“It’s not like we have much of a choice.”

Rhian, as always, was right.

Morfyd closed her eyes and, using her mind, she called out.

Mother ...

Chapter Four

Without wings or clothes and on their human feet, the small group made it several miles from their enemies. It was at times like this that Branwen wondered how humans did it. How did they go on, day to day, without wings, practically hobbled by their tiny feet? It wasn’t that she had to use her wings all the time—it was knowing that she could that made all the difference.

But now, in order to avoid alerting any of the Zealots lurking in the trees—probably on the lookout for enemy dragons—they had to stay on the ground. They had to move silently. On their tiny human feet.

She wouldn’t call all this hell, exactly, but it was close.

Thankfully Caswyn eventually woke up and was able to at least drag his feet along, his arm over Brannie’s shoulders. She was grateful for that bit of help. After two, three hours, the big bastard had gotten heavy.

Five hours in, the enemy legions behind them, Brannie stopped.

“What are we doing?” Aidan asked, Uther limping not far behind. He’d quickly gotten fed up with being “made to feel weak!” But Aidan had kept close, helping when needed to keep his friend moving on their long, wingless journey.

“I think this is a good place to turn around and head back.”

“Head back?” Aidan frowned. “Head back to where?”

“To our troops. To Izzy and Éibhear. To everyone.”

“That does not sound like a good idea, Branwen.”

Brannie focused on Aidan, her gaze narrowing. “You want to run away?”

“We already ran away. But if we’re going back, I want to take a more logical course than the one that will lead us directly into the arms of our enemies.”

“Which is what way?”

He took a moment to look around, examining the area, before pointing. “That way. We go down to—”

“That’ll take us completely off course.”

“If you’d let me finish . . .” When Brannie folded her arms over her chest and began tapping her foot, Aidan went on. “We go down that way through the next few towns. Then we turn back and follow around the Big Lakes of Rhionganedd. That will allow us to—”

“Lose days,” Brannie cut in. “Absolute days, if not more than a week. I won’t do it. We’ll go this way.”

“No. We won’t.”

Brannie didn’t know how it happened. How she and Aidan found themselves almost nose to nose, their anger palpable. Logically she knew they were both exhausted and feared greatly for their comrades. But that didn’t seem to matter at the moment as the pair squared off against each other.

“We are not about to sacrifice ourselves on the altar of your guilt.”

“What the battle-fuck does that even mean?” Brannie exploded.

“It means you need to stop blaming yourself for what happened. You had nothing to do with this.”

“I never said—”

“And we’re not about to run into a battle we can’t possible win because you feel guilty!”

“I do not feel guilty!”

“Liar!”

“Oy!” Brannie thought she heard the sound coming from behind her, but chose to ignore it.

“Don’t you dare call me a liar,” Brannie warned.

Aidan leaned in even closer, their noses now touching, and snarled, “Liar.”

“Oy!”

Startled, the pair parted and looked at Uther, who may have been trying to insert himself into their conversation for quite some time.

“What?” Aidan barked.

Uther pointed with his good arm. “That.”

Brannie looked down the opposite side of the road and watched four horses pulling a carriage, happily trotting along.

The animals began walking toward them until the horses reached them and stopped.

Brannie immediately began petting one. “They don’t seem hurt,” she noted. “Or frightened. Anyone in the carriage?”

Aidan opened the door of the elaborately designed vehicle and leaned in. “No. It’s empty.”

Brannie stepped away from the horse and walked past the carriage. She gazed down the road, trying to see if someone was running after the animals. But she saw no one and she didn’t have the time to look.

An expensive carriage like this . . . “Is there blood?” she asked Aidan.

“No.”

Brannie waited a bit longer, but when she still saw no one looking for the carriage, she announced, “We’ll take the horses.” But when she turned she saw that Aidan had already unhooked the horses and was handing the leather straps off to Uther and Caswyn so the horses could be easily led around.

When he handed her the straps of the horse she’d petted, he asked, “What?”

“I hadn’t said yet that we were taking the horses.”

“You just did.”

“But you were already unhooking the horses from the carriage before I said anything.”

“Because I knew you’d be logical about this.”

“I hadn’t given the order.”

“Oh. I understand. You seem to think of me as someone who actually reports to you. I don’t.”

“You two,” Caswyn gasped out as Uther somehow managed to help him mount one of the bigger horses. “Before you start again with all the arguing, think I can get a drink of water before I die a long and painful death?”

“No,” Brannie immediately replied.

“Of course,” Aidan said at the same time.

They glared at each other.

“Please,” Caswyn practically begged. “I’m thirsty and I’m almost positive I’m bleeding internally.”

Deciding that arguing with Aidan at this moment wouldn’t be in anyone’s best interest, Brannie easily mounted her unsaddled horse and wrapped the thick leather straps around her hands. She turned her horse and headed back from where the animal came from, assuming water would be that way if someone had been traveling from that direction. She didn’t know this area well and didn’t want to end up taking them to waterless territory.

After a solid fifteen minutes, Uther called a halt and pointed into the trees next to the road. “I hear running water. That way.”

“Uther, stay with Caswyn. Aidan and I will bring water back for you.”

Thinking the horses might need water too, she and Aidan brought them along. Brannie dismounted and led the horses in carefully. As they moved, she realized how much sound the animals made even on this mossy ground and thought about finding material that they could wrap around the horses’ hooves to silence them. The Daughters of the Steppes were known for doing that when they wanted to sneak up on an enemy, and Brannie was more than happy to try their tricks when necessary.

After a short walk, they reached what turned out to be a pond. What Uther had heard, though, was the small waterfall that fed it.

Brannie released the horses, assuming the animals would follow on their own, and went the last few steps to the pond. She dropped on her knees and scooped up the water with her hands. As she brought the clear liquid to her lips, she noticed that the horses not only didn’t follow her, but they were backing up.

She was watching them, baffled, when she heard a familiar female voice suggest, “I wouldn’t drink that if I were you.”

Brannie quickly looked across the pond and with a gasp, quickly slapped Aidan’s hands, knocking the water he’d just scooped up away from his mouth.

“Hey!” Aidan complained. “What was that for?”

Brannie pointed. “Her.”

* * *

Aidan stared in confusion at Keita the Viper in her human form. Actually, her full name was Keita the Red Viper Dragon of Despair and Death, Princess of the House of Gwalchmai fab Gwyar, Second Born Daughter and Fourth Born Offspring of Queen Rhiannon and Bercelak the Great.

But most just called her Keita the Viper. It was easier.

She stood on the other side of the pond, looking beautiful and very royal in a purple silk gown covered in a darker purple cape, the hood pulled up so that it almost covered her long red hair, but not really. There was enough there to tantalize any dragon or man who might want to see more.