Surrendered to the Berserkers by Lee Savino

Chapter 8

Ragnar

I did not wantto sleep. I wanted to remain awake and treasure this moment. But both Rosalind and I needed rest. In the morning, I would rise and continue on the quest beside her. Tonight, I could only hold her and pray it would not be the last time.

My hopes that Rosalind would sleep without dreams were dashed when she awoke with her mouth open in a silent scream. I raced to draw her into my arms, calling her name as her body thrashed against me.

“Rosalind.” I held her tight, steadying her. “It’s all right. You're safe.”

She came awake with a gasp. For a second, her eyes flashed moonstone bright. Then the light faded, leaving her frightened face.

“I dreamt the Corpse King won. We all died.” She curled into me, pressing her forehead to my chest.

“It was only a dream. It will not happen.” I cast about and finally snapped at Loki, “Tell her!”

“He’s right.” Loki crouched beside us. His hand cuffed her ankle. “There’s still hope, Rosalind.”

Finally, she sat up, wiping her face. “I need to wash.” She stumbled blindly towards her dress. Last night, Loki had brushed it off and hung it on a bush.

I turned away to give her privacy. When she returned from the river, I handed her a clean, flat stone I’d found to use as a plate for the fish I’d baked.

“I’m not hungry.” She tried to refuse the meal, but Loki and I insisted.

A few half-hearted bites, and she stared into the fire. Her face was wan and pale, her eyes haunted, as if she was still in the grip of the dream.

I touched her wrist. “I will not let you die.”

She and Loki shared a glance. I fought the urge to insert myself between them. “It’s no use.” Rosalind set down her plate. “You cannot keep me alive.”

“I can. I will,” I vowed.

Rosalind rose, shaking out her dress. “It’s no use,” she said in a brisk, practical tone. “The quest ends in my death. The witches foretold it.”

“It’s true,” Loki said.

“No,” I snarled at him. We both came to our feet at the same time, and if the moment were not so fraught, if Rosalind was not so distraught, I would have launched myself at him to beat him into the ground. I did not like what he was saying. Why was he taking her side? “How could you say that? Are you giving up?”

“It’s fate,” Rosalind whispered.

“We make our own fate.”

“Like you make yours?” Loki shot back.

I bared my teeth at him. “That is different.” I glared at Loki, willing him not to say any more.

Rosalind set her hands on either side of my face and tugged my gaze away from Loki’s.

“Go home, Ragnar. Find a mate, and live happily. That is why I am on this quest. Not for myself, but for my sister, and the rest of the spaewives. So they may have a good life and be free of the Corpse King’s threat.” She looked even smaller and more fragile this morning. Last night, she’d been a goddess, this morning, she was a young, frightened woman.

“I will not leave you,” I told her.

“Go home, Ragnar,” Loki called from across the clearing. He’d spent the morning erasing all but a few strategically placed runes from the dirt. Now he stood with his foot propped on a stone, sharpening his many knives. “The Alphas sent you to pursue Rosalind and drag her back. If you will not do that then you have no more part here.” He lowered his voice. “You know she cannot be your mate.”

“I know that,” I snapped. I searched for a pack bond so I might tell Loki silently: shut up.

But he did not get my unspoken message. “It was a good deal the Alphas offered,” he continued. “You find the runaway, and she becomes your mate.”

“What?” Rosalind’s gasp rang out, the betrayal written on her face.

* * *

Rosalind

Ragnar glared,his body quivering as if it took all his effort not to leap across the glade and cut Loki down.

“Did he not tell you, Rosalind?” Loki went on as if oblivious to the warrior staring murder at his face. “The quest was to find you, and whoever won would be rewarded. You were the reward.”

“It doesn’t matter,” Ragnar growled.

“How can you say that?” I burst out. It did not surprise me that I would have been given as a trophy to a winner. That was to be expected. What mattered was that Ragnar didn’t tell me. “It matters to me—”

“I would not have accepted it,” Ragnar said.

“It?” I put my hands on my hips.

“You.” He scrubbed a hand over his face. “The reward. I would not have accepted you as a mate.”

