Anthem Of The Dwarf King

by Charley Case

  “Wait.” Mila raised her hand. “You’re telling me you guys have faster than light travel?”

  Finn and Penny exchanged amused looks. “How else would we get to other galaxies?”

  Mila’s eyebrows were nearly to her hairline. Even Danica was surprised. “That’s the holy grail of physics,” said Mila. “Our scientists have been working to achieve FTL travel since we discovered relativity. Most people in the field say it’s impossible.”

  “They’re right.” Finn shrugged apologetically. “Without magic, it probably is.”

  “What’s it like?” Danica asked, her eyes bright with wonder.

  Finn and Penny laughed, then realized she wasn't joking. Finn cleared his throat at her dark look. “Well, you’ve done it yourself. Every teleport spell you’ve ever used is the same as a hyperdrive, just on a smaller scale. Teleporting is instantaneous, which is faster than lightspeed.”

  Realization dawned on Danica. “Oh. I guess that makes it more interesting, but it’s too fast to see. Is it instant in space too?”

  “Pretty much.” Finn raised an eyebrow at Penny so she could chime in.

  The small dragon went into a long explanation, including grand gestures and spouts of flame.

  “Let me guess,” Mila said excitedly. “A small amount of time elapses, but you can't perceive it?”

  Finn cocked his head. “Did you understand that?”

  Mila rocked her head side to side. “Sort of. I mostly figured it out from her gestures, but an idea formed in my brain when she finished.”

  Finn glanced at Penny, who smiled wide enough he could see the teeth in the back of her mouth.

  “Was I right?” Mila asked, glancing between the two.

  Finn knew it required training from an early age to understand Penny, so it continued to shock him whenever Mila understood her. “You missed a few details, but that’s the gist. Traveling that fast overwhelms the senses, so you can't perceive any of it until you drop back into sub-luminal speeds.” He held up a hand and shook his head. “I’m sorry, but you can understand Penny all the sudden?”

  Mila laughed. “Hardly. Being around her so much, I guess I’m figuring things out from her connotations.”

  “How long has that been going on?” Danica seemed as interested as Finn.

  Mila gazed at the ceiling, trying to work it out. “Well, I was getting it some before the circlet burned me. Honestly, after I recovered, it does seem to be coming easier.”

  Finn peered at Mila, searching for a magical aura. Like every time before, she was a dead space. That didn't make sense. Understanding draconic, especially Penny's particular language, was magical on every level. Her language was unlike most languages—no direct translation of her words and gestures existed. The interpretation of those gestures and words, along with the magic that came off her, conveyed her meaning. Sure, Penny did some things anyone could translate to a point, common human gestures and such, but that was pantomiming, not speaking. If Mila comprehended her, she was interpreting Penny’s magical dialect of the draconic language, which meant she had access to her magic on some level; yet, Finn couldn't see it, at least not in her aura.

  Once again, he was struck by Mila. He was either too dense to figure her out, or she was so extraordinary, he didn't know what to look for.

  “Okay, well, keep working on it. Penny, why don't you start some simple language lessons with her?” Finn blinked a few times to organize his thoughts. “Okay. I say we head up to Grand Lake and investigate. We need to keep a low profile, but we also need to be safe if the Dark Star has her people up there. Luckily, Preston felt the same way, so he gave us keys to his cabin.” Finn pulled two metal cards about twice the thickness of a credit card from his pocket. Each card bore a complex rune etched into its surface. He set them down, and everyone inspected them like they might jump up and do jig.

  “Those are keys?” Mila asked, her brow going up.

  “Yeah. The cabin is heavily warded. We need to either have one of these on us, or we need to be accepted by one of them to enter the premises. Just press your thumb to them, and they will accept you as users. He said they'd last a month, and then they need to be reset.”

  Taking the lead, he pressed his thumb to the metal of the top card. It flashed, making everyone flinch. Mila and Penny followed suit, the light flashing for both of them.

