White Stag (Permafrost #1)(71)

Its sightless eyes turned to Soren, working tirelessly on Seppo’s body. Wicked yellow teeth grew from its gummy mouth. I scrambled to stand and released another arrow into its rump, hoping it would come back for me. It did, charging so fast that the whiplash of wind stung my cheeks during my narrow dodge.

Dismembering it didn’t work. Firing at it was only getting it angrier. I didn’t have an unlimited supply of arrows. When I ran out, I would be done. Even the stiletto couldn’t do anything to this creature.

I scrambled under an outcrop of rocks and skeletons, taking precious moments to think and hide. The nail in my bracer pressed hard into my flesh as I leaned on my arm. Its burning was agony, but the pain was nothing compared to the idea of failing. This monster would eat Soren and Seppo if given the chance. It would rip them apart while they still had breath in their bodies. It would crush the wolves and it would drive me mad, and then it would watch as I flung myself from the cliffs.

There had to be something, anything that would kill it. In my village, whenever we thought a corpse would rise again, we burned it until there was nothing left and spread the ashes in the sea.

But there was no fire here at the top of the mountains and no means to create one. But there’s a fire burning constantly against your arm. You thought so yourself. It was a nail, just an old iron nail.

Before I thought I just couldn’t let go of the one remaining bit of my human life. But what if …

It would probably get me killed. But insane plans were working for us pretty well at the moment, and all I had to lose was my life.

I came out of the hill of rocks and bones on one knee, knowing I had one shot. I had to make it count. The nail came out of the bracer, and I pulled a glove off one hand with my teeth. I forced myself to hold on to the nail as the agony spread through my hand. My skin grayed then blackened as the fires of Hel shot through my fingers and lingered in my wrist, until my entire arm was ablaze with pain that brought black spots to the edge of my vision. Nothing could describe it; no months of beatings, no repeated assaults against my body, no emotional anguish, nothing was more painful than this iron against my skin.

Iron that was now glowing white with heat. Quickly, as my eyesight went fuzzy, I ripped a strip of cloth from my tunic and tied the nail to the point of the arrow. The skin peeled from my hand as I did so, and I couldn’t help but let out a scream so loud I was sure they’d hear me back in the human world. With a trembling, bleeding hand, I steadied my bow and aimed at the draugr. I breathed in and out like my father taught me and let the string loose. The white-hot iron pierced through the sightless eyes of the monster and I stood by as the creature burst into flames.

Chills set in. I was burning and freezing at the same time. My hand, oh my hand! I reached for the stiletto, determined to cut it off as my vision turned to darkness. It was like a part of me was dying, rotting in the most painful way, while the rest of me could only look on and scream.

Hands pressed against my shoulder, rolling me onto my back. Through the hazy darkness Soren’s lilac eyes gazed into mine, his bloodied hair falling in my face. “It’s okay,” he said. “It’s okay. Seppo’s going to be all right. I did it, I did—” His voice fell away as he caught sight of my hand. I couldn’t see it, didn’t want to see it, but I doubted there could be anything left but painful, exposed bone.

“Cut it off!” I screamed. “Cut it off! Cut it off!” That was the only way for the pain to stop.

“Seppo!” Soren shouted. “Get Skadi! Get Skadi!”

From my blurring vision, I saw the young man rise and nod, weary lines etched across his face. But nothing else seemed wrong.

Soren took my face in his hands. “Look at me, Janneke. Look at me!”

I tried, I really tried, but the black spots were threatening to crowd out the white sky above us. Soren jerked my head up, forcing our eyes to meet. Mine, green like the moss on trees, and his, lilac like the flowers that never grew in the Permafrost.

“Dammit, Janneka!” he snarled.

He was calling me by my old name a lot lately. I thought I was supposed to hate that.

“Stop screaming,” he pleaded. “Please stop screaming. You’re wasting your energy.”

I was screaming? The only sound in my ears was a cold, tinny ringing.

A hand like ice brushed against my forehead, and the numbness spreading through me was colder than the dead of winter. The burning was still there, but it was manageable.

“Skadi,” Soren breathed in relief.

A voice in the wind answered, “I come to those who fulfill their promises.” The icy hand brushed against my cheek once more. “Child, close your eyes. You’re safe.”

I did as she said, and let the coldness take me.





PART THREE


THE STAG





17


GROWTH


I WOKE TO the sound of bubbling water. My eyelids were heavy, my body trying to rouse itself from deep sleep. It took a few tries, but when my eyes finally did open, I found myself in an unfamiliar place. The cave surrounding me wasn’t cold, furs and blankets were draped around me, keeping my body warm, and in the back there was a spring with steam rising from the water.

“Where?” My lips cracked as I said the word. The last things I remembered flashed in my head. The draugr. Seppo. The nail. My hand. Oh gods, my hand.