This was worse than betrayal. Ragnar couldn’t have hurt me more if he’d stabbed me. I stiffened my features, making my face cold. “You don’t want me as a mate.”

“That’s not what he said,” Loki murmured. “Look at him.”

Ragnar was half turned away from us, his hands curled into fists. His muscles quivered in silent strain. His shoulders were hunched halfway to his ears.

“He wants you, Rosalind,” Loki explained. “That’s the problem. He wants you too much.”

“Do not speak for me,” Ragnar growled, and I flinched. His voice was thick with the guttural tones of the beast.

Loki raised his hands palms up. “No threat offered, brother.”

Ragnar’s roar shook the glade. “Be silent!”

“Ragnar,” I whispered. “Please.”

Another roar, and he stalked off to the edge of the glade, stopping just short of the wall of mist.

After a glance at Loki, I followed.

“Don’t come near,” he snarled without turning. Black fur grew along his arms.

I paid no heed to his warning. I waited at his back, close enough to touch him. Eventually, the fur disappeared. When Ragnar spoke again, his voice was normal.

“I had a warrior brother once. A better man than I. And the beast…” He fell silent.

I took his arm, stroking the skin where fur had sprouted only a moment before. “I’m sorry.” He’d lost his warrior brother. For a Berserker, that was like losing part of his soul.

And I’d once tried to goad him by asking why he didn’t have a warrior brother. I was a callous fool.

“I could not save him. No one could.” Ragnar stared out at the trees, gazing at a distant memory. “I could not pull him back from the brink. In the end, the only way to stop him was to cleave his head from his body. So I did.”

Merely touching his arm was no longer enough. We’d lain together; he needed me now. I stepped in front of him and slid my arms around his waist. After a moment, he clutched me to him. I let myself lean on him, cheek to his chest. “How did you survive?” The bonds formed between warriors to keep them from madness. If one succumbed… the other was soon to follow.

Ragnar’s hand came to cradle my head. “I did not think it would be long before the beast consumed me. I knew the Alphas would be quick to put me down. I welcomed it. I was in darkness…” He tugged on my hair, pulling my head back to lift my face to his. “And then I saw you.”

I shook my head.

“I couldn’t save myself. But I could try to save you.”

“Last night, you said I belonged to you.”

“I should not have said that.”

“So you don’t want me.”

“You know I do.” He pressed his forehead to mine. His growl rumbled in his chest, under my palms. “You are the only thing in the world I want. And I cannot have you.”

“Ragnar,” I said in a shaking voice, “you should choose another—”

“No. There is no one for me but you.”

“But…” I was crying now, “I cannot…” I could not be with him. “I have to…”

“I know. You have your quest. I have mine.” He thumbed away my tears. “I am a weapon. I will go where I will cause the most damage before I meet my death.”

I would have wrenched myself away from him, but he would not let me go. “No.” I struggled, my hands grappling with him even though I only wanted to hold him tight.

“Shhh.” He pulled me close again. “You don’t know what it’s like, at the end. The madness takes over. You become the beast. There’s no return. When it is time, Loki will finish me.”

I turned my head to glare at Loki, who now hovered at our elbows. “You knew about this,” I accused him.

Loki shrugged. “I knew what the witches foretold about you, as well. You are both so determined to walk to your deaths. It seems I am the only one who wants to survive.”

Ragnar growled, and turned us so we had some privacy.

I tugged on Ragnar’s neck, drawing his head close to mine. “I could do this if I knew you would go on. I want you to survive, live a good life. That’s why I’m doing this—for my sister. The spaewives. And…” my whisper hitched on a sob, “you.”

“I know, lass. It’s not to be. But this quest, the enemy… we face them together.” He nuzzled my cheek, his lips finding my ear. “Promise me.” The scrape of his blond beard and his whisper sent a shiver down my spine.

I gripped him harder. “I promise.”

“I know when you lie,” Ragnar growled. He gripped my chin, forcing my gaze to his. The gold light in his eyes seared me.

