Although Brannie still had on her chain mail leggings, her shirt and boots were lying across the tent with her travel bag. Of course, she could shift to dragon but she might hurt Bolormaa and, as far as she could tell, the shamaness had helped her. So that would have to be a last ditch option.

She pressed the cloth against her head and made a quick scan of the room, looking for something she could turn into a weapon while letting her cousin do what she did so well.

Annoy people.

“Batu!” Keita cheered, throwing her arms around the big man with braided hair and a large, long beard. “I’m so glad you’re here! Brannie just woke up. Branwen, this is Batu the Iron Hearted. Batu, this is Brannie.”

Brannie eyed Batu—the brutal leader of these tribes—and he eyed her back.

“You,” he said, turning his attention to Keita, “did not tell me everything.”

“What didn’t I tell you?”

“You are not human.”

“Oh, gods no!” Keita laughed. “Wouldn’t that be horrible? Yuck!”

“Keita!” Brannie barked.

She dismissed Brannie with a wave. “Ignore her. She’s very sensitive to the needs of humans.”

“She looks like man.”

“Fuck you,” Brannie snapped back.

“Now, now. Everyone be calm. It’s important we get this moving.”

“Get what moving?” Batu demanded. “You need to leave, She-dragon.”

“Why would you throw me out when I can give you what you want?”

“What? What can you give me?”

Keita’s grin was ridiculously wide. “An alliance . . . with the Empress.”

Frowning, Batu stared at Keita. Then he turned to Brannie.

They both exploded into hysterical laughter at the same time.

Keita crossed her arms over her chest and tapped one bare foot.

“And what, exactly, do you two think is so funny?”

“You!” they laughingly yelled out at the same time.

* * *

Aidan moved deeper into the palace’s first floor.

The ceilings were so high and the room itself so big, that he was really tempted to call out to see if his voice echoed.

Gods, he didn’t want to be here. He didn’t want to be doing this. He wanted to be with Brannie. He wanted to know she was safe. What if he never saw her again?

A small group of Eastland dragons in their human form stood in a circle across the hall. They were whispering and seemed concerned about something. Probably palace politics, which Aidan assumed were just like court politics.

Now standing in the middle of the hall, Aidan looked around and wondered what he should do next. Keep standing here? Find a room for everyone? Melt one of the gold dragon statues with his flame?

Aidan almost smiled at his ridiculous thoughts but then someone slammed into his back, which seemed rather on purpose since there was no one else in the entire giant room other than his small group and the small group of Eastland dragons.

“Sorry,” the She-dragon in human form muttered, her focus locked on the Eastland dragons, which was probably why she’d walked into him. She was dressed in worn clothes and boots, a longbow slung over her shoulder along with a quiver of arrows. She was tall and lean; her black-and-dark red hair was in a loose, rather messy braid that nearly reached her feet.

She stopped and looked directly at the Eastland dragons.

“What are you all doing here?” she called out.

“We’ve come to see the Empress,” one of the dragons volunteered. “We have a very important mess—”

She waved her hand at the group and turned from them, effectively dismissing them in mid-request. She looked next at Aidan.

“And who are you?”

“I’m Aidan the Divine.”

“A Southlander. Does the Empress know you’re here?”

“Well—”

She rolled her eyes and started walking. “Just come on. Don’t dawdle!”

Aidan began to follow. He had no idea who this female was but she seemed to be in charge. Maybe she was. Maybe she was the Empress despite the fact that she seemed way too young. But the Empress was a very powerful shamaness, with abilities similar to Rhiannon’s. Maybe she had a way of staying young.

Aidan shook his head. Now he was overthinking and coming to ridiculous conclusions like Brannie.

“Wait!” the Eastland dragon called out. “We must speak to the—”

“Shut up!” the female snarled back.

She led Aidan and the others behind several extremely large gold statues of big cats and into a marble hallway.

“Keep up!” she ordered.

Aidan followed her down several long hallways until they reached a wooden door. Soldiers in elaborate gold armor stood outside and they immediately jumped to attention when they saw her. One opened his mouth to say something but she held up a finger and snapped, “Quiet!”

She pushed the door open and motioned Aidan and the others in.

“Move! Hustle!”

Aidan, Uther, and Caswyn quickly walked in as ordered. But the Riders strolled in a little more slowly, taking their sweet-ass-Rider time.

“Do you not understand the word move?” the She-dragon asked.

“We understand,” Kachka replied, “we just ignore.”

“Barbarians,” she muttered before slamming the door and walking across the small room—small compared to the rest of the palace anyway—to another door, which she opened.

She gestured with a crook of her finger. “Come on.” She walked in.

Aidan again followed her, but stopped as soon as he stepped into the room. There were five more Eastland dragons in the room. Two males and three females. But it was the one wearing a gold dress and intricate gold nail guards on the pinky and ring fingers of both hands and sitting in a plain wood chair who simply had to be the Empress.

Her long black hair was pulled into a large bun at the back of her head and covered in decorative pieces of gold shaped into flowers. Dark brown eyes looked Aidan over and bare feet stuck out from under that gold dress, reminding him of Keita.

Unlike Keita, however, the Empress appeared worried, the fingers not wearing pointed nail guards rubbing her forehead, her elbow resting on the arm of the chair.

“Who is this?” the Empress asked, gesturing to Aidan with her free hand.

“Southland dragons and some barbarian women,” said the She-dragon who’d escorted them into the room. “I thought you’d want to see them right away.”

“Why would I want to see them right away?”

“They’re Southlanders.”

“What? You think all Southlanders know each other?” She looked Aidan and the others over. “As if my Keita would be involved with any of this riffraff.”

One of the Eastland males sighed and added for Aidan’s benefit, “No offense.”

Slapping her hand against the arm of the chair, the Empress sat up straight and snarled, “I don’t care if I offend them! I don’t care if I offend the entire universe!” She pointed at the male who’d spoken. “My baby is still gone and I’m tired of going back and forth with those idiots!”

“We’ll get him back.”

“And,” another female reminded her, “he’s not your only baby.”

Leaning forward, the Empress snarled, “He’s the only one that matters.”

“Ma!” several of the Eastland dragons yelled at the Empress.

“Do you want me to lie to all of you?”

“It’d be a nice change of pace,” one of them complained.

The Empress waved her hand at her own offspring and focused again on Aidan.

“So, Southlander, who are you?”

“Uh . . . I’m Aidan the Divine of the House of Foulkes de Chuid Fennah. Third son of Jarlath and Gormlaith—”

Holding up her hand, the Empress cut him off. She took a moment to look him over completely before asking, “You’re a Southlander royal?”

Aidan glanced down at himself. “Cut me some slack. It’s been a rough few days.”

* * *

“You are foolish She-dragon if you think you can make me and your Empress friends.”