Warrior of the Wild(30)

Soren shucks off his armor, and I realize that we’ve no hope of swimming while weighed down so heavily.

“He can’t swim,” Soren says.

“What?” I say incredulously, pulling off my second boot.

Soren doesn’t answer; he drops the last of his armor to the ground and dives in after his friend.

When I finally get the rest of the metal off my body, I join him.

I can’t manage a graceful dive like Soren did, so I leap feetfirst, taking a large gulp of air. A cool wind rushes past me before cold water engulfs me. It’s not unbearable—we’re in the summer months, and after a few seconds, my body adjusts.

The water is murky. I think it might be clearer if there weren’t a disturbance on the bottom of the lake, churning up mud and plants. It’s impossible to see much, but I swim down, because I know the solid body of the gunda would have sunk.

I see dark shapes mostly. The large solid figure that looks like a log must be the gunda, and something much bigger swims around it, as though waiting to pounce. I see a flash of white. Teeth.

That has me kicking backward until, there—

Two figures that look like they’re wrestling in the water.

I swim for them, arcing my body down, fighting against the air in my lungs that tries to drag me up toward the surface. Bubbles float out of my mouth as I try to make myself less buoyant.

But after a few more feet, something changes, and I have no trouble reaching the lake’s bottom. The weight of all the water above me is enough to keep me from floating back up, I realize.

I reach the boys. The tongue, I see, has already been discarded. Soren tries to pry the armor from the folds in Iric’s clothing.

I swim toward Iric’s legs to unbuckle his boots and slide out the armor covering his shins, while Soren works at the metal around Iric’s forearms. It’s difficult forcing metal to move across wet leather. My throat already burns. Though I know how to swim, I don’t spend much time underwater. I’ve not practiced holding my breath for long periods of time.

And Iric, who’s never even learned to swim—I can only imagine how he must be faring.

A force of water rushes past me, sending me spinning in a full circle before I can right myself. A shot of ice runs down my spine as I realize it’s from whatever lives in the water swimming past me. Just how big is it?

Soren reorients himself and swims back for Iric. I join him, despite my lungs begging me to go up for air.

We finally get everything undone. The two of us working together, Soren and I kick Iric to the surface. I’m breathing deeply, appreciating the feel of air in my lungs more than I ever have before.

Iric is coughing, clawing at Soren and me, panicking. He’s trying to climb atop the two of us, and he pushes me under the water more than once.

Finally, Soren slaps him, which seems to calm Iric some.

We’re so very close to shore when I feel something rough brush against my leg. I kick at it, using it to push me forward to a section of lake where I can actually touch the bottom.

I turn around, and that’s when I see it.

The monster in the lake.

Toward the surface, where the water is much clearer, I see its profile. It’s long and slender with bumpy, dark green skin. A long snout the length of my arm sports an army of teeth overlapping its lips. It dives down, maw gaping wide, presumably to take another bite out of the gunda.

I lose my footing, scramble on hands and knees to reach dry ground. As Iric finally finds his own feet, he races ahead of the two of us before collapsing far away from the water’s edge. He falls onto his back, staring up at the sky, reassuring himself he’s not trapped below water.

Soren bends in half to rest his hands on his knees. He lets out a warrior’s victory cry. Now that the danger is past, the thrill of defeating the gunda burns through me, too, and I throw my fist in the air and let my voice call out toward the heavens.

But then we both notice Iric. His breaths come fast, too fast, and I think he might be having some sort of fit.

Soren drops down to Iric’s side and awkwardly pats his shoulder. “It’s all right. You’re safe.”

“Did you see it?” Iric asks between quick breaths. “The hyggja?”

Soren sits back, resting his arms atop his knees. “Only its shadow.”

“The monster in the lake?” I ask. “I saw it.” A shudder goes through me.

Both boys turn toward me.

“Yes, the monster in the lake,” Iric says. “The beast I have to kill if I’m to return home. If I ever want to see Aros again.”

His mattugr. He fears the water. He can’t swim, and his village sent him to kill the water beast—the hyggja.

He’s still breathing too rapidly. Iric seems trapped in his own mind, replaying horrors. His eyes flit across the sky wildly.

“Who’s Aros?” I ask, hoping to distract him.

Iric turns. Blinks. “The man I love.” His eyes stare to the right of me, as if he can’t quite focus.

“When I have bad days,” I say, “I think of my sister, whom I love more than anything. Think of Aros now. Focus on him, and if it helps, you can tell me about him.”

I don’t think he’ll do it. He’s shaking badly, and his breaths aren’t slowing. But he grits his teeth, forces himself to take a deep breath.

“He’s short,” Iric says after a minute. “Shorter than even Soren. Dark hair. Strong hands. He’s a hunter.”