I bit my lip because I could not promise not to leave him behind. The first chance I had, I would run, and hope that he survived.

“Come,” Loki said. “There is not much time. We must be off.” As usual, he was clad all in black. He’d left his cloak and packs behind. For weapons, he held a staff carved with runes, and wore a wide black leather belt strapped across his chest, holding a dozen daggers of ranging sizes.

“I'm ready,” Ragnar grunted. He stepped away from me and took up his axes, gripping one in each hand. His nails had thickened to claws. His eyes glittered bright with the gold of the beast. He would turn soon, and become a monster. According to what he’d told me, he would not turn back. This was the end for him. “Rosalind.” He motioned, and I fell into step between them.

My hands were free. I had no weapon, nothing but the moonstone dagger still on a leather thong around my neck. I could only hope the Corpse King’s servants wouldn’t be drawn to the moonstone

Underneath the weight of the moonstone, my heart beat very, very fast.

We marched onward, Ragnar at my back, and Loki scouting ahead. With each step, my own thoughts mocked me. Who was I to think I could complete this quest?

“This way.” Loki beckoned and I hastened my steps, struggling to climb a rocky hill.

It was too late to turn back, but this wasn't going to work. I couldn't go on knowing that I would lose Ragnar. As for Loki… he had said that if he died in this life, he died forever. I did not quite know what that meant but I did not want him to die.

“Wait,” I said, but a rumble ripped from Ragnar's chest and drowned me out.

As we rounded a crop of boulders, the stench of the draugr hit me. The smell blended with the spiced scent of the Corpse King's magic. Stretching before us in a grey, stinking sea were tens of thousands of undead soldiers. Just like in my dream.

“So many of them.” The words turned to dust in my parched mouth. Every few feet, blue flames flickered over the soldiers’ heads. The mage’s magic keeping them in line.

“Beyond them—do you see? In the mist?” Loki pointed. Beyond the ranks of draugr, a heavy grey cloud covered the earth. A thick wall of mist, much like the one Loki had woven around us last night. Only this spell was a hundred times as big. “He has hidden his fortress. That is our destination.”

“Let’s go.” Ragnar hoisted his axe.

“You fool,” Loki made the insult sound almost fond. “You think you can fight them all?”

“I can try.” Ragnar’s eyes glinted bright as a jarl’s torch.

“If you go straight through them, how long will Rosalind survive?” Loki pointed out.

“I must walk in of my own strength,” I repeated what the witches told me.

“There’s a way around,” Loki murmured. He pointed to the south, where a silver line glinted in the early sun. “Along the river. The draugr do not like to cross it.”

“How long will it take?” I rasped. My mouth was filled with ashes.

“We will arrive by nightfall.”

“Let us be off then,” I said before Ragnar could protest.

Head down, I marched behind Loki. My back bowed, and it became harder to breathe as we ventured deeper into the Corpse King’s power. We crept along, hiding as best we could. The Corpse King’s servants had cut down all trees, and stripped the land. They must have burned much of it, for the air had a smokey tang. Now and again we came upon scorched patches of earth. Nothing grew. No birds sang. The Corpse King had turned this place into a barren hell-hole.

Even the river, when we reached it, was fouled and sludge-like. We dared not drink its water.

“This is the fate of the world,” Loki murmured, almost to himself. “If we do not stop the Corpse—”

“Hush,” I snapped. “Do not speak his name. Even now, the stones might be listening.”

“You think a little silence will change our fate?”

“I will do my best,” I said, glancing up at the column of thick mist that loomed ever closer. “It’s all I can do. You can run, Loki, if you like.”

“I think I’ll stay.”

“Even knowing you might die?” I picked up my skirts a little higher off the charred earth.

Loki fell into step beside me. He was playing with a small dagger, tossing it into the air and catching it without cutting himself. “I’ve never died before. It might be interesting.”

“This is a game to you?”

“No.” He caught the dagger and used the tip to scratch his eyebrow. “This is the one time where the stakes are too high. I will do my best to help you, Rosalind. I give you my word.”

“Promises can be broken,” I murmured.

