Page 93 of The Heartless Archer

It looked impossible for its girth to fit through the narrow tunnels she travelled through but how did it end up here anyway?

Her leg started to burn and she felt her heartbeat pulse from the wound. Her gaze flew back to the creature who was licking its right leg and her eyes sharpened in on what lay behind it. The small stone island with all the gold and weapons scattered through until she saw the sword embedded into the stone. The dragon was still distracted and Noora slowly stood up, drawing her knife into a softer slab of stonewall to balance herself. When she probed how much her leg could take, she bit her lip until it burst open as the pain almost made her pass out.

If she took out the talon she would surely bleed to death before she could even make it to that stone island with the precariously looking bridge. If she left the talon in, she might die from the pain of it. With another quick look at the hurting dragon, she drew her bow and squinted one eye, eliminating the doubled picture she had of the creature. She exhaled slowly. The dragon’s tongue lolled out again, slowly driving over the wound of his lost talon and something lilac glinted between the rosy gums. Its teeth. Noora froze.

She put her arrow down in haste and ripped the cord from around her neck the lilac crystal glinting in front of her eyes. No, it was not a lilac crystal, it was a tooth.

A rumble vibrated through the cave and Noora’s head flew up to see the creature’s eyes drawn into slits, its jaw revealed, triangle ears drawn back.

“You want this?” she called. She dangled the necklace provocatively, watching the creature's eyes follow themovement desperately. Noora slowly dropped into a crouch, careful to leave the weight from her right leg. “Come and get it, bastard.”

The monster charged but this time she was prepared. Noora threw the necklace as high as she could just as the dragon was almost at her and then she charged forward with a pained cry, sliding right under the dragon’s body.

The creature caught the tooth between its jaw and went for where Noora was crouching a moment ago only to come up with empty air. It whirled around in rage but Noora had already drawn an arrow and a moment later it was whizzing through the air. She turned and broke out into a run without waiting to see if it hit true. The wailing roar that shook the rubble around her was answer enough as she stumbled forward. Bones cracked under boots as she took the bone bridge and a skull came loose for a moment, making her tumble and free fall. This was it, she was going to fall and hit her head on the stone ground, her skull cracked, and brain matter scattered around her body.

The impact came but from an unexpected direction. Noora’s eyes flew open and she realised someone was grasping her arm. “I got you!” Small, frail Sören called as he held on to her from on the bone bridge. Her heart hammered so hard in her chest that she could not believe she was still alive. “Hold on!” he yelled again as her hand started to slip from the sweat gathering between them. She shook her head desperately; she would not be able to hold on. Her right leg was growing numb and she just did not have it in her to climb back up. Why was she still fighting? She fought violently and proved what she needed to prove, for the gods sake she even sunk as low as to use her heritage and magic to survive these inhumane trials.

Dark ocean eyes flashed in front of her vision, reflecting in the depths of Sörens face, he looked at her desperately needing her to keep on fighting. His other hand went for herwrist, pulling but not succeeding as the dragon somehow got the arrow out of its left eye. It was now focusing on them both, snapping its jaw. Slowly but surely its wings started to flap. It was going to pick them up from the bridge and devour them in sweet revenge.

“You need to let me go,” Noora yelled but Sören shook his head groaning.

“I won’t,” he protested and pulled again. Suddenly his fair hair grew and turned into red golden strands, olive skin dotted with freckles. Lulva appeared in front of her, her eyes glinting with wonder and pride as she handed her the dates.

“I WON’T BE ABLE TO PULL YOU UP ALONE, NOORA. YOU NEED TO HELP ME!” Sören screamed over the roar of the dragon who now took flight. Noora spit the blood from her mouth and nodded helplessly. “All right.” She nodded dizzily. “All right, pull again. Now!”

Sören pulled with all his might, the tendrils in his neck bulging and Noora drew her leg up, the talon still embedded. A blood-curdling scream left her lips as pain exploded inside her but she still managed to jam the boot of her injured leg into the opened mouth of a skull. With her help, Sören managed to drag her up on the narrow bridge. A groan left her lips as she landed on her back, something sharp digging into the bottom of her ribs. She could not tell if it was her own bone from within or a broken bone from the bridge.

There was no time to gather her wits as they both stumbled up to their feet, grasping their hands as they broke out into a sprint. The dragon missed them only by a second, its wings dragging it not far enough to reach them on the bridge. Sören pulled her forward as she turned over her back to see that the dragon’s wings were pierced with various holes. It would not be able to reach them once they landed on the treasure-filled island. They stumbled on blindly as the vexed dragon growledin frustration and finally reached their haven. Sören inhaled sharply as he stumbled to his hands and knees and Noora followed his example, though she started to heave, her lungs feeling short from exploding into shards.

