Chapter Twelve

Chapter Twelve

He watched as Jazdon’s dragon form faded from his sight.

The shifter had just gone with Vargla to try and heal some of the damage done by the Parsmitt’s teeth and claws.

Finn smirked, remembering Jaz making him promise he wouldn’t go anywhere while he was gone, but seriously, where would he go?

Merlon put a hand on his arm and drew him away from the window. The librarian hadn’t left his side since the earlier attack.

“You should probably change before Prince Jazdon and Vargla get back. You’ll be taken before the king,” Merlon said.

“The king? Why?”

“Well, it’s not every day that a human guest of ours suddenly shifts into a Greengile.”

Finn groaned. “That’s what I did, isn’t it? Turned into a dragon.”

“Yes.”

“And I guess the ones who attacked me were the Parsmitt.”

“Yes. Maridous has called all of the guards who were on duty into her office. No doubt she has plenty of questions for them,” Merlon said, watching his face carefully.

How had the fucking Parsmitt outwitted Jazdon’s guards and all that high-tech equipment and managed to break into the king’s fortress castle? Obviously, they’d used invisibility shields, but the radar should have picked them up, and the Isatolia guards were well trained, according to what Jazdon told him and what he’d observed for himself. It shouldn’t have happened. Were there spies inside the castle who had somehow helped the Parsmitt infiltrate the Isatolia stronghold?

“How did they sneak up on you? I saw all that equipment you have.”

“They have the ability to cloak themselves in human form. You may have seen that in the hallway earlier.”

“Yeah, it looked like a clear film.”

“They probably came by boat. Dropped anchor away from the castle and then climbed the cliffs.”

Jazdon had warned Finn that the Parsmitt might come for him and force him to be some kind of stud for them, the bastards, though it had seemed more to him like they were trying to kill him. Had they known what he was? But how, when he hadn’t even known himself? And how the fuck did they get inside the castle?

And now he had to go before this dragon king he’d heard so much about. “I don’t know if I have anything to wear that’s fit for royalty.”

“I’ll find you something. You’ve grown a little since your dragon decided to make an appearance.”

Finn looked down at the tightness of his clothes and sighed. “How is any of this possible, Merlon?”

“I’m sure the king or Meridous could give you very detailed reasons and explanations. But I think it’s magic.” He laughed at the look on Finn’s face. “Kidding! The dragons, and that includes you now, are just a different species from humans. I think from what I’ve read that dragons have been around since ancient times but went into hiding once the world became interested in hunting them.”

“Oh yeah, the medieval knights.”

“And their kings. All steeped in ignorance. They didn’t call it the Dark Ages for nothing. They had myths about dragon treasure. Not to mention dragon scales and claws and teeth all supposedly having ‘magical’ properties. Dragons were solitary creatures then and it was easy enough for humans to isolate them in their lairs and destroy them. They were hunted almost out of existence until they banded together in clans and retreated to the distant, wild places in the world. Dragons have done that so successfully that the world moved on without them and stopped believing in them. Humans relegated them to myth and legend.”

“But how do you explain me?”

“I have no idea. Hopefully, the king will have some insight into how this might have happened.” Merlon sighed and stood up. “Now, let me go and get those clothes before Jazdon gets back.”

Left alone in the room, Finn tried to think about his new situation. He knew Jazdon would soon be demanding answers to some burning questions—answers Finn simply didn’t have. He had a few of his own questions too. Like first of all, how the hell was he a Greengile? His parents were American citizens, though his mother had come originally from Norway, or so his father said. They had died when he was young, but he remembered them, though his father’s memory was brighter in his mind than that of his mother. She had died in childbirth trying to have her second child, when Finn was maybe three or four. The child had died and been buried with her. His father had lived until Finn was twelve.

His memories of his mother were mostly of her warm, comforting presence, and her long, golden hair. He used to play with it when she read to him. He remembered her as being beautiful, but that could be from the pictures of her that his father kept in his bedroom. He still had those pictures somewhere at home. After a few years, his father had packed most of them away in boxes, along with the other things she owned. The scraps and remnants a person left behind when they died—those had been the only signs that she had ever even been there.