Loki grinned and went back to tossing the dagger.

I watched him a moment, then snatched the weapon from the air before he could catch it. Using the tricks he’d taught me, I flipped it over and around both my hands, and slipped it into my sleeve. I raised my hands palm up to show the dagger was gone.

“Well done. Not enough to fool me, of course.” Loki winked, and the dagger was in his hand, no longer in my sleeve. “But good enough to fool most.”

“Would that you had more time to teach me.”

“That’s the trouble with being mortal. There’s not enough time. Every moment matters.” He rubbed his head. “Every action can lead to life or death. I am not used to things mattering.”

“And as a god, nothing matters to you?”

“No,” he sighed. “I suppose that’s why I am here. To see if I have a heart after all.”

“If you do, I hope you find it,“ I murmured. I was glad I’d met Loki, even if it was only for a short time.

“If anyone could stir my heart, Rosalind, it would be you,” he purred, letting his gaze glide over me, head to foot. I was filthy from the soot, my hair clumped with sweat and dirt. But I still flushed like a lady-in-waiting under his scrutiny. “But as it were, you only stirred my—”

“The enemy,” Ragnar’s grunt cut into our conversation. “Draugr. Ahead.”

We were between the river and a man-made hillock of earth. Ragnar crept up the mound and crawled the last few feet on his belly. Loki and I did the same.

Just over the hill, the draugr stood in silent rows, waiting for the order to attack.

They were so close, I could make out the sooty smudges on their weapons.

“Is there a way around them?” I asked in the barest whisper.

“Not this time,” Loki said calmly. “The river curves and leads away. We cannot get any closer.”

“If we can’t go around them, then we go through them.” Ragnar slid his axe to point higher up the hill. “Rosalind, be ready to run.”

My heartbeat pounded as I pressed myself against the bare earth. Ahead, the Corpse King’s magic was thick as perfume. The last time it had been so strong, the Corpse King had projected himself right in front of me. I closed my eyes and felt his bony fingers on my face.

“Rosalind?” Loki’s murmur drew me back.

“Yes.” My voice was faint. “I’m ready.”

Something made me glance behind me. Behind us, creeping along the river, were more draugr.

I must have made a noise of warning, because Ragnar and Loki both turned.

“We’re trapped,” Loki said sharply. “We must go.”

Loki and Ragnar rose to their feet as one. Ragnar hefted his axe, ready to swing it in a deadly cyclone.

But Loki stepped forward, quicker than the eye could see. He threw a dagger. It sailed slowly, end over end, into the waiting host. Between the moment the blade left Loki’s fingers, and the moment it touched down onto the earth between the ranks of draugr, the sky darkened.

Lightning crackled down, splitting the air in a blinding river of white light. The lightning struck the dagger, and splintered. Jagged lines of pure power struck the ranks of undead soldiers. Thunder rolled. Several draugr fell.

Ragnar and I looked at Loki, our mouths hanging open.

“I have a few tricks up my sleeve.” Loki’s smile was as sharp as a blade. “Rosalind, follow our lead.”

I gathered my skirts. They felt heavy in my hands.

Loki strode down the hillock, a dagger in each hand. Distant flashes of lightning silhouetted his dark form.

Ragnar roared. Swinging his axe, he raced down the hill, passing Loki. He rushed into the ranks of the undead and kept going. Bodies flew. I followed, racing into the path Ragnar and Loki cleaved before me.

Looking back, it seems impossible that we made our way through the ranks of the draugr. I can only wonder if the Corpse King knew we were coming, and welcomed it, and so forbade his soldiers to fight.

In the moment, in the thick of things, I had no time to think. Loki had said that the draugr wanted me to go to the Corpse King, that the mage wanted the moonstone. It must have been true but in the heat of the moment, with the press of the draugr’s stench upon us, the fight seemed endless and unwinnable.

As I followed the warriors through the draugr, my horror grew and my steps faltered. Loki had to return to my side long enough to catch my arm and pull me along. With his free hand, he slashed at any draugr unlucky enough to come close. Ragnar's axe rose and fell like a scythe, cutting through the lines of soldiers. Rank upon rank, they came alive as one and moved with a dry, creaking sound. The lightning struck again and again, igniting the undead.

