Chapter 11 – Clawdia
CHAPTER 11
CLAWDIA
N isha smiled at me from the cozy little sofa in her living room.
After tossing and turning for hours while listening to the sound of Elizabeth’s soft snores from across the room, I eventually fell asleep, and when I arrived in a dreamscape, I was startled to see Baelen’s mother instead of my soul mate.
“You’ve learned much since we last met,” she said in greeting. “I’m sure you have lots of questions.”
“You …” I tried to arrange my thoughts and questions by priority as I sat down opposite. “You’re Baelen’s mother.”
“And you are my daughter-in-law. I’m glad to see you join our family.” She leaned across the coffee table and poured a cup of tea into a small cup in front of me. The gesture was nice, but I didn’t know what the point of having tea in a dream was. As though she could feel my questions, she said, “I always liked the idea of drinking tea. It seems very civilized. I can’t have it anywhere but in my dreams. There are only teapots full of blood in my actual home.”
I picked the tea up and sipped politely. “You gave me the poison to take my life.”
She nodded sadly. “You needed to die to be reborn.”
“You’ve been watching me all this time?” I asked, and my voice cracked. I didn’t like the idea that she saw my past. It wasn’t pretty.
“I’ve monitored the timelines in order to save the titans and make a better future for all the realms. And you are part of that future. Your existence has been full of suffering. All of you have suffered, even Baelen, and I couldn’t save him, or any of you, because without that suffering, you wouldn’t be able to cope with the trials ahead. I can’t say I’m sorry for my action or inaction, but I am sorry for your pain.”
I held her gaze, noting the sorrow in her eyes, and slowly nodded, acknowledging the difficulties she also must have faced in deciding for the realms, not just for the people she loved or even herself.
“Thank you.” I didn’t need to say why. She knew what meant the most to me. “We know we have a big task ahead. Can we count on you to help us?”
She hesitated before she said, “As much as I can.”
Does that mean she can’t help a lot? Is that a seer rule? Or has she seen something she can’t tell me about?
That was the issue with seers. They had to keep so many secrets that it probably drove the people around them crazy with paranoia.
Setting down my tea, I asked, “So why am I here? What do I need to know?”
“Your current problem is Fafnir. Until you deal with him, you cannot continue with your true purpose. And to handle an enemy requires information about him.”
I frowned. “I know Fafnir.”
“No.” Her eyes portrayed her seriousness, and I shivered as my hair stood on end. It was the feeling you get when you know that in the next moment, your world is going to be turned upside down. And it was one I was getting very familiar with. “You need to see his past more clearly.”
Nisha stood with the grace of a swaying willow tree, and I gasped as the world changed around me like a curtain pulled away to reveal a new place.
London. I would recognize the cramped, cobbled streets anywhere. But it differed from how I had known it. The gas lamps were now electric, and modern buildings and construction sites were between places I remembered. The entire image was more like a film set than the streets of my home.
The moon was high in the night sky, and rain poured. I glanced at Nisha to see she also remained bone-dry and followed her gaze to watch a man step into a puddle, which splashed the briefcase he carried, as he hurried through the streets. He was the reason we were here?
Nisha’s small hand gripped my wrist tightly as she pulled me along behind the man. But his gait was wobbly, and the tap of a cane followed his footsteps as he scuttled up the stone steps to a large building with grand columns on either side of the door.
“Who is he, and why are we following him?” I asked Nisha in a whisper. I knew they couldn’t hear or see us—this was a vision of the past, after all—but the mysterious atmosphere made it impossible to speak normally.
“You don’t recognize him?” she asked, her voice low and her dark brow raised.
We followed the man inside, and in the light, I could see him more clearly. His wet hair seemed dark as it dripped onto the marble floors of the entryway, and through the large mirror, I saw the face of the man who’d married and beaten me.
I froze. Just for a moment. It was a reflex, and I couldn’t help it. But in my next breath, I relaxed my tight muscles and noted his differences. The man I knew was young, in his mid-thirties, but this man was old, aged with wrinkles, and walked with a cane.
He can’t hurt me here. He’s a vision. He’s the past.
“Ah, Mr. Jensen.”
Jensen? I frowned. Is he using a different alias?
Another man came out of a nearby door and strode toward Fafnir with a huge welcoming smile on his face. “So glad you could come. Sorry about the weather. Please come in and dry off.” He helped Fafnir take off his coat and hung it up on a rack.
“I’m glad to be here, Mr. Johnson. I think you’ll find what I have to say of interest.” Fafnir’s accent was strange. It sounded like he was really leaning into the Scandinavian accent rather than the British one he’d used when I knew him.
