Boreal and John Grey Season 2

by Thoma, Chrystalla

  Boreal and John Grey

  Complete Season Two

  Centuries ago, they nearly conquered humankind. But their Gate to our world was closed, and they were defeated. Now the elves have found a way to open it, and they’re back.

  This is Season II of the series. Look out for new dangerous Shades, dragons and a world spinning out of control...

  Table of Contents

  Episode 1: The Threads

  Episode 2: The Snare

  Episode 3: The Warp

  Episode 4: The Loop

  Episode 5: The Weave

  Author’s Note

  Boreal and John Grey (Complete Season Two) © Copyright 2014 by Chrystalla Thoma

  All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the author.

  The characters and events portrayed in this book are fictitious. Any similarity to real persons, living or dead, events, is coincidental and not intended by the author.

  Cover design by Chrystalla Thoma and Nathalie Hamidi

  Acknowledgments

  Heartfelt thanks to Harlow Fallon, Claire Bugler Hewitt, J.A. Beard and Arlene Webb for beta reading (in part or entirety) Boreal and John Grey.

  Thank you also to Ludger Zeevaert for his help with Old Norse (any mistakes are mine alone).

  Also, a big thank you to all the people in my two critique groups for their constant support and great suggestions. Any errors in the story are of course solely mine.

  Author’s note:

  At the beginning of each episode, there is a short text or poem. Certain lines of those texts and poems were borrowed from the Younger Edda, a medieval Icelandic saga which you can find online on the Gutenberg Project site.

  Norse words used in the text:

  Adramar: name of the elven queen

  Aelfr-Aelfar: elf-elves

  Aesir: gods

  Blod: blood

  Dokkaelfar: Dark elves

  Drengr: warrior

  Duergr-Duergar: dwarf-dwarves

  Fadhir: father

  Faen: devil (swear word)

  Faudr: death

  Helgrind: gate of Hell (swear word)

  Joettnar: giants or demons

  Ljosaelfar: Light elves

  Loki: spider (also the name of a Jotunn trickster god)

  Modhir: mother

  Systkin: friends

  Vaettir: shades

  Vanir: gods

  Visi: commander

  The threads

  Episode 1

  Nine worlds grow on the World Tree.

  At the center lies Midgard, the human world.

  Above is rich Asgard, land of the Aesir,

  And cold Aelfheim where the Light Elves dwell.

  In the north is Niflheim, of fog and lost voices,

  In the east Jotunheim, of the sorcerer giants,

  In the south Musspelheim, home to the fire demons,

  In the west Vanaheim, prison of the vanquished gods.

  And down below, in roots and blood, there’s Svartalfheim, the Dark Elves’ cradle,

  and then Helheim, the pit of tortured ghosts.

  Chapter One

  Sunrise

  Insistent ringing roused Ella from sleep, shattering a dream of Finn talking to her earnestly about lollipops.

  Lollipops? Seriously?

  Damn ringing continued. Had to be the alarm clock, Ella thought fuzzily and made a grab for it, upturning the lamp on her bedside table and catching it a second before it crashed to the floor.

  Not the alarm clock.

  Phone.

  Blindly she groped for it and rolled on her back to answer, her arm flopping to the side.

  Cold sheets. Finn wasn’t in bed. Where the hell was he?

  And how was she going to stop the damn ringing?

  She fumbled with the phone, jabbing a finger on the touchscreen and setting off alarms and flashing lights. God, this damn new mobile Mike insisted she buy. “Hello? Can you hear me?”

  “Ella.” Dave’s crisp voice brought her to full wakefulness. “We have a situation.”

  “You don’t say.” Because Dave usually called to read her the daily horoscope... Yeah, right. She sat up, scanning the room. Nope, Finn wasn’t there. “So, what’s up, boss man?”

  They hadn’t had any Shade sightings in a month, and no Gates reported open. It had been quiet downtime, during which they’d more or less relaxed, checking any strange occurrence, verifying it wasn’t what they feared.

  And now...