Loki had to let go of me to fend off a squadron. I stumbled. Bony fingers caught my arms. I thrashed, to no avail. The soldiers dragged me a few feet.

“Ragnar,” I cried. I caught my breath when he turned. He was no longer a man. His eyes glowed in the face of a black-furred beast towering ten feet high. His axe looked like a toy in his hand. He flung the weapon into the ranks of the enemy, taking out ten draugr at a time. He loped past me, beastly paws extended. His claws ripped through the closest soldiers.

“Got you,” Loki was at my back, lifting me easily. He spun around, and carried me like a bride across the battlefield. Bones and debris crunched underfoot.

I wanted to close my eyes, but it seemed wrong not to bear witness to the carnage these two warriors wrought.

The battle was not over. There were more draugr closing in, blocking our way back. Not that I needed a way back. Ahead of us loomed the wall of mist—a long, smoke-like column hiding the Corpse King’s fortress. That was where my quest would end.

But for Loki and Ragnar, it did not have to end here.

“Let me down.” I struggled in Loki’s arms. “I must walk in of my own volition.”

“We don’t know what’s behind the mist. You could be walking for miles.” But he set me down, and darted forward to fight the draugr who stood in my path.

I picked up my skirts and followed, keeping as close to Loki as I dared. My head down, I didn’t notice we were on a hill until he threw the last of the draugr down it.

“We’re clear. Look.”

Ahead was nothing but barren land, sloping down into the wall of mist.

“Let me go alone,” I said.

“No,” a growl sounded from the foot of the hill.

Somehow the monster that was Ragnar had fought his way clear of the soldiers. He climbed to our sides, half walking, half crawling on the beast’s burly, fur-covered arms.

“We go together,” Loki said. I nodded. With the beast on my right and Loki on my left, I raced down the hill towards the mist.

“Hold fast to me.” Loki grabbed my arm as we hurtled forward towards the billowing grey.

I could not shake him off. Together, we plowed into the fog.

The magic mist enveloped me like mud. I couldn’t see. I couldn’t breathe. It was like being buried alive.

“What is happening?” I tried to scream. My hands clawed at the fog in front of me, but the grey did not clear. I was trapped. “No!” Panic beat in my breast. I thrashed but it was like moving in water. The magic surrounded me, closing in. There was no way out.

Someone tugged me forward. I fought, at first.

“Rosalind!” I thought I heard a muffled whisper in the mist.

It was Loki. He was still holding my arm.

If it weren’t for Loki hauling me forward, I might never have broken free. Somehow, he pulled me out of the viscous grey and into the bright day.

The mist cleared, and we both lay, hacking, on the grass. I dashed my hands over my face, wiping my eyes as if I could wipe away the mist. Only after I’d taken a few breaths of clean air did I calm.

“Thank you,” I said.

Loki nodded. His own chest heaved. His green eye was wild. The spell had affected him too. We both sat on the green grass, in a pleasant forest glade. Trees rustled in the wind. Birds chirped in their branches. It was like another world.

The beautiful day did not reassure me.

“Ragnar?” I turned. “Where is Ragnar?”

There was no sign of the monster. Was he still stuck in the mist?

A huge, golden-eyed wolf padded out of the forest. I’d never seen such a giant beast. Wolves were bigger than dogs, but this wolf was bigger than an ordinary one by far.

“Ragnar?”

At my call, he slunk closer. The sunlight dappled his grey and brown fur.

“Ragnar.” I held out a hand, inviting him forward. I’d never seen him in wolf form. But I knew it was him.

“Wait.” Loki tugged me back. “The madness is upon him.”

“He would never hurt me.” I opened my arms, and the wolf closed the gap. I hugged his neck, pushing my face into the thick ruff. He smelled like cedar.

“I’m glad you survived,” I whispered.

The wolf drew back and licked at my face. The rasp of his rough tongue reassured me.

