White Stag (Permafrost #1)(30)

“Go!” he yelled, as he climbed onto his horse and kicked it forward.

“What is it?” I asked.

An odd sucking sound emitted from the ground below us as sulfurous clouds blotted out my vision. Panic whinnied in alarm as I urged him toward Soren and Elvira’s distancing figures. Rekke raced next to me, her small, lithe body crouched forward on her stallion. She urged him ahead with a hushed voice, but I could hear her panic breaking free. The sucking sound grew louder and louder, catching up to us, and I looked back in horror to see the ground collapsing behind us and dropping away into a never-ending abyss.

Yellow gas spewed from bubbles in the bog mud, emitting a toxic odor that had me swaying in my saddle. I gripped the reins harder, wrapping them around one of my hands. “Go, Panic! Go!”

Panic charged ahead, leaving Rekke in the dust. The tremors from the sinking ground boomed like thunder, and the rising mist burned my skin like acid. I screamed as the skin on my arms burned and blistered, as my vision turned black and I swayed in my saddle. Soren looked behind him, eyes wide as they locked onto mine.

My arm throbbed, the bright red skin burning, swelling, as bulbous blisters spread across its length. I gritted my teeth in pain as they burst and sickly yellow pus spilled down my arm. The air around me was filled with yellow, choking gas, and the sucking sound was getting louder, approaching us with blinding speed.

I spurred Panic onward, shouting encouragement. The pounding of his hooves was loud as crackling lightning, crashing like thunder while he raced against the crumbling ground. His breath wheezed in my ear as he pushed himself forward. Soon we were neck and neck with Elvira and her giant snow cat. Soren raced ahead of us, Terror heaving with each and every breath.

From beside me Elvira’s snow cat snapped at Panic, and the horse bucked up in fright. I held on, grateful my arm was wrapped in the reins, and urged Panic to move again as he regained his footing.

“Control your animal!” I shouted to Elvira, barely able to hear my own voice above the sound of the sinking ground.

Elvira snarled at me, baring her teeth. Then she rammed her cat into the legs of my horse. Panic stumbled, fighting hard to keep his instincts under control. His thoughts echoed in my ears: This cat would kill him. This cat would eat him. It was a predator and he was its prey. The horse’s wild heartbeat raced as he realized death was not just behind him, but around him too.

The glint of metal caught my eye as a short sword swung toward me. Almost automatically, I had my axe out and caught the edge of the blade against the wood. The maddening gleam in Elvira’s eyes grew brighter as she hissed and brought her sword down again. I veered Panic away, getting dangerously close to the sucking mud.

She’s trying to kill me. Despite the thought, I was strangely calm. So what if she was? This was the Hunt. I heaved my axe into the air and swerved closer to her snow cat, bringing the blade down on her animal’s haunches. It shrieked in pain as it stumbled and gave me the opening I needed. Urging Panic forward, I rode ahead into the mist.



* * *



BY THE TIME we had escaped the Fire Bog, the agonizing blisters on my arm were dripping pus, the reddened skin flaking off to expose soft, sensitive flesh underneath. I clenched my jaw as even the slightest brush of air sent a wave of pain so terrible it was as if I’d stuck my arm in an inferno. Behind me, Elvira’s glare burned a hole in the back of my neck, and her snow cat growled in pain.

The silver trail of the stag was gone, but if I closed my eyes, I could hear the animal’s heartbeat thrumming in my ears. Somewhere deep in my core, power resonated; the prey line had to be close. Darkness was falling swiftly, though, and we needed to set up camp and do something about our injuries. The stag could wait. It had to.

Soren stopped by a small half-frozen stream. The water was running at a slow enough pace that it wouldn’t bother the goblins. I shifted in the saddle and lowered myself to the ground, cringing as sharp pain shot up my arms. The magic of the Permafrost would heal the goblins by the end of the night, but as I was still a human, the painful burns would heal naturally or not at all.

Doubt formed a pit in my stomach. I could barely manage the pain while riding. Even now, my flesh burned like it was melting off the bone. When the time came to shoot an arrow or wield my axe, I would barely be able to stand it.

I needed to survive. I had to survive.

Even if I survived the Hunt, even if I escaped, I had nowhere to go. The scene from this morning played through my head again as my heart crashed in my chest. The humans didn’t accept me; I tried to run and I failed. I couldn’t even convince other humans that I was on their side.

There’s something wrong with you. You’re not natural. I cringed. You don’t want to die. The thought was like a punch knocking the breath out of me. No. I didn’t want to die. There was a gnawing feeling in the pit of my stomach growing ever stronger. I didn’t want to die—I wanted to live. To run, be free, feel the wind in my hair, the exhilaration of the Hunt, and the adrenaline coursing through my veins. Maybe I didn’t know exactly why I wanted to live or what my place in this world would be, but I knew I needed to live as much as the trees needed sun and the earth needed rain.

But I don’t want to be goblin. And if I didn’t become goblin—if I didn’t accept the cruel ways of this world—then death would be lurking around every corner. Unless I found a way in between.

The resolve that was as strong as steel right before the Hunt—that I would escape and forbid myself from growing close to my enemies, becoming them—was cracking. If I let down my guard, the memory of Soren’s hand stroking my shoulder and the warmth of his body lulled me into relaxation. The memories of conversations we’d had made my chest fill with laughter. If I tried to reason with myself, all I could think of was the instinct that kept me alive when the men attacked—if death truly was something I’d prefer to living in the Permafrost, then I would’ve taken it when it was offered to me. Soren’s words about monsters bounced around in my head, stinging like hornets because I knew they were true. Despite what I grew up believing, despite what my father taught me, despite the rigid rules by which I had been raised, telling me anything so unnatural was wrong.