  Ella’s pulse sped up. She wedged the phone between cheek and shoulder and got up, hunting for her cardigan. “Dave, are you still there?”

  Papers being shuffled, a siren wailing in the background. “Yeah. Listen... We seem to have a sighting.”

  Crap. “Sighting. Of what?” Pulling the cardigan on, she exited into the corridor. Where was Finn? “Please tell me this is a bad dream I’m having.” She’d much rather go back to the one with the lollipops, weird though it might have been. She glanced into the bathroom. The radio clock on the shelf read three thirty in the fucking morning. “Make that a very bad dream.”

  “White creature, flying over the buildings. Could be anything. Could be just a rumor, but things have been too quiet lately and that worries me.”

  Yeah. Ella couldn’t deny she felt the same. “Where?”

  “You know the abandoned clothes factory behind the wharves?”

  “Right. I’m on it.”

  More shuffling of papers. A phone ringing.

  Ella waited. “Anything you’re not telling me, Dave?”

  “Well.” Dave cleared his throat. “The sighting was quite far from you, so it can’t be a new Gate, can it?”

  Ella blinked a few times in the dimness of the corridor, her hand lifted to open the living room door.

  Right, he was asking her because she was supposed to know how Finn’s magic worked. Dave wasn’t supposed to know she operated on hunches and experimentation when it came to that. “Too far,” she said.

  Was it?

  “Finn promised he’d keep the Gates shut,” Dave muttered, sounding distant. “He’d better.”

  Ella frowned. “What do you mean?”

  “Check out the damn sighting,” Dave said tiredly. “Okay?”

  She grabbed the handle and the door swung open from the inside, scaring the bejesus out of her. “Shit.”

  Finn stood there. He lifted a brow at her and folded his arms over his bare chest. He looked good. Hell, he looked practically edible in grey drawstring pants, his silvery hair loose on his shoulders. Barefoot. A light sheen of sweat covered his skin as if he’d been exercising.

  Why the hell was he exercising at frigging three thirty in the morning?

  “Ella,” Dave barked into the phone, “are you listening to me?”

  “Yeah, yeah.”

  Finn withdrew into the living room and she followed.

  “Just go over there and report, copy that?”

  “Yes. Over and out.” Ella pressed a random button on the glowing touchscreen, hoping it’d turn the damn thing off.

  Honestly? Dave knew she wasn’t a morning person — hey, it wasn’t even morning yet — and multitasking before dawn wasn’t one of her strengths. Especially with so much of Finn’s body in display. It tended to fry a girl’s thoughts.

  Besides, it couldn’t be a Gate. Dave was right, it was too far, and the temperature hadn’t changed. No freak snow storms. No dream memories from Finn. Maybe it was an albatross. Or a helicopter. Hell, it could even be the morning star. Peopl
e often took it for an alien spaceship, and it could be that.

  Right?

  Finn was puttering in the kitchen and she followed the sounds. There was a hint of freshly brewed coffee on the air. A steaming mug of her favorite tea sat on the counter. Finn waited until she took a long draught of its bitter goodness, then he leaned back and lifted his chin.

  “Sighting?” he asked, sipping his coffee.

  “Yep. Something flying, Dave said.” She hesitated. “It’s not a Gate, is it?”

  Finn shook his head and turned to put his mug in the sink. In the harsh light of the fluorescent lamp, the smattering of fine scars on his back glinted like silver.

  “Okay then.” She gulped down her tea, scalding her tongue. “Let’s go check it out.”

  ***

  The dusty windows of the abandoned factory had a rosy tint. The sun was rising over the wharves that lined the sea shore, coloring the clouds.

  “Can’t see a damn thing,” Ella muttered, standing by the car, squinting upward. “Can you?”

  Finn opened the car door and scowled at the overcast sky. His clear eyes reflected the grey as he drew his semi-automatic from its shoulder holster. He got out, dressed only in a white t-shirt and black cargo pants.

