Page 27 of The Shadow of Polaris

The Northern Goddess was guiding me, urging me to carry on when I teetered on the precipice.

Fight, Elpis! Fight back!

Biting harder against my lower lip, I struggled to pull free once more from the two unmoving men holding me down.

The whip flung through the air, and I shut myself down preparing for its impact.

It never came.

Screams of agony and shredding flesh rang out. The guards, flanking each side of me, rushed back towards where Frya had stood, leaving my wrists bruised and swollen. Rune ran to my side and pulled me up by my elbow, careful not to touch the tender, bleeding skin of my back.

The scene behind me was bloody and brutal- nearly as nightmarish as the vivid dreams I’d been having. A hand, missing its adjoining arm. A body mangled in the snow. Sprays of blood and shreds of fabric stained the bleached white snowpack.

Hela, squirming beneath a jet black beast, flailed and screamed as sharp fangs penetrated the gushing stump where her left hand used to be. The handle of the whip rolled to my feet.

“Arcturas, enough,” I commanded, straightening against the pain of my wounds.

The wolf stopped immediately, rushing to my side and sitting eagerly for her next order. The guards, now paralyzed by fear, simply stared at the horror. Their faces were spattered with crimson. The violet of their uniforms was stained an unsettling shade of brown. I uncurled my spine, neck cracking on each side.

Shadows slithered around me, extinguishing the starlight until the air was heavy with a deep, unending blackness. I closed my eyes, breathing in the rush of pain from the wounds across my back.

“Oh Lady Elpis, please, please help me. That.. that.. thing came out of nowhere. My hand! It’s gone. My hand.” The round woman rolled in the snow like a sausage, cradling her stump as she begged.

I continued forward until I towered over her, a violent glint refracting beneath the surface of my eyes. A rush of tingles bolted through me, and darkness leaked from every pore of my skin. Flames of jade and magenta licked between my fingers, wrapping themselves down the hilt of the whip until the entire length of it glowed like the northern borealis.

This time I welcomed the charge, the power. I didn’t run from it. I didn’t fear it. This electricity coursing through me had always been there. It was as much a part of me as my lungs or my stomach. Smiling with deadly sweetness, I lowered my gaze to the handmaiden and knelt before her. I tipped her chin up, forcing her eyes to meet mine. They were full of terror.

“Oh, my dear,” I spat, “you’ve broken a rule. Are you ready for your punishment?”

My voice, laced with shadows and smoke, interrupted her pleading sobs and forced her into silence.

I raised the whip and watched as the power emulating from my fingertips connected with its cold metal handle. The leather glimmered as I jerked my hand down and split it across Hela’s open jaw.

The glow spread to her skin as she dissolved like acid. In seconds, nothing but bones and burnt flesh remained.

Arcturas howled deeply towards the sky.

“They’re all yours, my friend.” As the words exited my mouth, she shot across the yard, lunging at the guards. The gleam of power fading from my palms, and the shadows receding back into my flesh, I reached for Rune. With wide eyes and shaking hands, he interlaced his fingers through mine and rose from the hedge he now hid behind.

Frya sat against the brick of the tavern’s exterior, her fingers white knuckled around the hem of her skirts.

“It’s okay,” I assured her, my voice my own again, “I won’t hurt you.”

She stammered, trying to find a response, but I hushed her and placed her hands in mine. The deafening sounds of two men being shredded apart consumed the night as I led her back into the tavern’s warmth.

Chapter 16

“I think we all could use a drink,” I said, wiping away the speckles of blood scattered across my brow.

Frya nodded, her complexion still ghostly. Glasses clinked beneath her quaking hands as she poured three bourbons. Draining hers, then refilling, she returned to where we sat, passing each of us our drinks. It wasn’t until we had finished two rounds did Arcturas trot inside, unrecognizable under scraps of sickly, grayish skin and dried blood.

Looking upon her, Frya gasped, her glass shattering across the floor. I jumped to collect the shards. Rune grabbed my wrist and pulled me back to my feet.

“Ell…Your back. It’s… it’s healed. There’s nothing but scars there.” He traced the patterns of raised, purple scar tissue across my skin.

Before I could lean into his touch, he jerked away, suddenly remembering who I truly was. I continued picking up the final shards of glass, hoping to distract myself from the feel of his fingers against my skin and the ripped tunic that now partially exposed my undergarments.

“I’m not really sure the extent of this power yet. It was enough to heal my wounds, I guess.” Beckoning Arcturas over, I started picking the flesh from her fur. Her blood-soaked paws left prints across the hardwood and Frya, scowling about her floors, hobbled to the kitchen for a bucket of warm water.

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