Chapter Eight

Chapter Eight

It had been two days since Jaz had come to Finn’s room. He didn’t appear in answer to any of the dozens of messages Finn had sent by the servants, first asking and then demanding that the prince come by to talk to him.

At first, he’d been a bit worried when he hadn’t come. Maybe Jaz had been hurt in one of those crazy, violent training exercises, like the one Finn had witnessed. Or maybe one of those dragon things had attacked him. There had to be some good reason for his continued absence. Not only because of what had passed between them, but because it had been a week since he’d woke up in this fucking room, and he’d only been out of it once, when he’d escaped. They all knew he wanted to get out of this place and figure out a way back home. They owed him some answers. His mind had already cycled through every possible scenario he could think of to explain what he’d seen. Hallucinogenic drugs, actors shooting a movie, secret government experiments—even aliens. None of them made any real sense. And besides all of that, he had a life waiting for him back home. They couldn’t just keep him there against his will.

“Damn it!” he shouted, slamming a fist against the door. Oh yeah, since his brief escape, the assholes had changed the lock on the door, so that now there was a doorknob on the outside only. On his side there was a blank piece of steel. His knife was missing too.

He was giving serious thought to overpowering Anola the next time she came in, despite the fact that she was elderly, had a sweet face—and oh yeah, it would be an asshole move.

Anola bringing him his meals every day was all too damn convenient, though. He knew his captors had assigned her to him on purpose, figuring he’d be too softhearted to hit an old lady.

Okay, they were right, damn it. But he could wait for her and push her away from the door when she opened it—lock her inside while he went to find Prince Jazdon and demand some fucking answers.

Frustrated and angry, he kicked the door a few times, shouting out a few curses, and then jumped back in surprise as the lock clicked and the door slowly opened.

A handsome face peeked around the corner, topped by a shock of red hair. The man’s full mouth spread into a grin. “Is it safe to come in? I heard you raising a ruckus in here.”

“Raising a ruckus?”

“Isn’t that something you Americans say?”

“Not in this century, no,” Finn replied. “Have you come to let me out?”

The red-haired man slipped inside and shut the door behind him. “Hmm, no not really. I would,” he said, looking apologetic, “If I had any say in it. But unfortunately, nobody listens to me.”

“Then that makes two of us.” Finn huffed out a sigh and held out his hand. “Finn Johansen.”

“Oh,” the redhead said, looking down at his hand in surprise. He smiled suddenly and extended his own. “My name is Merlon. Nice to meet you.”

“Merlin, huh? Like the wizard?”

“Yes, only mine is spelled with an ‘o’ instead of an “i” so it’s different from the wizard, you know?” He grinned again and it was so infectious Finn smiled back.  “So, are you a prisoner here too?”

“Oh no. I live here. I used to be one though, so I know how you’re feeling. That’s what I came to talk to you about.”

“Oh yeah? So then will you help me get the hell out of here?”

Merlon’s face crumpled. “No, I can’t. Jaz sent me, but not to break you out. He’d be furious if I tried, and though I tease him a lot, he is the prince. He’s really powerful.”

“Yeah, but the prince of what?” He held up a hand. “I know, I know. You can’t talk about it. So then why are you here?”

“To talk to you and tell you my story. Jaz thought it might help you understand.”

“He sent you to talk to me? Why the fuck didn’t he come himself?” Finn could feel the heat rise in his face and his hands clenched. He didn’t want to take his fury out on this poor guy, but better him than Anola, though the idiot had closed the door behind him and locked himself in with Finn. How the hell was he planning on getting back out again? Anola usually opened the door only long enough to slide a tray inside.

Merlon’s face creased with concern. “I really don’t know why the prince didn’t come, Finn. Look, can I sit down? Then maybe we can talk for a few minutes.”

Finn nodded toward a chair near the windows, but stayed standing himself, crossing his arms over his chest. Merlon gave him another smile and went to sit down.

“Won’t you sit down a minute too and talk to me? I’ll tell you my story about coming here for the first time. I do know how you must be feeling. I was angry too, at first.”

Finn rolled his eyes but flopped down reluctantly on the chair across from Merlon. He knew he was acting like an ass, but he couldn’t seem to help it. He made a go-ahead gesture. “Okay, I’m sitting. Say whatever it is you want to say.”

Merlon sighed. “Well, to start with, I came to the Hornstrandir a long time ago. Back before it was a nature preserve, my father had a farm here.”

