Dragonslayer (Twilight of the Gods Book 3) (18 page)

The hunt slowed as the trees closed around them. In some places the trail narrowed enough that they were forced to ride single file. Rane and Elin darted through the bare trees overhead, ready to call out a warning if they spotted anything out of place. The hounds wound through woods, guarding their flanks.

Raquel glanced over her shoulder at him. “It’s close. Do you feel it?”

Christian nodded, and her frown deepened. He was only moderately sensitive to the magic, and if he could sense the odd little knot of power ahead then it meant trouble.

“It’s getting stronger if even I can feel it from here,” he said. “Do you still think you can handle it?”

“Yes.” She breathed out an unsteady laugh that wasn’t particularly reassuring. “But then, I thought we could handle it last time too.”

A whisper of sound had them all looking up through the lattice of gray branches. The sky was white and the snow was falling now, coating everything with a light, frozen blanket.

Dragon scales reflected back the white and made the creature difficult to spot. The shimmering movement of its wings was what gave it away. Christian drew his blade, as did the others. They positioned their horses so they’d have room to swing a sword if necessary. Beth and Julia both carried spears, tipped with long, deadly Skimstrok tips. The clan only possessed two of them, though they’d sent an urgent request to the other clans asking for more.

Two. The legends said that when they’d first crossed into Midgard, the spear had been the weapon of choice against the demons, but it was much easier to lose a spearhead than a sword. After hundreds of years, there were hardly any left. And the metals on this planet didn’t pierce demon hide. Only Skimstrok worked, and it was incredibly rare. It had been rare even on their home world.

When the dragon reached their position, its neck curved down and brilliant eyes fixed on them. It breathed a narrow stream of black smoke, ruffling the tips of the highest branches. No flame, there was that. Smoke curled from the wood. The branches shriveled and turned black but didn’t burst into flame. The dragon circled slowly round before flying back toward the fault. The message was clear. It knew they were coming, and it was throwing down a challenge for them to do their best.

“One try,” Aiden said softly. “If we can’t bind it then we find a way to kill it. This ends today.”

Aiden nudged his mount forward, and the hunt pushed through the light underbrush. The blanket of snow muted the sound of their passage. It was eerily silent in the woods now. All of the birds, save Rane and Elin, had disappeared. Both crows had hidden themselves when the dragon approached, but had taken wing again. They flew low, weaving through the tree trunks like the dark shapes of the hounds.

This part of the woods was old. The trunks were larger but there were wider gaps between. During the summer, this space was always dark, shadowed by the spreading canopies of the old oak and silver maple trees. During the winter, it was bright and clear. There weren’t as many saplings to impede the horses, and the hunt picked up speed. By the time they reached the lake, they were moving fast enough that Aiden held up a hand to signal them to slow.

“Where is it?” Aiden demanded of the witches, and Kamis pointed without hesitation toward the eastern bank. The hounds were already edging in that direction, scenting the air. There wasn’t a clear sightline to the bank from where they stood. A stand of pine crept up to the edge of the lake ahead of them. Beyond that, the land sloped down to a rocky shoreline. It wasn’t a likely spot for the dragon to have chosen for a confrontation, but they had no choice but to follow it down.

They’d had to adjust the summons spell, keying it to the fault rather than the witches themselves. It pulled on the ley lines, which was bad for the wards and portal, but Kamis assured them that so long as the spell was of short duration, there would be no permanent ill effects. They’d needed a stronger spell to counteract the dragon’s natural resistance to magic, and they’d had to abandon the original plan to cage the dragon with rune stones. Raquel and Kamis would cast a simple barrier spell, like the one she’d erected near the cave. It should work. They just wouldn’t have very much time. Which meant they’d likely have to kill the dragon. They were simply out of time to attempt anything else.

Passing through the last of the trees, they pulled up at the sight before them. The dragon was there, back foot planted in the lake. The Vanir warrior stood beside it. Her long golden hair had been pulled back from her face in a complicated web of braids. Dark blue sleeves, light, finely made silver armor and a slender Skimstrok blade that glowed with a faint blue light as she pulled it from its sheath. She was alone. She appeared to be alone, anyway…aside from the dragon. The dragon bent its head, and the woman reached out to stroke its brow ridge.

Aiden shot Kamis a dirty look. “Next time you find a Vanir warrior in the woods, do me a favor and just slit her throat.”

