Frustrated, he began using his sword as well, trying to swipe her off. When the sword came at her a third time, she waited until it was near her legs before she jumped to the side and rammed her foot down on the blade, pinning it to the dragon’s back.

He roared in anger and released the weapon, using his tail again to try to stop her. Most likely assuming she couldn’t lift the sword. But Izzy had been playing with dragon swords since the night she’d stolen Éibhear’s from his room when she was a teenager. She grabbed the leather-bound grip, raised the extremely heavy weapon, and swung it once. The blade, sharp, cut through the end of the dragon’s tail. Izzy dropped the sword, no longer needing it, and caught the tail tip before it hit the ground. Taking firm hold of it, she charged the rest of the way up the dragon’s back, ignoring his screams of pain and the blood flying everywhere from his whipping tail, until she was at his neck.

Izzy dropped down, her legs going around his shoulders. She leaned over to grab one of the scales, but then remembered that the Sand dragons’ scales were different from all the others.

Cursing her stupidity, she scrambled back up, kicked the bleeding tail that was now trying to grab her, and charged up the rest of the dragon’s neck and right to the top of his head. She dropped to her knees, raised the tail tip over her head and brought it down into the dragon’s eye.

He screamed in pain and sand exploded out of his snout and mouth. He went back on his haunches, forearms flailing out.

Izzy, losing her grip on the tail tip, flipped back, rolling down the dragon’s spine until her head hit the ground and everything went black.

Fed up with arguing with her daughter, Elisa stormed away. But Haldane followed her, still arguing, as was her way. And yes, it did cross Elisa’s mind to turn her daughter into something that slithers but she fought the urge. It would be a very bad precedent to set.

She did, however, stop, spin around, and yell at her daughter to, “Shut the f**k up, Haldane!”

“I will do no such thing!”

“Elder Elisa!”

Sighing, “What is it, Akila?”

“The dragons are back.”

“Tell them to come back tomorrow. I don’t have time—”

“They’re ripping up the floor of the Great Hall!”

Elisa locked eyes with Akila. “They’re what?”

Éibhear raised the hammer again and again, ramming it into the thick marble floor. With each piece he loosened, one of his comrades tore out the marble and tossed it aside.

“What the holy hells do you think you’re doing?” Elisa yelled up at them. The Mi-runach had all shifted to their natural form so that they could do this as quickly as possible.

“He’s doing what you asked him to do,” Aidan explained calmly.

“What are you talking about?”

“He’s rescuing Vateria.”

“From under our floors? Is he insane? Are you?”

“I wish he was,” Aidan sighed. “But I assure you, we’re not here to harm you. Trust me, my lady. You want us to do this.”

Éibhear brought the hammer down again, hit the marble, and lifted it away.

“Éibhear!” Caswyn said, digging harder. “I think we’re through.”

“Through?” Elisa demanded. “Through to where?”

“To the Cult of Chramnesind’s hiding place,” Aidan told her.

“I told you before, you big oaf. They’re in the desert.”

“No. They’re not.”

“And you know this how?”

Éibhear looked down at Elisa and answered, “From the goddess Eirianwen.” When the witches only stared at him, he added, “Beat that.”

“You mean they’ve been under us all this time?”

“Leeching your power to increase their strength,” Aidan explained.

Éibhear focused on Haldane. “But know this, witch, if Iseabail dies because you were a bitch to her, I’ll be coming back for you.” He nodded at Elisa. “Call your witches from their beds. Anything that comes out of here that’s not us . . . kill it.”

Éibhear focused on the pit his comrades had dug. “Move,” he ordered. They did.

Unfurling his wings, Éibhear took to the air, going up to the tall ceiling. He flipped over and raced toward the floor. As he neared it, he unleashed his flame, and burst through to the chamber beneath.

Izzy woke up when she felt someone shaking her shoulder.

“Izzy. Wake up.”

Looking up, Izzy smiled. “Rhi.”

“You need to get up. Now.”

“Just let me sleep a little longer.”

“Please, Iz!”

“Ssshhh.”

Izzy rolled to her side and tried to get back to sleep, but someone strong grabbed her shoulder and rolled her to her back.

“Oy! Cousin!”

“Talwyn?”

“Time to wake up, bitch.” Then her cousin slapped her. Hard.

Izzy sat up, the sword that had been aiming for her head, ramming into the ground instead.

Raising a brow, Izzy snarled at the human acolyte over her, “Missed me.” Then she swung her fist, knocking the bastard out. Getting to her feet, she yanked the sword from the ground. The thing with the tentacles, which Izzy was beginning to believe was once something human, had drawn an hysterically screaming Vateria close to its gaping maw, blood, drool, and shit pouring onto the floor around her.