“Don’t pick on Samuel. He performed just like I needed him to.”

“Excellent point.”

Keeley placed her head on his shoulder. She was starting to enjoy this particular move too much. It comforted her as little else did.

Keeley let out a long breath. “I’m going to rebuild the town,” she promised.

“I know.” And she heard no doubt in his words. No placating. “You could have Archibald design it.”

“What?”

“He can manage the building of it. He’s mad, but he is talented.”

“That’s such a good idea. Giving him something to focus on actually helps with his crazy. It quiets his mind.”

“See? All easily fixed.”

Eventually, after a long, comfortable silence, she felt Caid’s shoulder move beneath her and she thought he was trying to get away or get comfortable . . . but then she felt his arm slip around her shoulders and he pulled her closer into his body.

Shockingly happy about this new position, Keeley snuggled closer to him. She rested her head on his chainmail-covered chest and he rested his jaw on the top of her head. And they stayed like that until Keeley fell asleep.

* * *

Caid woke up to find the face of the War Monk close to his.

“What are you doing?” Caid asked.

“You need to get up. We need to get on the road.”

“You couldn’t tell me that from over there?”

“Could have. Didn’t.”

“Anything else?”

“You need to wake up my sister.”

Now he was annoyed. “Wake her up yourself.”

“Okay.” Gemma stretched her arm across Caid and tapped her sister. He hadn’t realized Keeley had been asleep on his chest.

Her head snapped up. “What?” she demanded. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Gemma replied. “We just need to get moving.” She stood, hands on her hips. “Time to face the day, my friends!”

Caid glared up at her. “I hate you and your cheery personality.”

“So does Keran. That reminds me! I think I’ll go sing her awake!”

Keeley pressed her hands against Caid’s chest and levered herself up. She smiled down at him. “Sorry.”

“For what?”

“Trapping you here.”

“I’m never trapped where I don’t want to be.” He sat up, pushed her hair off her shoulder. “Feel better?”

“I do.” Keeley sat on the ground, facing him. “It was Straton the Devourer who came for Beatrix, yes?”

“Yes.”

“And the one who destroyed my town?”

“Yes.”

“Okay.” She stood. “Caid?”

“Mhmm?” he replied, also standing.

“Thank you so much for being kind when I needed it,” she said with great sincerity, her suddenly shy gaze on the ground. “It’s meant a lot to me.”

“Despite the fact it’s all your fault and we’re all going to die?”

Her head snapped up, her gaze wide. They stared at each other until her eyes narrowed and her lips pursed.

“I hate you,” she said, walking back toward camp. “Can’t even give me five seconds of wallowing!”

“We don’t have time for your wallowing, Your Majesty.”

“Stop calling me that!”

He chuckled but the sound faded when the demon wolves appeared all around the tree Caid and Keeley had been sleeping against, trotting after the new queen. They’d been there all night, he was guessing, watching out for Keeley.

And, in no uncertain terms, freaking Caid the unholy hells out!

CHAPTER 21

They stood in front of a large cave and Keeley couldn’t help but gawk at the stone barrier blocking their entry. She wished her uncle Archie was here to see it. They weren’t double doors that could be opened by large men pulling them. They weren’t boulders that went to the roof to prevent entrance. It was simply one stone door with no design or markings to let one know what lay beyond.

Laila, in her centaur form, which she’d stayed in for most of their few days traveling here, moved forward and yelled out, “I am Laila of the Scarred Earth Clan! I demand entry to see your king!”

In silence their small traveling party watched as that stone door rolled up and back! Keeley’s mouth dropped.

“How . . . ?”

“Dwarves are not just good with iron and fire,” Caid replied. “At least half their population are stonemasons instead of blacksmiths.” “I really do wish Uncle Archie was here to see this.”

The gigantic door—taller than hundred-year-old trees that reached the sky—opened completely and they rode inside. Once they were all in, the door rolled back down, slamming shut behind them.

They were briefly in total darkness before a few of the centaurs lit torches and they all began their long march deep into the mountains.

Keeley couldn’t say she felt comfortable. The darkness around them made the ceilings feel closer than they probably were, stretching her nerves. Making her want to see the sky and the trees and grass. Not so much rock and, ahead of them where the torches’ light did not reach, blackness.

