Chapter Sixteen

Chapter Sixteen

It was a beautiful day and Finn’s first time to see the rugged beauty of the Hornstandir Nature Reserve from the air above it. As they flew over the jagged cliff rocks of the landscape from this high vantage point, he realized it was his first time back since the day he’d met Jazdon.

Seized by a longing to walk along the cliffs again, he landed with a thump that cracked the rock beneath him and then had to run a few steps before managing to get his balance and not fall off the cliff. Sloppy, but at least he hadn’t crashed into the rocks face-first like he had the day before when he was practicing his landings near the castle. He was still sporting some scrapes and bruises from that one, despite a couple of shifts to heal.

He went over to look off the edge of the cliffs and gaze down at the churning blue sea beneath him. It was such a beautiful place. Hard to believe it had been so long since he was last here. His whole world had changed since that day. He sensed rather than heard dragons landing behind him and turned to see both Jazdon and Vargla coming toward him, both naked and gorgeous in the weak afternoon sun.

“What are you looking for in the sea? I’d have thought you’d have had enough of this place.” Vargla’s laughing words echoed over the crash of the waves below, as they came up beside him.

“Never!” Finn said, spreading his arms wide as he gazed out at the wild waves crashing into the rocks and smashing themselves into the cliff below. “It’s too beautiful.”

Jazdon gazed over at him, looking indulgent. “Personally, I think it’s a thinly disguised excuse for an extra break from his training.”

Laughing, Finn turned around to say something, but then froze suddenly at what he saw behind them.

“What’s wrong?” Jazdon asked, spinning around to look.

“Foxes. A big one in front.”

“Syrus again,” Vargla growled. “He’s overplayed his hand this time. There’s three of us and the guards are close by.”

“What’s their fucking problem?” Jazdon said, his tone furious as he stepped toward them.

Finn touched Jazdon’s arm, murmuring softly to him. “Oh shit, Jazdon. Look over there.”

Four large, naked men were appearing out of the air and walking toward them across the fields, with more slowly becoming visible behind them. A couple of them were partially shifted, their scales flashing in the sunlight. None of them were Isatolia as far as Finn could tell.

“What the fuck is this?” Vargla shouted. “Some kind of ambush? Are the Parsmitt plotting with Syrus now?”

“Finn, get over here behind me,” Jazdon growled.

“Fuck that,” Finn said, stepping up beside him and Vargla instead. The foxes had slowed, with the big one still in the lead, but they’d stopped about fifty feet back, watching the dragons converging by the side of the cliff. There was a large group of them now—at least thirty or more men.

The dragon shifter that reached them first stopped about ten feet away, close enough that Finn realized he’d never seen any of them before. He was tall, sporting a beard and had bright green eyes.

“Finn Johansen, if you want to keep breathing, you need to come with us. Now. You other two, stay out of this. Our quarrel isn’t with you.”

“Who are you assholes?” Vargla shouted and the second guy, who had a bald head and black eyes pointed a finger at him.

“Fuck off! We said we’re not talking to you.”

Vargla snorted like an enraged bull. “Well, I’m talking to you!”  Vargla launched himself across the distance separating them, diving into two of the men, the bald guy and the one who had come up with him and taking them both to the ground.

Jazdon roared and shifted to his dragon, soaring up beside him to his full and terrifying height in a flash of teeth, claws and blue and green scales. Behind them, the foxes began scrambling backward, no doubt knowing what was coming. Jazdon drew in a breath and spewed a line of fire all across the cliffside, igniting the grass and brush and turning the scene into a blazing inferno. It was terrifying and Finn fell back a few steps in awe.

The foxes scattered, tearing off across the hill, a few of them engulfed in flames, though most of them, including Syrus, managed to escape. One of the men fighting Vargla broke away and surged toward Finn, who partially shifted to meet him. He swung his arm toward him, and Finn’s claws glinted gold in the sun as they sliced through the other shifter’s carotid artery and jugular. Blood sprayed over the scene as the shifter stumbled backward and fell, bleeding out into the dirt and grass. Another man came out of nowhere and jumped on Finn, and this time, Finn’s swipe dug out one of the man’s eyes. He clapped his hand to it, shrieking and convulsing onto the ground. Finn looked up and saw more attackers landing in front of them, shifting quickly as they appeared, with Jazdon surging forward to meet them.

By this time the Isatolia guards were arriving, however, summoned through their links. A savage battle quickly ensued, though it was short-lived. In the end, Finn had killed or wounded at least four men, their bodies strewn around him on the grass. Many other Parsmitt bodies littered the field around them. Jazdon was everywhere, checking on his men and caring for the wounded—barking orders to summon more help to get rid of the bodies.

An attack here in the public Nature Reserve was unheard of—unprecedented. This area was fairly deserted, yes, but humans could and occasionally did come here. Finn could only imagine the fury of King Reykur when he found out.

Jazdon came over to him and gripped his shoulder. “I’m proud of you. You fought well.”

Finn grinned. “You weren’t so bad yourself.”

“You weren’t hurt, were you?”

“No. Some scratches, that’s all.” He gazed at the scene around them. “What are we going to do with all these bodies?”

“Take them back to Greenland to their king,” Jazdon said, his voice grim. “And demand to know if this was a declaration of war. They’ve been playing with the devil for a while now and gambling with their souls. Time for them to decide just how much they’re willing to bet."

****

It was as they were returning to the palace that Finn realized he probably needed to have a talk with Jazdon. The problem was, he was pretty sure it wouldn’t do any good.

Finn hated the Parsmitt as much as the next guy—or dragon. Finn had been attacked and almost killed by them twice now just in the short time he’d been there. He understood they and the Isatolia had ancient grudges against each other, but when was it ever going to end if nobody ever talked about it?

He had caught a few glimpses of Jazdon’s face during the fighting and his eyes had been alight, not with rage but excitement. Talk had been the furthest thing from his mind. Wild, reckless and spoiling for a fight, Jaz had been full of a kind of bloodstained fury that Finn had seen a couple of times now.

This lust he seemed to have for battle worried Finn.

Not only for himself, though now that he’d found Jazdon, he didn’t like the idea of losing him and the other friends he’d made, like Vargla and Merlon. But he also worried for the Dragon clans. Jazdon had told him they isolated themselves in the wild places of the world because they had so many enemies, who’d be only too happy to destroy them for their perceived wealth and their power.

Was it really a good idea to fight amongst themselves too?

If he expressed his concerns to Jaz, however, he’d be putting himself in an unpopular and possibly vulnerable position. It seemed to him that Jazdon, Vargla—hell, even King Reykur were all a little too ready to throw down and go to war at the slightest provocation from the Parsmitt. He remembered Jazdon saying the Greengiles were “non-aggressive.” Was that just another word for cowardly? Would he think Finn was afraid to fight? Finn would always be ready to fight to protect his home or family if he needed to, but he thought diplomacy should at least be tried first.

He remembered the approval he’d seen shining in Jazdon’s eyes when he’d fought beside him against the Parsmitt. He wouldn’t like to see that light go out. Yet if Finn really was royalty and therefore a leader among the Greengiles, then he should think about his people and what was best for them. That should come before anything.

He decided he’d talk with Jazdon as soon as they arrived back at the palace and before they flew across to Greenland to confront the Parsmitt king.

Before it was too late to turn back and a war broke out.