by V. Vaughn
Looking like she’d slapped him but still slowly moving forward, Quinn held up his hands in surrender and said, “I didn’t mean to scare you. I just wanted to see what you were doing. It got a little, well, crowded in the kitchen during my haircut.”
Now that he’d mentioned it she was impressed with what a nice job her mom had done and quickly said, “It looks nice,” before turning back to the reindeer while trying to think of something, anything, to say.
“Thanks,” was all he said as his footsteps sounded behind her right before she saw him lean over the rails of the pen out of the corner of her eyes. When he spoke, it was hard to stay irritated at his intrusion. “So, this is where you hide out from all the commotion?”
“Yeah, the rest of them complain that the calves stink or that they don’t want to feed them, but I like these guys,” she ruffled the fur on the tops of their heads. “I talk. They listen. I give them treats. They think I’m cool. We’ve gotta a good thing goin’ on.”
“I can see that,” Quinn chuckled, making Elsa turn on her stool at the shock of the wonderful sound.
It was the first time he’d done little more than mumble an answer except for when he first woke up and was screaming and it was nothing short of amazing. His deep baritone laugh was warm and inviting. It made her think of sitting in front of a crackling fire on a cold winter’s night with a cup of hot cocoa. Of course, her mind kept going with the scenario and Elsa imagined Quinn’s arm wrapped around her, his deep woodsy scent filling the air, and the wonderful way he whispered in her ear that made goose bumps raise up and down her arms.
Shaking herself from her thoughts, Elsa noticed the knowing look on Quinn’s face and began to ask, “What are you…”
But her words were cut off as one of the huge doors at the end of the barn flew open and Harmony came running in screaming, “Auntie Geneva is coming around the bend! Auntie Geneva is coming around the bend!”
“Oh penguin poop on a popsicle! Not today, Satan, not today!” Elsa squealed, jumping off her stool and telling the reindeer she’d be back later before grabbing Quinn by the shoulder, looking him in the eye, and ordering, “Stay here. I’ll explain later.”
Hoping he agreed but not waiting for an answer, Elsa ran out of the stall, slammed the gate behind her, and ran for the door, kicking off her clogs as she went. Sliding her feet into her boots and throwing on her coat with the skill a fireman answering a call, she heard Quinn ask, “Who is Auntie Geneva and why do I have to stay here?”
Stopping just as she crossed the threshold, Elsa spun around, looked right at the dragon and with her hand on the doorknob answered, “She’s an evil gnome who steals magic and thinks world domination is a board game,” before slamming the door and praying Quinn would stay put.
5
“I guess we’re on our own until Auntie Whoever leaves,” Quinn mused, rubbing the fur on the head of the calf nearest to him. He could tell it was the female from her bright eyes and the sweet way she moved her head to the side to get his fingers in just the right spot. It was obvious Elsa spent a lot of time with these animals from the way they responded to human, or sort of, human contact.
“Aren’t you a cute one?” He smiled then chuckled when the male butted his leg and made a kind of grunting noise until Quinn was also paying him the same attention. “I understand. Can’t let your sister get all the love.”
Enjoying the quiet, the Guardsman simply let his mind wander. He thought about Elsa and the way she made him feel. It was foreign and unfamiliar but also something he knew without a doubt he had been longing for most of his life. He could hear her thoughts, always knew what she was feeling, and had the irresistible urge to wrap her in his arms and never let her go. There was no doubt he had been born to love her.
She added life and sparkle to everything around her. A true bundle of vim and vigor from the tantalizing tip of her ears to the bottom of her tiny feet. His elf may have only been five feet tall but all of it was purely explosive and wholly delightful. Elsa literally effervesced everywhere she went. It was so natural, so free, so intoxicating, that Quinn wanted to be nowhere but by her side.
Hazy and out of focus, his first glimpse of her had been only a flash after she’d unceremoniously dumped his frozen backside out of that bloody box and onto a pile of snow. It had taken all his strength to fight the ice and black magic to get a glimpse of the wonderful creature who had come to his rescue. One glance and, for just a moment, his sluggish heart had beaten stronger. She was beautiful, inside and out; her aura so bright it nearly blinded his newly opened eyes.