Even worse, the loyal wolves had to stay behind, unable to cross some barrier the dwarves had put up. As they had tried to run past her toward the mountain entrance, they’d suddenly disappeared, reappearing a few seconds later one hundred or so feet behind them all.

“See this?” Gemma had asked pointing at some blood-covered totems built around the entrance. “These are to protect this area from pure evil.” Gemma gazed at her. “And your wolves could not get beyond this point. Does that tell you anything?”

Keeley had smiled and replied, “No!” before riding on.

But now, deep in this dark place, she wished her wolves were with her. She’d gotten used to their presence. Caid, however, did walk beside her in his centaur form. Always near but never crowding her. She appreciated that.

Finally, the centaurs stopped and Laila called out again, “I am Laila of the Scarred Earth Clan! I demand entry to see your king!”

When the door opened this time, Keeley couldn’t help but grin. The light was bright, there was plenty of activity inside, and she no longer felt lost in the dark.

“Dismount,” Laila ordered the humans on horses, and the centaurs shifted to their human forms.

“Dwarves find our true selves a hostile challenge,” Caid whispered to her.

“Being yourselves is a hostile challenge?”

“Apparently yes.”

“Huh.” Keeley placed the reins around the pommel of her saddle and started walking, the gray mare following behind her without needing to be led.

“You trust her not to run?” Quinn asked.

“She can do what she wants,” Keeley replied. “She’s not my horse.”

Quinn studied the gray mare and the saddle on her back. “If she’s not your horse, then what is she?”

“A mother looking for justice.”

They were in a city. A city filled with dwarves and the homes and businesses of dwarves. They weren’t the only humans or centaurs inside the city walls but none of the humans there looked like they were from the Hill Lands. They appeared to be more like traveling merchants looking for dwarven iron or steel to sell. Not that Keeley blamed them. Dwarven steel was worth plenty, and weapons or other items already made with dwarven steel cost a lot of gold.

Keeley had only been lucky enough to work with dwarven iron a few times and it had always been a bloody delight. But there were few who could afford such weapons. She’d actually only done such work when royals had come to her with the dwarven iron already purchased, asking her to make them a sword or spear.

She wondered if these people knew another, easier way into the dwarf stronghold. She envied them . . . being able to avoid that road into darkness.

Eventually, they made their way through the city and to the massive front steps that led to the Dwarf King’s castle.

They stood at the bottom of the steps and, yet again, Laila called out, “I am Laila of the Scarred Earth Clan! I demand entry to see your king!”

Keran rubbed her forehead. “How many times are we going to have to hear her yell that?”

“Perhaps, Cousin,” Gemma softly suggested, “you shouldn’t drink so much in the evenings.”

“And maybe you should shut the fuck up, bastard monk!”

“That’s enough,” Keeley growled, finding her growls worked better on Keran and Gemma than her higher-pitched, snappy voice. “Let’s just get through this.”

Her kin nodded and fell silent, allowing Keeley to focus on her sudden onset of panic.

She’d be meeting the Dwarf King. Her. Keeley Smythe. She didn’t know how to think about that. She’d never thought she’d meet a dwarf, much less their king. But here she was. About to be introduced to him as Queen Keeley.

She’d laugh if she wasn’t afraid she’d end up vomiting.

Three loud bangs rang out from inside the castle. Caid swiped his hand over Keeley’s back before he joined his sister and the pair headed up the stairs. The rest fell in behind them, Keeley doing her best not to start panting. She sometimes panted when she was excited and/or terrified.

They made it up the stairs, and there they met three armored and armed dwarf warriors.

The one in the middle rammed the end of his steel spear against the floor.

Laila nodded at him. “Unroch.”

“Laila of the Scarred Earth,” Unroch growled back, his voice lower than Keeley had ever heard. “Good to see you again.” He glanced at Caid but didn’t speak to him. Keeley sensed they had a past.

He turned and headed inside; their travel party followed. The throne room was filled with dwarves. Almost all of them attired either in stunning armor or exquisite chainmail. Keeley wanted to run around and touch each piece of metalwork, getting a closer look so she could see how it was made. Could she buy her own? For her size? A queen needed stunning armor, did she not?