“Do you know how many battles I’ve been in? How many times a healer has worked on me? Sometimes they leave scars, sometimes they don’t. Besides”—she planted her elbow and propped her chin in her palm—“I used to hate sitting around, listening to older warriors talk about all their scars. Comparing them. Bragging. What’s the purpose? All that matters to me is that I’m still here with all me important bits.”

Éibhear chuckled. “Now you sound like Ghleanna.”

“She taught me much. So did Addolgar.”

“My father’s siblings gave us all battlefield lessons. Although I think Aunt Ghleanna stopped talking to me some time ago.”

“Why?”

“Apparently she had greater hopes for me than the Mì-runach.”

“If the queen thinks the Mì-runach serve a purpose, it’s not for Ghleanna to question. Besides, from what I’ve seen so far, there’s no shame in what you lot do.”

“Planning to start your own Mì-runach among your legions?”

“Of course not. We don’t need a gang of crazed warriors charging into battle with nothing more than their rage and a couple of swords.”

“And why’s that?”

“Because we have Annwyl. She is our Mì-runach, we need no other.”

Laughing out loud, Éibhear rolled to his back, Izzy joining him. And the pair continued to laugh and talk and f**k until the suns went down and they could start their journey again.

Chapter 32

For three nights they traveled and slept during the day. The third night when they couldn’t find a cave, Éibhear used his wings to cover Izzy and that stupid dog.

Although he was grateful for his protective scales, he was even happier that he had his fur cape in his travel bag. He didn’t mind the heat much and it cut down on the sand that was getting into the crevices between his scales. Before they took flight each night, Izzy would have to help him clean out any areas that might affect his flying and he just willed himself to ignore the itching in the other places.

Most Southland dragons who came to the Desert Lands—and there were many who loved it here—didn’t travel this way. Usually, they brought protective tents to set up each day. But the tents their group had originally brought with them were back with their stabled horses near the salt mines. Éibhear had no idea how much he’d wish he still had them.

Still, it could be worse. He had his cape, the heat wasn’t destroying his will to live, and he had Izzy. Her constant chatter during the flights made the long nights bearable. She did spend less time talking to him and more time talking to that ridiculous dog, but at least it seemed to keep the damn thing calm. The dog mostly slept during flights and barked warnings during the day when they were sleeping. Of course most of those warnings were about the big scavenger birds that were all over these lands. But once they realized that the dragon carcass lying under the hot desert suns wasn’t dead, they quickly flew off. It was still nice, though, to know the dog had some purpose other than to amuse Izzy with his constant drooling.

Waking up just as the suns set, Éibhear lifted his wings carefully off a still-sleeping Izzy before he sat up and stretched.

He pulled the map out and looked it over. Finally, they were nearing civilization. They were nearing Sefu.

Yawning, Izzy turned over, her arms stretching wide. Her eyes fluttered open and she smiled up at him. She always smiled up at him when she first awoke, and each time she did, the power of it hit him right in the gut. But just as quickly, she frowned, as if remembering she normally didn’t have a good attitude when she first woke up.

“Hello.”

She grunted at him, and sat up.

“Did you sleep well?”

“Well enough.” She reached into her travel bag and took out a canteen. She drank from it while that idiot dog ran off to relieve itself.

“Izzy, if you don’t mind another long night of flying, I’m thinking we should—”

The dog snarled and Izzy held up her hand, cutting off Éibhear’s words. Even stranger, the dog walked backward toward them, teeth bared, hackles up. This was not the same reaction they’d been getting whenever some hungry bird got too close. This was something else.

Since he knew Izzy understood the dog better than he did, Éibhear looked at her.

“Shift to human,” she said low.

“Turn your face away,” he ordered to protect her fom the flames that would come from his shifting. Once done, he grabbed his travel bag and pulled out a pair of leggings, cotton shirt, and boots.

Éibhear had barely pulled his boots on when Izzy stood, her gaze focused straight ahead. By the time he also got to his feet, he could see the riders. They wore light armor and their horses were leaner than the Southland horses. And they were coming right for them.

Izzy stepped in front of him. “Watch out for Macsen.”

Did she really believe that he’d protect that dog before her? Actually, she probably knew that he wouldn’t, which was why she specifically told him to.

The riders at the front reined their horses in, stopping dead in front of them. The others circled around back. Although where they thought Izzy and Éibhear would escape to, out here, in the middle of nowhere, Éibhear didn’t know.

One of the lead riders barked something at them, but neither Izzy nor Éibhear understood him, so he tried again, this time speaking in the common language of these lands.