She’d been tall and regal looking in the pictures he’d seen, though she managed to still look frail. Too delicate for this world, his father used to say. His father had worked in construction and had passed away suddenly from an aneurysm. With no extended family on record, Finn spent the rest of his life in a series of foster homes until he was eighteen. That was it—the sum total of what he knew about his past. No one had really ever been interested enough before to ask.

He saw a shadow fly past his window and got up to look out. He saw two dragons swooping through the sky toward the castle and then seeming to disappear into the cliffside. Maybe Jazdon and Vargla. They must have landed in that long tunnel, carved right out of the rock.

Fuck he wanted to fly.

They had kept the king waiting while they shifted to heal their injuries, and it must have felt good to expel what was left of all that adrenaline and energy the fight with the Parsmitt had caused. Finn still had all that churning through his body, making him jittery.

Jaz’s father would probably demand to know if Finn had been the spy who helped them. But for what purpose? Finn wondered if he’d believe he’d had no idea he was a dragon shifter.

It did seem improbable, to say the least.

A noise at the door caused him to glance up to see Jazdon standing in the doorway, looking at him intently, like he was trying to figure him out.

“Are you all right?” Jazdon asked.

Finn smiled. “The question is, are you? Did the shifting heal you?”

“Mostly, yes. A few more times will help even more, but I’m fine for now. It’s time to meet the king.”

“Yes, Merlon said he’d want to talk to me.”

Merlon popped in behind Jazdon, a little out of breath. “I brought you a shirt, but it was all I could find in my closet that might fit. You’re bigger than me.”

“I’ll take it,” Finn said, and stood up to pull his t-shirt over his head. He tossed his hair out of his eyes and saw Jazdon and Merlon both staring at him. Merlon’s mouth had fallen open a little.

“What is it? Why are you staring at me? Is there something on my face?”

“Uh, no, nothing’s wrong,” Merlon said quickly, his face turning pink. “You’re just kind of … a lot now, that’s all.”

“What do you mean?”

Jazdon shook his head, a little smile playing at the corners of his mouth. “Pay no attention. It’s nothing. If you’re ready, I’ll take you to see the king.”

Finn nodded and followed Jazdon out of the room and down the hallway. He was amazed every time he walked down these halls at what a maze it was. Yet the Parsmitt had not only managed to break in but had come straight to his hallway and seemed to be looking for his room.

After the fifth or sixth convoluted turn, he gave up trying to track the way they’d come and just followed Jaz.

“You looked a little worried when you came to my room—did you think I’d be gone?”

“No. You said you wouldn’t leave, so I believed you. I was just a bit—”

“What?”

“Anxious, I guess. Not that I thought you’d lie to me. Not much, anyway,” Jaz said.

“Thanks a lot. And what would you have done if I’d been gone?” Finn asked.

“I’d have hunted you down personally and not rested until I found you,” he said in a threatening tone, glancing over at Finn.

“What would you have done to me when you found me?”

“You don’t want to know.”

“Actually, I do. Would you have killed me? Beat me up?”

“No. Maybe chained you to my bed. For a few months.”

“Oh yeah? Why is that Jaz?”

“I’m still processing why exactly. I blame my dragon,” he said with an enigmatic smile, holding open a door to usher Finn in to see the king.

Finn’s first impression was that it looked like an ordinary, though large room, but then he took a second look. This time he noticed the teakwood flooring covered in rich Turkish rugs and the furnishings that all seemed to be of rich mahogany wood, covered in plush fabrics—all except for the throne, that is, which sat on a dais of marble and appeared to be gold plated.

Standing beside it were two handsome men. One of them, who looked a lot like Jazdon, turned to look at them as they came in. Finn decided he must be King Reykur. He looked imperious and bad tempered, just like his son. Maybe it was a family trait? The other man with the king was both handsome and regal in his bearing, but unfamiliar to Finn.

“Jazdon, I’m glad you’re back. I asked King Daltor of the Greengiles to join us to help figure out what happened if possible. He’s just arrived.”

“Prince Jazdon,” King Daltor said, holding out a hand to Jaz and ignoring Finn. His palm was turned downward. “So good to see you as always.” Jazdon went forward and took it, though a bit grudgingly, Finn thought. Jaz bowed over hand, but didn’t kiss it, as maybe the king might have expected.

