Dragon Guard excerpt

I shifted my sword to my shield hand and took the binoculars from the man next to me. He was used to the sight of my weapons. He probably thought me an odd character for carrying them, but a Valkyrie never goes anywhere without her weapons.

I trained the binoculars on the mountains. Here, at what used to be a populated village in the southern area of Greenland, we stared at mountains. In particular, the ones where sleeping dragons had been discovered a little over twenty years ago.

Pulled through by the event that emptied the fae realm of its inhabitants, we were lucky the dragons landed here in the north, where the cold weather preserved their slumber. Lucky. Until the past several years when the globe began experiencing its hottest weather temperatures in recorded history. Now, we were on edge. I had stepped up our monitoring to watch for signs that our luck was running out.

“Has Alpha team reported in yet?” I asked, handing back the binoculars.

“They entered the compound ten minutes ago,” he replied. Joseph Aglakti—known by everyone as Aggie—served as my second-in-command. He was one of few islanders not evacuated, and extremely valuable as a leader.

“I want a debrief in ten minutes.” Last week I went to Toronto to help my boss in return for the favour he’d done for me by hiring extra security teams. I’d been on edge and felt that increasing security was wise, though I had no evidence it was needed. He didn’t hesitate. We went to Northern Europe, found Ronin Westergaard and his team, and hired them immediately. I couldn’t believe our luck. Until they arrived, and Westergaard insisted on using helicopters to monitor the dragons, despite every warning from me.

“It is family day, Jo.”

After the creatures from Faerie were pulled through, they started attacking the people on Greenland. Once the dragons were discovered, the entire island was evacuated. A small team of myself and a few others remained to monitor the dragons, for if they ever woke, more than just the island inhabitants would be at risk. If those dragons woke, they would raze the entire planet.

There were three dragons sleeping on the ice sheet: gold, emerald and sapphire. Covered in scales, their main bodies were easily the size of a Malibu mansion. From tip to tail, they were estimated to be a mile in length, though they were curled up in balls with their tails wrapped around them. And they had wings. We estimated the wingspans at a mile as well. There was no way to know their true size until they took flight, and no one wanted that.

Over the years, more had to be added to the monitoring team, but they all had to leave their families on the main land. My son Henrik was an exception. He didn’t have any other family. One other boy his age also lived on the island. A recent development, and not one I was happy about, but he was eighteen and his family insisted.

Family day occurred once a year when the spouses and children of the workers came to the island for a visit.

“Ten minutes,” I repeated. “Then I’ll see you at midnight for shift change.”

With a nod, he ran ahead to prep the team. I followed at a more leisurely pace.

Each team of the Dragon Guard consisted of both scientists and a security detail. At Westergaard’s insistence, they took twelve hour watches that included flying out in helicopters to monitor the temperatures of the ice sheet and sleeping dragons. Previously, we’d used our ground blind that was set up within view of the three dragons, but Westergaard didn’t like how far away the blind was from the village and how long it took to switch the teams.

Like most other buildings on the island, the HQ hut was made of wood and painted red in typical rustic Nordic design. It was the longest building in the village, having previously been used as a community hall. Inside, the walls were wood panelled and the building was heated by diesel-fed furnace and electric radiators. The centre of the building was occupied by several long tables end-to-end to make one big long table with benches and chairs down either side. The HQ hut also served as the compound’s banquet hall for those rare special occasions. Along the walls were desks with large monitors. The scientists worked here. The security personel worked out of the armoury.

Dr. Jespersen input data at his computer. The rest of the team sat at the table— except for the thorn in my side who lounged with his chair tipped back on two legs and his boots crossed on the table.

“Feet off the table, Mr. Westergaard,” I snapped. I set my sword and shield on the table and proceeded to where everyone gathered at the opposite end.

While the rest of the team snapped to attention, Ronin Westergaard dragged his boots off the wooden slab and returned the other two legs of his chair to the floor. Slowly. Methodically.

A few weeks ago, I’d had trouble sleeping. A nagging feeling kept growing inside me. Change was riding in on the warm southern winds— I could feel it. So I’d called my boss, Cole Harrowsmith, and told him I needed more security teams. He should have said no, since I had no more proof than a weird feeling, but he didn’t question it. We went to Europe and rounded up more security personel.