  “I wish I could see what a cabin means to Preston Meriwether,” Danica joked, getting up from the counter. “Well, I’m off to work. I have the overnight shift, so don't wait up, you two.” She gave Mila a hug and headed to her room.

  “You want to watch McLintock again?” Finn suggested.

  Both Mila and Penny groaned.

  Chapter Three

  After a long, and barely civil, conversation about the need to expand Finn's movie experience, Mila convinced him to watch UP. At first, he scoffed at watching a children's movie, but after the first heartbreaking ten minutes of cinema that is the backstory for UP, he was hooked. They ended up watching Wall-e next and quit only because Mila insisted they didn't burn through the entire PIXAR catalog in one sitting.

  They decided on drinks and donned clothes appropriate for public viewing. Finn traded sweats for jeans and a black t-shirt, his stitched-together bomber jacket, and the brown leather shoulder holster loaded with Fragar and two healing potions, just in case. Mila lost her ducky pajama bottoms and big fluffy sweater, coming out of her room in leggings, a mock turtleneck, and knee-high boots, all black. Finn preferred a more utilitarian chunky-heeled boot, although he appreciated the exceptionally ornate leatherwork and mock laces all the way up the back of her calves.

  “You ready?” she asked, pulling her short maroon leather jacket off the coat hook.

  “Yeah.” He held his jacket open for Penny, who snatched a fresh box of Charleston Chews from the counter and dove into the opening, then settled in her mesh hammock at the small of his back. He heard her rip the cardboard open and start chomping. “Don't leave your trash back there like last time,” he warned.

  A tooting reply made him roll his eyes.

  Mila laughed, laying her jacket on the counter before grabbing her corset holster and wrapping it around her waist. She used the metal latches in the front to secure it, then checked that Gram and her potions were in their proper places and secured.

  As she threw on her jacket, Finn felt a spike of pride. She had readied for the unexpected without him reminding her. At first, he’d worried the corset was uncomfortable, but Mila had assured him it was deceptively comfortable, although admitted she felt like she was going through a goth phase while wearing it. When he asked her to explain what a “goth phase” was, she mumbled something about a lot of black clothing and lipstick. He had seen her makeup counter in her bathroom and spied several old tubes of black lipstick, not to mention she still painted her nails a sleek matte-black.

  They took the slow elevator to the lobby and stepped onto Larimer Street. Cold winter wind whipped through them, making Mila hold her thin jacket closed and give an involuntary shiver. The breeze tugged Finn’s beard as he breathed the crisp air, thinking it was nice. Admittedly, he was better at regulating his body heat than Peabrains.

  “Looks like it’s time to break out the winter wear,” Mila said, shoulders shaking.

  Finn put an arm around her, sharing his body heat, and she leaned in as they started walking.

  “Do you want to go back and get a heavier coat?” he asked, hitting the crosswalk button, although it was late and there were hardly any cars on the road.

  She shook her head and tugged at him, forcing him to jaywalk. “Nope. We’ve gone too far, but you need to step on it, bub. I won’t last much longer.”

  He picked up speed as best he could while keeping his arm around her shoulders until they were a wobbling, half-jogging mess. Finn began to laugh as he stopped on the corner at 20th street. He shrugged out of his jacket and put it around her shoulders, the huge jacket coming down to her knees.

 
“Here. You need this more than I do,” Finn said, not finding the cold all that biting.

  Penny yelped and shot from the mesh hammock on his back, landing on Mila's shoulder before crawling into the warmth of the coat and holding onto Mila's leather belt.

  “Hey, as a bonus, you get a dragon to keep you toasty.” Finn chuckled at Penny’s annoyed glare. “Sorry, I didn't know you had become such a softy since getting to Earth.”

  “Chi shir shi!” She narrowed her eyes and extended the middle talon on her right hand.

