Chapter Seven
Jeremiah Ebon, Ice Melter
“I can’t do this anymore,” Damon said.
He knelt at the edge of a chasm so dark he might as well have been staring at the backs of his eyelids. The entire cave was a dark, massive space in which he could barely see, but even that was nothing compared to the yawning pit before him. No one knew how deep it went because no one who had fallen into it had ever made it out, but many believed it was as deep as Frost Mountain was large—an infinite stretch of cold and darkness.
A gentle hiss rose from the pit. It was almost like it was beckoning to him, urging him to abandon all reason and take the jump. But the fear of falling into the chasm was greater than whatever appeal its depths might hold. Grim Jim had made sure of it.
“Do what?” boomed a voice.
It hadn’t come from inside the pit but somewhere above, reverberating around the cave and rattling his bones.
Damon chose his next words as carefully as he could. “I can’t be one of your Collectors anymore.”
Apparently, he was not careful enough. A tremor shook the entire cave. A second later, something crashed onto the ground behind him. A stalactite, he figured. He remained where he knelt, not daring to inch backward, not wanting to fall forward, ever conscious of the danger above.
This was what Grim Jim did to all who came to him. It was a simple reminder of the danger that awaited anyone who displeased him. Damon remembered something he’d read about when he was a teenager almost two decades ago: the sword of Damocles, a sword hanging over a man’s head by a single hair. That was how he felt now with Grim Jim overhead. Only it wouldn’t be a sword that caused his demise.
This was much, much worse.
“Explain yourself, child,” Grim Jim said. “And pray that you have breath in your lungs by the time you are through.”
Damon swallowed. Perhaps coming to him hadn’t been such a smart decision after all. But it was too late to turn back now.
“I’m grateful for everything you’ve done for me, really,” he said. “You saved my life and took me in, gave me a chance to survive instead of leaving me to die out in the cold. But I can’t be a Collector anymore. All the pillaging, all the violence… I can’t take it anymore. With your permission…” His voice trailed off.
The silence that followed made Damon consider throwing himself into the pit. He wasn’t just speaking to a fellow dragon, nor his boss, either. This was an ancient power that had lived for centuries. Anyone would be wise to fear him, no matter how brave they considered themselves.
“So,” Grim Jim said, his tone sounding even more threatening than usual, “you want to take off after everything I’ve done for you.”
“I’m sorry, I know you’ve—”
“You may leave if that is what you want.”
Damon blinked. “What?”
“You’ve proved yourself to be one of my most skilled Collectors, Damon McLaurent, but if you want to leave, then so be it. Someone else will come along and take your place. You may go.”
He was… free? Relief washed over Damon, but just as suddenly, he was gripped with more trepidation. Grim Jim wouldn’t let him leave that easily. There had to be a catch.
His jaw clenched. “What do you require of me?”
Grim Jim gave a throaty laugh, and more stalactites shattered on the ground around Damon as the cave rumbled again.
“A wise question,” he said. “There is one last treasure I want you to acquire for me.”
Of course. “What... what is it?”
Another moment of uncomfortable silence passed.
“A female shifter arrived on Frost Mountain just yesterday,” he said. “I want you to find her and bring her to me. She is a snow leopard shifter, a rarity on this mountain. I must have her.”
“To add her to your treasures, a living being.” This sort of thing was exactly the reason Damon wanted to leave the Collectors. For years, he’d been uncomfortable doing Grim Jim’s bidding. Only now he had dared to speak his mind and this was Grim Jim’s requirement to let him go. It felt like the Ice Melter was toying with him.
“Do you question my wish?”
“I… I don’t think I can do this.”
“You will do as I ask if you wish to leave,” he said, chuckling again, filling the cave with the sound, “if you wish to live . I should not have to remind you. You already know who I am.”
“Yes, I do,” Damon said with a hint of annoyance in his voice as he muttered, “Jeremiah Ebon, Ice Melter, collector of living treasures.”
The ground beneath him trembled, forcing him to fall forward, but he stopped himself with his arms, gripping the cold ground for all he was worth.
“You will do as I ask,” Grim Jim said in a booming voice. “Or the darkness of that pit will be the last thing you see.”
***
Dragon’s Den was a good place to go if you needed help but a terrible choice if you were on the run. There were suspicious eyes everywhere. The entire town was on edge for some reason. As he walked through the streets, gathering whatever supplies he could, he braced himself for an attack, which could come from anywhere.
Good thing he hadn’t brought Julia along. She would have noticed in a heartbeat and asked him what the problem was.
Guilt flickered in his chest. He didn’t like keeping secrets from Julia, but he could picture the look of revulsion on her face if she ever found out about his affiliation with the Collectors. He couldn’t bear to see the disappointment in those blue eyes. And the last thing he wanted was for her to feel, even for the briefest moment, that she was in danger.
In Caprichor, he wouldn’t have to worry about that. Caprichor was a fresh start, a new life with her .
Time was of the essence. Once Grim Jim realized Damon wasn’t going to do his bidding, he would send others after him. Damon couldn’t afford that.
He continued his march toward the end of the street and was about to round the corner when he realized he was being watched. Damon felt his body grow even more tense. People everywhere were looking at him, of course, but most people looked away after a while, except for the man who’d been trailing him down the street.
Crap , he thought.
He rounded the corner, whirling around just in time to see the man do the same. Before he could attack his stalker, the man raised both hands as though in surrender.
“Hey,” he said. “It’s just me, Damon.”
Damon unclenched his fists. “Jan?”
The man was a little older than him and had hooded eyes and silvery hair that hung down the sides of his face and disappeared into a bushy gray beard. Between that and the snow, he could have passed for a mall Santa. He was built just as sturdily as Damon, only he was a bit shorter.
Jan’s face broke into a smile. “I knew it was you. I heard a few people talking about a traveler coming in last night with a woman. My gut told me it was you, and I was right. You probably shouldn’t stay here long, though. It’s not safe for you.”
“What about you?”
“I’m a wolf shifter. If these people figure out you’re a dragon, there’s no telling how far they’ll go to hurt you. This time of the year, they tend to get edgy. Valentine’s Day is the anniversary of the Cataclysm.”
“What is the Cata…?” Damon shook his head. “What are you doing here?”
Jan Hoover was a fellow Collector and one of the few people Damon considered a friend. Like Damon, he’d come from earth. Jan had been with the Collectors for much longer than he had, and he’d shown Damon the ropes. The man was someone Damon could relate to, someone he could trust. Over the years, they’d gone on missions together and had each other’s backs. Standing before him now, Damon felt a warm sense of security.
But it was gone in a heartbeat as a thought crept into his mind.
“Did Grim Jim send you here?” he asked.
Jan’s expression turned serious. He shook his head. “No, he didn’t. But he’s growing impatient. You need to act quickly. Bring that snow leopard to him before his patience runs out.”
“I will,” Damon replied tersely.
“You really plan to leave the Collectors?”
Damon nodded.
“Wow.” His friend looked like he was about to say something else, but he simply smiled.
“I should keep moving.” Damon said, shouldering his bag, “I need to gather more supplies and be on my way. I’m not staying long, so you don’t have to worry about me.”
Jan frowned. “What about your companion?”
“What?”
“The woman you’re traveling with. Who’s she?”
Grim Jim’s treasure.
“She… she’s someone I met on my way here. I’m doing her a little favor while I search for the snow leopard. Once I give Grim Jim what he wants, I should be free.”
Unless I get to Caprichor with the snow leopard first.