The moment Westergaard stepped onto the island, he took one look around at the group of fifty or so that lived here and said, “What a shitty little town.”

I hadn’t paid him much regard when we met in Europe. But now that he was on my island, he had my full attention. He was every romance-novel cliche come to life: tall, dark haired, handsome. Swoon-worthy, dark eyes. Scruffy beard. Broad shouldered. Narrow waisted. He wore a black leather jacket with black jeans and a black button-up shirt that was open at the collar.

He caught sight of Henrik and the other boy his age, and turned to me and said, “Are you nuts? You let children live here?”

He apparently had been listening during the briefing, especially to the part that mentioned dragons on the island. That was a plus, I supposed, but his attitude needed adjusting.

I stalked over to him and shook his hand. “Welcome to the island, Mr. Westergaard. Let’s get one thing clear: it may be a shitty little town, but it’s my shitty little town.” I released his hand and walked away, but ever since that moment, whenever I was within earshot, he made sure to loudly mention the weatherbeaten siding and peeling paint on the once vibrantly coloured houses or that something was defective or no longer working. The first time he eyed my choice of weapons, he laughed.

It was at his insistence that we start monitoring the dragons using helicopters instead of using the ground blind as we had been.

Cole had warned me that Westergaard had a problem with authority. He hadn’t mentioned the man was a complete idiot.

“Report.” I took the chair at the head of the table, brushing off the dirt left behind my Westergaard’s boots. [Describe those around the table?]

“Obviously, the dragons are still asleep, otherwise we wouldn’t be having this meeting that could have been an email, because we’d be in combat with the dragons.” Westergaard said. The security personel chuckled.

I glared at him, not caring if he felt this was a waste of time. “Dr. Jespersen, breathing rate and ice recession report.”

“H-Holding steady, ma’am,” he said nervously. He wore a lab coat and dark rimmed glasses. His straight brown hair fell into his eyes. He had a nervous habit of tipping his head to the side to shake the hair out of the way.

I sighed inwardly and painted on a smile. He was new to the team, and apparently, I scared the crap out of him, according to Aggie.

“Very good, Dr. Jespersen. Holding steady is good,” I said sweetly.

“Y-yes, ma’am.”

“Please don’t call me ‘ma’am.’ Call me Jo.”

“Y-yes, J-Jo.” He nodded, wringing his hands. His report was over. He should have been visibly relieved.

“Is there something else, Dr. Jespersen?” I asked gently. Could be he needed to ask for time off, although I would have expected that if we were alone and not in a debriefing.

“It—It may be nothing, and—and we weren’t asked for a measurement—only—only I thought it might be use-useful.”

“You noticed something.”

“Y-Yes.” He turned and pointed at the screen. “The dragon on the south ridge, which we’ve designated as SD1, has an internal body temperature that is half a degree higher than it was yesterday.”

On screen my eyes followed a chart with a steady line that ticked up the end. “You’ve been tracking internal temperature since your arrival last week.”

“Y-Yes.” He gulped. Audibly.

“Good. This is important information, yes?”

“Y-Yes. Most species experience a rise in body temperature before waking.”

I smiled despite the ping of worry in my gut. “Very good. Keep tracking it. Tell the Beta team to as well. And Dr. Jespersen?”

“Y-Yes, ma—Jo?”

“If you think of other things we should be monitoring, please let me know.” I sugared my voice so he would stop being scared of me, but inside I was fighting a growing sense of worry. I hoped it didn’t turn my sweet smile into a scary smile. I genuinely appreciated his work but I hated having to step on eggshells around him.

And there was something else…

The internal temperature change of the dragon was an issue that I would have to report to government authorities, but there was something more…

Goosebumps broke out on my arms in the same moment that my ears picked up a blood-curdling scream.

“Act-Actually, I do have some ideas—“ Jespersen started.

No one else in the room heard the scream, and there wasn’t time to fill them in. I turned and ran for my sword and shield, scooped them up and raced out the door. Dr. Jespersen would have to wait. Something was very, very wrong in my village.