Hekla’s vision tunneled, a scream building deep inside her chest. This monster had tried to kill her. Had very nearly ended Eyvind’s life as well. And now it had taken Kritka.
This ended. Now.
She glanced over her shoulder, confirming that Eyvind had warriors at his back. And then her scream broke free as Hekla tore after the spider.
Chapter 63
Silla’s limbs quivered with exhaustion, her mind frantically churning through options. Her blast with Rey’s borrowed smoke magic had been meant to subdue the undead bear, but all it had managed was to singe the beast’s fur. She needed to get near enough, but how? Those claws were lethal and far faster than a mortal bear’s.
Rey had collapsed nearby in the grass, but a new warrior had taken his place to keep the mist at bay.Eyvind,she thought distantly, eyeing the fire pouring from his palms and shoving the mist back. Yet the awful burls continued to grow and burst, black sludge and endless mist pouring from within; that maddening heartbeat drumming on. Would the leech ever reach the end of its stores?
Silla’s muscles ached with exhaustion, her forearm throbbing where the bear’s claws had torn through her lébrynja jacket. She was dimly aware of her queensguard all around her—Hef, battling two vampire deer at once; Kálf and Erik battling droves of Turned foxes and grimwolves; and Runný guarding their backs, wielding her curious reflective shield to repel the surging creatures.
On Silla battled, her energy waning as she searched for any path to victory. She knew Myrkur could end her with barely a thought—she could feel Him feeding on the chaos all around them. He was enjoying this. And though she knew the god toyed with her—that He’d shown her but a fraction of His strength—Silla had no choice but to keep fighting.
Silla ducked beneath a surge of black flames, heat searing through her jacket. But the bear had paused to loose the flames, and shock rippled through her. The bear stood upright. Here was her chance. Silla couldn’t allow herself to second-guess it.
Time seemed to slow. The last rays of sunlight poured through the trees as Silla threw herself onto her stomach and slid on the wet grass. Black flames powered above her, unbearably hot. Her hair singed…her skin seemed on fire, but this was her only chance.
She gritted her teeth against the agony of the flames blazing inches above her. With a scream of rage, Silla channeled her anger at this god for the misery He’d put her through; for the bargain He’d tricked her mother into; for the way He’d preyed on her great-grandfather.
Time sped back up, the world becoming a blur.
Silla stretched one hand out and clamped it onto the bear’s lower hind paw. Its fur was coarse, the smell horrific, but Silla found the place of peace in her mind and let her senses stretch out, reaching, searching for…nothing. Where was Myrkur’s magic? She could not sense it.
It took her a moment to realize the black flames had burned out, and by the time she did, it was too late. The bear crashed down onto all fours and swatted her.
It was a casual gesture, a mere flick of the paw, but it was laced with the power of a god. Silla flew through the air and crashed to the ground with jarring force.
For a moment, she lay there. Let herself pretend she hadn’t just lost all hope. Then she heaved herself up onto shaky feet and tried to comprehend. She’d done the impossible—had laid hands on the bear—and yet there’d been no galdur for her to siphon. Tears gathered in her eyes as the bear loosed a long, low growl.
“No,” pleaded Silla, despair thrashing inside her. She couldn’t siphon the dark god’s magic—she couldn’t evensenseit.
Of course she couldn’t. Silla now realized what she ought to have known from the start. Myrkur’s magic was not the same as what flowed in her veins; as what shimmered inside each magicalcreature in this realm. They were the Ashen, created when Sunnvald’s ashes fell upon the world. Myrkur was the opposite—a being of disorder and destruction.
The bear prowled toward her with lethal intent.
Now you understand, Eisa,growled Myrkur, taking a step forward for each one Silla retreated.You’ve made a bargain you cannot win.And in this moment, she sensed something had changed. Gone was the god’s amusement—His contentment to toy with her.
Here was His satisfaction.
The full force of Myrkur’s presence assaulted her, and Silla felt herself fracturing, cracks spreading like spiderwebs through all her defenses. She reached for her hearthfire thoughts—for the faintest thread of hope to grab onto. But like a dam broken, Myrkur’s barrage was a wild, unstoppable thing.
It was fun while it lasted,purred Myrkur, the bear’s rancid breath meeting her nose.Surrender your bloodline gift to me.
You’ll have to win it, as we agreed, Silla pushed back, staggering against Myrkur’s relentless assault on her mind.
The god’s fury lashed through her, battering her from within.I am winning, dear Eisa. I will tear you apart, one thought at a time. I will break you from within. Turn you into a useless shell.
More power flowed into her, and she felt herself splintering. Whereas the shard of Myrkur which had lived inside her had prodded and scraped at her mind, now the god of chaos ripped through it with talons. Silla screamed, clutching her head, and fell to her knees with the force of His onslaught.
I thought you’d be more like Signe,He seethed.I thought you’d see our potential together. Do you not have ambition? Do you not crave the queendom for yourself? I can make that happen.
Silla gasped for breath. Wrangled her words.I would not have the fear of my people, she barely managed.I would have their love.
Disgusting, Myrkur hissed, but Silla sensed that for the first time, He finally understood. It was never a matter of biding his time, nor a matter of finding the right incentive. Silla simply would never partner with Him.
Do you know what will happen once you’re gone, Eisa?Myrkur cackled, and the sound was like needles piercing her skull. With no Volsiks left in the realm, Sunnvald’s so-called weapon to oppose me will be gone. I’ll be unstoppable.
