girl truly was, and why his kin were so concerned.

  Although it wasn’t her lack of control that had them worried—it was the fact that others would want that power for themselves or to destroy it. Which made his little niece very vulnerable, unlike her cousins who had never been vulnerable a day in their lives.

  As Éibhear neared the ground, he felt Izzy stand up on his back.

  “Take Rhi out of here!” she yelled over the rushing winds. “Find my house! I’ll meet you!”

  “And what are you going to—Izzy!”

  But it was too late. The crazed female charged over his head and dived off his snout like she was diving off a cliff into the ocean. He tried to grab her, but she flipped past him, and landed on Brannie, who’d come up under him. She grabbed hold of Brannie’s mane and held on until Brannie dropped a bit lower; then she let go.

  Letting out a sigh—and suddenly understanding why Talaith worried about her eldest daughter all the time—Éibhear dived down. He saw Rhi just standing there. He knew even if he screamed at her to run, she’d continue to stand there. Unable to move. Unable to function.

  Izzy landed in front of Rhi, her body in a crouch, her sword out. After a breath, she stood tall, her mother moving in beside her.

  Knowing Izzy and Talaith could take care of themselves, he did what he’d just done to Izzy. Using his tail, he snatched his niece up and yanked her out of what was about to become a very dangerous situation.

  He knew it was about to become dangerous because Annwyl the Bloody had just picked herself up off the ground, while Morfyd the White and The Northland Beast were coming out of the Great Hall and heading to the training ring.

  Aye . . . dangerous indeed.

  Chapter 22

  Izzy stood by her mother, her head lowered, gaze locked on the three witches who stood across from them. Unlike the others near the training ring, the witches weren’t on the ground, trying to pick themselves up. Instead, they were standing tall, the witch named Odda had her hand raised, and Izzy sensed she’d surrounded herself and her comrades with some kind of protective wall. Talaith probably had done the same thing for the twins and Annwyl, the queen currently getting to her feet while Talan went to his sister’s side.

  “Your daughter’s strength has grown, Nolwenn,” Odda said to Talaith, her fingers closing. She tightened her hand into a fist, her knuckles cracking. “She seems to have outgrown you, this place.”

  “Mind your own, Kyvich,” Talaith shot back. “Or my daughter wil
l be the least of your worries.”

  “Really?” Odda asked, suddenly moving forward. “And what will you do, Nolwenn, when she’s unable to restrain her power and she kills someone you care about? Or destroys your little utopian kingdom here?” The witch stopped a few feet away from Talaith. “You know what has to be done. Just do it already.”

  Izzy quickly cut between her mother and Odda, her sword out and ready, her body tense.

  “Stay away from my sister.”

  “Or what, General?” Odda asked, her smile smug. “What can you do to a Kyv—”

  The witch’s words were cut off and Izzy stumbled back into her mother as a white claw slammed into the ground, smashing the witch into the earth.

  Izzy looked up at the dragoness standing over her. Her grandmother smiled. “What did I miss? I sensed I was missing something!”

  Rhiannon looked down at her claws. “Did I step in something? I feel like I stepped in something.”

  Izzy covered her mouth with her free hand, desperately trying to stop the laughter and failing miserably at it.

  Behind Rhiannon, Commander Ásta walked toward the training ring, the rest of the Kyvich falling in behind her. Rhiannon saw them and looked back at Izzy.

  “My dearest Iseabail, do be a dear and check on your sister for us.”

  “Yes, ma’am.” Izzy turned to her mother, winked. “Let me know when it’s safe to come back,” she said low; then she went off in search of Éibhear and her sister.

  Rhiannon had been in a valley not far from Garbhán Isle, indulging in some grazing cattle, when she’d felt her granddaughter’s panic and anger, felt her Magicks growing beyond her slim body. She’d raced here, afraid of what she’d find. Afraid of what her granddaughter might have done. But looking around, Rhiannon saw that once again, they’d all gotten off easy. But how much longer would they?

  Shaking her head and making a most annoying “tsking” sound, the Kyvich commander walked around the fence, her gaze on Rhiannon.

  “This is a bit of a mess, isn’t it?”

  “Started by your people,” Rhiannon replied.

  “Of course. And I do apologize.” She motioned to the two witches that had been with the one currently splattered across the bottom of Rhiannon’s claw, and dismissed them. Rhiannon knew she had landed on her, but she didn’t like that particular witch anyway. Hadn’t from the beginning.

  “I think, Commander Ásta,” and that came from Dagmar on the other side of the fence beside Morfyd, “the time has come for us to reexamine our agreement. The twins are now eighteen and you aren’t protecting Rhianwen.”

  “Very true, but—”

  “So I think it’s time to end this,” Dagmar stated calmly. Her hands were folded primly in front of her, her steel-grey eyes focused on the commander. As always, Dagmar Reinholdt showed no fear, no doubt, no anger. She wasted no words and was unbelievably polite, but none of them were fooled. None of them ever would be. “You need not run out of here this very moment, of course. It’s been so many years, I’m sure you have ties, connections, you’ll need to address. But I think for all concerned . . .”

  “Of course, Lady Dagmar. I understand. Perhaps we can talk before we move on.”

  “Absolutely. We owe you and the Kyvich a great debt. We’ll not forget.”

  “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 doom
ed! 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.”

  “They’re all jealous of my astounding beauty. So that’s what they try to destroy.”

  Smiling, just glad she was okay, Fearghus leaned in and kissed his mate’s cheek. “Are you sure you’re all right?” he asked her low, while Briec and Talaith argued on the other side of the table and Gwenvael and Dagmar quietly plotted in the far corner of the room.

  “I’m fine. Feel a bit foolish, though. I learned long ago never go straight for a Kyvich. I should have snuck up on the twat.”

  “I thought you were just going on a picnic,” he reminded his mate.

  Annwyl looked off and instead of replying to his statement, she said, “She admires them, you know. Wants to be them.”

  “Who? Talwyn? Our Talwyn? Annwyl, I honestly don’t think Talwyn admires or wants to be like anyone. Our daughter is uniquely horrifying.... That’s why I love her.”

  “Then what—”

  “It’s knowledge our girl craves, Annwyl. She uses the Kyvich as she uses everyone else she thinks can teach her something.”

  “They want her for one of their own, Fearghus. And they’re not going to let me stand in their way.”

  “They’ll never have her, luv. Not really. Not like they think they will. Talwyn’s soul belongs only to her. I thought you knew that.”