Jewels and Feathers (Race Games 3)

CHAPTERTWENTY-FIVE

EIRIK

As they all turned toward the voice, Eirik took in the man who stood before them. He’d had the audacity to step toward Muni alone, either because no one else dared or he was discounting Eirik and the others. Most likely he was. Eirik was human. Brin and Vidar, too. For all intents and purposes, they shouldn’t have been much a threat at all. What the man with reptilian eyes didn’t understand was that they weren’t simply human anymore, not with Muni’s powers coursing through their veins.

None of the three were useless. Besides their normal strengths, they’d each realized with practice that they excelled in different areas of Muni’s powers. Vidar had better hearing and sight than the other two, able to pinpoint items from a much further distance. Brin had found he was much better at compulsion. After making Eirik do a series of weird dances that ended with everyone doubled over laughing, they’d all accepted that it was Brin’s strength. Eirik had discovered he was okay at those, basic enough to be above ‘human’ but they weren’t his best. What Eirik found he excelled at was manifesting the claws he’d seen Muni do. It had freaked him out at first, the sight of the claws tipping his hands. Now, he could feel the claws under his skin, waiting for the moment of release as they faced a threat.

“Odin’s Spy,” the man growled, changing it up from the insult he’d spoken only a few seconds earlier. “How fitting that you reappear when I most seek silence.”

Muni tilted her head toward the man, her posture relaxed. Eirik knew it was only for show. He’d seen her move. Though this man was clearly something other judging by his eyes and overall demeaner—were those scales that flashed over his skin and disappeared? —he had full faith in his raven.

Eirik didn’t often go for bloodshed as a means of action, but if someone were to hurt Muni, he couldn’t promise he wouldn’t spill all the blood. Rolling his shoulders, he moved closer to Muni. The man didn’t even look his way, as if he weren’t there at all. Out of the corner of his eyes, he could see Vidar tense behind Muni, prepared for battle. They all understood this was the man they would make an example out of.

“I haven’t been Odin’s spy in centuries, dragon. You very well know that,” Muni offered, her voice calm. There were a good amount of people watching the exchange, as if waiting to see what would happen.

Eirik understood it now. The scales, the eyes, the physic; he was most definitely dragon-like, but he shouldn’t be there threatening Munin. Though he was there in front of them, Eirik knew he wasn’t one of the racers. He was simply a party attendee who decided to take advantage of an opportunity. Unfortunately for him, it wasn’t going to be an opportunity at all.

“Once a spy, always a spy,” the dragon snarled. “The secret you hold should have died with you.”

He wasn’t even trying to whisper, Eirik mused. Apparently, though the dragon didn’t want the secret out, he wasn’t clever enough to avoid unwanted attention. At the mention of the secret, more than a few people turned their way, intrigued.

The smile that curled Muni’s lips should have been the green dragon’s first clue that things were going south far faster than he probably hoped. Still, he never once looked their way, as if there weren’t three humans standing around her.

“You mean you don’t want your wife to know about the hoard you keep from her despite dragon law? Or how about the litter of babes you had with the yellow dragon your wife’s family doesn’t know about?”

The dragon tensed at the words leaving Muni’s mouth, her secrets loud enough that some of the creatures around them had to hear. This wasn’t about being quiet. It was about making an example. A few of those closest snickered, though none were louder than Brin’s snort of laughter.

“I bet the she-dragon will gut him if her family doesn’t reach him first,” Brin loudly whispered, so dramatic, to the nearest person. That person was clearly an elf or fae. Since Eirik couldn’t see wings, he wasn’t certain, but the pointed ears had to be one of the two.

“You dare!” the dragon snarled, taking a step toward her.

Without thought, the claws sprouted from Eirik’s hand, curling his fingers into those deadly talons of a raven. It was a strange feeling, but not altogether foreign. They still felt natural somehow.

Muni raised her brow, completely at ease. “You’re here threatening me, Hafa. Perhaps, you should work on your audacity. Walk away now, and I won’t have to harm you.”

But that would mean the dragon was sane. Rather than heed Muni’s warning, he snarled an awful sound, smoke curling from the corner of his lips. Could dragon’s breathe fire? Was that real?

Hafa’s shoulders rolled, his own claws came out, and his face shifted between human and reptile. Before, Eirik might have flinched from it. Now, he understood there were many things he hadn’t known before his second life. He didn’t move, didn’t tense. He simply waited with talons out for a moment to react. He would allow Munin to make the first move.

Despite the dragon moving closer and clearly ready for attack, Muni didn’t move. Her wings didn’t flare out to protect herself. Her own talons remain tucked away. She didn’t even tense.

She didn’t have to.

It wasn’t the raven who moved at the threat. Before the dragon could get too close, Vidar was there, a sword in his hands Eirik had never seen him carry. Where had it come from? It all moved so fast. Brin stood beside Muni, just like him, but Vidar took up the front suddenly. Without any warning, he swung that sword in an arc and the room dropped into silence.

The dragon’s head fell to the ground with a wet clap. Blood sprayed across him, splattering over the others behind him. Not even that made Eirik flinch as Vidar turned and narrowed his eyes on the crowd, a gruesome intimidating sight with the blood splattering his face and his war paint. This was it. They were the threat they’d intended. There were a few gasps as they realized that a human had just killed a dragon, easily.

Someone in the crowd whispered, “barbarians,” where they could hear, and Eirik pinpointed that person, an ethereal woman who immediately shrunk beneath his gaze. His claws were still out, still itching to be used, so he couldn’t imagine the sight they all made together. Brin, likewise, stared down the silent crowd. Even the music had stopped as everyone watched the team.

Vidar held his sword at his side, the edge dripping blood on the cream marble floor. “Anyone else want to threaten the raven?” he asked loudly, a challenge. No one stepped forward. “Good choice,” he growled. Kneeling down to wipe his sword on the dead dragon’s suit that likely cost more than any of them could comprehend, he sheathed it again down his spine. Clever to hide a sheath beneath the suit coat where no one would think to check.

Vidar offered his arm to Muni, and she took it without hesitation. Together, they stepped over the dragon’s body without a backwards glance. Eirik and Brin followed. They walked toward the stage, the four of them, where Theo sat watching the exchange. As they draw closer, he smiled gleefully, clearly approving.

“Well played, Munin,” he purred as they passed. “Now they’ll all fear you.”

“As they should,” Vidar growled.

Eirik watched as Muni turned and sought out the eyes of Phillip James, the necromancer driver, watched as he visibly swallowed at her attention. If he hadn’t known he was marked before, he would certainly know now. The corner of Muni’s lips curled up just the slightest, a mockery, but she didn’t move toward the man she desperately wanted to kill. Their battle would be on the track, not here.

And when it came time, Eirik knew Muni would relish ripping the necromancer’s tongue from his head and his heart from his body.

He couldn’t wait to witness it.