Quinn’s fingers rubbed together as he remembered the silkiness of her hair and ached with the need to touch her porcelain skin. Her easy smile and the way her freckles kissed the bridge of her nose and danced across her permanently blushed cheeks made the dragon’s heart soar. Again and again, he’d dreamed of kissing her, wanted to tell her of the amazing future Fate had in store for them, and wanted more than anything to claim her as his own...but he waited. He needed to have all his memories to be able to tell her who he was, not only what he was. The Guardsman needed to assure her of their future together, so he had waited…and was still waiting.
His dragon, who still suffered the effects of what Quinn could only think of as a forced hibernation, stirred at the thought of the little elf. It had been the first signs of waking up the beast had shown aside from healing the Guardsman’s wounds since they’d thawed. Giving a little mental shove to the being he shared his soul with, he teased, “Time to get up, ya bum. How about you help me remember the good old days?”
“Speaking of the good old days,” he mused, “from the look of things, I’ve been asleep quite a while.” Glancing around the barn, taking in all the equipment that was more like something out of a comic book than machines used for raising reindeer, Quinn had to wonder why not one of the elves had mentioned what year it was. At first, he’d thought it was to avoid shocking him but now, after almost a day and a half of good food and lots of sleep, he was more than ready to face the reality of his situation.
Flashes of people and places from his past were happening with more frequency and in much more detail. Sometimes, even a name or a phrase would float through his mind at the same time. There was no doubt he was getting better. Now, all he had to do was figure out how he had ended up in the frozen north. Both man and dragon were absolutely sure they had inhabited a much warmer climate before being locked away in what Elsa kept calling their silver coffin.
Smiling, he reached over the rails surrounding the calves’ pen and grabbed the milking stool since it looked like he was going to be waiting for a while. “So, how do you guys like living in all this snow?” he asked the reindeer, amused by the way they tilted their heads to the side, hanging on his every word.
The little female wrinkled her nose and grunted, to which he snickered, “Yeah, I know, I sound funny.” Quinn rubbed his throat. “Hazards of the job.”
He remembered why it was low and scratchy and sometimes nonexistent. The battle had been bloody. Many of his brethren had been lost. It had taken days for he, Drago, and Kyran to round up the lads after they’d chased the wizards across hill and dale, only to not even get a night’s rest before heading out to the Forest of the Dead to save a small clan of young dragons from hunters and even more wizards.
Jumping to his feet, ecstatic he’d not only remembered their names but also their faces, Quinn looked around for someone to share his good news then quickly remembered he was alone with the twin reindeer. “Well, you guys will have to do.” He sat back down, patted their heads, and continued, “I remembered two of my closest friends. The men I fought beside before I even knew how to truly swing a blade.”
The vision became clearer, like a movie playing in his mind. He could see Kyran and Drago riding ahead, backs straight, shoulders back, battle stances if he’d ever seen them. To his right rode…he searched for the name of the Guardsman with long blond hair and a gleam in his eye. All it took was a w
ink and the name Kayne instantly rang out.
A grumbled, “These bastards are really beginning to get under my skin,” from the opposite side had Quinn’s head swiveling in the memory, as well as real life.
He chuckled out loud, immediately remembering Maddox, one of the oldest among them who’d been a grump from the day he was born…
“Doesn’t everything get under your skin these days, Doxie, old boy?” Kayne teased, only making the mad dragon’s frown deepen.
“Just hunters, wizards, and you, Kayne…always you,” Maddox gave as close to a chuckle as he ever did and shook his head while the demi-god and Quinn barked with laughter. Kayne was the son of Lugh, the Celtic God of the Sun, and the most irreverent of all the Guardsmen. He always had a joke or a wisecrack or was playing a prank on one of his brethren and knew no boundaries, not even with the oldest and grumpiest among them.
