Page 132 of Wanted: Rogues and Bards

No, they needed to talk it out. He needed to know where he stood with Lirion before they got back to Björnkill, if only for his own sanity.

He felt a sudden boost, with a surge of more stamina, and smiled to himself. Lirion had cast his support magic once more. So sexy of the man to think ahead.

Now, could he get Lirion to cast something similar right before they tumbled into bed? Oh, the things Fenric could do if he had the stamina to go all night. Maybe he should try bringing that up later.

Oh, what was this? That looked very solid and structure-y. Was that the dam?

Belstrom gave a tap on the top of his head and yelled, “Dam ahead!”

Excellent, it was. He could swing in that direction and drop Belstrom off. He wanted some distance between himself and Belstrom’s hammer. He did not want to be close enough to risk friendly fire.

Fenric slowed to drop off Belstrom, who swam the last two feet and climbed on top of the dam. His passenger was in the right place, and from the loud banging already in progress, Fenric was sure he was already taking whacks at the dam. It was going to be kindling in a matter of minutes; those logs stood no chance.

Fenric whooshed around in his sleek shark body to see how Rain wanted to split up the duty of protecting Belstrom’s—whoa!

The attack came out of nowhere.

A pod of green-skinned finfolk with webbed hands and feet sped through the murky water, rushing to them in barely more than a blink of an eye. They were armed with long spears and jagged swords that looked as if they’d been carved from whale bones. From their vicious, teeth-filled mouths came ear-piercing screams that left Fenric wishing he still had hands so he could cover his tiny shark ear holes.

Fenric barely got himself oriented enough to dodge the first attack and caught a spear with his teeth, yanking his attacker forward enough to chomp.

Their screeching language was brutal, threatening to pierce his skull, but it was the spears and swords slicing through the water that had him worried. He was lightning fast in the water, dodging here and there, but there were so damn many of them.

The tiny claws of their webbed feet and hands raked along his body, sending sharp needles of pain screaming through him as he raced away and back again. When he couldn’t chomp them with his teeth, he was forced to use his superior size and girth to slam into them, knocking them away from Rain.

The merman pirate moved with grace and speed in the water, swinging his sword and shouting curses that would have made most men blush. He was skilled and deadly, but they were just too outnumbered. All too quickly, Rain was surrounded. A slash to his upper arm had Rain shouting in pain just before he lopped off the offender’s head.

Fenric barreled into them again as he managed to shake off one who’d latched on to his tail.

Yet as soon as he got Rain free, he caught sight of another finfolk drawing close to the dam where Belstrom was still hammering on the blockage. Swearing to himself, Fenric raced forward and clamped down on the leg of the finfolk, dragging him back to the depths. Blood gushed into his mouth and the water did nothing to dilute the taste.

Ugh, he hated this fishy blood in his mouth.

Loot and sex, loot and sex, don’t focus on the taste of iron.

This was a horrible plan. Why the hell was it taking Belstrom so long?

Dammit, he really hated fighting underwater!

They better not die. He had things he needed to say to Lir.

Lirion had used a strip of cloth to fashion a sling around his neck for the hand drum, keeping the rhythm up with his right hand to keep the spell active. He kept the spyglass pressed to his left eye, trying to track the water group. Maxie was at his side, following the group protecting the villagers. They stood side by side on top of the mansion’s battlements, the best vantage point for this.

Although he couldn’t see much at all. The water obscured almost everything. To make matters worse, the sun was annoyingly bright and cheerful overhead, casting all these useless sparkles on water growing choppier by the second. Couldn’t they have had a nice overcast, calm day to allow him to more easily see below the water’s surface? Where was a fog wall when you needed it?

The only one who seemed to benefit from the sunny day was Belstrom as he worked swiftly without interference from the weather.

“Bel’s taking that dam out in chunks,” he relayed to Maxie with an admiring whistle. “Those muscles are not just for show.”

“Isn’t he amazingly strong? He threw me up in the air once, and I felt like I was flying. Oh, oh, Lir! The finfolk are fighting Malfas right now.”

“Well, shit.” Lirion turned his spyglass toward that fight to get his own visual on it.

Malfas was fighting hard at the edge of the village where the water lapped at the dry land, his club whirling with speed in his hands, and he was sending attackers left and right, some of them not rising again. Between bashes with the club, he tossed out explosive spells, lighting up the already bright day in strange colors and sending the finfolk screaming back into the relative safety of the water.

Hapi was right behind him, directing his skelebabies in the fight while also using some judicious necrotic spell work to raise the dead finfolk as zombies to fight once more. Every once in a while he would slash out with a long, slender black sword, using a kind of ethereal grace only the elves possessed. A lethal combination over there.

“Let me know if they get overwhelmed,” Lirion requested of Maxie and went back to watching the water battle.