White Stag (Permafrost #1)(65)



He caught me glaring and smirked. “You’re cute when you’re jealous.”

“Go eat your young.”

Seppo snickered. “Any young of his are coming from you.”

I made a scene of looking down the sheer cliffs to the blackened, icy forest below. “Do you have a death wish? Because I will push you off the mountain.”

The snickering stopped at once. “I believe you.”

Soren rolled his eyes. “You two, seriously? It’s like a dog bickering with a much tinier dog, and the tinier dog is winning.” He shielded his face from the sun, looking high for a path to lead us out.

“Your analogy skills need work.” Mountains spread as far as the eye could see; some were just dots on the horizon and others were huge behemoths in our path. The pathway Soren chose soon faded into the rocky randomness of the wilderness. We’d have to climb and lug our way out of the mountain range. It could take days, maybe weeks. We had no food, no water, worn-out clothing, and the weapons on our backs. By the time we got to the ground, Lydian might’ve already won. He wants to use Soren, but he doesn’t need him. Soren met my eyes and offered me a small smile, and his gaze burned with the warmth I was coming to know.

I narrowed my eyes at the ground, hoping to see the silver line the stag left behind. There was nothing. Just ice and dust and snow.

“We’re never going to get out of here in time.” I finally spoke the words everyone was afraid to say aloud. “We’ll die out here, if not from hypothermia, then starvation or dehydration.” The artic wind howled as if it was agreeing with me. The tips of my eyelashes were dusted with frost, and despite the leather gloves on my hands, I barely felt my fingers.

“We need horses or something to ride,” Soren said. “That’s the only way.”

I looked at Seppo. “I don’t suppose you have three horses up your sleeve, do you?”

He shook his head. “Afraid not.”

The howling of wolves echoed in the crystal-cold air. I pulled my half cloak around me. From the corner of my eye, I saw Seppo shiver. If I weren’t freezing myself, I could almost pity him. Out of the three of us, Soren was the only one whose body was made for this weather. But even a full-blooded goblin born and raised in the Higher North would freeze eventually.

“Well, then,” Soren said, his breath turning to frost. “We’d best keep going. We’re not going to achieve anything by standing here.”

“We’re not going to get anywhere fast, but better to move, I guess.” Doubt wasn’t the only thing gnawing my hollow stomach. I was sure Soren could hear the growling. The effects of the nectar were now almost gone, and every muscle in my body screamed with fatigue.

Hopelessly lost in the mountain range, banged and beaten from our time in the caverns, I wouldn’t be surprised if an animal tried to pick us off. We were sitting ducks for any goblins in the range too. Every once in a while we came across a frozen body, and each time it reminded me that the longer we were out here, the more likely we would be killed. There was no fast escape and no place to hide if an attack came.

The mournful howls of wolves filled the nighttime air with song. It was almost as if we spoke the same language. Their song was of loss and grief, pain and fear, tiredness and the ache for revenge.

Skadi. They killed your family too. The Aesir thought they were better because they were gods and you a giant and they sought to tame you with a man you could never love. But you went and took your revenge. You rule these wilds. You rule all of us. When I was a child, I prayed to her almost constantly, hoping she could help me discover my destiny. Going to the Permafrost stopped that. I’d never been closer to the gods or farther away.

The wolves sung so mournfully, as if they were still grieving their lost brothers and sisters. An uneasy thought struck me. “Seppo, are you sure Lydian killed whatever was preying on the wolves?”

“Well,” Seppo said, “considering that he brought back the head of a troll, I would hope so.”

“You hope so. There could be a potentially dangerous monster lurking in the Permafrost that even an ascended giantess can’t kill?”

He worried at his lip. “Well, when you put it that way…”

Something inside me broke, and I started to giggle. It was quiet at first, then grew louder and louder until my sides were heaving in pain from laughter. I doubled over, hitting my knee with my fist. Tears were in my eyes.

Seppo eyed me like I’d gone mad. “Why is she laughing?”

Soren’s eyebrows furrowed. “I … don’t know. Do you think she’s still sick?”

“You—” I choked down another wave of laughter. “We’ve— Since we went to the Erlking’s palace, I was almost killed by Lydian for the second time, got into a fight inside the palace, threw a man over a ledge, killed a goblin at point-blank range, pounded Helka’s corpse into pulp, almost burned my arms off in the Fire Bog, fought and fell off a gods-forsaken mountain, had a shitty dream quest with a svartelf, kissed you, killed a fucking dragon, held my breath for six minutes inside a whirlpool in order to sing a song to a senile n?kken who almost drowned me so I could save your life, found out Lydian might end up destroying the world, and now we might be facing a mystery monster if the thrice-damned wolves don’t get us first!” I started coughing. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d laughed this hard. “How in Hel’s gate am I still standing?”

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