Her head spun desperately until she could not hold back anymore and vomited over the edge of the island.

“Heaven,” Sören murmured and she turned her head to look at him, drawing her sleeve over her mouth. His skin was white as a sheet and his eyes narrowed on her leg. “Your leg,” he said, horrified. His face turned an alarming shade of green, though he seemed to be able to keep his stomach contents at bay.

Noora almost did not want to look down at her leg. She let herself fall until she was sitting, right leg stretched out onto gold coins. The skin around the talon was raised and an angry red, blood was still pooling from the puncture and she realised that she would not be able to survive if she left it in any longer. Whatever this creature was made of its talon felt like poison.

“Sören,” her voice strained, “look away.” Either Sören trusted her wits or he could already imagine what she was about to do. Her hands shook as they slowly slid around the smooth talon, her fingers could not even meet as they tried to grasp for a hold on it. Her skin was slippery with sweat and blood and she quickly let go of it, rubbing her skin on her trousers until they were dry and scrubbed from dead skin. With a deep breath, she took the talon in her hands again and pulled.

A tortured wail left her lips as she pulled out the talon of her skin, slowly, inch by inch, her flesh squelching as blood drained out of her like a flood drowning a town. Tears streamed down her face as she cried out and the relief she felt as the sharp object finally left her body.

The talon clattered and clinked into the coins just like Noora’s body did. Her vision turned and turned until she feltlike she was stuck along a carousel of Hel. Black spots marred the sides of her vision until a pale face appeared in front of her. His mouth was moving desperately but she could not make out his words. Instead, she closed her eyes slowly. Yes, that felt good. Maybe she could rest for a little until she was ready to fight again. That sounded like a good plan—until she was bathed in a fire so icy it could only have originated in the depths of Hel. Her eyes flew open and sound droned back in as she registered what happened.

“Did you just splash my face with water?” She asked Sören perplexed who held a small drinking bottle in his charred hands. His frail shoulders were drawn up as a grimace distorted his face. “Yes?” His voice wobbled slightly.

Noora sighed. She slowly sat up again and almost passed out from the pain. She held out her hand and Sören quickly gave her the bottle. She took a few desperate swallows until slowly tipping it over her leg. She would not dare look at it again for fear she might pass out again. She tasted blood as she bit her lip at the burning pain but once the puncture was clean it would get better. “We need to get out of here or I will be one leg lighter.” She used her teeth to rip apart one shirt sleeve and wound it around her calf.

“But how? That dragon is more territorial than a hound of wolves,” Sören said. He was right, the dragon was still pacing, now only one eye left to focus on the two of them. Noora tightened the scrap of fabric around her leg groaning but she still pulled tighter until she felt like she might pass out again. This was the first time she was taking in her surroundings, stacks of gold piled as high as buildings were scattered around them, a sapphire dug into her bottom and she kicked it away. It was enough gold for her and Lulva to live another ten lives in this world. For a moment she tried to imagine it, walking out of this cave half beaten, not broken, she would just take Lulvaand leave. If she left this cave without the gold, she still had to go through a third trial but how worse could this third trial be? There was nothing worse than that moment.

Her gaze flew to the blade that was still embedded in the stone, the ruby glinting tentatively at her, almost shyly. She focused back on Sören who still looked a little green in the face.

“Help me up.” If possible, he turned even greener but he offered her his hand and with a groan the witch got onto her feet. She turned and walked up the mountain of gold ignoring the stabbing in her calf with every damning step she took.

“Noora?” Sören said hesitantly. She ignored him and used her hands to crawl up until she landed on the pedestal. “What are you doing? Don’t—”

Before he could finish the sentence, her hands grabbed the hilt and she pulled out the blade. For a moment it was eerily quiet in the cave, even the dragon seemed to stop its pacing, and a flood of euphoria spread through her body. A lonely gust of wind cooled the back of her neck and threw a few snowy strands of hair into her face.

She turned and half-walked and slid down the mountain of gold. “The moment you get the chance, you run and leave,” she told the frail boy who nodded desperately, soot smeared over the left side of his face. “Run, Sören, do you hear me? As fast as you can.”

She turned and strode over the bridge, this time the bones stayed intact as she took the path toward the waiting dragon. He was already growling again and ducking its lithe body, its shoulder blades digging against its wings.

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