“How is this going to go down for you?” I asked, eyeing the various vessels bobbing in the sea. “We’re about to confront your people. Your king.”
Govam nodded as Hadriel glanced back at us. He turned again, staring at the vessels lining the water before shifting to look out at the village. Oh goddess, I hoped that was good news. Even just one of the two would greatly help our cause.
“Do you plan to fight with us?” I asked.
“There are a great many of Dolion’s supporters whom I would absolutely help you kill. But there are just as many who are simply trying to survive. They are the ones I would like to call on to help turn this tide.”
Regardless, the people in our kingdom wouldn’t know he was on our side. Which meant he’d have to be kept away from the actual fighting. He had knowledge that Nyfain could surely use. I didn’t want to risk him accidentally being killed, not to mention I still didn’t totally trust him. Only a fool would.
Hadriel hurried back down the path, scanning the docks again.
“Weston is here with a host of wolves…” He glanced around. “About this size. Good wolves, too. Strong and fast.” He smiled, his chest puffing out. “It’s a good turnout. They have a boat or ship or whatever docked, ready to take them, but it’s not huge. We’ll need to get our own.”
An incredible wave of relief washed through me. Worst case, we went through the portals. We’d have the numbers to clear the way.
“Good news, Hadriel—”
“Wait. Finley.”
I glanced over my shoulder, surprised to see Gunduin jogging down the docks behind us.
“Who is that guy?” Hadriel murmured.
“I didn’t know you’d come,” I told Gunduin. “I didn’t see you with the others from Micah’s village.”
Gunduin’s smile was sly. “You were too busy leading, I think. We fell to the back in case there were any stragglers.”
“We? Are Ami and Claudile here?” I asked. I would’ve thought they’d be happy to see the back of me.
“Of course! They wouldn’t miss a fight like this. Come, Finley. As I understand it, we don’t have any time to lose. I will be helping you procure a craft. It was felt that dragons should pay for the vessel, not…” He gave Govam some side-eye.
Govam took the cue and stepped back.
I didn’t care who was paying. Time was wasting. “Fine. Let’s go. I hear they don’t like dealing with dragons. Maybe Hadriel will need to do the talking.”
“We should’ve probably asked Weston for help,” Hadriel said as I slowed in approaching a ruddy-faced man with red cheeks and a bulbous, pockmarked nose. Wispy gray hair flew out from under his cap. His blue eyes narrowed when he saw me looking, and then his brows dipped when he caught sight of Gunduin.
“How do they know you’re even a dragon?” I asked, grimacing as another shock of pain roiled through me from Nyfain. He was still fighting, whatever he was doing. He was enduring Dolion’s treatment.
Not for long, I don’t think, my dragon thought. Something is worrying the dragon. Hurry!
I nodded, putting a little pep in my step.
“It’s the manic look in your eyes,” Hadriel responded. “You all have it.”
“We are typically larger in stature than other shifters,” Gunduin said. “More menacing. And more competent on the battlefield.”
“Arrogant, I think you meant to say. More arrogant,” Hadriel intoned.
Gunduin laughed. “Possibly so, yes. Or maybe it is because we are the favorite choice of their women…”
“Enough,” I said quietly, stopping in front of another couple of ruddy-faced men with a little less weight around their middles. One leaned his large, grizzled hand against a thick wooden pole keeping the docks in place. He didn’t bat an eye at us, unlike the two men beside him. I knew it wasn’t because he liked the look of us any more than they did, however. His bearing gave off a fuck off, or I’ll make an example of you vibe, backed by confidence and hard-earned experience. The body language of the others suggested they looked up to him. Which meant he probably had the best boat and most money of any of them.
“Sir, we’d like to hire a boat,” I said.
The man glanced at each of us in turn, settling on Hadriel for a moment. “What are you doing with a bunch of dragons?”
“Hating my life, mostly. Constantly looking over my shoulder…”
The man grunted out a laugh, and the other two chuckled.
“Sir, please, this is urgent,” I said, threading power into my voice.
He slowly turned back to me, his eyes narrowing. He pulled his hand off the pole and crossed his arms over his chest like the others.
“Are you trying to magic me, dragon?” he asked. The other two grumbled their outrage, moving their hands to their hips.
He said magic as if it had a couple additional consonants tacked on the end. Was he looking for a challenge or something?