Kamis didn’t look his way, though his chin notched up a bit. “I don’t need any more blood on my hands, Odin.”

“That’s the thing, you don’t have blood on your hands in this.” Grace shook her head. “You saved her life, doesn’t she owe you?”

Kamis snorted. “The only mercy a Valkyrie knows is how to deliver a quick death.”

“I don’t think she’s interested in negotiation,” Christian said, eying the woman. Her blade was ready. Her gaze bright and eager. She wanted a fight, and he was more than ready to give it to her. “Let’s go find out what she wants.”

Chapter Twenty-Four

Christian walked at Aiden’s right side as they approached the Vanir warrior. Kamis was on Aiden’s left, and Fen, still in his hound form, paced a half-step ahead. The woman ran a scornful gaze over them all, smirking when they stopped well out of range of both sword and dragon claw.

“You weren’t in Asgard to salvage Skimstrok,” Kamis said, lifting his chin to indicate the dragon. “You were after a different prize altogether.”

“Surtr has already excavated anything worth having. But there are other treasures there, if you know where to look.”

Kamis’s mouth tightened. “A nest. You found a nest of eggs.”

“I found a single egg. The others didn’t believe she was viable, but I felt her stirring. All she needed was a little nudge.” She patted the neck of the dragon. “When my companions realized what I’d accomplished, the fools attempted to steal her from me and we fled here. She was hunting when you found me.”

“But came when you called.”

The woman lifted her chin proudly. “Of course. You, of all people, would understand how such a geis works. You thought you were saving me.”

She offered no thanks for that. She’d gotten what she wanted. Her life. The dragon she’d risked it for. Clearly, she wasn’t here to say thank you.

“Why did you return?” Aiden asked.

“You have something that I want.” Her eyes shifted, focusing on the blade in Aiden’s hand. “Æsir living on this soft, fertile world armed to the teeth. You have no need of such weaponry.”

“There are the jötnar—the ones your people ensorcelled to hunt us to extinction—crossing into this soft, fertile world at every lunar surge. We have need, and, more than that, we have the right of ownership and of inheritance. Skimstrok is native to our world, not yours. Every piece you pry from the corpse of Asgard belongs to us.”

“Asgard
was
yours. You relinquished the right to claim it when your people fled like cowards across Asbrú. The jötnar own Asgard now. Surtr sits in Odin’s place. What right have you to weapons you won’t even use to fight to reclaim your home? You hide in Midgard licking your wounds like dogs. I want the Skimstrok. Give it to me and I’ll allow you to remain here in safety.”

“Our safety isn’t yours to offer.”

Christian was amazed that Aiden’s voice remained as soft as it did. If it were him, he’d have abandoned talk soon after the first words left her mouth. This woman thought they were weak because their ancestors had chosen survival over noble death. Because they chose to remain hidden and isolated on this world among the humans she disdained as little better than animals.

“I won’t leave you defenseless,” she said. “I only ask a tribute of two blades per year.”

“And when we run out?”

She swept her arm toward the portal. “Then you travel into Asgard to find more. It was once your world. Surely you’ll have better luck than we’ve had.”

“Two blades a year, and what is it exactly that we get in exchange for such a treasure?”

Her slow smile said she thought she’d won. Christian waited, still and silent as everyone else. If she could remove the geis from Surtr and his host, release them somehow from their centuries-long enslavement, then it might be worth the price.

“I leave,” she said. “I take my dragon and I go home. You keep your secrecy and your lives and everything goes back to normal.”

Except that they’d lose the weapons that kept them safe. And now that she knew they were here, there was nothing to stop her from locating the other clans and running the same scam on them.

“You can’t be serious,” Aiden growled. “What you propose is blackmail.”

“You get what you want.” She touched the dragon’s neck. “A growing problem peaceably removed. And I get what I want. Fair payment for my trouble.”

“A tribute of Skimstrok is a king’s ransom.”

“There are no kings left. No gods either. Even here on this backwater world, surely you must know that.” She nodded. “That’s my offer. You have two days to think on it.”

She paused, her narrowed eyes cutting first to Kamis and then to Aiden. Her smile sharpened. “As a gesture of my good will, I will tell you what I know about the snake you’ve welcomed into your hall. You cannot know.” She lifted her chin toward Kamis. “Njör is his true name, son of Njörðr. Although your forefathers would have called him traitor, even as we still do today.”

