Hunt of the Dwarf King

by Charley Case

  The troopers pulled him towards the door, Jeffery going without a fight. Finn watched them go, noting Jeffery never took his eyes off of Mila. He was pretty sure there were tears in the troll’s eyes by the time he was out the door.

  “He’s gone.” Preston rumbled, turning back to Finn and putting his phone in his suit pocket.

  “Kal? Yeah, I figured he would be in the wind by now. That attack on us in your office was a desperate move that brought too much heat down on him. He had to know it was only a matter of time before you found him out.” Finn stepped closer to Mila, watching Danica finish up with Penny by wrapping her injured wing tight against her body with white gauze, leaving the other free. “What’s your plan?”

  Preston sighed, scratching at his square chin. “I made a mistake with the Dark Star. I assumed she was just another fanatic with visions of grandeur, but it turns out that she’s got a well-funded organization with visions of grandeur, which is a much more formidable position. The fact that she had someone as close to me as Kal was speaks of a network with deep resources.”

  “Worse than that.” Finn turned to meet the Minotaur’s eyes, “Her message isn’t wrong. In the last few days, we’ve met a fair number of groups that need what she’s selling. They need a place to exist that isn’t shrouded from the world. Places like the Menagerie and the Markets are great and all, but they’re tiny islands in the vast sea of humanity. Take the advice of a dwarf whose father basically rules the universe; people need a place to belong to and call their own. The common man will put up with a lot of shit if he can go to a home and say, ‘this is mine.’ You’ve done pretty well in taking care of your people here in Denver, but there’s a big world out there, and most of those people don't have a Preston Meriwether looking out for them.”

  Preston narrowed his eyes as if seeing Finn for the first time. “What would you suggest we do, Dwarf King?”

  Finn waved off the comment. “How should I know? I’m just an exiled traveler trying to find a place to call home myself.” He looked down at Mila. Penny stood beside her, gently stroking her hair and cooing a soft dragon song to her. “I do know one thing for certain.” He looked at Preston, who was giving him his full attention. “I’m no king. Hell, if you ask my father, I’m barely a dwarf. I’ll leave the ruling to those better suited to it.”

  “You’re an Earthling now. The past is out there.” He waved a hand at the ceiling and the sky beyond. “But the future is here on this broken-down ship we call home. If there is one thing I know for certain, it’s that the future is unknowable. Don't sell yourself short, Finn. People might just need what you’ve thrown away. I’ve found that the best leaders are the ones who don't want it but understand the costs.”

  Danica put a hand on his shoulder, turned him her way, and held out a roll of bandages. “Give me your arms. I’m going to wrap you up until we get home and I can get a healing potion in you. I need yours for some of the others.” He held out his arms, and she began wrapping them with expert hands. She finished quickly, took his two healing potions, and nodded to him before heading off to help others.

  Finn frowned. He didn't like to think about what it meant to be Finnegan Dragonbender, the son of the king, and what that position meant. He just wanted to be Finn. He wanted to help his friend find her hoard. He wanted to have people that understood the call of adventure and could revel in it with him. He wanted a tribe to call his own.

  He wanted Mila to...he wasn't sure what he wanted from her. That wasn't true, he realized; he knew exactly what he wanted from her. He also knew she deserved better than an exiled berserker dwarf. She deserved a prince.

  As if thinking of her had triggered something in her brain, Mila's eyes fluttered open.

  Finn fell to his knees beside her, helping her to sit up with a hand on her back. “How are you feeling? You gave us quite the scare.” Finn spoke softly, his voice sounding more worried than he had realized he had been.

  She groaned and gripped the back of her neck, massaging the base of her skull. “I feel like a demolition derby had a full tournament in my head.” She smiled and looked up into his face. “It’s a good thing you and Penny owe me a two-hour massage.”

  Finn barked a laugh, his fear escaping with it. “I thought it was half an hour.”

  “Not after this shit.” She held out her arms to him like a child. “Pick me up.”

  He leaned in, and she wrapped her arms around his neck. He cradled her to his chest. “Let’s get you home.”

  She nodded into his chest. “That sounds good.”

  Chapter Thirty

  Mila slept for the next three days, only waking long enough to eat a lazy meal and go to the bathroom before she returned to the couch and inevitably fell back asleep, laying her head on either Finn’s or Danica's lap. Even when the loud banging and power saws of construction started on the condo next door, she slept.

  Finn would watch as Danica took Mila's vitals then performed a check on her magical aura, but like each time before, there was nothing to see.

  Penny was recovering quickly. Her natural healing ability grew back the missing skin of her wing in just over a day and a half, even though it wouldn't be thick enough to support her weight for a few more days. She had removed the bandages, complaining that she was far too itchy to leave them on. Danica had finally relented, allowing her to remove the gauze only to end up staring with wide eyes at the healed-over wound, never having seen a dragon’s rapid healing abilities before then.

