White Stag (Permafrost #1)(66)

Soren frowned, then slowly smiled. The points of his canines gleamed in the cold sun. “Because you’re the tiny dog.”

“The tiny dog?” I asked as the last waves of laughter left my body.

“I said Seppo and you fought like a dog and a tinier dog, and the tinier dog was winning. You’re the tiny dog. You’re the most vulnerable of us, but it doesn’t stop you. You could break your arm in three different places, have an eye gouged out and an arrow through your back, and you’d still keep fighting. You’re the tiny dog.”

Seppo snorted. “Tiny dog, not-so-tiny teeth.”

The chorus of wolves began again as the sun was sinking in the sky. My body was strangely light, as if all the laughter was weight I’d carried on my shoulders. But the threat of death out here was looming as the sky turned to crimson. Even if Lydian did kill the monster preying on the wolves, the wolves themselves … I froze in place and Seppo smacked into me.

“Ouch!” He held his nose. “What’s the big idea?”

“The wolves,” I said. “Skadi’s wolves.”

“What about them?”

“We can ride them,” I said. “It’s possible. The Valkyries did it. They can get us out of here.” Like lightning, another idea struck me. “If the monster Lydian killed isn’t the one who preyed on her wolf pack, we could strike a bargain. She could tell us what she told Lydian and lend us wolves to ride in exchange for us killing the monster.”

“Unless she kills us for being associated with Lydian in the first place,” Seppo said. When I glared, he clarified. “I’m associated with Lydian because I was his ally, you are because you’re my allies.”

Soren gave us a withering look. “Skadi is fair. Even if Seppo is with us, we might be able to strike a deal. If it means figuring out what Lydian is planning, then I would rather fight what’s out there than go in blind. We handled the lindworms; we can handle this. Besides, those wolves are ungodly fast.”

I looked up at the snowy peak before us. The rocks poked through the snow as the slope got less and less prominent. Soon, we’d be at the top. I sucked in a breath of air, knowing the elevation was taking a toll on my lungs more than on the others’. We had to find a way. This idea, it had to work.

“We’ll summon her,” I said, my breath turning to ice in the air before me. “We’ll summon the Mother of Wolves.”





16


MOTHER OF WOLVES


BEFORE WE SUMMONED the Mother of Wolves, we had to lug ourselves another twenty meters up the mountain. For once, I took the lead as the blinding wind whipped my hair against my face.

“You should’ve let me braid it,” Soren said after my hair got in his face for the ninth time.

“In what downtime did you ask to braid my hair?” I tried to stick it back underneath my hood but strands kept escaping, and I finally gave up.

“Well, I tried while you were unconscious after your swim, but you hit me. Hard. I have a bruise.”

“I told him not to do it,” Seppo said. “I told him that trying to braid the hair of a person undergoing a chemical psychotic spell wasn’t a good idea. Did he listen? No.”

I smirked. “Where did I bruise him?”

“Nowhere important.” Soren was trying hard to keep his voice light. A little too hard.

“Oh, it’s important all right,” Seppo said. I tuned out as the two men began to bicker over what happened when I was unconscious. I was a little disappointed that I missed my own show.

I spat out a strand of hair. Maybe I should cut it if I live after this.

If I lived after this and stopped Lydian from carrying out whatever scheme he had up his sleeve. If I lived through seeking the help of a giantess god and whatever task she would request from me. Gods above, if someone told me a few years ago I’d be in this situation, I would’ve laughed. And maybe hit them.

I walked to the flat bed of rocks and dusty snow that was the peak of the mountains. The crisp air stung my ears and eyes, freezing the moisture inside my nose. The temperature dropped rapidly as I made my way to the center of the peak. Soren and Seppo lingered back near the edge. I turned toward them, eyebrows raised.

“Problem?”

“I’d rather not be in blasting range of the goddess I might’ve unintentionally scorned a few days ago,” Seppo deadpanned.

“Soren?”

He looked away. “Skadi doesn’t like me very much.”

“Why?”

There was a slight rosy tint to his pale face. “I would rather not specify.”

I sighed. I probably didn’t want to know anyway. “Fine, I’ll do it.”

I forced myself to sit on the freezing stones. Crossing my legs, I brought out the stiletto Seppo’d given me when we fought the dragons. It was an old weapon. The bronze twisted in the shape of a snake eating its own tail on the hilt, and the blade was the green of a serpent with a line of silver-blue in the middle. Someone had blessed this weapon; the power in it said that much.

For now, all that mattered was the sacrifice. I bared my right arm and let the sharp edge of the stiletto run across the underside. A thick band of blood rose to the surface, and I angled my arm so the blood would drip onto the ground.

I closed my eyes and chanted, “Wake, Skadi, Mother of the Mountain. Wake, Skadi, Mother of Wolves. Wake, Skadi, the Huntress, the Avenger, the Mother of the Wilderness. I call to thee. Wake, Skadi!”