“I’m sure we will. You’ll get the chance to tell us, but let’s leave business until after the meal.”
“But of course.” Fafnir’s smile was cordial and not the slimy smile he gave anyone he thought himself better than. No, this one seemed … almost respectful.
Who are these people?
They walked down the corridor until the sound of music got louder, and louder still when they pushed open large double doors, into a grand ballroom with long windows and a balcony, where a live orchestral band played. Flowers, cutlery, and wine bottles decorated round tables.
I looked around in awe. I certainly hadn’t visited anywhere like this when I was alive. Every man was dressed in their formal black three-piece suits, and the few women in attendance wore beautiful cocktail dresses with their hair in victory rolls. Is this the 50s?
As though Nisha had pressed fast-forward on the vision, the scene blurred until suddenly, an older man walked onto the stage to the sound of applause from seated guests. Behind him was a white screen and a projector.
He waved a hand to quiet the room and leaned into the microphone. “Hello, esteemed guests, friends, and family. My name is John Richards, and I’m honored to start the speeches tonight. If you don’t know me, allow me to tell you my story. I lost my family to a vampire twenty years ago and then spent years looking for others who had knowledge of these creatures so I could take my revenge. Thankfully, God led me to you. The Hunters’ Guild has saved me in many ways, and today is just one way I hope to give back.”
Hunter? These people are hunters? I gasped and took a step back in horror. My eyes widened as I looked around the room anew. I’d completely underestimated this organization. It’s old.
The applause died down, and John continued, “Tonight is about raising money for and choosing our next project. We’ll talk through each one. You will cast a vote, and then we will have an auction to fund the project. This night is essential to our future as a guild. Each year, we are overwhelmed with the response from hunters across the UK and even from overseas. Let’s not dillydally. On with our first presenter. Mr. Darius Jensen.”
Fafnir stood up from his chair and walked up the stairs. He pulled slides out of his briefcase and set up the projector until his scrawl was presented on the screen for all to see. He then pulled on leather gloves and pulled out another item from the case. A stone?
“Thank you for the introduction. I have been so warmly welcomed into this community tonight, and it makes my heart warm. My name is Darius Jensen, and I am from Sweden, so you’ll have to excuse my accent. I come from a very long line of hunters and hope, with this discovery and with the funding for this project, that I can make my ancestors proud.
After the death of my father, I was clearing the house and came across a rune stone, which I will make freely available to you all tonight. I think it’s vitally important for all hunters to see this, regardless of whether you decide to fund the project. On this stone, the author writes about the day his family captured a faei with the gift of sight. It is written in Old Norse, which I specialize in, but I have a translation of the text for you all to read.”
He changed the slide to the translation and continued,
“The faei told them of a dragon called Fafnir, a dragon who would rise from the dead along with the witch who killed him. How, once this dragon rises, he will attack, kill, and drain the magic from the supernatural creatures living amongst us, but only if the hunters do not kill it first.”
Himself. He was telling the hunters about himself and attempting to secure his safety from them in the future. It was … genius. But why was he doing it?
Fafnir continued, “The faei laughed about how the hunters would destroy the only creature who could help them in their quest to cleanse the earth from these evil beings. But the author believed that, armed with this knowledge that the dragon could be spared and, if left alone, it would fulfill the purpose of our guild with minimal help from us.”
The silence in the room was deafening. Everyone, it seemed, needed a moment to wrap their minds around this news. I did too, because I stood gaping in horror up at Fafnir.
These people were hunters, yet they’d unknowingly welcomed a dragon into their midst.
What is he planning? Why does he want the hunters' help? Why is the present the best time to kill all the supernaturals, if that’s what he wants? Why can’t he do it now while he’s still alive?
I rubbed my head, wishing I had a notepad and pen to write all this down.
An angry voice from the second table called out, “How could we allow a dragon to live? We are hunters. No matter the positive actions or the potential for positive actions in this case, the fact remains that we do not allow these creatures to exist.”
Many others made noises of agreement and tapped their tables, but others remained interested and open-minded. As open-minded as one could be when discussing the genocide of supernatural races on Earth.
“If this dragon is to be reborn, should we not be trying to stop this unnatural practice?” a woman asked. “How does that happen? Can we stop it?”
“Hear! Hear!” a gentleman with a mustache cheered. He quickly paled when Fafnir turned his death stare on him.
John Richards stood from his seat at the first table and shouted, with a warble in his voice, “Please, quiet! Let the man continue with his presentation. This is not how we do this. Ask your questions at the end.”
Fafnir’s voice sounded over the microphone again. “I understand this is controversial, so I’ll hurry through the rest of my presentation so we can debate. If I were not confident this is essential to our cause, I would not be here.”
