Page 115 of A Curse Carved in Bone
“Behind you!”
I whirled, lifting my seax, but claws raked across my back. I shrieked and lashed out at the dark shape, but Harald was already slinking back into the shadows.
Neither cat nor wolf.
Not any creature of this world, but a monster of Harald’s creation.
I’d never really seen Harald fight, which meant that I’d badly underestimated how dangerous he truly was.
“Freyaaaaa,” the creature whispered, voice distorted through inhuman vocal cords. “Freyaaaa!”
“Just defend yourself,” Bjorn shouted. “I’m climbing out!”
“Hurry,” I whispered, watching the creature circle. It glittered with spines and midnight scales, red tongue flickering out between rows of fangs. Muscled limbs were tipped with claws as long as my hand, and though a deep wound in its shoulder seeped blood, the injury seemed not to trouble it in the slightest.
And I was armed with a blade only the length of my forearm.
“Finally adopted your true form, I see.” I kept circling, one eye on the hole in the ground, the other on the beast. “Much more suited to your character.”
The creature made a noise that might have passed as a laugh. “Long have I desired to cut out your foolish tongue,” it hissed. “To silence the endless idiocy that pours from your mouth.”
“Is this to be death by a thousand insults, then?” I asked, willing Bjorn to climb faster, though I knew he’d be hindered by his injured shoulder. “If so, you should have asked Ylva to stand in for you in this as well. She’s much more cutting.”
Harald snarled, then spat, and I stepped away from the spraying black substance. It sizzled where it struck the ground, and my pulse ratchetedup a notch. Gods, what I wouldn’t have given for my shield. For my sword. To not have run headlong into a fight where it seemed I was woefully overmatched.
It swiped a clawed foreleg at me, and I struck, but it was already skittering back only to do the same again. Wearing me down.
But I wasn’t the one who was injured. I could keep deflecting attacks until Bjorn got out of the hole, and—
The thought died on my lips, for Harald had withdrawn, serpent’s eyes considering. Then he changed, melting and re-forming. Himself again but with multiple tentacles sprouting from his body, each with a talon on the end.
“Bjorn!” I screamed. “Fucking climb!”
A tentacle lashed toward me and I blocked it, but another one was already flying at my side, talon gleaming. I dived away, rolling to my feet and barely managing to block another strike.
Only for another to swipe at my legs.
I fell onto my back, and the impact nearly knocked my seax from my grip. Cursing, I rolled, a talon glancing off my chain mail vest. Another scaled tentacle swiped at my head, and I lifted my seax to slice off the tip.
A heartbeat later, pain lanced through my thigh and I realized my error. Harald laughed through his fanged mouth as he backed away.
My thigh was pulsing blood in the light of my magic, but it was the horrible burn that sent terror rushing through my veins. The talons were venomous.
“Foolish girl,” Harald cackled, sitting back on his haunches, clearly content to watch me slowly die. “Useless magic of a minor god, and what valuable magic you have is ineffective. Hel will not harm me out of…familial loyalty.”
I pushed up onto my hands and knees.
Harald only laughed. “One must admire your determination. But it is I who will weave your fate, Freya, not you. Mine is the stronger thread.”
“Is this the fate you desired, Harald?” I got to my feet. My leg was in agony, so weak it would barely hold my weight. “Your cabal, lost. Your kingdom, lost. Your power, lost.”
His tentacles quivered, revealing his anger, and I kept a wary distance, circling. My eyes on the glow of fire in the hole.
I limped sideways. “I achieved my destiny, Harald. I united Skaland by controlling my own fate, which means that all of this is my doing, not yours. Saga’s vision has come to pass, and I wonder how it feels to know that despite everything you have done, all your tricks and manipulations, that you could not change the future she saw.Mineis the stronger thread.”
“Then allow me to cut it short!” He lunged at me, tentacles flashing through the air and knocking my seax from my grip, the weapon lost to the shadows.
But as he did, Bjorn’s axe cut into the earth next to the hole and he dragged himself out. Muddy and bloodied, he lifted his axe and hurledit.