After a moment, I tugged myself up, with the wolf’s help.

The air in the glade was warm, lush, and green, and gilded with gentle sunlight.

“What is this place?” I asked. It looked too beautiful to be the Corpse King’s domain.

“The inner sanctum. My guess is the fortress lies that way.” Loki pointed into the forest. For a moment the birds stopped chirping, then they resumed.

I shivered. Beautiful or no, something wasn’t right about this place.

“I suppose we should keep going.” I couldn’t keep the reluctance out of my voice. “Perhaps it will be easy from now on.”

“Wait.” Loki stopped me with a hand on my arm. “Do you hear that?”

The birds had gone silent again.

Deep in the forest a creaking sound echoed.

“Something’s coming,” I said.

The wolf straightened, teeth bared. His fur rose on end and he growled, long and low.

Beyond the first line of trees, something was moving. The trees beyond shuddered, their leaves rustling.

Loki and Ragnar stepped in front of me.

Out of the forest flew a long grey bone. It bounced on the lawn and came to a stop a few feet away. Another bone followed, landing on the first with a clatter. We all stared.

Another bone and another, until the pile grew. Blue light limned the gruesome mound.

“Can we go around it?” I ventured forward, but Loki raised a hand. Something shifted in the pile. The light of the Corpse King’s magic flared upwards, and the bones flew into a formation. More bones flew out of the forest to join the rest, and the magic built them into a towering shape. It had a broad back like a horse, and legs and a long, long neck. And when it opened its bare, bony jaw, it spat blue fire.

“Thor’s balls,” Loki grunted, and unsheathed two knives. “A bone dragon.” He cast a glance to Ragnar. “Can you transform?”

The wolf shook his head.

“Wonderful,” Loki muttered. “It’s up to me to fight the final guardian. Rosalind, you’d best stay out of the way.”

The dragon lurched forward slowly on half-formed legs. If I hadn’t seen it, I wouldn’t have believed the creature could exist. It was no more than a bundle of bones, bound together with blue light.

I stepped to the side, closer to the wall of mist. I took care not to let the grey fog touch me.

My fingers slid into my pocket. The rune balls lay there.

“Loki,” I called. “Can you do any magic?”

He rolled his shoulders and tilted his head until his neck cracked. “I can try.”

I clutched a rune ball in my hand. If I could help, I would.

The wolf darted forward for the first attack. Ragnar dashed between the dragon’s legs, snapping. He tore into the creature, tossing bones aside. Blue light illuminated his fur. The dragon somehow turned and kicked out, and wolf Ragnar went flying. He landed on the grass and rolled to his feet. Unharmed.

But the bones he’d torn from the dragon’s body twitched. For a moment, they quivered like iron nails near a lodestone. Then the blue light flashed, and the bones Ragnar had torn from the dragon flew back and were re-absorbed into the bone formation.

“Damn,” Loki said. “We must find a way to take it apart and stop it from animating again.” He snapped his fingers. “Salt.”

Ragnar the wolf was already attacking the dragon, tearing at its legs again.

Loki ran behind, dodging the dragon’s newly formed tail.

A few bones landed on the grass, tossed there by Ragnar. Loki threw a handful of salt over them. The bones twitched, and then went still.

“Aha!” He turned to grin at me, triumphant.

The dragon’s long neck snapped around. It opened its bony maw.

“Loki, look out,” I screamed.

A furred shape slammed into Loki before the blue fire caught him. Wolf Ragnar and Loki rolled together over the grass, rising to their feet in time to dance out of the way of the bone dragon’s flailing tail.

Loki called across the clearing to the furred warrior. “You saved my life, wolf. I won’t forget it.”

Together, they attacked the bone dragon. Ragnar’s fangs ripped bones away, out of the magic formation. Loki salted them. Piles of bones lay inert in the grass. The magic could not touch them.

Rosalind, someone whispered to me. A voice I’d heard many times before, in the dead of winter when I could not sleep. I gripped the front of my gown, checking to see if the dagger was still there.

Beyond the glade, the forest beckoned.