  Mila sniggered and closed the coat, making her look pregnant with a Penny-sized bulge. “Don't worry, Penny. You and I can stay warm together. This crazy bastard could run naked through the Arctic and be just fine.”

  A muffled “Chi!” let them know what she thought of that.

  The night was young, but the cold front that had rolled in the previous night kept most people indoors, so no one witnessed a black van jump the curb and block their way. The side door slid open, and two men jumped out before the van even stopped. They held pistols and wore black ski masks, and the rest of their tactical gear looked like something from a catalog for mercenaries.

  Finn pushed Mila behind him as he reached for Fragar and lowered his center of gravity for a fight.

  The men spread apart to get multiple angles on Finn and leveled their pistols. “Hand up, buddy,” the left one said with menace. “You two are coming with us one way or the other.”

  The other man flashed a toothy smile through his ski mask. “We don't know who you people are, but the bounty on your heads will put us firmly with the big boys.”

  “Keep it professional, Jim,” the left one growled.

  Jim glared through his mask at his partner. “Don’t fucking use my name, idiot.”

  “What’s it matter?” Left Guy stepped toward Finn, gun pointed at his head.

  Finn had checked the Dark Star bounty status several times with the phone ripped from their first assassin’s pocket at the hospital. Last he checked, the price was five million for his capture or one million for his body. Mila had a half a million, dead or alive, on her. So far, no mention of Penny; not including her was a huge mistake on the Dark Star’s part, but he figured mentioning a dragon kind of ruled out Peabrain assassins. The Dark Star was going for quantity over quality.

  “What’s it matter? I don't know, George. What does it matter?”

  Finn's vision reddened around the edges and his heart rate climbed. Behind him, he heard Mila whisper the power word for her armor.

  The two mercs continued arguing, although George kept his cool better than Jim, who waved his pistol around as they squabbled. “This was supposed to be a quick snatch and grab, but you had to go and blow our cover.”

  A few people across the street stopped to stare.

  George ground his teeth. “Will you shut the fuck up and zip-tie this giant? Use two ties; I don't want him breaking free in the van.”

  “You fucking zip-tie him. I have him covered,” Jim argued, not covering Finn in the least since his arms were in the air.

  “Jim, you fucking braindead son of a—”

  Finn leaped forward. He didn't bother with a weapon.

  George turned, eyes wide. Finn's massive hand engulfed his head, lifted the man into the air, and slammed him into the van through the still-open doors. George hit the steel bed with a loud thump, and his body went limp.

  Jim screeched and pointed his gun at Finn's back.

  Finn went to summon a pillar of rock to knock Jim back, but his rage kept the magic just out of reach.

  A third merc shouted, fumbling for something as he sat in the van’s driver’s seat.

  Finn spun toward Jim as a blue and red streak shot from Mila's coat and latched onto Jim’s face. Penny let out a tiny roar, and Jim stumbled and swung the butt of his pistol at her back. At the last second, she jumped away, and Jim smashed his own nose. It sprayed blood, and he screamed.

  Mila shoulder-checked Jim as he clutched his face, sending him toward Finn, who tossed him into the van. The man slammed into the interior’s far wall and crumpled to the floor on top of the unconscious George.

  The glass of the passenger side window exploded inward as Penny hit it with a superheated flame. She slid into the van and flared her wings in the driver’s face.

  “Leave,” Finn growled, his eyes dark with menace. “Don't come back. Ever.”

  The merc looked from the dragon, smoke and flame roiling from her clenched teeth, and then at Finn. He nodded and threw the van into reverse. The tires squealed on the sidewalk, and the van rocked off the curb and into the street. No one was coming, so the van peeled out, sending snow and slush up in a rooster tail, then sped down the street and around the corner.

  Penny landed on Finn's shoulder and placed her hand on his cheek. She cooed.

  It took a few seconds before Finn could think clearly, his rage abating from her soothing magical touch.

  “Are you okay?” Mila approached cautiously and slipped her hand into his.