“King Reykur, King Daltor, this is Finn Johansen, from America. Finn, may I present His Majesty, King Reykur of the Isatolia, and His Majesty King Daltor, of the Greengiles.”

“Nice to meet you.” Finn stuck out his hand and both men glanced down at it before Jaz gave him an elbow in the ribs. He bowed from the waist to demonstrate, and Finn quickly followed suit.

“I understand you’ve been having some misadventures,” King Reykur said, frowning at him. “Jazdon tells me the Parsmitt came into our castle and assaulted you. Tried to kidnap you.”

“They attacked me. I have no idea why.”

King Daltor leaned in. “And did you know these men?”

“No, of course not. They chased me down the hall and tried to choke me.”

“And that’s when you suddenly shifted into a Greengile dragon? For the first time, I believe you said?” Reykur asked, looking skeptical.

“Well, yes, of course. I’m human.”

“Hmm,” Reykur said. “It seems not.”

“Who are your parents?” Daltor asked.

“My parents? Nobody in particular. But not fucking dragons if that’s what you’re asking.”

Finn got another sharp elbow in the ribs. “Ow! What was that for?” he complained, and Jazdon grabbed his arm and yanked him closer to whisper fiercely in his ear.

“What’s the matter with you?” Jazdon whisper-growled in his ear. “You’re talking to the Isatolia king and the Greengile king. Show some respect.”

“Okay, I’m sorry,” Finn whispered back just at fiercely. To King Daltor, he said, “Excuse me, sir. I didn’t mean to curse.”

He got only a cold look from Daltor in reply.

Reykur, on the other hand, seemed to be fighting a smile. “Can you tell us a little about your background, Finn? Who was your father?”

“His name was Jarl Johansen, and he and my mother were born in Norway, but his parents moved to the States when he was a baby. He returned to Norway years later. He met my mother there and they returned to the States. They both passed away when I was a kid, so I don’t know much more.”

“I see. Do you know what city in Norway?”

“No, and if he said I don’t remember. They left to go back to America when my mother was pregnant with me.”

“And who was your mother?”

“Her name was Freya.”

“I see.”

“Does the name mean anything to you?” Reykur asked.

“It’s a name I haven’t heard in years. I had a cousin named Freya, who left us over twenty-five years ago. She disappeared and was never found, though I believe her family extensively searched for her for a long time.”

Jaz leaned forward impatiently. “Why did she leave?”

“It was a family matter,” Daltor said, turning a cold look on Jaz.

Jazdon returned it. “I understand that, but this might take precedence, don’t you think?”

When Daltor bristled, Reykur put a hand on his arm. “What my son means is that while we don’t wish to pry, it would be helpful to all of us if we could understand how this happened. Jazdon said that Finn shows royal traits in his shifted form. His eyes and scales have a golden cast and he’s extremely powerful. He must have royal blood.”

Daltor hesitated and then huffed his reply. “My cousin took up with some man. His name was not Johansen though.”

“A human?

“No, I don’t think so. Another dragon, I believe. An Isatolia, who took advantage of her. Seduced her.”

“What? What was his name?”

“I don’t recall. He and Freya ran away together. It’s not something we speak of to any outsiders, and it was a long time ago. She was a royal princess and the daughter of our king.”

“I see,” Reykur said. “Why did we never hear of this, if the man was Isatolia?”

“How should I know? It all happened long ago.”

“Are you sure the man she ran away with was Isatolia?”

“No. As I told you, I hardly remember it. Her father disinherited her. He told everyone to consider her dead to her people.”

“Then why were they being searched for? Is it possible this man you say she took up with changed his name to avoid detection? If this is true, I’m sure my father, who would have been king at the time, would have been after them.”

Daltor didn’t quite sneer at the king, but Jazdon thought it was close. “Again, how would I possibly know?’ At that insolent reply, a low growl started up in Jazdon’s throat, and Daltor shot him a look of alarm.

Reykur seemed unfazed. “Can you give us any insights as to how this could have happened?”

“I believe a human architect named Johansen was brought in by my cousin who was the king at the time to solve a problem encountered in the building of a wing of their castle. Somehow this man helped them to escape. When he left, they went with him.” He glanced over at Finn. “They all stole away in the middle of the night. Like thieves.”