Filed to story: A Fate Inked In Blood Free
“It would seem that-” Bjorn cut off as the air stirred.
Hot mist swirled around my face as though the mountain had taken a deep breath. As though the mountain had…awakened.
“Fuck,” Bjorn whispered.
I squeezed through the tight spot to where he stood. Only to have my jaw drop. The stairs beneath his feet glimmered with coins and cups of silver and gold, rubies and emeralds winking in the axe’s light.
The stolen treasure, and if that part of the story was true, then-
A scream pierced the darkness. Then another and another.
Great shuddering shrieks coming from every direction and none. Voices beyond number, their howls full of grief and pain and rage. Drums not of this world took the place of screams, the rapid rhythm punctuated by sounds of footfalls. Not boots or shoes or even the slap of bare feet, but the scratch of…of bones against stone.
And they were coming closer.
“Run!” I gasped, but Bjorn had already locked his hand around my wrist, dragging me upward.
Terror chased away my exhaustion and I took the steps three at a time, shield bouncing against my back. The stairs ended, and Bjorn cut right down a narrow tunnel, dragging me with him.
Then he slid to a stop.
I collided with him, his chain mail digging into my forehead as my skull bounced off his shoulder. Stunned, I looked past him.
Part of me wished I hadn’t.
Four skeletal figures raced toward us, their forms illuminated by a strange green light. Scraps of leather and armor hung from their bony forms, chilling war cries echoing out of their gaping jaws, teeth blackened and foul. But the weapons in their hands gleamed brilliant bright, as though even in death the draug cared for them.
Twisting, I looked back the way we’d come, but the same green light illuminated the stairs, drums and footfalls growing louder by the second.
We were trapped.
“Freya,” Bjorn said, unhooking his shield from his shoulder, “get ready to fight.”
Ripping my own shield off my back, I drew my sword and then invoked Hlin’s name. Magic flared over my shield as draug exploded from the stairwell. My back to Bjorn’s, I widened my stance and braced, fetid steam filling my mouth with every rapid breath I took.
Empty eye sockets fixed on me, more of their awful screams shattering the air as they surged forward, weapons raised.
“Born-in-Fire,” I whispered, then screamed my own battle cry.
A draug threw itself at me, and for a heartbeat I thought my magic would fail. That the draug would slam through my shield, fingers clawing and teeth gnashing. But the silver glow was the power of a goddess, and it was as though it took hold of the draug and flung it with the strength of Hlin herself.
The draug sailed through the air, smashing into those behind it. Righting themselves, the creatures crouched on all fours, hissing like beasts. Except instead of attacking again, the draug bent their heads together, and my hopes that they were mindless entities disappeared like smoke. Cursed and skeletal as they were, some of the warriors they’d once been remained.
Sweat slicked my palms as one of them leapt, clinging to the ceiling, its neck bending backward unnaturally so that it could watch me as it prowled closer. Another clung to the wall, finger bones slipping into cracks in the stone, knife clenched between its teeth. But it was the largest, which strode with heavy scraping strides, that led their attack.
My breath came in too-quick pants, and it took all my willpower not to retreat. Not that there was anywhere to go. Behind me, Bjorn grunted with effort as he battled screeching draug, but I dared not look. Not when he was trusting me to guard his back.
The draug moved closer. My shield was nowhere near wide enough to block the width of the tunnel, and my attention skipped from the one on the ceiling to the one on the wall to the one striding upright, its jaw cracking open in a parody of a grin.
Step. The bones of his feet scraped on the stone. Step.
It tensed, preparing to attack.
But it was the one on the ceiling that moved.
I shifted my shield, clenching my teeth as he rebounded off it, barely managing to move my arm in time to knock back the one that sprang from its perch on the wall.
And not nearly fast enough for the third.
His sword slashed past the right edge of my shield. I jerked my own blade up to parry and the impact of his weapon against mine sent me staggering. He swung again, and my arm shuddered as I knocked it away.
Beyond, the other draug were back on their feet, and more had exited from the stairwell, the stink of rot wafting ahead of them.
The big draug tried again to slice at me. This time, I blocked the blow with my shield. My magic sent the weapon flying out of his hand, and I took advantage, thrusting my sword toward his heart.
Only for the weapon to pass right through the creature as though it were no more than air.
The shock cast me off balance, and I staggered.
Right into the draug’s grasp.
Its skeletal fingers closed around my throat, mouth stretching wide to reveal blackened teeth as it pulled me toward it. Pain lanced down my neck, my lungs desperately trying to draw in breath, and beyond, the other draug moved to take advantage.