Finn snorted. “Not likely. I did my research on the preserve before I came. The last farmers moved out of here around 1950.”

“Yes. Actually, we were here about thirty years before that.”

“In 1920? That’s what you want me to believe?”

“It’s true. I had just turned twenty that year.”

“Yeah, right. So that makes you what? A hundred and fifty or so?”

“No. One hundred twenty-two on my birthday. This coming October.”

Finn gasped and widened his eyes. Now he understood.

They were all crazy here.

Merlon smiled and continued his story. “I was working as a shepherd for my pabba, my father, on his farm here on the Hornstrandir. There are lots of sheep in Iceland. More sheep than people. We grow them for their wool and for food. Anyway, Icelandic sheep like the patchy ground, and they’ve lost the herding instinct because we have no large predators. So, they roam. The foxes will chase them, but the sheep know how to get away. They travel far and wide over the rocks, and it was my job to look after them. I was outside most of the time, of course, and whenever I went north near the sea, I used to see the dragons fly overhead all the time.”

“Wait. What?” Finn said, sitting up straighter. “You saw them? Didn’t you tell anybody?”

“I tried but my father said I was dreaming. I knew I wasn’t, but the dragons never noticed me there among my sheep. I wore sheepskins for warmth, even on my head, so they flew right over and never noticed—sometimes close and low to the ground. But one day, this big one—pure, icy blue and forty feet long from nose to tail—came swooping down right over me and I cried out. He landed then and right before my eyes he turned into a tall, startled looking man with blond hair and the same blue eyes. He had heard me, you see, and came to investigate. I was scared and tried to run from him, but he caught me easily and took me away with him to this castle in the rocks.” He shrugged. “I’ve been here ever since.”

“Wait—’cause this is fucking nuts. You’re trying to tell me you were kidnapped, and you’ve been here with these-these dragon people for a hundred years now.”

“Yes, almost.”

“Bullshit.”

“It’s true, Finn, and you must know it is. I understand you’ve seen the dragons too.”

“I saw … something, yeah. But I’ve had some time to process it and I figure I had to be hallucinating. Maybe because of some drug they gave me.”

“You weren’t, and they didn’t. The dragons are real. And I think you know that.”

Finn jumped to his feet, shaking his head in stubborn disbelief. “I’ve been trying to tell myself there’s no fucking way!”

“Please sit back down, Finn and listen. A few medieval maps were rumored to have the inscription, HC SVNT DRACONEs at the edges of the known world.  That meant literally, ‘Here Be Dragons.’ Actually, I spend a lot of time in the library here, and it’s not precisely true. There was one globe, called the Hunt-Lenox Globe in the fifteen hundreds that did have that inscription, though.  Earlier maps contained a variety of references to mythical and real creatures. People thought it just meant they didn’t know what was there, but what if they did know? What if the so-called mythical creatures were all too real and pushed to these wild, unknown places, because they wanted their privacy? And the mapmakers were trying to warn people to stay away.”

He shook his head at the look on Finn’s face. “I’m not crazy, and I swear I’m telling you the truth. Dragons are real. They exist. I know it for a fact.” He glanced down at the watch on his wrist and winced.

“Damn, I have a class in ten minutes.”

“What kind of class?”

Finn pursed his lips as Merlon stood up and went toward the door. He didn’t like being ignored and he especially didn’t like it when people acted all mysterious and left after saying something cryptic.

“Going somewhere?” he asked, feeling smug. Did the dumbass forget he was locked in?

“I told you, Finn. I have somewhere to be. But I’ll come back soon.”

“Yeah? Good luck getting that door open. It locks automatically. and you closed it behind you when you came in. So unless you have a key…”

Merlon ignored him, walking up to the door and murmuring something under his breath. The lock clicked and the door swung open.

“What the fuck?” Finn jumped to his feet and made a dive for the door, but Merlon slipped through before he could reach him. Finn slammed his fist against the closed door, and from the other side, he heard Merlon’s soft voice.

“I’m a dragon now too, Finn. I was turned a long time ago.”

Shocked, Finn slammed a hand against the door one more time for good measure, and from the hallway, Merlon’s voice drifted back through the door.

“The dragon that found me—his name is Vargla. He’s the one who changed me, Finn. You see, they couldn’t let me leave here once I’d seen them. And that’s why Jaz sent me here to explain the same to you. You can’t leave now either, I’m afraid.”

Finn stood there in shock as he heard Merlon’s parting words drifting back down the hall.

“Not now. Not ever.”