Willing Sacrifice
Page 32
The urge to flee set in, stealing all other rational thought. She tried to stand, but ice had already hardened around her knees, locking them in place. She slammed her fists down on the frozen surface, but it was already too thick to break, and growing thicker by the second.
The stream kept running, piling more water on top of the ice. Layer by layer, her legs were being encased faster than she would have thought possible.
Torr let out a cry of rage. One second his hands were empty, the next they held a gleaming sword.
He charged toward her, his face twisted into a fierce battle mask.
For a second, she thought he was going to cut her down. That old, greasy fear slithered through her, urging her to hide and cower. But instead of hurting her, Torr leapt over her, landing on the opposite side of the stream.
The creature’s attention shifted to him. Its flat body curved around and reared back to prepare to charge. Every time it moved, she heard the sound of broken glass chips grinding against one another.
Torr attacked. Steel met black stone in a shower of sparks. Small shards of shiny rock flew out from the blow, but that didn’t slow the thing down.
He shoved the creature away from Grace, causing it to slide over frozen, crunchy foliage.
A few feet to her right, the stream ran free of ice. A branch had fallen there—maybe one she could use to pry the ice away from her legs.
She leaned sideways, reaching out as far as she could. The tips of her fingers barely brushed the wet bark, causing it to shift away from her.
To her left, a horrendous crashing sounded in the trees. She spared only a quick glance—long enough to see that the creature had shoved Torr into a tree hard enough to knock it over. He roared in pain and fury. The creature screeched, letting out a sound like pottery smashing on stone.
If she didn’t get free, there was nothing she could do to help Torr. It was taking all his effort just to keep the thing from coming after her.
She pulled the short dagger from her belt and flipped it so the blade was in her hand. The ice was up to her thighs now, and her lower legs had gone numb.
She reached for the branch again. The small crossguard on her dagger caught the rough bark, and she dragged the end of the branch close enough that she could grasp it.
Water cascaded over her as she lifted the branch and started bashing it against the ice. A small crack formed, only to be immediately filled with more rushing water that froze on contact.
A terrifying screech exploded from the creature. Her head whipped around to see what had happened, but all she saw was a rain of glassy black shards falling over Torr’s body. Each one left a small cut in his skin, but he didn’t seem to notice the pain. His gaze was fixed on a point over her head.
She looked where he did and saw another of the Hunters inching closer to her across the ice. She hadn’t even seen it approaching.
A fresh wave of fear shook her, making her arms go weak. The branch fell to the ice and stuck. She struggled to push herself up, but it was no use. As water ran over her fingers, it began solidifying, trapping her hands, too.
Her panic made her stronger. She ripped her hands free, cracking the thin layer of ice that pinned her fingers. Blood swirled in the water sliding by for only a second before it, too, became part of the ice. Several of her braided rings tore loose, but she was too numb to feel them go.
The Hunter prowled closer, its shiny black teeth easily visible now. Water droplets coated its body, but it shook like a wet dog, spewing pellets of ice.
Torr came to her side. He was careful to stay on the edge of the ice where no water was flowing to trap his feet. He moved slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. His sword spun in a graceful circle as he approached the creature, drawing its attention away from her.
“Can you pry yourself free?” he asked her, his voice as calm and even as if he were asking about the weather.
“No.”
“Okay. Hang on. I’ve got this.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he charged with brutal speed. She had no idea how he kept his balance on the ice, much less accelerated. But he did.
A moment later, he bulldozed right into the creature, sending it back over the ice and into the brush along the stream. The pommel of his sword slammed down on the thing, and chips of gleaming black rock flew out.
The creature screamed, the sound like shards of glass in her ears. It set off another one of those spurts of panic that made her try to shove herself free.
Her bloody hands clung to the ice. She didn’t feel any pain, only a searing numbness at the ends of her wrists.
By the time she had the sense to think of lifting her hands away before they got stuck, it was too late. Ice formed over her fingers, pinning her. She was completely trapped. Completely helpless.
As the realization set in, so did the cold. She started shivering uncontrollably. Her rapid breaths misted out, clouding her vision. She caught fleeting glimpses of Torr in combat with the creature, but she couldn’t tell if he was winning.
Lethargy weighed her down. Every few seconds, she’d feel a warm breeze sweep past, taunting her with hope.
The sounds of combat grew distant as Torr drove the creature away from her. No more ice formed over the old, but it was already too late. The ice was up to her breasts now, chilling her every breath.
She was going to freeze to death in the middle of summer, and her sluggish brain couldn’t think of a single way to stop it.
Battle crashed in the woods. The fight seemed to last for hours, and each one was filled with shivering cold.
The world grew quiet, with only the sound of water rushing by. Everything was dark, but she was too confused to tell if it was night or if it was just that her eyes wouldn’t open. She could smell the forest, but it was crisper and sharper than it should have been.
“Stay with me, Grace.” Torr’s voice. Then a heavy pounding and cracking sound.
Her whole body was numb, but she could tell she was moving. She didn’t know how.
“Open your eyes, honey. Show me you’re okay.” Was that panic she heard in his voice?
Grace tried to comply but couldn’t remember how. She couldn’t even remember how to tell him she was sorry she’d let him down.
Lethargy fell over her like a lead blanket. She had to sleep now. There was no other choice.
