White Stag (Permafrost #1)(43)
Wildly and half-blind, I groped the bone-littered ground for my bow and quiver, praying they had survived the fall. If these creatures wouldn’t let me out willingly, then I’d force them to. Gods damn the pain in my body, I’d had worse and survived. “Looking for this?” Donnar balanced the bow on his fingertip, twirling it like a baton.
I lurched forward, stumbling to the ground on deadened feet. “Give me that.” I scrambled to get up, only to realize my arms had gone numb.
Tibra flitted to stand beside him. “Aw, you hear that, she’s like a baby. Please can we keep her?”
“What did you do to me?” I panted, curled on my side. Icy coldness was spreading like liquid through my insides. It burned, it froze, and I wanted it out. I dug into the underside of my arms but nothing stopped the pain. Tears glistened in the corners of my eyes as the world spun around me. The coldness crushed the breath out of my chest. My mouth opened, but only a strangled cry came out. My senses turned upside down as I failed to push myself up and crawl away.
Claws clacked against the stone as Donnar came to stand beside me. He squatted down, clutching my chin. The claws on his knuckles brushed against my cheek, glistening with something dark and wet. “You’re so afraid,” he said, smiling. Rows upon rows of sharp, pointed teeth stared at me. “I’m not doing anything to you, dear child. Your body is finally catching up to your mind. Didn’t the young lord tell you that agonizing over your decision would drive you mad? It breaks you from the inside out. You survived the fall because like all things that end up here, you seek knowledge. Knowing has the power to kill.” He glanced at the bones scattered across the cave floor. “I don’t envy you.”
No. No. Let me leave. I don’t want to die. I don’t want to die! Each breath was a struggle, each conscious second ticking by a battle, but no matter how hard I fought, the darkness that crowded my vision pulled me deeper and deeper into its grasp.
Donnar smiled sadly at me. “I guess that is the nice thing about being undecided. You can choose between the blood of battle and the blood of birth, of good war and bad peace, of which arms you wish to push away and which arms you wish to hold you close. It’s a beautiful thing. A maddening thing.”
My eyelids drooped. His riddles turned my brain to mush and the cold darkness surrounding me whispered invitations in my ear.
“Make your choice wisely, little one.” I closed my eyes as Donnar’s dry lips pressed against my forehead.
* * *
THE SVARTELVES’ DARK CAVERN was gone. Bones of beings, both animal and human, immortal and mortal, littered the floor. I stepped carefully, waiting for my injuries to scream in pain, but they never did. No body lay on the ground, twisted with a broken neck and spine, face bloodied from my nails. My bow and quiver were pressed against my back in their familiar embrace.
I continued down the cavern, ducking under stones that pointed down from the ceiling, jumping over those that surged upward from the ground. Far ahead of me, the manic cackle of a goblin echoed off the cavern walls. I picked up my pace, careful not to make any noise as I followed the sound. The high-pitched shriek of a human child mingled with the manic laughter, and I broke into a run through the passageways.
I sprinted around the corner only to come to a stumbling halt as the scene unfolded in front of me. The small child raced around the rocks while the goblin guarded her like a sentry, fondness in his eyes, as she tried to climb the wall of the cavern. A rock came loose, and she shrieked as she fell, but the goblin’s arms were waiting to catch her. He said something to her in a language I didn’t know, but I picked up the worry in his tone. The girl crossed her arms, pouting, but relented to his demand. He set her down again, and they raced through the shadows.
Their silhouettes danced around me, laughing and hooting with glee. In between the flashes of their bodies, their features merged and changed at random. Sometimes the girl had blue eyes, sometimes brown. Sometimes the goblin’s hair was cropped short, sometimes it was down to his back. Both silhouettes stopped their dance and came to a halt in front of me. Their features changed so fast that they were both everyone and no one. Only one thing remained the same: One was goblin and the other was a human child.
The two forms melted away, and I stood alone in the darkness. “Donnar! Where are you? What are you doing to me?”
The only answer was the steady dripping of bloodwater. My fingers curled around my bow, tucking it under my arm as the passages twisted and turned. There had to be a way out or at least a skylight. “Donnar?”
In the distance a voice was chiding someone, but every time they spoke, the sound changed. An old woman, a young man, a toddler barely able to form words, all saying the same thing.
“You wouldn’t have to suffer if you just gave in.”
“Who’s there?” I called, rounding a corner so fast I nearly smacked into stone.
“I would suffer more if I just gave in.” This voice was spitting and spiteful, fueled with fire and fury. Underneath the fury was passion kindled by the flames. “You act like this is an easy choice for me.”
“That’s only because you think about it too much.” The voices might’ve been strangers, but the conversation was eerily like the one I’d had with Soren hours ago, and a small ball of nerves was hardening in my gut. “If you don’t tell the truth…”