It was time to finish my quest. While the warriors were busy with the dragon, I could slip away. They would not die. They could fight their way back, through the mist, and together they would carve a path through the draugr so they could escape.

Come to me,the Corpse King whispered. I took a step forward, and another. The mist flared out as I passed it, as if trying to grab me. Herding me forward. I edged around the field of battle, dodging flying bones. The only sounds were the warriors’ grunts and the clanking bones.

Eventually, I made my way close to the forest. Ragnar and Loki did not even notice.

Be safe, I willed them, and with one last glance, I turned to run.

“Rosalind,” Loki shouted. He was on top of the dragon, riding its bony spine. The dragon lurched. Ragnar dodged the flailing tail and raked his claws into it, scattering more bones upon the grass.

“You must wait for us,” Loki grunted, fighting to keep his balance.

“Go back,” I shouted, motioning to the mist. “Save yourself.”

“No,” Loki snarled. “We must not be separated. If there is to be any hope, we must stay together. The witches foretold it!”

“There is no hope for me,” I said. “You know that.”

With a war cry, Loki steadied himself and poured salt right on the dragon’s neck. Blue light flared, blinding me.

The dragon disintegrated, half the bones falling to the ground. The other half flew to form a cage around Ragnar and Loki.

“No!” Loki fought the bones, but his salt pouch lay on the trampled grass, empty. He and Ragnar tore the cage apart, only to have it reform around them.

Eventually, they would fight their way free and come after me.

I thrust my fingers into my pouch, where the witches had given me a few weapons. I would not use them on my enemy, but on my friends.

“No!” Loki shouted.

I pitched the smoke bombs to the ground. They exploded with a great crack that threw me backwards. Behind me, smoke billowed. Bits of bone rained down. A roar of rage drove me to my feet.

In the confusion, I whirled, and ran.

* * *

Loki

“Dammit, what is she thinking?”I muttered. The smoke from the rune stones cleared. The weapons helped blow one corner of the cage apart. Ragnar and I fought the rest of the bones. The wolf bit them, and I stomped them to powder. Slowly, we worked to free ourselves.

“I was supposed to help her,” I complained as I worked. “Little ninny, running full bore ahead with no regard for her life.”

Ragnar the wolf barked.

“Don’t shout at me.” I glared at him. He tossed a bone to me, and I snapped it in half. “We had a plan, and she ruined it. True, the witches told her she would not survive this quest. But there are many things that can turn fate. I’m not sure what, but something might come to me.”

We were almost clear of the cage. I kicked at the bony lattice, and it fell apart. Blue magic curled half-heartedly around the pieces.

I stomped on them, just in case. “We make our own fate, someone once told me.” I winked at Ragnar. The wolf did not look amused. Indeed, there was an accusing light in his golden eyes.

“Well, what would you have me do?” I waved a bone. “She left me behind. Just because she’s determined to be a hero doesn’t mean I have to follow suit.”

The wall of mist. I could leave now, and return to the witches. No one would fault me.

“I have to stay alive,” I mused to myself. “It would be so sad if I died.”

A cyclone of magic picked up, drawing the bones into a tower. Ragnar and I both rushed it, making short work of the remaining bones.

Something prickled in my side. I touched my fingers to my jerkin, and they came away washed in brilliant red. I cursed.

Ragnar barked.

“Just some blood,” I answered. “Common among humans, I’m told. Hope the wound isn’t fatal.”

The wolf cocked his head. I didn’t like the way he was staring at my blood. I wiped my fingers on my breeches, and swiped up a fallen dagger.

“You should return, Ragnar.” I nodded to the wall of mist. “You’ve done all you can.”

The wolf bared his teeth at me. Then he turned and trotted in the direction Rosalind had run.

Have you ever done something for anyone other than yourself?

“Thor’s tiny balls,” I grunted, and followed.

It seemed I would have to be a hero after all.

* * *

Rosalind

I crashed through the forest,stumbling a little as I ran. The forest was quiet, lush and green, and achingly lovely. I didn’t dare stop. Would Ragnar and Loki ever forgive me?

