“Bastards!” howled Erik.
“Shore up!” barked Rey. “We break and we die!”
Their semicircle tightened with one less amongst them. Serpent corpses were piled all around, forming a protective wall of sorts. But Silla’s stomach knotted as another idea settled into place.
“Trapped,” Silla warned. “She can pick us off!”
“Burn through them,” Rey ordered Kálf and Nefi.
As the Ashbringers got to work, the stench of burned flesh overwhelmed her senses, but Silla remained focussed on the mother serpent, lunging down from above. She slashed her sword upward, the mother recoiling just in time. And then, she was striking again, and Silla’s sword sliced through the air, connectingwith hard scales. The impact reverberated through her, yet it was enough to make the mother jerk back.
“Kálf,” bellowed Rey, jostled from behind as Erik stumbled into him, “we’re running out of time.”
“Almost…there…” was Kálf’s labored reply.
The mother struck down, and Rey yanked Silla back, the pair tumbling to the ground and out of striking distance. But it seemed the great serpent had found prey all the same. A glinting fang plunged into Nefi’s back, hauling him upward. Dumbstruck, Silla stared into Nefi’s terror-widened eyes.
“No!” she screamed, leaping to her feet and grabbing Nefi’s foot. The mother serpent wrenched back, Nefi’s boot slipping through Silla’s fingers. Horror and revulsion clenched in her stomach as the hatchlings rushed below the mother, fighting for their prize. But then she was being dragged through a tunnel of putrid, burned corpses. As they stumbled into fresh, cool air, Silla sucked it in by the lungful.
Her relief was short-lived. The corner of her vision shadowed. Rey’s blade whizzed through the air with preternatural speed, blocking the mother serpent’s renewed attack.
“Stay behind me!” he bellowed as the enormous serpent reared up. From this angle, Silla could see a black line running under the mother serpent’s under-jaw—the wound her galdur had delivered in Jökull’s lake. But revulsion quickly overtook the slim measure of satisfaction as she saw the scrap of black armor dangling from the mother’s fang. Nefi.
Anger burned low in her stomach. A hatchling lashed out, Silla’s sword moving with pure instinct, sinking into its underbelly. Whirling, Silla placed her back to Rey’s.
“You take the hatchlings,” growled Rey. “I’ll handle the mother.” Smoke stripped up from his hands, building and coiling above into a churning storm. Sweat beaded Silla’s brow as heat radiated from the fiery tempest, ash raining down on the snow-covered ground. She widened her stance and braced herself as a trio of hatchlings surged forward.
Behind her, the mother screeched, and Silla felt a rush of air as she slashed out at the smaller serpents. Rey had rooted himself into the ground, yelling with his exertion. Above, the storm of smoke spun tighter until it took on a serpentine shape. Flesh sizzled, the mother shrieking once more.
Another hatchling struck out, Silla responding without a breath to spare. It was pure chaos. Silla caught sight of Kálf, lashing a fire whip at a serpent bearing down on Erik from behind—Mýr cleaving one beast in half with Blade Breakerstrength while two other beasts closed in on her from either side. But as the minutes passed, and Rey’s grunts grew more irritated, Silla’s worry festered.
“What are you doing back there?” Silla demanded. “Roast her, Galtung!” She glanced over her shoulder. Singed black scales were patched along the mother serpent’s body, but it seemed only to have incensed her anger.
“Thank you for that,” he growled. “I hadn’t considered it.”
Silla slashed through a lunging serpent. “What’s the problem?
“She’s too fast.”
“You need to get closer,” she said, an idea taking form. “You need a diversion.” A hand wrapped around Silla’s arm, squeezing gently.
“What do you need?” asked Runný.
“Guard Rey’s flank,” said Silla in a low voice. She eyed the mother serpent. “You want me, don’t you, spawn of Myrkur?” The mother’s enormous, forked tongue slid out, those glowing ember eyes honed in on Silla. “Such a tasty Volsik. But you’ll have to catch me.”
And then Silla ran.
She felt, more than heard, the mother take chase. The ground shook with each clumsy undulation as the mother plowed after her. Silla dodged and ducked and slashed her way through hatchlings. Behind her, Runný cried out and Rey bellowed in rage. Silla cast an anxious glance over her shoulder and stumbled.
His storm of smoke seemed to have evaporated as Rey clung to the serpent’s back, legs flailing with each surge of her body. One hand slipped, and he held on to a single pale-blue scale. The mother serpent paused, head whirling in search of the pest on her back.
“Stop!” yelled Silla. The mother whipped around, nostrils flaring. But besides the giant serpent, dozens of smaller red eyes turned to her as well.
“Not tasty,” Silla said, backing away. “I lied! I taste like old socks!” She glanced at the mother—Rey had regained his grip and was shimmying up the mother’s neck. Just a little farther, and he’d be right where he needed to be…
Silla turned and ran.
The ground rumbled as the mother took chase, her offspring not far behind. Hissing set the hairs on her neck on end, and she glanced over her shoulder once more. Rey had reached the mother’s head, ash and smoke coiling up from his raised palm.