Continual banter and good-hearted ribbing kept the Guardsmen’s minds off what they were riding into for almost an hour, but then their commander, Drago, also known as the Assassin, spoke directly into their minds, “That’s enough, lads. The battle is just over that ridge. Orion, Atticus, Angus, and Uther are coming in from the north. This clan has been holding their own for three days against the enemy. Only today were they able to break through the wizards’ web of black magic and get a message to us.”
The Commander paused as the familiar ‘buzz’ of another speaking to him through mindspeak invaded his orders. Riding in silence, the Guardsmen mentally prepared for what was sure to come. Quinn could feel the tension thrumming through his brethren. The adrenalin surging as they prepared to defend not only their kinsmen, but their way of life.
“Orion and Angus have taken their positions on either side of the ridge atop that huge rock formation just outside the Forest of the Dead. Their bows are cocked, arrows ready to fly. Uther and Atticus are on the opposite side of the clan’s lair. From what they can see, it’s not only wizards but the bloody hunters as well. It’s just the kind of fight we like, lads. We’re outnumbered at least seven to one.”
A roar of ‘Hell yeah’ filled their mindspeak as each man and dragon readied for the battle. The Assassin added, “Tie your horses inside the tree line. Kyran and I will take lead. Maddox and Kayne go left, Quinn straight through the forest and up the right side.”
“Aye,” came the Guardsmen’s answers in unison as they rode into the dark cover of the Forest of the Dead, dismounted, and tied up their mounts in silence. With a nod to one another, the dragons took to the ground running at top speed, straight into the heart of the battle.
The stench of burnt flesh and foul magic filled the air. Quinn could barely see through the smoke filling the air and used his enhanced senses to guide him to the enemy. A flash of light burst mere inches from his head. The Guardsman swung his long sword, easily decapitating the wizard before spinning to the left to block a blow from the black-clad hunter.
Clashing blades with the enemy, Quinn listened to the sounds of his brethren doing the same. Their mindspeak was wide open, each giving an account of what they saw and the constantly dwindling numbers of the enemy. Forcing his opponent to block a harsh down swing, the Guardsman stabbed the hunter in the side with a dagger he had ready in his other hand, tearing the bastard open from waist to armpit and sneering as the zealot hit the ground.
The clang of metal on metal had Quinn spinning to the rear, both blades at the ready, only to find his mentor and long-time friend of his father, Samuel, battling a wizard and a hunter simultaneously. Moving to assist, the younger Guardsman couldn’t help but be in awe of the man who had taken him under his wing when Quinn’s own father was cut down in the prime of his life by the same foe the dragons were still fighting to exterminate.
A single nod was the only recognition he received before stepping into the fight, putting his back to Samuel’s and battling not only those two zealots, but six others before breaking apart to continue the fight in opposite directions. As the combat raged on, the Guardsmen continued their brutal assault, equalizing the numbers either by blood or terror. Quinn grinned to himself every time Angus and Orion’s war cry sounded in his mind, for he knew his brethren had shot down an enemy deserter as the coward ran in fear.
Hours of battle later, Quinn was pulling his bloodied blade from a rather large and skillful wizard he’d had quite the time defeating when a blast exploded behind him, immediately followed by Drago’s bellowed, “Samuel!”
Moving in unison, the Guardsmen turned and ran toward their friend and brother, not believing the scene unfolding before their eyes. Both Quinn and his dragon roared as they watched the man who’d been like a father to them both caught between two wizards with a hunter at each of their backs. Balls of evil magic left trails of soldering stench as one after another they beat at the mighty Guardsman, driving him to his knees a mere second before Quinn and Kyran flew at the wizards, beheading the bastards before the dragons’ feet hit the ground.
Quinn, Kyran, and Drago formed a circle around Samuel’s unmoving body as the two hunters who had been guarding the wizards were joined by twenty of their comrades, who had been waiting in the wings. Thankfully, Kayne, Maddox, Uther, and Atticus dispatched the foe they were fighting and immediately entered the fray.
Rage fueled their every movement as they fought in unison, one well-trained unit, laying waste to the enemy in the name of their brother whose life they could feel was hanging in the balance. As the last hunter fell and the Guardsmen looked for another ambush, it was Drago who finally made the call. “They are either dead or gone. Well done, lads.”
