“Mum,” Bercelak kindly said, their mother being one of the few dragons he showed any true respect for. “We can’t just dismiss this. Whether it was Addiena or her mother, this is something that would be considered treachery by any who held the throne.”

“He’s right,” Braith said softly, her gaze now on Shalin. “I don’t know why my father did this, whether he has intentions of taking the throne for himself or for someone who has offered him more than Addiena. But whatever his reason, this cannot be ignored. It has to be dealt with.”

“Aye, it does,” Brigida announced as she made her slow way back into the hall. She had her walking stick in one hand and a jug of Ailean’s ale in the other.

“And what do you suggest, Auntie Brigida?” Ghleanna asked.

Brigida stopped by Bercelak’s side and began to tap him on the head with her walking stick. With an annoyed growl, Bercelak got the hint and moved out of the chair and into another one while Brigida took his place and slowly settled her ancient human body at the table.

“I don’t know. But I think until we come up with something, we need to stash Lady Fisticuffs away some place safe.”

“What about your own kin, female?” Bercelak asked Braith.

“You mean the kin who just turned on the Queen and made me into a walking target?” Braith asked, her attention still on those chains.

“No. I was thinking more your mother—”

“Is dead.”

“I know,” Bercelak snarled. “But if I recall, your mother has sisters, aunts—”

“No. Going to my Penarddun kin is not an option,” she said simply.

Shalin leaned forward. “Braith, dear, why ever not? The Penarddun She-dragons are very loyal . . . to their daughters.”

“My mother’s kin made it perfectly clear to me after she died that they wanted nothing to do with me.”

“Did you ever tell them how you feel?” Shalin asked her.

Braith winced. “I’m not good at that sort of thing.”

“Your mother passed years ago,” Bercelak told Braith. “Are you trying to tell me that in this instance they won’t—”

“Yes. I’m telling you they won’t . . . ahaaaaaaa!” she abruptly crowed, startling everyone at the table. She held up her still-cuffed hands, but now the chain between the cuffs was in two distinct pieces. “Got it!”

She’d pulled the steel chains with her fingers until she’d broken them apart. Something that amazed every Cadwaladr in the room.

Addolgar looked at a shocked Ghleanna and Bercelak, then back at a smiling Braith. “You do know that dwarves made those chains, don’t you?” he asked.

Braith studied the chains she’d separated with her bare hands. “So?”

“So?” Bercelak snapped, his head wound briefly forgotten. “Dwarves, female. The ones who share the caves with the Volcano dragons. They make chains that can’t be broken by anyone, especially dragons.”

“Well, these are pretty old.”

“It’s dwarf steel. It doesn’t matter if it was made at the time the gods were born.”

“Your point?” Braith demanded of Bercelak.

“I don’t know what my point is!” Bercelak exploded, but he immediately seemed to regret it, his hand going to his head. “Gods, my head hurts.”

“Sorry about that,” Braith muttered, cringing at his wound.

Bercelak stared at Braith for several long moments until he said, “Arranz.”

Addolgar nodded. “Aye,” he said to Braith. “Those are Arranz’s chains. He won’t be happy you broke them.”

“Not the chains, you twit!” Bercelak yelled. “What is wrong with you?”

“Nothing.” Addolgar thought a moment and added, “I don’t think.”

Maelona put another cool cloth against Bercelak’s head and that seemed to calm him.

“Take her to Uncle Arranz’s cave is what I’m trying to tell you.”

“Oh. Oh! That’s an excellent idea, brother.”

“No, Addolgar.” Braith looked at Bercelak. “I appreciate what you’re all trying to do, but I can’t let any of you get more involved than you already are.”

Addolgar was reaching for the back of Braith’s head when Ghleanna snapped, “Addolgar! Don’t you dare do that again!”

Braith looked over just in time to see Addolgar snatch his hand away. “Really? You were going to do that again?”

“You’re not being logical.”

“So you ram my head into the table?”

“If necessary!”

“You can’t help what your father has done, lass,” Brigida noted, almost kindly.

“Who said I want to?”

“It’s plain on your human face,” Brigida said. “But you can’t let your loyalty to blood stop you. Your mother wouldn’t.”

“What do you know of my mother?” Braith snapped.

Addolgar leaned in and said very low, “Careful here. She turned one of our cousins into a lizard once when he questioned her at a family gathering.”

“I knew your mother,” Brigida stated. “Knew your grandmother, too. Strong females, like you. With a streak of honor leagues wide. And you’re just like them. You let your father get away with this and you’ll never forgive yourself.”