Page 107 of Dream Reaper

“Wait, wait!” Roar interrupted, lifting his hand. “He ate them?”

Ava and the others shifted and exchanged looks, some of the older girls smothering their smiles with their hands. This ballad of Finnr’s wasn’t exactly rated for children, with the dark magic and the—Ava cast a glance at Roar’s mother—the bride eating. Even her skin crawled at the thought.

“Aye, lad,” Finnr whispered, laying a hand on his shoulder. “Things born in darkness seek the darkness.”

“Wow! How many does he eat?” the lad asked eagerly, and his mother shot him a foul look he didn’t seem to notice.

“Shall I finish the song,” Finnr demanded in mock outrage, “or would you prefer me to just tell you?”

“Finish the song!” the girls chorused, and Roar nodded his agreement.

At last, there came a shepherd’s child

With ashwood in her hand.

She did not weep nor pale with dread

Before the scale-crowned command.

She bade him shed each shining skin

As serpents do in spring,

And for each hide that split and fell,

She let the lamb-ward swing.

Now the girls grinned, and Roar swung an imaginary staff as if he were the one striking the blows.

He roared, he thrashed, he split the stone,

He cursed her mortal breath⁠—

But she did not drop her ash-rod staff

Though she faced the door of death.

Nine times he shed his winding hide,

Nine skins upon the floor⁠—

The fallen mail from a battle-wyrm

As none had seen before.

No scale remained, no serpent’s tail,

No venom in his vein⁠—

Only a prince with human eyes

And the memory of his pain.

Sighs rippled around the room, most of them disappointed. But Finnr wasn’t done yet, his eyes twinkling as he parted his lips to sing the final stanzas of his ballad.

But sometimes when the moon was thin

And frost crept through the beams,