He took a sip of his water and then lifted the stone and continued, “I had the stone tested by scientists in Sweden and also here in London. It’s from the late Viking age, as I thought. The stone is from a quarry in S?dermanland, where there is another carving from this time and coincidently, talks of a hero called Sigurd, who killed a dragon.”
Fafnir changed the slide in the presentation to show the image of the stone as murmurs began in the crowd.
“I have kept this discovery from becoming a museum piece. It is of great historical and cultural value, but our cause comes first. The thought of a faei laughing at us, even one from thousands of years ago, because it believes we are too stupid to work with the advantages we are given, has haunted my dreams. I hope that, with the funding from this benefit, we can develop a plan and weapons to control the dragon. Thank you for listening. If you have questions, I’ll be happy to answer them.”
From the back, a man with a comb-over shouted, “How can we guarantee it will only hunt supernaturals and not humans?”
Fafnir replied calmly, “It isn’t interested in meat. Only magic. Unless there are supernaturals among you, you have nothing to fear.”
Which was hilarious, coming from him. In fact, the whole thing was preposterous.
Comb-over responded quickly, “And how is it you know that? Through another stone? Is there no other evidence to back up this claim? Are we to sit and wait until it kills a human for us to act?”
A man close to us with a chin dimple projected, “So many supernaturals look human. How would we know for certain that it was a human or supernatural before the dragon attacked and before we could attempt to stop it from harming a human?”
“We wouldn’t unless we planted bait.” The man next to him sat back in his chair. “Someone we knew was supernatural.”
“How would we manage that?” a woman from the table next to the men asked in a huff. “If the supernaturals bring the dragon back to life, I’m assuming he will kill them. We would need to have a human at the ceremony to test him, and if he kills the human, then we can’t trust him.”
“How would we get a human to infiltrate the supernaturals?” Chin-dimple rubbed at his chin thoughtfully.
“Perhaps it would be easier to do the opposite, to take a witch child and raise them as a hunter,” his friend replied again.
The story Fafnir was selling obviously intrigued these two, but I hoped the rest could see through this.
John Richards spoke up. “We’ve done projects like that in the past, and they haven’t benefited us.”
Mustache shouted again, standing and waving his wine glass around until red liquid splashed over the rim. “Another plan to work with our enemy? Am I the only one who remembers our duty?”
John Richards replied, “We’ve used supernaturals against each other in other projects. This is much the same. In fact, it is better. A dragon is a beast. It will only do as its nature dictates.”
Chin-dimple spoke to his friend, but the room could still hear, “We’ll need to do extensive research on dragons and the lore behind them. Perhaps question some of our oldest captives on the subject.”
“Do we really want a dragon to take all the joy of hunting from us?” Comb-over asked incredulously. “Do we not relish the chase? The hunt? Is that not what we are?”
A different, old, and wise voice rose among the noise. “We vowed to destroy the unnatural beings that plague our realm by whatever means necessary. With such a small organization, we are limited with our information and also our shared knowledge. Perhaps as the world opens up more with travel and communication, hunters across the world will be able to work together, but we cannot hypothesize on what may be. I believe we would be remiss not to use this information to our advantage.”
Comb-over stood and waved his hands wildly. “Exactly. This project is all ifs and buts. There is no other evidence. It’s a great idea but not feasible when there are other more realistic, more productive projects to fund. Let’s move on from this nonsense.”
Fafnir finally interrupted, his voice crackling over the microphone and making the room fall silent. “This project offers us a chance to use our imaginations, to challenge us in ways we have not yet been challenged, to come up with scenarios to ensure our success. I know it asks a lot, considering we have so little evidence; however, this has captured my mind, and I only wish to share that with my colleagues here in the guild. Look at us all, already talking about the problems, talking about the benefits and the excitement I feel … I haven’t had such a rush since the beginning of my career.”
With a wide smile, he continued, “This project will set the tone for future projects. It will dictate the inventions we need, the knowledge and research required, and push us into a new, more focused group. I think now, more than ever, having survived yet another war, it’s important for us to do something for our future and the future of our children. Many of us may not see the outcomes of our hard work, but I do not believe I need that gratification since the challenge and energy in the guild to continue our mission is what I am most eager for. Hunting is not chasing what is certain. It is chasing all the possibilities and finding joy in the smallest gut instinct being correct. Even if you chose not to fund this project tonight, I hope you’ll allow the dragon to fulfill his dark prophecy untouched. But I hope you pick this project and lead our people into a new era. Thank you.”