But Quinn did not agree with his Commander’s assessment as he turned and dropped to his knees beside Samuel. He could feel the slow, staggered beating of his mentor’s heart as if it were his own. Heard the rattle of his breath as it struggled to keep the great warrior alive.
Laying his hand on Samuel’s chest, he directed the healing magic of his dragon into his mentor but felt it pushed back as the older Guardsman slowly opened his eyes and with a weak smile, whispered, “My boy.”
It was then Quinn could feel the toll the silver the wizards had driven into Samuel’s body with their bloody dark magic had already taken on the man and his beast. Looking at his brethren, he bellowed, “Help him! Get down here and help him!”
Drago laid his hand on Quinn’s shoulder as he knelt beside him. “He’s too far gone, Quinn. The silver has reached his heart.” The Assassin pointed to just above Samuel’s body at the ethereal image of a proud emerald green dragon soaring through the sky. “His dragon is saying his final farewell,” Drago bowed his head, “And so must we all.”
The rest of that day and night and the next, when they said their goodbyes to Samuel and watched until his body was reduced to the ashes from whence it came, flew through Quinn’s mind as if on fast forward. The memories could not come fast enough. Now that the recollections had begun, he was reliving his life in its entirety in a matter of a few hours.
Needing a break, Quinn pushed himself from his memories back into the reality of the moment and glanced at the large round wall clock that hung above the side door. “Three hours? I’ve been sitting here for three hours?” he asked the reindeer, who had apparently grown tired of his inactivity and were huddled together on their thick pallet of blankets in the far corner of the pen.
Bursting at the seams to tell Elsa what he’d remembered, Quinn decided to take his chances and head to the house. He knew she was as anxious for him to get his memory back as he was. Slipping his woolen sock covered feet into Donovan’s Wellies rainboots, that were thankfully only a tad too tight, the Guardsman headed out in the cold darkness of the midafternoon.
The hoot of a snowy owl sounded from the huge birch tree at his back followed by the call of a falcon overhead. It was funny the things that were racing to be remembered, like the time Maddox had gone on what they all called the ‘mad dragon’s walk-about’ and had come back talking about the Peregrine Falcons that lived in the Arcti
c Tundra. The old dragon talked about how beautiful and fierce they were. Doxie even told the tale of a mated pair trying to battle his dragon as they all flew over the mountains. Quinn imagined what it would be like to call forth his dragon, have Elsa climb on his back, and take her for a ride. He somehow knew she’d never had a dragon’s eyes view of her homeland. Walking up to the kitchen door, the Guardsman heard raised voices, immediately recognizing Elsa’s and pausing with his hand on the knob to listen.
“No way, Auntie Geneva. There’s just no way you’re taking Ivey with you. Mom may not be willing to stand up to you without dad here, but I damn sure am.”
“Oh, dearie, it’s only for a few weeks. I simply want our little wallflower to get out and learn a bit of our family history.” He could hear the condescension dripping from the woman’s words. Her attempt at deception was poor at best. “I did, after all, miss out on taking Mona and Harmony and now they are just…well, shall we say...past their prime.”
The nasally pitch and creepy undertone of Auntie Geneva’s voice sounded familiar. It made Quinn’s dragon perk up and give a growl low in his throat. Taking his hand off the door and heading to the large picture window facing the mountain range on the far side of the house, Quinn used his enhanced hearing to keep up as the lively debate continued.
“How does age have anything to do with family history?” Elsa’s asked with a scoff.
“Now, Elsa honey, calm down. Your Auntie Geneva is only suggesting…” Carolyn’s words were cut off as usual, at least from what he’d seen, as Ivey cried, “That I leave my home and go with…with…with her for three whole weeks.” She ended with a sob.
Quinn could feel Elsa’s anger spike and raced around the corner of the house just as she growled, “You’ll not be going anywhere,” and got to the window just in time to see her wrap her arm around her sister and pull Ivey close.
