Uther looked at Caswyn. Although no one had said it, he’d gotten the feeling their current assignment wasn’t meant to be announced to anyone not in their small group.

True, Kachka Shestakova was close to the human queen and the mate of the Rebel King, but he wasn’t in the mood to get yelled at by Brannie and Keita because he opened his mouth when he shouldn’t have.

And he was guessing Caswyn felt the same way since he was still living down the “Puddles Incident” as Aidan now called it.

“Just taking care of a few things for the queen,” he said. It wasn’t a lie.

“I see,” the Rider said before she poured him another tankard of ale. He hadn’t realized he’d finished the first one.

But he doubted another could hurt. Who knew if those Eastlanders even had ale? This could be his last chance to indulge for a long while.

“Cheers,” he said, holding up his tankard. He and Caswyn took a sip of theirs but the Riders drank down their own in seconds and slammed the cups back onto the table, calling for more ale.

“You drink like old men,” Kachka taunted Uther and Caswyn. “Come. You can do better than that.”

Well . . . of course they could. They were dragons and, more importantly, Mì-runach. They had drinking contests with their brethren constantly and nearly always won. So a few drinks with these females wouldn’t matter much, would it?

* * *

Vateria, last of the House of Atia Flominia, stood on the ramparts of her home, gazing out over the vast territory surrounding her.

Usually, on a clear day, she could see for miles. But today . . . all she could see were the troops of the Dragon Queen and her human cohorts. And she knew that in time, her cousin and his legions would also be showing up. He, too, would be taking his place for the last assault on the armies of Chramnesind.

“Mother?”

“My son.” She looked back at the boy who’d grown into a man. Now, nearly eighteen summers and Benedetto was still perfect. Her three other boys, however, were still more like their father.

When she held her hand out, Benedetto took it and briefly squeezed.

“It’s all coming together,” he said, now standing beside her, still holding her hand.

“It is.”

“And you think it’s a good plan?”

“Brilliant,” she said plainly. “I never doubt your father’s battle plans. Chramnesind chose him for a reason.”

Her son glanced off, his thumb rubbing against her forefinger.

“What is it?” she asked. “You know there is only honesty between us.”

“I agree this is a good plan, but it depends on everyone acting their part. Doing what we expect of them. What if they don’t?”

“That’s a risk we take.”

“It’s a risk I don’t want you to take.”