Keita the Viper walked past the rows of fighting, training dragons and into the heart of Anubail Mountain, the underground fortress of the warrior dragons. It was here that the greatest Dragonwarriors of the Southland were born. Royal or low born, it didn’t matter once you crossed the threshold and dared to enter.
As she passed, all stopped to watch her. She recognized a few of the males, but none had left an indelible mark in her life. None had been unforgettable.
She walked into the main cavern. The dragon she’d come to see stood in the middle of a rune-covered circle made of refined steel and trained hard with a long staff. Ignoring those who stared at her, Keita moved into that training circle and went down on one knee, her head bowed.
The staff swung over her head, missing her by less than an inch. Even as she felt it go by, she didn’t move, she didn’t cringe—she simply waited.
The staff slammed into the floor and one long talon tapped patiently. Still, Keita didn’t move.
“Well, well, well. If it isn’t her mighty ladyship. The Princess Keita herself. And what are you doin’ here, little princess?”
Keita went back on her haunches, her front claws planted firmly on the floor. “I need your help, Elestren.”
“My help?” the low-born female asked. “For what?”
“To teach me to fight. To kill.”
“We all know how to kill, little princess. It’s in our blood.”
“I want to learn to fight like you. To be able to take on any dragon that challenges me, whether I’m in this form or my human one.”
Elestren began laughing. “You?” She laughed harder. “The pretty little princess wants to learn to fight like me?” She stepped closer. “You want scars like mine, too? They don’t go away, you know? Once the cuts go past the scales, they’re permanent. Even on your human form. Sure you want them? You with your male pets and pretty gowns? Sure that’s what you want?”
What she wanted was to never feel as weak and helpless as she had with that barbarian, Ragnar. He’d used her in his games and she’d never forgive that, nor would she ever let it happen again with him or anyone else. She was no mere prize to be won or lost, no bargaining chip to be used against her bitch mother. She was Keita the Viper—and she’d do whatever necessary to make sure she truly deserved that name.
Keita looked the warrior in the eyes. “It’s what I want.”
Elestren regarded her closely and nodded. “I believe it is.” The dark green dragoness walked over to the altar against the far wall. “When we fly into battle, we call on the war goddess Eirianwen. You want to stay here and train with me, whether you fight with our armies or not, you’ll dedicate your life to her, just as I’ve done.”
Keita strode to the altar without hesitation and took the dagger handed to her. Holding her claw over the thick marble, she slid the blade across her palm. Her blood mingled with the thousands of Dragonwarriors who had come before her, including her father.
“I dedicate my life and the lives of those I kill to the mighty Eirianwen,” she intoned solemnly.
Elestren took her dagger back. “I’ll show you where you’ll be sleeping—alone, if you have any sense—and tomorrow we’ll begin.”
Keita turned to the dragoness. “Thank you, cousin.”
“Don’t thank me yet.” Elestren eyed her coldly. “I’m going to enjoy making you bleed, little princess.”
Watching her cousin walk away, Keita asked, “Is this still about when I called you fat ass? Isn’t it time you got over that?”
And when Keita ducked the long staff that flew at her head, she knew she’d at least proven her reflexes were quick.
Chapter 36
Izzy made it to the front gates before she turned around and saw them all standing there, watching her go. There were few who could say they had not one but two queens bidding them farewell before they went off to war. Plus Izzy’s father, grandfather, and uncles were out there too, the dragon necklace they’d had made for her from the steel of their favorite weapons hanging under her padded shirt and against her heart. But it was her mum that caused more tears to well up in Izzy’s throat, knowing it would be months before she again saw the woman who’d risked everything for her.
Izzy gave one last wave and quickly walked through the gates. When she knew they could no longer see her, she took off running, forcing her tears back as she didn’t want anyone in her unit to see she’d been crying.
The troops were gathering in the west fields, and she’d been grateful her family said good-bye to her here rather than in front of everyone else. She’d bet that was her father’s smart idea.
She was nearly to the field, able to see horses, banners, and rallying troops through the trees, when she heard her name called.
She stopped and spun around to find Éibhear standing there.
“I see you said good-bye to everyone.”
She chuckled, wiping the wetness from her face with the sleeve of her shirt. “You know how me and Mum are.”
“I do.”
She smiled at him. “Coming to kiss me good-bye then?”
There went that tic she’d begun to notice. It was in his right cheek and she’d caught sight of it for the first time at the last feast when he abruptly walked over to her and said, “I thought you were behind the bloody—oh, forget it!” And just as abruptly walked away.
“No,” he ground out, the tic worsening. “I’ve come to say good-bye.”