Christian looked at Kamis, waiting for him to reject the accusation. The witch did not so much as bat an eyelash, though his skin had paled noticeably. Njörðr, Vanir hostage of the Æsir gods. A god himself and guarantor of an uneasy peace. A failed peace.

Aiden shifted his feet. “Njörðr’s son was Freyr.”

“One son whom none hate, and this one, hated by all. He was never acknowledged, abandoned by his father and jealous of his brother. The poets say that is why—”

“Enough,” Kamis said.

Aiden shook his head. “That has nothing to do with what’s between us.”

She arched one brow. “You think not? He betrayed both of our peoples. Started a war that led to the destruction of your world. Yet he stands beside you while me you call an enemy. You should think hard on that before you reject my offer of alliance.”

With that, she wrapped an arm around the dragon’s neck and swung onto its back. The creature had grown to the size of a draft horse, and accepted her weight easily. It reared onto its haunches and extended its wings so quickly that they were forced to scramble backwards to get out of its way.

Aiden turned to Kamis, who cut his hand to the side. “Later, Odin. We finish this first.”

The dragon launched itself skyward, its wings coming down in a heavy beat. And then, as if swatted from the sky by an invisible hand, it crashed to the earth with equal force. Raquel had remained behind with the rest of the hunt, but she hadn’t been idle.

“Now,” Kamis shouted.

The hunt surged forward and the world erupted into fire.

Chapter Twenty-Five

The back end of Jacey’s truck fishtailed as she rounded the corner. Gravel pinged the undercarriage, and she turned the wheel sharply to avoid landing in the ditch. She could see a car up ahead, pulled off the dirt road into the nearby field. Lois stood beside it. She lifted her hand in greeting as Jacey pulled up. It had been nearly an hour since Lois had called to let her know that they were going after the dragon. Jacey’d just been leaving the Jensons’ farm, and the hunt was already on its way to the lake even then. An
hour
ago and Christian hadn’t sent so much as a text to let her know what was going on. Lois had been the one to pick up a phone, and Jacey didn’t even know her all that well.

She slammed on the brakes, the truck skidded to a stop and Jacey climbed out, slamming the door behind her. “Thanks for calling me.”

“Of course,” Lois said, waiting as she rounded the hood of the truck. She frowned when she saw the rifle.

Jacey swung it over her shoulder and nodded toward the woods. “Let’s go. You know where they are?”

“I can hear where they are. Whatever is happening down there, the dragon is not going down without a fight. Did you grab a sword from the barn?”

Jacey shook her head and fell into step beside Lois on the trail. “I came as soon as you called.” Breaking every speed limit along the way. “I didn’t want to waste time stopping at Aiden’s. I’ll be fine.”

“I’m sure you will. That’s why I called you. You were the one who brought the problem to our attention in the first place, and I knew you wouldn’t want to miss this.”

Jacey missed a step as a plume of smoke shot straight up into the sky. It looked as if someone had launched a rocket. Smoke. Kamis had said that only mature dragons could breathe fire. It couldn’t possibly have reached that stage already, could it? The image of Christian’s raw, burned face came to her again, and it felt like someone had tied a rope around her chest and tightened it so she couldn’t breathe. Alan had been able to heal Christian last time, but the dragon hadn’t been at full strength then. Shaking free of the fear, she forced herself to move forward until she caught up to Lois again.

The trail wasn’t really much of a trail here, more of a gully, with saplings growing up on either side of the incline. It was narrow, and they could only pass single file. When they reached the bottom, the trail widened again and they turned right, following the edge of the water but staying within the tree line. The lake was completely frozen over, and snow drifted down in fat, lazy flurries. It hadn’t completely covered the ground or the lake yet, but it was working on it.

She glanced over at Lois, grim-faced and silent beside her. Lois appeared to be about fifty or thereabouts, not quite retirement age. Her sandy brown hair was threaded with gray, but it was hardly noticeable unless you looked closely. Her face was only gently lined. The years had been far kinder to her than they had been to Jacey’s mother.

“You’re a witch, right?”

Lois jerked her head in a nod. “I was the clan witch before I retired last year. Raquel took my place. She’s slightly more powerful than I am, but I have far more experience.”