  Finn, for his part, made food when it was time, or went over plans with the construction team next door to make sure they had everything they needed to get the project done quickly, but mostly he sat on the couch watching John Wayne movies while acting as a pillow for Mila. He had to give Danica credit for acting as a backup pillow and/or footrest while sitting through seventeen westerns, and one mistake of a bad movie about Genghis Khan.

  So, on the third night, when Mila awoke, rubbing the sleep from her eyes, and declared that she really wanted to go out for a drink and to sing some karaoke, Finn and Danica jumped at the opportunity. Even Penny was excited to get out of the house, and she had been the least bored of them all, using her time to surf the web and buy who-knew-what with the company’s new credit card.

  “Wait, he just gave you the ring?” Mila asked, taking a sip of her G&T while snatching a honey-roasted peanut from the bowl Penny was lounging in.

  They had taken a table near the small stage at the front of the Refinery. Finn, Mila, and Penny were sipping their drinks while Danica serenaded the small weekday crowd with a soulful rendition of Black Velvet.

  “He said it was a bonus for keeping all but one of the hounds alive, and for going in without backup from his strike team.” Finn snatched one of the peanuts as well, but Penny took a swipe at him, although she had pretended not to notice when Mila had done the same. “Said there would be plenty more work if we wanted it, too. Not a bad idea to have a billionaire indebted to us, especially since we know the Dark Star is going to be making herself better known.”

  “So that’s the plan? Hunt down the Dark Star?”

  Finn nodded, then shook his head. “I don't know yet. To be honest, I think we need to do some serious thinking about what it is the Dark Star is trying to do. She has a plan, and after hearing what Jeffery had to say, I can't blame people for following her. People need a place to belong where they can be themselves.”

  “I feel like defeating the Dark Star wouldn't really solve the problem, then. Without her, the disenfranchised will just flock to the next opportunity. That’s what happened in Russia after the Czar was killed, and it didn't turn out great for a lot of their people. I can't even imagine what that would look like on a global scale.”

  “I’m not sure what a Russia or a Czar is, but I think I get your drift. Something similar happened to one of my father’s provinces.” Finn said, his brows furrowing at the memory.

  “How did he solve the problem?” Mila asked, sneaking another peanut wh
ile Penny looked away in an obvious attempt to seem oblivious.

  A dark look passed over Finn's face. “He killed them.”

  “The people heading up the coup?”

  Finn shook his head. “No. He killed them all. I did mention my father was a monster, right?”

  The look of horror on Mila's face was all Finn needed to see to know that a subject change was on the table. “That’s why we need a plan. I want to start asking magicals what it is they need; see if there is a simpler solution to the problem.”

  She nodded, taking a sip of her drink. “That’s not a bad plan. We need to get the lay of the land before we can work to change it.”

  He gave her a smile. “That’s what I love about you; you always assume we’re going to succeed.”

  Mila rubbed at the back of her neck, closing her eyes as a bit of pain reared up.

  “You okay?” Finn had been a little on edge over her condition ever since they arrived.

  She nodded and gave him a smile. “Yeah. Just a little residual stiffness. Nothing a song or two won’t cure.” She slipped off her stool, and leaned against him, resting her head on his shoulder. “Thanks for taking care of me, but don't think you’re getting out of your bet. You still owe me an hour-long foot massage.”

  Finn cocked his head at her as if she were crazy. “I have been rubbing your feet and your shoulders and back and anything else you presented to me over the last three days. I figured you would be a massaged to a fine paste by now.”

  She shook her head, her face completely serious. “It didn't count.”

  “Why not?”

  “Because I don't remember it. I must have been asleep.” She shrugged, giving him a mockingly sad face. “Sorry, but you still owe me.”

  He smiled, putting an arm around her shoulders. “I’ll be happy to fulfill my end of the bargain.”

  She stood on her tiptoes and gave him a peck on the cheek. “I know.” She turned and sauntered off towards the stage just as Danica finished up to a round of applause.

  Finn watched her go, a grin plastered on his face. She stopped and turned back her brows furrowed. “Wait. What exactly did I “present” for a rubdown while I was out of it?”

  His brows began to creep up his forehead, but before he had to answer, she burst out laughing and skipped up onto the stage, smacking Danica on the butt as she passed her.

  Finn glanced down at Penny, who was doing her best not to laugh, but making eye contact with him was more than the little dragon could take. She huffed a ball of smoke out as she snorted a laugh before clamping a hand over her mouth.

  “You know as well as I do that nothing happened.” He rolled his eyes, which made Penny laugh all the more.

  “What’s so funny?” Danica asked, taking Mila's stool and reaching across the table for her glass of white wine.

  “Nothing.” Finn grumped as Penny held up her hands and squeezed the air while doing a pretty good impression of a honking horn.

  Danica raised an eyebrow at the display. “You know what? I don't think I want to know.”

  Mila started her song—With a Little Help from My Friends, the Joe Cocker version. They listened as she sang the first verse, her eyes closed when she hit the high notes. The crowd loved her commitment if not her skill.

  “So, what do you think?” Finn asked, leaning in and speaking low so they weren’t overheard.

  “About the song? Solid choice.” Danica tapped her fingers on the table along with the beat.

