The giant beneath the mountain has awakened after three centuries' slumber and devours some of my fathers' best men every morning. He will continue taking lives, one for every giant our ancient ruler killed to steal his land. But I know this ice gia...
"What's wrong with him?" Quinn swivels around as the Masked Men's roars rumble over the ice, her plaits plastered to her neck.
Fell's entire body has taken on the hue of the Northern Lights, a string of power and pulsating threads of rainbow-colored thread flowing throughout his body, illuminating his skin from within. A flash of blinding light that even, for a moment, overtakes the unnatural emerald hues of the torches of the Masked Men.
When we reopen our eyes, the frost giant is gone. Replaced by a boy with rose quartz eyes and a lanky, lean stature. His hands ball up into fists, his jaw grit tight.
Quinn looks first at me, then at the human Fell, then back at me.
After another moment's hesitation, she shrugs, and tosses Fell a shorter blade tucked into her belt. "Whatever this situation is, by the gods' teeth, I hope you can fight."
Fell takes the blade and it shines with that same pulsating energy that cursed him. The blade combats the jade hues coming towards us upon the ice, creeping and slithering over the desolate landscape to seep into our skin. The blade, if one didn't know better, looks to be aflame with magic, like the seiðmenn of legend, who carried the gods' light in mortal flesh.
One legend for another. Just my luck.
Fell reaches for my hand, his fingers interlacing with my own. When he does, I can't help but yelp as the lights shimmer downwards and dance along my fingertips. As the colorful threads grow brighter and travel upwards along my spine, I feel my aches and pains from travel just melt away. My eyesight sharpens so I can see the Masked Men's skiffs even as far as they are on the horizon, make out the furs on their body. The bloodthirst in their eyes.
I take Zoya's dagger and hold it tight, the blade turned downwards. Ready.
It's not shocking that the Knarr folk called them myrkálfar, or the bloodless ones that live within the bowels of the earth. Their masks are fashioned out of animal hide with holes where their mouths and eyes are, making it look like they have animal skins melded over their human bodies. They wield axes, mainly, and start banging on doors within the village.
"Evenire!" They cry, their fists slamming into the wood of the squat, ash-covered homes. "Get out where we can see you. The head count's here. Nobody better be missing."
Lord Kazmer has his scimitar at his side, waiting, his arm brandishing the weapon like an extension of himself.
"Hey, Hrafnasueltir!" Quinn bangs her axe against the wood of her shield. The sound seems to descend towards the Masked Men. Their heads swivel like dogs to listen to it. "Why don't you stop bothering the good folk of Knarr? Fight a real soldier!"
The Masked Men laugh, reaching for the bags at their waists. Instead of weapons, they pull jars from their pouches, clear baubles filled with thick smoke. They throw these and Quinn throws her shield up...
When the baubles break on the ice in front of us, the world erupts into bright, emerald flames. I nearly fall from shock but Fell helps me balance myself.
"Ghoul fire." Quinn hisses, staring as the green flame sputters and licks greedily at the frozen air. "Maybe they really are kobolds."
"Who's the Hrafnasueltir, now, woman?" The men laugh. "Let us count heads as we normally do, or your heads will roll."
"Come here yourself and do it then!" I shout.
Leif swivels around to glare at me, "what are you...?"
"Go on!" I scream even louder until my throat is raw. "Or are you so afraid of a woman that you won't dare to cross the ice? Or maybe you just let your fire talk for you like little children playing with their toys!"
The air goes eerily still as the Masked Men murmur amongst each other.
"Cassia..." Leif murmurs, nervous now.
"Just hold a moment, Lord Kazmer." I nod, licking my lips and tasting the remnants of salt from the meal the Knarr folk had given us. "Just wait and see."
Another moment passes.
And another.
Then, all at once, they move towards us, their footsteps crunching into the snow like bone. Their eyes, I see the hate within them with Fell's magic flowing through me, the galdrar.
"Get ready." I tell them. "The real fight begins."
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
We love a clever queen!
Don't forget to like, comment, follow, the works to enter Valhalla. (Just kidding, but t'would be nice though...)