The silence wasn’t surprising. However, the number of nods in the crowd made my blood run cold. Fafnir was an excellent speaker, and he knew it. He always knew how to influence people.
Nisha looked at me, her face grim, and in the blink of an eye, we were back in her living room.
I gasped and cried, “Why did you bring us back? We need to know how it ends.”
She shook her head slowly. “You don’t. You already know. His project won. He is working with the hunters.”
He’s working with the hunters. The hunters captured everyone from the island … to feed to Fafnir?
My stomach dropped as I realized what it meant. “Zaide …”
“Is in great danger,” she whispered and grasped my hand. I didn’t realize it was shaking.
“What are we going to do? If the hunters and Fafnir are working together, as well as Elizabeth’s family, then we are in a lot more trouble than we first thought. What did they decide? What was their plan? Do they actually control Fafnir, or is that just what he wants them to think?” I blurted questions like I was vomiting them.
“Mr. Jensen put many plans in place before he suddenly died. They set up a base in his name in Sweden that primarily researched supernaturals, and while they waited and watched for the day of resurrection, they developed weapons. They improved their internal structures and experimented.”
“They let the witches do the ceremony. They were watching?”
She nodded. “And when they knew the dragon lived, they called in hunters from across the globe to inform them of their plans and the project selected all those years ago. They will prove the dragon is only a danger to supernaturals and work in harmony with him.”
I was scared to ask. “How?”
“A supernatural plant.”
They suggested as much at the meeting, but who did they use? “One of Elizabeth’s family? Are they going to use the witches? Is that Fafnir’s revenge on his children?”
“No. In fact, they’ve got one of their own. One that doesn’t know they are supernatural.”
My eyes widened in shock. That poor person. They don’t even know they are going to be sacrificed. “How? Why? Do the others know?”
She shook her head. “None other than the senior leaders.”
“How do you know?” She looked away, and her jaw tightened. I licked my lips and squeezed her hands desperately. “Nisha—Nisha, do you know where they are? Have you seen them?”
She sighed and closed her eyes. “The problem with being a seer is that I know you won’t drop this, even if I warn you of the danger.”
When her eyes opened, I held her gaze. “Whatever the danger, I’ll do it to rescue Zaide from the hunters and Fafnir. Do you know where he is?”
The world disappeared, and suddenly, I could see two men outside of a large building. They were muttering to each other, but their eyes were on the horizon, and their hands were on their weapons. They wore the same bow-and-arrow logo on matching black fatigues. I looked around, my eyes wide and trying to absorb every tiny detail so I could recall it well enough to create a portal. I would not leave Zaide to rot with our enemies. Who knows what they had already done to him?
Nisha sighed. “Concentrate on the corner over there for your portal. As far as I can tell, it is the only place hidden from cameras, but I don’t know what they have to detect magic or how they are protecting their warehouse from supernatural attacks. This is the risk you take. I can’t see anything clearly from here.”
“You really can’t see how it will go?”
I continued watching the guards as she explained, “When the variables are too many, it’s too hard to say exactly what might happen. I could give you a thousand scenarios, but none of them may come to pass if you know of them, and a thousand new ones will appear. Sometimes there are few paths. I cannot tell you what to do. You are a person with your own free will, after all. But I urge you to do the safest thing, because your future is a future for the rest of the realms and the titans. It’s important you all survive.”
We returned to the living room. “Is that it? You saw nothing else? What about the supernatural plant? You can’t show me them?”
“That glimpse is all I can offer without certain and deadly outcomes.”
I felt the blood drain from my face and nodded slowly. “If I don’t go, does Zaide survive?”
“Yes, of course,” Nisha replied quickly.
My lips pressed into a thin line. I caught what was unsaid and asked, “Is there a way he survives without unspeakable trauma?”
“No. His experience changes him forever.” She looked as ill as I felt, and I swallowed thickly.
My plan solidified in my head, and I’m sure my future must have too. I shook my head. “That isn’t acceptable to me. I don’t want him to suffer, so I’ll save him, even if it makes the future uncertain. I can’t do anything less, Nisha. He’s my soul pair.”
She nodded. “Beings from every realm have done dangerous, deadly, and terrible things for the people they loved. That is not special. But every one of them faced consequences, and it is how they deal with that which is the true test. I am one example of many. Please try to stay safe.”
I squeezed her hand and smiled shakily, her warning ringing clear in my ears. “I promise.”
Gasping, I woke up to the room I shared with Elizabeth and looked over to see her lying in the bed next to me. I listened to the rhythmic sound of her breathing before I threw back the covers and tiptoed around the room as I dressed and packed. I felt scared but determined as I left the hotel and created a portal behind the bins, which would take me right into the hunter stronghold.