  “It is a good choice, but I was talking about her condition.”

  Danica turned to look at him, a frown on her face. “I honestly don't know yet. She burned herself out good with that damned thing. Honestly, I’m surprised she’s out of bed. I figured she would sleep for a good couple of weeks.”

  “It was that bad?” Finn had known it wasn’t good, but Danica hadn't made that big a deal out of it. Now he realized she hadn't said anything for Mila's benefit.

  Danica nodded. “If it were a magical this had happened to, I would say they would be cut off from their magic forever. Their magical center would have been burned up for good. But along with that, they would have never woken from their coma as she has, so she’s already defying the odds.” She turned and watched Mila for a few seconds, a faraway look on her face. “There’s something different about our girl. I give it fifty-fifty odds she is either cut off from magic forever or that it comes back and is stronger than ever. I just don't know.”

  A buzz made Finn look down at the table, and he noticed Mila had left her phone. The screen lit up with the name Preston Meriwether.

  “You going to get that?” Danica asked, her eyes wide at the thought of one of the most powerful men in the country having her friend’s personal number.

  Finn sighed. “I really don't want too. I just want to have a nice quiet night with my friends.” He picked up the phone anyway and hit the accept button. “Hello?”

  “Finn.” Preston didn't sound surprised it was him. “You really need to get a phone.”

  “I have one.”

  “True, but it isn’t doing you much good since it was buried with Peter’s body when no one came to claim his things.”

  Finn shrugged. “I don't know. It’s saved me from having to use it. What can we do for you, Preston?”

  “It’s not what you can do for me, but what I can do for you.” He paused for dramatic effect, which made Finn roll his eyes.

  “Okay, I’ll bite. What can you do for me?” Finn said, downing the rest of his mostly full whiskey.

  “I can tell you where the Anthem is.”

  Finn, Penny and Mila are working as a team, but the cost of victory is mounting. The Dark Star has taken the Anthem and is rebuilding the ship. Finn wants to get it back but it's at the bottom of a lake and Dwarves hate water. They sink fast.

  Plus, there's that price on his head.

  Join Finn and his friends in their next adventure as they face the Dark Star once and for all in Anthem of the Dwarf King!

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  Author Notes - Charley Case

  December 5, 2019

  First off, thanks for reading the book. Just the fact that you picked it up and gave it a chance means the world to me. Seriously.

  I never know what to write in these notes. I always figure my fiction words are what people are after, so why bore them with the personal stuff?

  Then I remember that storytelling is personal. As an author, my job is to keep the story going in an interesting and fun way, but I’ll let you all in on a little secret.

  Most of us don't have any clue what we’re doing.

  Now, I don't mean that we don't know how to twist a sentence to make it sound better. Or that we don't understand the power of a comma (Let’s eat grandma! Let’s eat, grandma!).

  No, when I say we don't know what we’re doing, what I mean is, we don't know what it’s like to be other people. No one does.

  But in my books, there are hundreds of different characters, each one with hopes and dreams of their own, but they also all have one thing in common; me. Each one of them has a little piece of me in their DNA, and if you know what parts to pick out you could stitch together a pretty good facsimile of my life.

  Everything is in there. How I felt when I lost my shoe in the Thames river when I was nine. The first girl I ever kissed. How a popsicle tasted on the hottest day of the year on my grandparents’ farm in Ohio. The day I married my wife. The day my father died.

  It’s all there in tiny bits and pieces, right out in the open but also scattered over a hundred lives.

  It’s late and the cats are passed out on the cat tree in my office. They all have their own spot, all curled up in a hammock or on a plush
bed; it’s a really nice cat tree. My wife has gone to bed, humoring me while I write to my friends, but still a little pissed that I didn't get this done earlier. I told her I didn't know what to say.

  “Don’t you write for a living?” She cocked a brow and narrowed her eyes.

  “Yeah. But that’s different. I make that stuff up.”

  She laughed. “No you don't. You just adapt stuff from your real life. I’ve read your books, honey. I know where you got it from.”

  “Well, shit… you’re right.”

  My wife is smarter than me.

  I love you all, and I’ll see you in the next book. (and if you know where to look, you’ll see me there too)

  Charley Case

  (December 5th, 2019

  Boise, Idaho)

  Want to connect with me? Follow me on Facebook or join my Facebook group.

  Author Notes - Martha Carr

  December 15, 2019

  I first met Ramy Vance at 20Books50k convention in 2018. He was yelling out my name from down a long, wide hallway. “Martha Carr! Martha Carr! I want to be you!” It was his enthusiasm that kept me from running the other way and fading into the crowd. It’s his best characteristic. He leads with joy and curiosity. Except for that time I drove us both over a wall… It was dark, okay? And Ramy said nothing about that wall I didn’t see. Besides, as I told him, it’s a Subaru. They can take it. Best part was Ramy muttering, “Good thing we know a cop.” And when I gunned it to get the car over the rest of the way, I saw (and it’s the only time I’ve seen it) a genuine look of fear on his face and he said, resigned to our fate, “Oh, he can’t help us now…”