  Jesus. The temperature was in the thirties and she was wrapped up in her jacket and scarf. Damn elves and their tolerance to the cold.

  She pulled her gun from its hip holster, following him to the padlocked doors, watched as he rattled them and stepped back.

  No need to break them down. If it was an animal that had crossed over from Aelfheim it wouldn’t have locked up after using the place.

  Finn re-holstered his gun, headed to a rusty ladder nailed to the wall and started climbing.

  Flying creature. Roof nesting. Made sense, but damn, she hated heights.

  Muttering to herself, casting one last look around, she clambered up the rusty, rickety rungs.

  The roof was a wasteland of broken crates, metal grids and assorted trash. Finn was crouched by a wide chimney, his hair draped on his shoulders like a cloak of silver.

  Quiet. No wind.

  But something moved in the air, a golden ripple. Ella narrowed her eyes. A reflection on metal?

  Another ripple and she drew her knives, watching the air break into successive waves that vanished.

  The air was still once more.

  The hell was that? When Finn had opened Gates, the air had bulged and shapes had been visible through the Veil, but this...

  Wary, knives held loosely at her sides, she stalked toward Finn who stood, head bowed, still staring at a spot on the roof.

  “Find anything?” she called.

  A hesitation. His blue eyes flicked sideways, finding her. “Not sure.”

  “What is it?” Nothing out of place she could see from where he stood. Just more garbage — broken wooden beams and slabs of concrete.

  “An animal nested here,” Finn said. “The scent is a few days old.”

  “What kind of animal?”

  “I don’t know.”

  “Come on, Finn, your nose is like a bloodhound’s. If you can’t tell me...”

  “A White animal. But there’s a human smell, too.” He frowned. “Familiar smell.”

  White animal. Aelfheim. Hell. “I thought you said no Gate opened.”

  He shook his head.

  Could he tell when a Gate opened? So far it had always happened when he was caught in nightmares. Did that mean he really had no bad dreams anymore?

  And if not, why had he been awake before dawn?

  “Were you dreaming of army drills this morning, Finn?” She observed him move to another spot and sort through trash. “That why you were up so early?”

  Finn didn’t answer.

  Typical.

  Sighing, she walked to the edge of the roof. Not afraid of heights, not afraid of heights...

  Nothing stirred below. Mist curled around the buildings. She turned, sheathing her knives, thinking another cup of hot tea would be nice before reporting to Dave.

  “Your dragon,” Finn said.

  “Beg your pardon?”

  He tilted his head to the side, blue eyes narrowed. “This place smells of dragon, and...” He lifted a chunk of wood and fabric from the floor. “This smells of you.”

  “Wait, are you saying this is the dragon you tamed and sent away? The one that burned my apartment down?” That bastard. The days and weeks after that had been crazy busy — and then crazy crazy — so she hadn’t thought about it. She’d assumed Dave had taken care of the dragon. She eyed the piece of furniture Finn held. “Hey, is that from my sofa?”

  “Dragon moved on. She doesn’t nest here anymore.”

  She-dragon. When he’d stuck the knife in the dragon’s head that night, Ella thought the creature had left the way it had come. Back to Aelfheim. Now why she’d thought it possible...

  “Where can she be now?” Ella asked.

  “High places. This sort of dragon nests in the mountains.” Finn threw the piece of wood across the roof, striking a chimney. He kicked a box. “Faen.”

  “Whoa.” Ella lifted her brows. “What’s up?”

  “We need to talk to Dave.”

  “Yeah, I know that’s annoying.” Dave being the man who shot Finn with the purpose of killing him, a man who was in fact a clockwork machine programmed to guard the Gates against John Grey, but still... “I can do the talking. You can stand there and grunt if you like.”

  Finn didn’t seem amused. Go figure. “I know why the scent was different.” He stalked to the edge of the roof and rubbed a hand over his face.

  Okay... “So, why?”

  “She’s going to lay eggs.”

  Eggs. More dragons.

  Oh fuck. “Actually, you’d better do the talking this time. Sorry, but I know jack about dragon babies.”

