“Ailean, wait. You can’t just go in there!”
A large green dragon, a herald most likely, stepped in front of the chamber’s entrance. Ailean grabbed him by the snout, yanked him away, and entered. As he’d been trained to do, he quickly took in everything around him so he could act accordingly.
The Elders sat on a dais built out of solid rock. The queen sat on a separate rock protrusion but hers was neither higher nor lower than the Elders. Although she was queen, the Elders still held great powers among the dragons of Dark Plains. Only during a time of war did the queen’s decisions outrank the Elders’, simply because they didn’t have the time to vote and debate when lives were in jeopardy.
On the far side of the chamber he saw one of the purple dragons who’d originally come for Shalin. A good, solid fighter and strong, he’d be a worthy opponent. But when it came to Shalin, Ailean would tear the purple beast apart scale by scale to keep her.
The bastard sat with an audience made up mostly of royals…and Adienna. The smugness on her face made Ailean want to rip off her head himself. But his main concern was Shalin.
She stood alone, in the middle of the chamber in the center of a rune design etched into the cave floor. She held her head high and stared at each Elder without flinching. He felt unbridled pride watching her. She’d give him hatchlings to be proud of.
“Shalin the Gold,” said Elder Cilydd—he had to be nine hundred years old if a day and, last Ailean heard, very nearly blind—“we’ve made our decision on this matter.”
The herald strode up behind Ailean with his brothers right behind him. Ailean reached back and batted the green dragon out of his way and grabbed Bideven’s shoulder and dragged him forward.
He motioned to his brother and Bideven only stared, so Ailean slammed his fist into his shoulder, hard enough to break something.
“All right. All right. Don’t hit me.”
Bideven stepped forward. “Elders. My Queen. I must interrupt these proceedings in the name of Ailean the Blue.”
Ailean slammed his brother with his claw and Bideven hissed at him. “In this chamber all monikers are stripped save for the one given to you at birth. Now would you shut up and let me handle this?”
Forcing a smile, Bideven turned back to face the Elders and the queen.
The queen looked over at the brothers. “I’ve known Ailean the Blue many years, Bideven the Black. Can he not speak for himself?”
Bideven cleared his throat and glanced at Ailean. All Ailean could do was shrug and Arranz agreed with a shrug of his own.
“Actually, my Queen, he cannot. At this time.” Another throat clear, and this time a furtive glance at Shalin, who refused to look at any of them. “His throat was cut while human and it still heals. It will be a few more hours or even days before he’ll be able to speak without pain.”
The queen’s body went rigid and her eyes lashed across the hall to the Lightning dragon.
“Is this down to you, Theodoric?”
“Not I, Queen. Nor my kin—that I’m aware of. I sent them back to the Northlands yesterday.”
“Then who did this to Ailean?” She looked around the chamber and finally settled her clear blue eyes back on Bideven. “Who, Bideven?”
Bideven scratched the back of his neck with his tail and stared down at his claws. “Uh…well, my Queen…uh—”
“I cut his throat,” Shalin suddenly piped in, grabbing everyone’s attention. But it was Ailean she now stared at and, with a viciousness he never heard from her before, she added, “And I’d do it again at the asking.”
The room fell deathly silent and Ailean raised an eyebrow. Something Shalin took as challenge. Gasping, she stormed toward him but Arranz stepped between the pair.
“Now, now, hatchlings,” his brother chided with obvious amusement, “let’s be calm here.”
“This is your fault,” Shalin snarled over Arranz’s shoulder. “Your fault. I wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for you.”
Frustrated that he couldn’t speak, Ailean grabbed Bideven by his hair and dragged him forward.
“Ow!”
He hit the black dragon on the shoulder and gestured at Shalin. Looking between the pair, Bideven shrugged. “What do you want me to say?”
Gritting his teeth, Ailean pointed at Shalin, pointed at himself, made circles in the air with his claw, and slammed his fist into the palm of the other.
Bideven’s eyes grew wide. “Am I supposed to understand any of that?” he demanded.
But Shalin gasped and stepped back. “I’m being unreasonable. How can you say that? I’d told you to leave my father to me, but you wouldn’t listen. Like always!”
Ailean slapped his claw against his chest, pointed at the ground with it, and then slashed both arms across each other, accidentally hitting Bideven in the snout.
“Ow!”
“Ho, ho!” Shalin barked. “Do you actually expect me to believe that? Or to base my whole future on that load of centaur shit?”
Ailean flashed his fangs and smoke curled from his snout.
“Don’t you dare threaten me, Ailean the Slag!”
Resting his fists on his hips, Ailean slammed down his back claw, accidentally crushing Bideven’s claw in the process.
“Ow!”
“No,” Shalin answered with a haughtiness he’d never noticed before. Damn royals. “Absolutely not.”
He brought his tail forward to make his point, accidentally slapping Bideven in the back of the head and shoving his kin forward.
“Owww!”
“That’s enough.” And then the queen was there, gently lifting Bideven’s massive head, examining his wounds. “Much more of this conversation and your brother will be dead before the two suns set.”
She gestured Bideven and Arranz away and stood between the pair. Enormous, and one of the rare white dragons, Queen Ganieda towered over Shalin while meeting Ailean eye to eye. “I have to tell you two that all of this complicates things. When your father came to me, Shalin, this was all very simple. Simple because what happened to you was and is unacceptable. Dragons don’t sell dragons. I don’t care if