• • •
It had been a long time since Torr had needed to build a fire without matches. The one that burned now in the mouth of the shallow cave he’d found wasn’t his best work, but it was putting off plenty of heat, and that was all he needed.
The stream kept running, piling more water on top of the ice. Layer by layer, her legs were being encased faster than she would have thought possible.
Torr let out a cry of rage. One second his hands were empty, the next they held a gleaming sword.
He charged toward her, his face twisted into a fierce battle mask.
For a second, she thought he was going to cut her down. That old, greasy fear slithered through her, urging her to hide and cower. But instead of hurting her, Torr leapt over her, landing on the opposite side of the stream.
The creature’s attention shifted to him. Its flat body curved around and reared back to prepare to charge. Every time it moved, she heard the sound of broken glass chips grinding against one another.
Torr attacked. Steel met black stone in a shower of sparks. Small shards of shiny rock flew out from the blow, but that didn’t slow the thing down.
He shoved the creature away from Grace, causing it to slide over frozen, crunchy foliage.
A few feet to her right, the stream ran free of ice. A branch had fallen there—maybe one she could use to pry the ice away from her legs.
She leaned sideways, reaching out as far as she could. The tips of her fingers barely brushed the wet bark, causing it to shift away from her.
To her left, a horrendous crashing sounded in the trees. She spared only a quick glance—long enough to see that the creature had shoved Torr into a tree hard enough to knock it over. He roared in pain and fury. The creature screeched, letting out a sound like pottery smashing on stone.
If she didn’t get free, there was nothing she could do to help Torr. It was taking all his effort just to keep the thing from coming after her.
She pulled the short dagger from her belt and flipped it so the blade was in her hand. The ice was up to her thighs now, and her lower legs had gone numb.
She reached for the branch again. The small crossguard on her dagger caught the rough bark, and she dragged the end of the branch close enough that she could grasp it.
Water cascaded over her as she lifted the branch and started bashing it against the ice. A small crack formed, only to be immediately filled with more rushing water that froze on contact.
A terrifying screech exploded from the creature. Her head whipped around to see what had happened, but all she saw was a rain of glassy black shards falling over Torr’s body. Each one left a small cut in his skin, but he didn’t seem to notice the pain. His gaze was fixed on a point over her head.
She looked where he did and saw another of the Hunters inching closer to her across the ice. She hadn’t even seen it approaching.
A fresh wave of fear shook her, making her arms go weak. The branch fell to the ice and stuck. She struggled to push herself up, but it was no use. As water ran over her fingers, it began solidifying, trapping her hands, too.
Her panic made her stronger. She ripped her hands free, cracking the thin layer of ice that pinned her fingers. Blood swirled in the water sliding by for only a second before it, too, became part of the ice. Several of her braided rings tore loose, but she was too numb to feel them go.
The Hunter prowled closer, its shiny black teeth easily visible now. Water droplets coated its body, but it shook like a wet dog, spewing pellets of ice.
Torr came to her side. He was careful to stay on the edge of the ice where no water was flowing to trap his feet. He moved slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. His sword spun in a graceful circle as he approached the creature, drawing its attention away from her.
“Can you pry yourself free?” he asked her, his voice as calm and even as if he were asking about the weather.
“No.”
“Okay. Hang on. I’ve got this.”
Before she could ask what he meant, he charged with brutal speed. She had no idea how he kept his balance on the ice, much less accelerated. But he did.
A moment later, he bulldozed right into the creature, sending it back over the ice and into the brush along the stream. The pommel of his sword slammed down on the thing, and chips of gleaming black rock flew out.
The creature screamed, the sound like shards of glass in her ears. It set off another one of those spurts of panic that made her try to shove herself free.
Her bloody hands clung to the ice. She didn’t feel any pain, only a searing numbness at the ends of her wrists.
By the time she had the sense to think of lifting her hands away before they got stuck, it was too late. Ice formed over her fingers, pinning her. She was completely trapped. Completely helpless.
As the realization set in, so did the cold. She started shivering uncontrollably. Her rapid breaths misted out, clouding her vision. She caught fleeting glimpses of Torr in combat with the creature, but she couldn’t tell if he was winning.
Lethargy weighed her down. Every few seconds, she’d feel a warm breeze sweep past, taunting her with hope.
The sounds of combat grew distant as Torr drove the creature away from her. No more ice formed over the old, but it was already too late. The ice was up to her breasts now, chilling her every breath.
She was going to freeze to death in the middle of summer, and her sluggish brain couldn’t think of a single way to stop it.
Battle crashed in the woods. The fight seemed to last for hours, and each one was filled with shivering cold.
The world grew quiet, with only the sound of water rushing by. Everything was dark, but she was too confused to tell if it was night or if it was just that her eyes wouldn’t open. She could smell the forest, but it was crisper and sharper than it should have been.
“Stay with me, Grace.” Torr’s voice. Then a heavy pounding and cracking sound.
Her whole body was numb, but she could tell she was moving. She didn’t know how.
“Open your eyes, honey. Show me you’re okay.” Was that panic she heard in his voice?
Grace tried to comply but couldn’t remember how. She couldn’t even remember how to tell him she was sorry she’d let him down.
Lethargy fell over her like a lead blanket. She had to sleep now. There was no other choice.
• • •
It had been a long time since Torr had needed to build a fire without matches. The one that burned now in the mouth of the shallow cave he’d found wasn’t his best work, but it was putting off plenty of heat, and that was all he needed.
