White Stag (Permafrost #1)(70)
The wail of the draugr shattered the bones around him. With that, the fight began.
Soren came at the monster first, his two blades intertwining and slashing. He fought like he was dancing with the blades as his partner. His body twisted and curled inward, dove close to the ground and then sprang high into the air. Red welts appeared on the draugr’s body, deep in one of his arms. Lykka growled as Soren landed beside her and launched herself into the air, her teeth digging deep into the creature’s arm. Breki came beside her, and together, they managed to rip off his hand.
Seppo and Hreppir danced around the creature’s legs with timed strikes and skilled evasions. Pale blood rained down onto them, burning their skin like acid, but they continued to swerve and tumble unaffected.
As for me, I waited low to the ground, shooting an arrow at an elbow, then another, watching them sink deep into the flesh. The monster screamed and ripped the weapons out, crushing them in his hands. But it was too late; his joints were broken, and all they needed was a good clean cut.
I sprang up and scurried onto a boulder as tall as me, unwilling to fight at such a large distance. If Seppo and Soren risked their lives by fighting close up, so could I. The stiletto in my hand, I joined Soren as he waltzed around the draugr. The piercing coldness of his swords lingered on my skin as we fought together. A slash here, a stab there. Before he danced with his weapons; now he danced with me. Our moves were in sync, our attacks countered what the other’s lacked, and our defenses shielded what the other’s left open. A fire was alight in my chest, and exhilaration coursed like a drug inside me.
A howl of pain brought me back down to the real world, as the draugr grasped Hreppir in his fist and squeezed. Immediately Seppo lunged, the hand completely severed before the monster even knew what hit him. The small, bracken-colored wolf breathed heavily, his tongue lolling out on the side. My heart froze in my throat as I waited what felt like an eternity until the wolf rose, shaking off his pain.
With his other arm, the draugr smashed Seppo against the rocks, and he fell limply to the ground. The slight rise and fall of his chest proved he was still alive, and the two elder wolves wasted no time in tearing into the draugr’s remaining arm. It writhed like a swarm of maggots even as it was disembodied.
The grayish skin of the draugr bubbled and shifted, until sticklike limbs sprouted from his legs, reaching with talons toward Soren and me. We exchanged a glance and dove in, dodging pairs of arms and hacking off others. The hot wetness seeping from my back, my shoulder, my leg were the only indicators that I was harmed. Everything else was a rush of fire and ice and an almost painful ecstasy as I fought the creature. The blackish-red blood of goblins pooled by my feet, and I was alarmed to see Soren hadn’t been spared from the talons either. Cuts littered his face and tore through his tunic. But even with blood in his hair and soaking his clothes, he fought with the strength of a thousand men.
And finally, the draugr toppled down, the body whole no more.
Soren pulled himself against a boulder, ripping off a piece of his tunic, and started seeing to his wounds. I raced forward until I was at Seppo’s limp body, my ear placed against his chest. His breath was weak, but it was there, and his heart kept on beating.
“Help me with him!” I screamed, and the three wolves braced his body between them. Soren, the bleeding of the gashes in his arms slowing, pulled Seppo’s body under the protection of the boulder.
The young halfling’s eyelids flickered. “I’m okay,” he breathed. His eyes rolled back in his head, the whites of them streaked with red.
“Can you do something?” I asked Soren, remembering how he healed my arms. It seemed centuries ago. “Like how you healed me?”
“I’ll try my best,” he said, ripping open the thick layers of Seppo’s clothing with a dagger he drew from his boot. The young man’s chest was a mess of blood, and the outlines of bones stuck out against the flesh in a way even a goblin would find unnatural.
Soren hissed in frustration. “Hold him down,” he said, barking orders at the surrounding wolves and myself. “I need to relocate his ribs, then I’ll see what I can do about the bleeding. I’ve never tried it on an internal wound before.”
As the three wolves pressed their bodies against Seppo’s, my nose crinkled. Seppo couldn’t smell of rot already. I turned in time to see the dismembered body of the draugr writhe and twist gruesomely, forming a pile of severed limbs. The flesh melted together, the bones and sinew knitting in ways it hadn’t been before. A new creature started to rise out of the ashes of the old, but this time the decaying flesh took on the form of a giant bear. It roared in rage, the stench coming off its breath enough to make my eyes water.
Soren’s eyes widened. “No. I don’t understand. We dismembered it. It should’ve stayed dead.”
I took another four arrows in my hand. “You deal with Seppo, all of you. I’ll finish it.”
“Don’t be an idiot, Janneke!” Real terror colored Soren’s voice. “It’ll tear you apart.”
“Save Seppo!” I shouted and bounded from behind the rock. The first arrow went into the bear’s flank as it raged toward me. The second went into its stomach as I slid underneath it, barely missing being shredded by sharp claws.
The draugr turned and stood on his hind legs, bringing his forelegs down with such strength that the ground beneath me shook and split. I lost my balance and rolled into a mess of carcasses and bones.