The duke stepped back and spread his arms out.

And he began to change. He went from human into something . . . unholy. Unclean.

He grew in size. Bigger than Bercelak. Maybe bigger than Éibhear. His skin turned gray, his handsome features stretched and pulled until Brannie could no longer see the man he was.

And then there were the tentacles.

They spilled and spun out from his body. So many of them.

One side of each tentacle had multiple spikes to grab and tear.

Eyes wide, Bercelak looked at Ghleanna and mouthed, What the fuck?

But Brannie’s mum had no answer for her brother. None of them did. They’d never seen anything like it.

Brannie prayed they’d never see anything like it again.

“Look what my god has given me!” the duke cried out from the fang-covered hole that was once his mouth. “Look at me and weep! For I will destroy all of you!”

One tentacle pointed at Bercelak. “And I will begin with you, Bercelak the Great!”

Brannie’s uncle pulled his broadsword from the sheath strapped to his back, and clasped it in both claws.

“Come for me, Duke. Let’s see what your god has given you.”

A tentacle lashed out, slapping at Bercelak.

Using his sword, he blocked it, but another came from the other side, catching Bercelak on the neck. When it pulled away, it tore out some of his scales, his blood splashing on the ground.

Several more lashed out, but Bercelak cut them down and rolled under a few others.

Brannie was impressed. Her uncle was no longer the young dragon who’d gone up against the Lightning dragons and brought them to heel. But he fought like he had nothing to lose, when they all knew he had everything to lose.

Then something horrifying happened.

The men that the duke had ridden out with began to shake and twitch and they, like he, began to change. All that had happened to the duke happened to them. Now, instead of one tentacle thing, there were hundreds.

For the first time Brannie had ever seen, Bercelak backed away, but only until he stood by his sons.

Fearghus motioned to his kin.

The Cadwaladrs would fight. They would fight and they would kill until their ancestors called them home.

Fearghus then looked out at the other armies. None of them were backing down either. This would all end here. Now.

* * *

Rhiannon and the others pulled and pulled, using all their skills and energy to drag Chramnesind from his world into theirs.

He appeared in the circle, the smell of dirt and shit invading Rhiannon’s precious sacred space and her nostrils.

The eyeless god roared in rage, trying to force his way out of the protective circle.

“You will pay for this!” he swore. “All of you heartless bitches will pay!”

“Will they?”