The day was warm and fine, the forest filled with welcoming birdsong. I raced through a glade, crushing bluebells under my boots. I’d run like this all the way to the gates of the Corpse King’s fortress if I had to.

It didn't matter what happened to me. I had saved them.

My heart fluttered, a panicked bird in the cage of my chest. I forced my steps to slow. My desperation didn’t match the happy, sunny day.

Ragnar and Loki would be fine.

The more I walked, the calmer I felt. The grass seemed greener, the bluebells bluer. Overhead, the trees parted to show a clear sky. What had I found strange about this place? It tugged at my memory but I turned my thoughts away from it.

All would be well. I simply had to find the Corpse King, and my quest would be done. I could rest.

Why had I been so worried about the quest? My thoughts slipped from me like silver fishes in a stream, swimming away.

After a while, I came up to a brook, clear water rippling over the flat river stones. If I wanted, I could kneel and drink the fresh liquid but I curiously felt no hunger or thirst.

I’d been covered with dust and bits of ash, but now my dress looked clean. My hands and arms should have been smudged with soot, but the smooth, pale skin looked freshly scrubbed. My nails were unbroken. I leaned over the brook for a moment. My reflection showed my narrow face. I looked rested, regal. There was a brightness to my eyes. They almost glowed like moonstones.

I stared at my reflection, fiddling with the dagger under my bodice. There was something important about the dagger, but I could not remember what.

It didn't matter. The day rolled on, too pretty to waste. I did not know how long I walked. I followed the brook, soothed by its peaceful bubbling. Together, we meandered between lush crops of ferns and more bluebells.

Why had I thought that the Corpse King turned the world into a barren wasteland? This was the most beautiful forest I'd ever been in. It was perfect, almost like a garden. Perhaps the mage used his magic to create it.

A mage who created such a beautiful garden wouldn’t be so terrible to meet. Would he?

My boots sank into the thick carpet of moss and flowers. Through the trees, I caught silver flashes of a waterfall. The brook was winding its way to it. I stepped around a cluster of birch, prickles running up my skin.

The waterfall crashed into a deep pool. The watery mist rose, cooling the air.

Beside the deep pool, staring at his reflection, lounged a young man. He was long in limb, with strong features and dark auburn hair.

I tucked myself against a birch tree, hugging the trunk for a moment as I peeked at the man. His face was flushed and healthy with the bloom of youth. He wore a long dark robe, like a priest or a scholar. This could be the mage’s assistant.

As I left my hiding place and approached, the young man looked up and faced me with the full force of his beauty.

A wind stirred, brushing past me. I almost expected the wind to carry the stench of the draugr, but the air was clear.

The man had a spicy sort of scent. Not unpleasant.

“I am looking for the Corpse King,” I said.

“Ah, yes.” The young man rose, pale cheeks tinting a little red, as if embarrassed I’d caught him lounging. “He is here. You have found him. He dwells near here, in his castle.”

“Is he your master?”

The man bowed his head. His hair was thick and full, shining like polished wood. Hints of red flashed in it as he moved. “Come, my lady, and I will bring you to him.”

Our walk through the rest of the forest was slow and measured. We were heading uphill. Ahead loomed a mountain of mist. Every once in a while, the young man looked down and smiled at me.

Walk into the Corpse King’s lair of your own volition.The memory came to me, but I had no idea what it meant.

The trees parted and with them, the mists cloaking the towering castle. Shining turrets stretched to the sky. The fortress was made of polished obsidian. It gleamed in the sunlight.

It reminded me of a dream I’d once had. And yet…

“It’s smaller than I thought it would be,” I said.

“It’s not finished yet.” The young man sounded a little annoyed.

I wanted to soothe him. “Will you show me inside?”

“It would be my pleasure. He held out a hand. I hesitated a moment, studying the unmarked palm. No callouses. His skin was young and supple, and when I placed my hand in his, it felt cool to the touch. Almost like stone.

But his beauty dazzled me, and I thought no more about his strange hands as I walked with him through the open gates.