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“Why?” The dragon’s dark eyes whirled ominously.
“So I can report back to Ceridwen—and the Morrigan.” Arianrhod stood straighter, but was still feet shorter than the dragon. “Why else?”
“You’ll do no such thing,” the dragon retorted.
Arianrhod reined in a strong desire to roll her eyes. “What would ye suggest?” She was proud she kept sarcasm to a bare minimum. Not that it mattered. Dragons weren’t that tuned into subtleties, and this one was so spun out, it would never notice.
“Since this is your doing, you’ll be going after them.” The dragon crossed its forelegs across its scaled chest.
“Going after whom?” Arianrhod ground her teeth together. “I’m facile at mindreading, but yours is closed to me.” A lie. She hadn’t bothered to look. The dragon was angry enough, it would’ve been be a waste of time.
“Danne and Eletea. Who else?”
“What happened? We need details if we’re to do that,” Angus cut in, his rumbly baritone infused with a compulsion spell.
Arianrhod wondered if the dragon would notice. Apparently not, because it showered them with steam that felt like being trapped in a very wet oven, and spat words with all the finesse of a freight train.
“Danne cast a spell far too strong for him. By the time I—and others—ascertained he had help, it was too late. Eletea and he had vanished.”
Breath whistled from between Arianrhod’s teeth. “Do ye mean to say he shanghaied her?”
“What I said was clear enough,” the dragon pronounced.
Arianrhod peered through the murk with narrowed eyes. It was thinning, and the din of dragon shrieks had died down. “What are ye thinking we can do?” she demanded. “Doona dragons take care of their own?”
“Normally.”
“You have to say more than that,” Angus said. “I’ll grant you this situation is anything but normal, yet I spent enough time with Eletea to sense her inner goodness. She’s an honorable lass, er dragon. Why wouldn’t you and your people go after Danne—and his accomplices, whoever they are?”
“This holds the stink of dragon shifter magic gone bad.” The dragon pointed at them again and skewered Angus with his whirling gaze. “You can dream their location, and we believe you two will have a better chance of success locating them.”
“I can’t always control what information my visions yield,” Angus protested.
“’Tis a fool’s errand,” Arianrhod cut in. “Eletea is probably already dead.”
“If that’s true, you’ll return to tell us.” Another puff of smoky steam.
“Have ye searched this world?” Arianrhod persisted, knowing she should hold her tongue, but unable to keep the words leashed within herself.
“They’re not here, virgin huntress,” the dragon sneered. “We’re not so stupid as to send you on afool’s errand, no matter what you may think.”
Arianrhod curled her hands into fists. There it was again.Virgin.She wanted to pound the arrogant dragon into a pile of cinders, scales, and gemstones, but she’d lose in any brand of combat—magical or otherwise.
The air in the bubble Angus had created around them shimmered oddly. When it cleared, they stood outside the cave in a night drenched by starlight.
Angus made a rude, very male noise somewhere between a grunt and a curse. “It would appear she dismissed us.”
“No shit. How do ye ken the green was female?”
“Because I met all ten dragons who’d convened to create a council before I came to find you.” He placed his hands on her shoulders and turned her to face him. “What do you wish to do, Arianrhod?”
“Why are ye asking me?”
He shrugged. “I figure you’re a hell of a lot closer to Ceridwen than I’ll ever be.”
Something bitter, almost angry, ran beneath his words. She wanted to know more about it, but they had to leave Fire Mountain. And damned soon. Angus was correct about them being dismissed. Not simply sent away, but assigned a task on top of it. She still believed the dragons should take care of their own, but trotting back inside to promulgate her opinions would only piss the dragons off. She didn’t want to end up barred from their world. Try explaining that to Ceridwen and the rest of her Celtic kinfolk.
Never mind the Morrigan.
