Solveig was magnificently holding her own against the monster. The idea grew into an almost plan, one that rivalled Solveig’s vine across the chasm.
Rain fell on the mighty warrior as she battled the sea serpent amid the crashing waves of the unforgiving ocean. Westley dug deep within himself and pulled a tidal wave from its depths, rocking their ship but also throwing Jormungandr off balance.
It screeched again, thrown off its next strike, and plunged back into the sea, giving Westley a moment to replenish and prepare for what would probably be his death. As long as Solveig survived, that’s all that mattered.
Even before the Block, he’d had very little success changing the form of the magic he controlled. It was easier when Easta fought alongside him, using her wind to freeze his water. But water was his element, his to master, and that meant in all forms.
It may be foolish, but he closed his eyes and pictured what he wanted to happen, visualised it so he was prepared when he called to Solveig’s mind.
I have an idea.He showed her his plan.
That looks about as stupid as my swinging vine across the chasm.
He laughed at the similarity in their thoughts.It worked, didn’t it?
She shook her head, a playful smirk appearing on her perfect mouth before she turned her focus on the water.
When Jormungandr resurfaced, Westley threw all his might to raise wave after wave, each one reaching higher and higher. He froze them one by one so Solveig could climb to the top.
She jumped from frozen wave to frozen wave, barely touching one before leaping to the next. Westley’s heart lurched and his magic gave way as she slipped, his lack of concentration thawing the ice. Westley strained, doubling his efforts as he caught her and sent her to the next wave.
Up and up until she was a Valkyrie, flying through the air.
Just one more, she directed.
His body was weak with exertion, but he pulled more from his nearly empty well of magic, using every last drop he had.
Jormungandr tried to attack the wave of water that practically reached Valhalla, it was so high. As soon as Solveig leapt onto it and then onto the sea serpent’s head, Westley let the wave go.
It came crashing down, but he had nothing left to control its flow. The ship was thrown with the momentum of the tidal wave, sending him flying. He was in the air, helpless as he watched Solveig raise the small hammer she’d taken from Booth.
Lightning from the storm seemed to connect to her, to the hammer, and straight into Jormungandr’s head as she brought it down. The serpent’s entire body lit up with the electricity, and its shrieks were the last thing Westley heard before he crashed into the sea.
Solveig braced herself atop the electrified serpent’s head as it flailed, squirming from the strength of her attack.
Her heart followed the trajectory of Westley’s plummet into the water. She needed to get to him. This was the stupid part of the plan. She had no way down.
She knew that if she dove from this height, the impact would be like colliding with stone, killing her instantly. Her quick healing bodywouldn’t have time to work its magic. There was only one choice—she could not let her mate die.
Taking a deep breath, she counted. One. Two. Three. Without giving it a second thought, she launched herself down the still-thrashing sea serpent’s body.
The wind picked up, and her momentum grew as she used its body like a slide, careening towards their ship’s scattered remains. Wind whistled in her ears, the sound deafening as she flew down with accelerating speed.
To slow her descent, she palmed her dagger and stabbed it into the snake, dragging it along its body as she plummeted towards the sea. Its roars of pain grew louder, and Solveig didn’t know how that was possible, but she didn’t care. She was singularly focused on Westley.
Bracing herself to jump off when she reached the water, she brought light to her hands. The serpent’s tail curled upwards and she was forced to continue its trajectory, whipping upside down until she too was falling into the depths of the ocean alongside the dying legendary monster.
Solveig hit the water, remembering at the last second to take a deep breath. Westley had been down for a long time—hopefully he’d had enough magic to create an air bubble for himself so he could breathe.
The waves of the stormy sea kept crashing into her, trying to swallow her whole. Cold seeped into her bones the deeper she went, but it was no use struggling against the grip of the sea when she didn’t know which way was up.
She had one chance to escape the watery grave.
Igniting her hand in light, she shot it in every direction. When the way up illuminated, she kicked like mad, her legs screaming with exhaustion, lungs burning for breath. Her vision sparked with dots, and just as she felt the hazy edges of unconsciousness, her head broke the surface.
Never would she take breathing for granted again as she sucked in the rainy air in big gulps.
“WESTLEY!” she screamed into the abyss of dark water. Solveig whipped her head in all directions, her sopping wet hair slapping against her face. The waves continued to crash into her, making it impossible to stay above water for long. Each time she resurfaced, she was disoriented.