  He nodded, eyes closed, and gave her hand a squeeze, then opened his eyes and smiled. “I think I could use a drink.”

  Chapter Four

  Finn and Mila bellied up to the long oak bar inside The Refinery. Danny, the bartender, noticed Finn’s dour expression and served their usual, a double whiskey and a beer and a G&T, without being asked. He also gave them a bowl of peanuts and moved to the far end of the bar, picking up a paperback and sticking his nose in it.

  Considering the cold and late hour on a weekday, about six other people paired off at the various booths in quiet conversation, the soft pop music playing just loud enough to be heard without being obtrusive.

  Penny climbed out of Mila’s bomber jacket and onto the bar. She stretched out her arms like she was about to dive into a pool, then slipped into the bowl of peanuts, munching loudly.

  Mila hung their jackets on the back of her stool and climbed into the seat. She crossed her arms on the bar and put her head down. “This has got to stop,” she said, her voice muffled in her sleeves. She raised her head and glanced at Finn. “I thought it was all over when we got the hounds back. I mean, I knew it wasn't, but I guess I wished it was.”

  Finn threw back the double shot in one gulp, then put the glass down and enjoyed the smoky flavor before answering, “Yeah. The only way to stop them is to either get our names off the site or stop the Dark Star. Since she can just put the bounty back up, looks like we need to stop her.”

  “Chi chir.” Penny lounged in her bowl.

  “I don't think moving will do the trick, Penny,” Mila responded. “Besides, you warded the condo. It’s safe enough.”

  Finn raised an eyebrow. Mila didn't seem to notice she’d understood Penny. Even the dragon was shocked, although less than Finn. She had been trying to teach Mila how to understand her, but they hadn't had much headway except for the occasional blip, like earlier during lunch.

  “Speaking of,” Finn slowly said, back to speed after Mila’s spontaneous translation. “Penny, I think we need to reinforce the wards. If we get any hitmen with real magical abilities, we’ll need a more robust protection grid. Do you have anything more you can do?”

  She thought about it and nodded. “Shee.” A ring of smoke drifted from her nostril. He didn't ask her to elaborate; wards were her job, and he didn't know how to craft them for shit.

  “Damn it.” Mila discerned a smear of blood on her hand.

  “Holy shit, are you okay?” Finn reached behind the bar and grabbed a small handful of napkins.

  “Yeah, I must have cut my hand when I charged that guy.” She pressed the napkins to her palm and applied pressure. “I’m going to go to the bathroom and clean this up. It looks pretty shallow.”

  “Take a healing potion.” Finn reached for a vial tucked into his pouch on his holster.

  She slipped off the stool, waving off his offer. “I’m not taking a thousand-dollar potion for a tiny cut. I’ll clean it up. It’s not bleeding
anymore.”

  “Well, at least take Penny. I don't think there are any more of those mercs around, but better safe than sorry.”

  Mila waved for Penny to come. “I guess we can have a little girl time while I clean up.”

  Penny slipped out of the bowl, shaking peanut dust off like a dog that had just come out of the bath. She leapt to Mila’s shoulder and Finn watched them go, appreciating Mila’s shapely behind, then shook his head and turned back to his drink.

  “Hey, man. I know how that goes.”

  Finn nearly jumped out of his seat.

  An old man occupied the stool beside him. The best word Finn could find to describe him was “threadbare.” The man’s thin frame was draped with a large, heavy coat that looked like it had been made out of several other coats. A long red wool scarf hung around his neck, one end trailing to the floor, where it crumpled in a pile. He had long white hair pulled into a ponytail that hung past his shoulders and a thick white beard, the hair contrasting with his dark skin.

  Finn took him for a homeless man who had wandered in off the street, yet something about his eyes told Finn something that wasn’t true. “I’m sorry, what?”

  The old man held out a leathery hand. “Name’s Rolf. Rolf Williamson. Pleasure to finally meet you, Finn.”