The Empress stopped behind her chair, placed her hands on the back, and leaned in. “Well, Aidan the Divine? Is that true? Did Keita know something she needed to tell us?”

Aidan was caught off guard. He’d never imagined he’d have to talk to the Empress himself. He’d assumed that Keita would do the talking and they would all just stand behind her looking tough.

So what was he going to say? Was he going to tell the Empress her youngest son—her “baby”—was dead? Was he also going to tell her that Keita was going to poison them to ensure they didn’t strike back because Ren had died on Southland territory? Was he going to tell them any of that?

Absolutely not!

He shrugged and did what he used to do when his mother asked him questions he knew better than to answer—he lied.

“I don’t know anything, Your Highness.”

The Empress studied Aidan for several long—and terrifying—seconds before she smiled and said, “Of course, of course. Why would she tell any of you anything?”

She moved around her chair and walked toward them. “I’m sure all of you are exhausted after your hard travels. Perhaps a bit of rest and fresh food? Does that sound acceptable?”

“More than acceptable, Your Highness,” Aidan replied, relieved she seemed to be taking his statement as fact.

She stood in front of them now, her forefinger touching her bottom lip. “Now let’s see if I’ve got this right. You’re Aidan, you’re Uther and you’re . . . Caswyn?”

Caswyn nodded. “Yes, my lady.”

“Excellent.” She smiled, then, like a snake, struck, her hand reaching out and wrapping around Caswyn’s throat, eyes rolling back in her head, her body leaning in as she used her magicks to look into Caswyn’s mind so she could find the true story.

She didn’t bother with Aidan because she knew he’d fight to keep her out. But Caswyn, who wasn’t good at keeping his mouth shut in the first place . . .

Gasping, the Empress released Caswyn and stumbled back. Fang and Zhi caught her before she could hit the floor and placed her in her chair.

“Ma? What is it?”

“He’s been lying,” she whispered desperately. “He’s been lying. He’s been lying. He’s been lying.”

“Ma,” Fang begged. “Stop. What did you see?”

“Xing. He’s been lying. He doesn’t have my son.” With tears spilling down her face, the Empress announced, “My Ren . . . my Ren is dead.”

* * *

“You don’t know you’re right,” Brannie argued with her cousin.

“But I’m sure I’m not wrong.”

Brannie shook her head. “Wait . . . what?”

They followed Batu to his war tent. Generals and lower-level tribal leaders waited within, and the one he called Nergi the Knowing came a few seconds later. Batu updated them all on what Keita believed, but from what Brannie could tell, her cousin had no hard evidence. How could she move on any of this without hard evidence?

“Wait,” Brannie cut in when the tribal leaders, all male, began to debate what they should do next. “Before we make any move, we should think about what we’re doing. There’s no guarantee that any of this is correct.”

“Who is this big-shouldered woman,” one of the tribal leaders demanded, “that she believes she can speak among men?”

Brannie, with her head still pounding, her cousin smirking, and some human male attempting to look down on her despite the fact she towered over him, snarled, “I am Branwen the Awful. Captain of the First and Fifteenth Companies of the Dragon Queen’s Armies. Daughter of Ghleanna the Decimator and Bram the Merciful. And best friends forever with Iseabail the Dangerous. That’s who I am. And who the battle-fuck are you?”

Keita eased up behind Brannie and whispered in her ear, “Nicely handled, cousin. Now we can watch the poor fucks completely lose their shit when they realize there are two Southland dragons here.”

The tribal leader, after looking at all the others, finally asked, “You are Branwen the Awful? The Branwen the Awful?”

“I . . . I guess so.” Brannie only knew of one Branwen the Awful.

Suddenly each tribal leader and general dropped to one knee, one fist against the heart, head bowed.

“It is an honor, Captain,” one of them said with great reverence.

Batu, who would bow to no one, put his hand on Branwen’s shoulder and finally smiled. “I knew I liked you for a reason.”

Disgusted, Keita threw up her hands. “You do know that she is no one?” When Brannie snarled at the insult, Keita added, “Other than the cousin I love.”

* * *

They all tried to stop her. Even Aidan, who knew better than to get involved. But the Empress was not to be stopped. She was not to be soothed. She was not to be calmed down.

“Ma, please,” Zhi begged. “We’re supposed to be negotiating with them. Let’s talk to Xing’s ambassadors first. Let’s find out the truth before you do anything rash.”

Without answering, the Empress stormed back into the palace’s main hall and across the giant room to the small group of Eastlanders who still waited for her.

Aidan understood who they were now. They represented Xing and were trying to negotiate for the Empress’s kingdom by using her favorite son. She had been making them wait as a tactic, to pretend she wouldn’t give up everything for Ren of the Chosen.

But Ren of the Chosen was dead. And the Empress’s tenuous hold on her royal rage had snapped with the loss of her offspring.

The Empress swung her arm away from her body and lifted her fist. A blade shot out from under the long-sleeved gold dress she wore, and she rammed the hidden weapon into the belly of the dragon who had tried to talk to Fang not so long ago.

Shocked, the dragon gaped at her. “But . . . Your Majesty . . . Lord Xing and his army—”

She yanked the blade out with such venom that his intestines splattered across her dress and the floor.

The other dragons tried to run, but she stabbed one in the spine, another in the chest, and cut off the last one’s head. She might not be a warrior but, like Rhiannon, the Empress had her skills.

Breathing heavily, she walked away from the delegation as their human bodies shifted back to dragons in death. It was strange seeing a giant catlike head with antlers roll across the main hall. Aidan didn’t really know how to interpret that.

“Ma,” Fang said on a loud sigh. “You shouldn’t have done this. Not until we talked to them.”

“And what about Xing’s army?” Kachka whispered to Aidan.

“Talk? About what?” the Empress demanded of her daughter, her pain so great, Aidan was sure the entire region could feel it. “They killed him! They killed my baby!”

What was there to say to that? Nothing. Until Caswyn’s head jerked up, his eyes focusing on the ceiling.

“What?” Aidan asked.

“Wait for it.” He held up one finger. “Wait for it . . . now!”

Aidan grabbed Kachka and Nina, pulled them in close, and charged to one side. Uther grabbed Zoya, because he was a very brave dragon. Zhi caught hold of his mother around the waist and dove out of the way with his siblings as the first giant lava ball came through the gold wall and exploded in the middle of the floor.

They were just picking themselves up when arrows poured through the hole the lava ball had left. Several landed in Aidan’s back but the chain mail kept them from piercing his spine.

He pushed Kachka and Nina away and shifted to his dragon form, shaking the arrows off.

“Mì-runach!” he bellowed. “With me!”

But before they could burst out of the palace and kill all in their way until they were cut down by their enemies to die with honor, Ju moved in front of them.

“Wait! We can use you and your friends, Southlander,” she told Aidan, “but not if you are all going to be idiots about it.”

Aidan didn’t think he was being an idiot about it until the Riders ran out the doors and right into the battle, Zoya screaming, “Who wants to be first to die before I meet my ancestors?”

Aidan shrugged. “Okay, you may have a point. . . .”