“Why didn’t you go with the rest of them?”

Lois’s lips tightened, deepening the fine lines around her mouth and aging her ten years in an instant. When she turned her head to look at Jacey, her eyes were fierce and sharp. “They didn’t call me either.”

The sound of distant shouting made them both pause for a moment, and then, as if by unspoken agreement, they fell into a jog. Jacey wrapped her hand around the butt of her rifle to keep it from jostling. Lois was unarmed, but then, retired or not, the woman was a witch. Why carry weapons when you were one?

A thunderclap reverberated through the forest, throwing Jacey off balance and tipping her forward so that she had to put her hands on the ground to steady herself. She shoved herself upright and started to run flat out, chasing Lois through a stand of old pine trees and into a field that rolled down to a rocky bank. The bank on this side of the lake was all black rock, now scattered with snow. The hunt was about two hundred feet away.

Aiden and Christian stood side by side on foot. Their horses were nowhere to be seen. Several of the other hunters were still mounted. Two held long spears tipped with silver points that seemed to glow blue just like the swords. The hounds surrounded the dragon.

This time, they’d managed to keep it from escaping. One of its wings was broken. Gray bone poked through the thick membrane of skin. When Jacey was ten, she’d broken her arm like that. She’d fallen from a tree and snapped her ulna. The broken bone had split through her skin and the pain had been excruciating. Even worse was the sight of her own bone outside of her body. The way her arm wouldn’t move right. The memory of it made her knees weak even now.

She started forward slowly, picking her way carefully across the slick rock. She wouldn’t get so close that she’d be a distraction this time. Just close enough to shoot if she needed to. If she could get close enough to actually hit the wound, then she might have a chance of the tranquilizer working this time around.

Lois moved toward Kamis and Raquel, who stood a safe distance away from the fighting. The witches had joined hands, but apparently whatever spell they’d cast to lock the creature in place hadn’t kicked in quite yet. Hopefully, Lois would be able to give them the extra boost they needed.

Jacey walked toward the fight. The hunt stood between the dragon and the lake, keeping it from escaping by cracking through the ice and slipping beneath its icy waters. With a broken wing, there was only so far it could get on land, but the Æsir wouldn’t be able to follow it into the water.

Jacey stopped to take aim. Peering through the scope, she could see the wound clearly. Not only the wing was damaged. There was a long, gaping gash on the dragon’s shoulder. If not for all the thrashing around, it would have been a cake shot even for her. If it would just stay still for half a second…

The Vanir warrior was perched on the dragon’s back, straddling it, legs hooked forward of the wings. As the dragon turned, the small figure flopped forward and then snapped back, completely senseless. Jacey flinched as she was jerked forward again. She suspected the woman was dead, but she couldn’t be entirely certain from this distance.

The people of Ragnarok didn’t seem to be especially concerned about her well-being. They weren’t trying to hurt her, but they were fighting the dragon as if she wasn’t there. And they
were
fighting the injured dragon in earnest now, not trying to capture it.

Cursing under her breath, Jacey lowered the gun and crept in closer. If she stood near the witches, she might be able to get a better angle on the broken wing. She crossed the rocky bank as quickly as she dared.

Before she made it to the witches, one of the women holding a spear managed to bury the tip in the dragon’s left leg. The dragon spun, and the spear jerked free of the hunter’s hand before she could pull it loose. It didn’t matter. The damage was done. The dragon’s leg buckled as soon as the dragon tried to put weight on it. Coupled with its broken wing, the dragon couldn’t seem to catch its balance. It lurched drunkenly around the clearing, at one point nearly trampling Christian.

When she saw Christian go down, Jacey came to a dead stop, her heart trying to claw its way out of her throat. He rolled clear and climbed to his feet, still holding his sword. Even from this distance, she could see the smile on his face. The bastard. Scaring her like that.

Starting off again, she jumped off the ledge onto the more even ground surrounding the lake, and moved toward the witches. They stood on a big flat rock facing the lake, a stand of pine at their backs. They didn’t seem to notice her approach at all. It was spooky how still they were. Their eyes were entirely white and glowing softly, even though it was still daylight. Apparently there was no discreet way to cast a spell. Which, if you thought about it, was actually something of a comfort. The hair on her arms rose as she climbed up to join them on the ledge. Even if she’d wanted to disturb them, the electricity in the air would have warned her off. Walking to the edge of the rock, she pulled her rifle around again and sighted down the barrel.

