But then it’s time to get going, as the captain hustles us out of the vault and up the way we came. We’re soon through the fortress, out the door and back up top at the flying plaza.
Even as weget there, however, a sharp whistle from one of Jarl Jorg’s lookouts means we’ve got company. Trouble, as I shade my eyes and see a cadre of over a hundred Magnussen dragons on our tail.
“Time to fly.” I give Captain Olander one last nod of thanks before I’m shifting up, stuffing my clothing with my Blood Seal into the fly-bag. Bjorn and Ström do the same, as the Erikssons and Jarl Jorg all shift up too, ready to fight. I have the silver silk fly-bag with the altar’s items and my Blood Seal gripped in my talons; Bjorn, Ström, and I fly hard now towards the cleft between the two towering peaks nearby.
Flying like banshees to get into Eriksson lands before the Magnussens can reach us.
The Erikssons and Jarl Jorg defend us as we fly hard into those peaks. The Magnussens are fast; they’re only half a league behind us as we crest over the lip of the pass and begin streaking down the other side.
But we’ve made it into Eriksson lands; with a trumpeting roar, Ström signals our victory as his Jarl and our defense cordon surge down into the valley with us. Nothing but shimmering green lays before us; the snow here on the coastal side of the mountains melted. It’s glorious, as Ström, Bjorn, and I all whirl, looking back with the Eriksson retinue.
The massive force of Magnussen dragons whirl on the winds, pacing that high ridgeline—unable to touch us.
I can only hope that Captain Olander got out of the fortress in time to save his ass and fly elsewhere. I have no doubt Bjorn’s father would be just as vicious to Bjorn’s friend as he was to his own son; as we turn now, heading down into green Eriksson lands, I catch a feeling of deep sadness from Bjorn.
Because yet again, he’s being chased out of his home, unwelcome to return. I make a promise to myself then; to help Bjorn return to his own lands someday.
A hero, rather than a criminal.
But we’re free, alive, and we’ve made it with everything from the altar secured in my taloned fist; the deepest feeling of ease passes betweenour trio now as we leave Bjorn’s home behind, racing down into the beautiful coastal Eriksson country.
Everything below us gets greener and greener as we fly. I had no idea spring had advanced so much here, in such a short time. It feels like ages since we left the Old Palace, as we wing down over the sprawling city on the cliffs, bordered by the ocean crashing far below.
We’ve flown the day away, and it’s evening now, the sun sinking low over the western horizon as we wing down in tight circles to the topmost landing plaza at the palace. I hear Ström’s deep snort of relief as we all touch down.
And then everyone is shifting, returning to human as grateful laughs consume us.
“Well, younglings! Such excitement as I have not had in a dozen years! I suppose I must thank you for that.” Jarl Jorg Eriksson laughs now as he comes to us, flanked by two of his strongest warriors, as his green eyes twinkle in the setting sunlight.
“Grandfather. I am so sorry—” Ström moves to his Jarl, but the old man only laughs.
“Save it, Ström.” Jarl Jorg chuckles as he lifts a hand, stopping his great-grandson. “You did what you needed to, to follow the trail of this hunt you are on. A most dire thing… but we shall speak of that soon. Come! You three shall dine with me tonight, and the family. Go get dressed, have a quick rest, and clean up. Stash your arcane items in Ström’s rooms; they’re some of the most magically protected in the entire palace, and will do until we can find a better, safer home for them. You three need rest after all the excitement you’ve been through. And before you ask, Ström, yes, I sent a sizable relief crew to Jurggadden to help the emergency there. Maryse was a good friend; what happened to her, her drakes, and their home is despicable. But we shall speak of all that soon, as well. Go get cleaned up. We shall dine family-style tonight! With all the main Eriksson family in attendance, I think.”
As Jarl Jorg claps his great-grandson on the shoulder, he barks ajubilant laugh, then departs. Though Ström’s green eyes shine as his beloved grandfather goes, I also see Ström fret now as he runs a hand through his wind-mussed tawny hair, rucking it up even more, if possible.
“All the main Eriksson family?” I smile, lifting an eyebrow at him. “Does this mean I get to see Mathilde… and finally meet all the rest of your sisters and such?”
“Fuck.” Ström’s grin says it all as he turns to me, his green eyes shining very much like his great-grandfather. “Grandfather would screw me like that.”
“What do you mean? Don’t you want to see your family after just escaping death?” Bjorn asks now, a deep frown on his features as he cocks his head at Ström. I understand what Bjorn’s feeling; his family is all gone except for his horrible father, and mine are, too, except for my royal uncle and cousins.
Ström has a ginormous family, his Eriksson clan blessed with numerous younglings over the years. Though they’ve lost many in battle, they remain a powerful clan not just because of their indomitable, no-fucks spirit, but also because like rabbits, there are just so darn many of them.
“Don’t get me wrong, I love my family.” Ström chuckles now as he regards us, watching his Jarl’s guards shift down and give us farewell nods before heading into the palace. “But grandfather knows my sisters, aunties, and uncles are going to give me an earful that I’ve taken a life-mate—something they’ve been after me to do for years. And it’s not somebody they got to approve of… Erikssons get pissy when they don’t get a chance to meet a potential life-mate before the bonding. They’re going to give me hell because of it.”
As my eyebrows lift and Bjorn snorts, which is practically a chuckle for him, I get it. We’re all going to get hell tonight from Ström’s big family. Because Ström isn’t just Bloodbound to me, but to Bjorn, as well.
All of us life-mates—and Ström’s family didn’t get a say in any of it.
“Come on.” Ström grins as he shakes his head. Opening his hand, heindicates for us to head inside from the landing tower. “Let’s get these things up to my rooms, then we’ll head down to dinner. And face our worst challenge yet: the torture of being grilled by my most loving family. Don’t say I didn’t warn you.”
As he laughs, ushering us inside, even Bjorn can’t help but grin. I’m in the best mood ever, as I sail inside buck-ass nude and beaming. We got out of Magnussen lands, we’ve got what we went there for, inside that altar, and now I get to meet my Second Drake’s family, which I’ve been dying to do.
And we finally get a moment to rest, together.
Which is the best gift of all.
10