  ***

  Dave’s office was immaculate as always. Neat piles of documents on his table, a half-empty mug on a leather coaster, not a spec of dust on the shelves where folders were arranged by color.

  Maybe dust got in his machinery?

  Finn leaned by the closed door, one booted foot propped on the wall — putting as much distance between himself and their boss as possible.

  Well, Dave had shot him once. Standing in the same room with him was brave, in Ella’s opinion.

  “Are you sure about this, son?” Dave scratched at his eternal three-day stubble, then leaned away from his desk. “That she’s going to reproduce?”

  Finn nodded. “Her scent’s sour.”

  Lovely. The first dragon to cross over had to be a pregnant one.

  “I see.” Dave was humming. Stressed out. Probably about to blow a fuse.

  Ella snickered, then pretended to cough behind her hand. “Sorry.”

  Yeah, not funny at all.

  “And you’re sure no new Gate opened?” Dave stared at Finn who glared back. The air sizzled.

  “I can’t be sure,” Finn said. “But I don’t think so.”

  “No nightmares and no Gates opening, huh? You’d better be right.” Dave sipped from his mug. God knew what he had in there; probably the special oil for his metal cogs and wheels, as reported in the Grarsaga.

  Vile.

  “Problem is, we have no clue where the damn dragon is nesting,” Ella said. “She may be anywhere, on high ground, having puppies right now for all we know.”

  “Dragonets,” Dave said.

  “Yeah yeah.”

  “We’ll place lookouts.” Dave placed his mug square on its coaster, then started arranging his pens by color on the desk, humming so loud Ella’s teeth gritted. “We’ll let you know as soon as she’s sighted.”

  “She will be dangerous,” Finn said quietly.

  Oh right. Because fire-breathing, truck-sized dragons were normally friendly, cuddly creatures.

  “And you know how to handle her, don’t you?” Dave nodded at Finn.

  “Are you trying to get him killed again?” Ella
rose from her seat, seething. “Sending him out against this frigging monster—”

  “Hey.” Dave lifted his hands. “Calm down. I don’t have a choice. He’s our only resident dragonslayer. You know as well as I do we can’t let a dragon roam the city. I don’t think she’s vegetarian, know what I mean?”

  Ella sank back down. “Shit. But you can send someone else. Use heavy artillery. The big guns. You know. Something like that.”

  Dave tapped the handle of his gun. “You think it’s that easy?”

  “I'll do it,” Finn said, his voice quiet.

  Ella turned. “What? No. Come on, Finn...”

  “Finn knows best how to do this. And he’s the one who let the dragon escape. Now he has to stop her before it’s too late.” Dave stood and approached Finn, clapped a hand on the elf’s shoulder. “It’s your duty, son. You know what to do.”

  Ella opened her mouth to send Dave to hell — Finn had saved her life and that of everyone in her neighborhood that night, almost getting killed in the process — but Finn pushed off the wall, his face going blank.

  “At your command,” he said.

  ***

  “Finn. Hey.” Ella had dragged him out of Dave’s office and down the corridor to the elevators. Now she pushed him against the wall, worried about his continued lack of reaction. “Are you okay?”

  Finn gave a slow blink. “Yeah.”

  Oh thank god. “Care to tell me what just happened?”

  He glanced at the elevators, then at the long corridor with its bare hanging bulbs. He frowned. “Need to find the dragon.”

  “Dave will tell us when he finds her.” She gave him another long, searching look. “What did he say that made you zone out like that?”

  Finn shook his head, brows drawing together.

  Ella suppressed a sigh. “Won’t you tell me what’s going on?”

  “I’m fine.”

  “Dammit, Finn.” Talk about denial.

  She called the elevator, chewing on her lip, frustrated and worried. It bothered her that Finn had zoned out in front of Dave. The damn robot was shrewd, and although he’d promised to play nice, nothing was stopping him from finding out what triggered the flashbacks, if that was what they were, and use them to control Finn.