She was close enough now to pull the trigger, but she hesitated for a moment because it looked like the witches finally had it under control. The woman still lay on the dragon’s back as limp as a rag doll, but the dragon was no longer trying to escape. Its wings were folded against its body. The break in the injured wing jutted forward at an awkward angle. Blood oozed from the wound, tracking black trails down its flank. Occasionally a fat droplet would fall to the ground and sizzle when it hit the trampled snow.

The hunt had withdrawn a bit, though their weapons were still at the ready. And there was a glow surrounding the beast that couldn’t be attributed to what little sunlight made it through the clouds. It was glorious, even battered and bleeding. The most wonderful thing she’d ever seen in her entire life. Fierce and rare and impossible. Just like the people who’d fought it into submission.

Slipping her finger from the trigger, she searched for Christian. He was with Aiden, their heads bowed together. As she watched, Christian stepped back and looked in her direction. She knew he’d spotted her, because for one brief moment, he went absolutely still. Then he said something to Aiden, walked right up to the bound dragon and drove his sword into its neck, all the way to the hilt.

Jacey hadn’t even realized that she’d screamed until she heard the sound echo off the ice-bound lake and the rock surrounding it. Christian pulled his sword free and glanced briefly at the Vanir warrior, but withdrew when Alan and Aiden moved forward to remove her from the saddle.

Jacey jumped down from the ledge and started toward him. Seeing her coming, he moved to intercept her.

“They weren’t able to hold it,” he said when she came within speaking distance. “The spell wasn’t powerful enough to bind a dragon.”

“I saw it. The dragon was down. It was injured. The spell was working just fine. It wasn’t going anywhere.”

A rock turned beneath her foot and she stumbled, her body slamming into his. Christian reached out to steady her.

“The spell wasn’t working. They had to unleash it early when the dragon tried to fly away. It fell to the ground and broke its wing, but they didn’t have enough power left to lock it in stone. I couldn’t leave it like that, bleeding from a dozen wounds, broken and dying.”

She pulled sharply away, and he released her, lowering his hand slowly to his side. His expression was hard but his eyes were fierce, sparkling and bright blue. His cheeks weren’t even flushed with the cold. The breeze tousled his blonde hair, and snow dusted his shoulders. He looked like he belonged here, like he was half made of ice himself. She’d been stupid to think there’d been some kind of special connection between them. Apparently she didn’t understand him at all.

“Lois showed up. She was helping them. Maybe she would have made the difference. Maybe—” She swallowed back the lump rising in her throat. “How could you kill something so beautiful?”

A muscle leapt in Christian’s jaw. He settled his hands on his hips and shifted his feet. The motion drew her attention to his arms and the dark blood spatter dried on his armor and skin.

“It was beautiful.” He nodded. “It was beautiful and rare and deadly. It had to be stopped and we might not have had another chance.”

“You killed it so you could keep this place a secret, not because you thought it would rain fire down on your little town. I should have talked, called the FBI or Homeland Security, or someone who would come down here and help us. A cage would have been better than this. I don’t care what you say.”

“It wouldn’t have survived the cage, not in the state it was in. Anyone you might have called in would have killed it sooner or later and then turned their attention to us. I told you we’d do our best, and we did.”

Something dark and bitter shadowed his expression, and she almost gave in to the urge to touch him. He would have wrapped his strong arms around her shoulders, and that was exactly what she needed. He saw it too. His hand fell from his hip and he held it out to welcome her.

But then she glanced over at the dragon. The thing that had been both a thing of legend and a real living creature only moments ago. An actual dragon, here in the middle of Iowa, glittering and fierce and so special her heart ached to remember it. All the magic was gone from it now. It was just a bloody and broken corpse.

She turned back to Christian and shook her head. “You didn’t even call me to let me know what was going on. You never planned to let me study it, did you?”

His jaw tightened. “We can’t preserve it, not with that video out there. I’m sorry, Jace.”

“So am I.”

He hesitated for a moment and then asked, “The video?”

“I’m taking care of it. I keep my promises.”

“I didn’t make you any promises,” he said softly. “I told you it might come to this.”

“I know.” He’d warned her. She was the one who’d fooled herself into thinking this could end any other way.