Page 47 of Catastrophe

A man close to us with a chin dimple projected, “So many supernaturals look human. How would we know for certain that it was a human or supernatural before the dragon attacked and before we could attempt to stop it from harming a human?”

“We wouldn’t unless we planted bait.” The man next to him sat back in his chair. “Someone we knew was supernatural.”

“How would we manage that?” a woman from the table next to the men asked in a huff. “If the supernaturals bring the dragon back to life, I’m assuming he will kill them. We would need to have a human at the ceremony to test him, and if he kills the human, then we can’t trust him.”

“How would we get a human to infiltrate the supernaturals?” Chin-dimple rubbed at his chin thoughtfully.

“Perhaps it would be easier to do the opposite, to take a witch child and raise them as a hunter,” his friend replied again.

The story Fafnir was selling obviously intrigued these two, but I hoped the rest could see through this.

John Richards spoke up. “We’ve done projects like that in the past, and they haven’t benefited us.”

Mustache shouted again, standing and waving his wine glass around until red liquid splashed over the rim. “Another plan to work with our enemy? Am I the only one who remembers our duty?”

John Richards replied, “We’ve used supernaturals against each other in other projects. This is much the same. In fact, it is better. A dragon is a beast. It will only do as its nature dictates.”

Chin-dimple spoke to his friend, but the room could still hear, “We’ll need to do extensive research on dragons and the lore behind them. Perhaps question some of our oldest captives on the subject.”

“Do we really want a dragon to take all the joy of hunting from us?” Comb-over asked incredulously. “Do we not relish the chase? The hunt? Is that not what we are?”

A different, old, and wise voice rose among the noise. “We vowed to destroy the unnatural beings that plague our realm by whatever means necessary. With such a small organization, we are limited with our information and also our shared knowledge. Perhaps as the world opens up more with travel and communication, hunters across the world will be able to work together, but we cannot hypothesize on what may be. I believe we would be remiss not to use this information to our advantage.”

Comb-over stood and waved his hands wildly. “Exactly. This project is all ifs and buts. There is no other evidence. It’s a great idea but not feasible when there are other more realistic, more productive projects to fund. Let’s move on from this nonsense.”

Fafnir finally interrupted, his voice crackling over the microphone and making the room fall silent. “This project offers us a chance to use our imaginations, to challenge us in ways we have not yet been challenged, to come up with scenarios to ensure our success. I know it asks a lot, considering we have so little evidence; however, this has captured my mind, and I only wish to share that with my colleagues here in the guild. Look at us all, already talking about the problems, talking about the benefits and the excitement I feel … I haven’t had such a rush since the beginning of my career.”

With a wide smile, he continued, “This project will set the tone for future projects. It will dictate the inventions we need, the knowledge and research required, and push us into a new, more focused group. I think now, more than ever, having survived yet another war, it’s important for us to do something for our future and the future of our children. Many of us may not see the outcomes of our hard work, but I do not believe I need that gratification since the challenge and energy in the guild to continue our mission is what I am most eager for. Hunting is not chasing what is certain. It is chasing all the possibilities and finding joy in the smallest gut instinct being correct. Even if you chose not to fund this project tonight, I hope you’ll allow the dragon to fulfill his dark prophecy untouched. But I hope you pick this project and lead our people into a new era. Thank you.”

The silence wasn’t surprising. However, the number of nods in the crowd made my blood run cold. Fafnir was an excellent speaker, and he knew it. He always knew how to influence people.

Nisha looked at me, her face grim, and in the blink of an eye, we were back in her living room.

I gasped and cried, “Why did you bring us back? We need to know how it ends.”

She shook her head slowly. “You don’t. You already know. His project won. He is working with the hunters.”

He’s working with the hunters. The hunters captured everyone from the island … to feed to Fafnir?

My stomach dropped as I realized what it meant. “Zaide …”

“Is in great danger,” she whispered and grasped my hand. I didn’t realize it was shaking.

“What are we going to do? If the hunters and Fafnir are working together, as well as Elizabeth’s family, then we are in a lot more trouble than we first thought. What did they decide? What was their plan? Do they actually control Fafnir, or is that just what he wants them to think?” I blurted questions like I was vomiting them.

“Mr. Jensen put many plans in place before he suddenly died. They set up a base in his name in Sweden that primarily researched supernaturals, and while they waited and watched for the day of resurrection, they developed weapons. They improved their internal structures and experimented.”

“They let the witches do the ceremony. They were watching?”

She nodded. “And when they knew the dragon lived, they called in hunters from across the globe to inform them of their plans and the project selected all those years ago. They will prove the dragon is only a danger to supernaturals and work in harmony with him.”

I was scared to ask. “How?”

“A supernatural plant.”

They suggested as much at the meeting, but who did they use? “One of Elizabeth’s family? Are they going to use the witches? Is that Fafnir’s revenge on his children?”

“No. In fact, they’ve got one of their own. One that doesn’t know they are supernatural.”

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