“Notes?”

“Little scrolls with red ribbons on them. They’d walk by someone and it was like they’d bumped into each other. But we noticed—”

“I noticed,” said one of the boys.

“—that they were handing these scrolls off to each other.”

Celyn slowly nodded his head as he did his best to remain calm. Then he took a breath and leaned in to whisper to the boys, “You lot didn’t happen to get your hands on one of those little scrolls . . . did you?”

When the boys suddenly began staring at their booted feet, Celyn knew he’d been right.

“Lads?”

“The man read it and as he was walking he went to put it in his pouch,” Robert rambled, “but it . . . uh . . . it fell out. We didn’t steal it or anything.”

“Of course you didn’t. But I do need to see it. In the name of the queen.”

“In the name of Queen Annwyl herself?” Robert asked, his eyes wide.

Sure. Why not? “Absolutely.”

Robert jabbed another boy in the ribs. “Give it to him.”

The boy handed over the scroll.

The parchment was very high quality. The ribbon hanging from the scroll silk.

Celyn pulled open the curled corners and read it. It bore only a name and a time.

Brannie? Celyn called out. Brannie? Can you hear me? When he didn’t get an answer, Celyn tried his mother, then his father. Still nothing.

Standing, Celyn motioned the boys back.

“You won’t tell me da, will you, Lord Celyn?” Robert asked, tears beginning to fill his eyes.

“I won’t tell your da if you lot don’t tell what you’re about to see.”

“Not a word. We all promise.”

“Then we have a deal.”

Celyn motioned the boys farther back, and when they’d run a good distance away, he shifted to his natural dragon form, unleashed his wings, and lifted into the air. The sound of the young boys cheering the last thing he heard before he shot back toward Garbhán Isle.

Wearing a dress that Princess Keita had given her “because I can see you need something pretty!” Agrippina walked through a field that, in the summer, was filled with wildflowers. There were a few flowers trying to hold on in the cold, but it was mostly just frozen ground and bare stems.

By great Rhydderch Hael’s cock! Agrippina didn’t know why she needed to be here with these useless Southlanders and the Mad Queen of Garbhán Isle. She should be by her brother’s side, helping him. Not banished to this place.

Why didn’t her brother understand? Of course there were rumors about people wanting to kill her. There would always be rumors. With the Quintilian Provinces trapped in a power struggle between her brother and their cousins, she and her brother were obvious targets. But Aggie shouldn’t be forced to hide, like a child, while her brother secured his throne.

“Princess Agrippina!”

Aggie stopped and looked behind her. Marcellus, of her personal guard, was running toward her.

“What is it, Marcellus?” she asked when he was close.

“You’re in danger.”

She shrugged. “I thought that’s why I was here.”

“Assassins are here, my lady. I need to get you someplace safe.” He grabbed her wrist and pulled.

Aggie went with him, but at the same time she called out to her brother to let him know. When she got no answer back—and her brother never blocked her—Aggie immediately stopped, digging her heels into the ground.

Marcellus faced her. “My lady?”

“Where are the others?”

“Attempting to protect you. As I am doing.”

Aggie studied the dragon’s human face. “You’re lying,” she said softly.

“Princess—”

“You’re lying.” This was the same ploy cousin Vateria’s people had used to capture her the first time. But Marcellus wouldn’t know that. He had been just a soldier in the rebel army then.

The grip on her wrist tightened, and Marcellus said, sadly, “I wanted to make it as painless as possible for you.”

Aggie looked up at Marcellus through her lashes. “Yes. I’m sure you did.” With her free hand, she stroked his forearm. “I’m sorry I can’t do the same for you.”

“What do you mean, you can’t find Gwenvael or Briec?” Izzy demanded while she nervously readjusted her travel pack for the fifteenth time and continued to walk down the back road they hoped would allow them to cut in front of Annwyl before she got too far.

“I looked for them,” Éibhear explained, “but I couldn’t find them. But I brought the next best thing.”

“Mì-runach?” Brannie asked, pointing at the three dragons in human form. “You brought Mì-runach with you? We’re just going to fetch Annwyl. Not kill her.”

“Your tone is hurtful, Branwen the Awful.”

“Don’t think for a second I won’t kill you,” she shot back at one of the Mì-runach.

Izzy was in no mood to hear this bickering, so she asked Éibhear, “Can’t you do that thing . . . with your head?”

Éibhear frowned. “That thing with my head?”

“She means talking to them.” Brannie stopped, looking up into the sky. “I think it might snow.”

“Then it snows. Come on.” Izzy looked back at Éibhear. “Yeah. Talk to them in your head. Can’t you do that?”