Brannie pulled away from her mother. “That’s not true!”

“Branwen.”

And that was all Ghleanna said before walking away, leaving her daughter standing there, annoyed and frustrated.

* * *

“What was that tone?” Brannie asked Izzy.

“I think that was your mother’s version of ‘duh.’”

Brannie stepped close to Izzy and pointed her finger right in her face. “Listen to me and listen to me good. Aidan and I are not—”

“Blah, blah, blah, blah, blah!” Izzy covered her ears with her hands. “I’m not listening! I’m not listening! I’m not listening!” And she kept chanting that over and over while running away.

Brannie put her hands to her forehead and rubbed.

“You all right?” Aidan asked as he came to stand by her.

“Everyone I know is insane.”

“Are you just figuring that out?”

“Oh, shut up!”

“Fair enough. Here.” He held a bottle in front of her. “Ragnar gave me a bottle of—”

“Ale!” She grabbed the bottle from his hand. “Thank the gods!”

Brannie walked off, but realized Aidan wasn’t behind her.

“Well, come on then!”

“Am I allowed to come with my ale?”

“Oh, shut up and get your ass over here!”

* * *

Aidan found a nice, quiet cove outside of a nearby bay. He’d hoped to find a quiet cave but, of course, all the local mountains had been brought down by the Zealots and the hills were simply too small. Even when he and Brannie were human.

But the cove worked for them both. No one had anything fresh to eat—the armies had been at the front for months and months—but he did find more dried beef and some flat bread for them to eat while they enjoyed the Northlanders’ ale.

“So what’s wrong?” he asked when they were settled and Brannie had enjoyed a few sips—or gulps—of the ale.

“Nothing.”

“Really? Nothing? You’re gritting your teeth.”

“I’m not gritting my teeth.”

He pressed his finger against her jaw.

“All right, fine! I’m gritting my teeth.”

Aidan laughed. “And I ask again, what’s wrong?”

“I hate when everyone acts like things are written in stone. How about leaving things to me? Letting me handle things?”

“Brannie . . . you are in charge of two dragon companies with the nicknames Destruction and On Pain of Death. In what world are you not handling anything?”

“Why do you always have to be so bloody rational?”

“Are you aware of whom I associate with? Do you honestly not understand what I deal with on a daily basis?”

Brannie began to giggle.

“I love my brethren, would die for any one of them, but I have no delusions about their incredibly high level of idiocy. If it wasn’t for me and a few other Mì-runach who like to think things through . . . we’d all be dead.”