Page 98 of Blood of Wolves

They were fast, but not as fast as a dragon.

He grinned to himself, and touched Percy’s flanks with his heels.

~*~

Tessa pushed up from the floor, where she’d wound up on her knees after tripping over something she’d rather not think about, and lifted her sword in shaking, burning arms, searching for the next attack. It took a moment, because of the loud rush of blood in her ears, for her to realize that the only sounds echoing off the stone walls were panted breaths and faint groans. That, for the moment, everyone was still.

Her voice cracked when she spoke, dry as parchment. “Is – is it over?”

No one answered her. Aeretollean soldiers crowded the hall from both sides, now, and Revna – Revna had dropped her sword, and clutched the front of Bjorn’s tunic with white-knuckled fists, her face pressed to his chest, her shoulders shaking as he petted her hair and back, the touch shockingly gentle for such large hands. In the aftermath of chaos, it felt like a moment too intimate to witness, but one which filled Tessa with hope.

She turned her head, and that hope waned when she saw the floor was a sea of dented gold and blood. Amidst the carnage, a scrap of green velvet, a dark braid set with silver beads. Estrid’s friend, Tessa realized with a sick lurch, the poor girl whose name she still didn’t remember.

Estrid sat against the far wall with her knees pulled up, a hand clasped over her left eye. Disheveled, dress torn, but on her feet, Hilda stood over her, a hand on her shoulder, face creased with weariness and worry.

Tessa made her clumsy way toward them, tripping over bodies and her own skirts, the sword dragging behind like a lead weight.

Estrid lifted her head when she reached them, hand still covering her eye. Blood stained her cheek, a jagged gash splitting the skin above her brow, all the way down to her jaw. Tessa gasped when she saw it.

And Estrid, face white with exhaustion, eyelid drooping, managed a bloodstained smile – one that, for once, wasn’t cruel at all. Neither was her voice when she croaked out, “Don’t worry, my lady. You’re not rid of me yet.”

Tessa’s eyes stung with tears, and Hilda turned to her, tutting. “It’s all right, my dove,” she said, wrapping her up in a crushing hug that smelled of sweat, and blood, and was comforting beyond measure. “We Northern lasses don’t break so easily.” She chuckled. “And neither do you.”

When she’d composed herself, wiped her eyes and nose on her sleeve and dragged her emotions back from the edge, she realized how exhausted she was. How sore, and weak. But, at Hilda’s urging, she moved to Estrid’s other side, and together they hoisted her to her feet. Estrid made a low, pained noise.

“Did we hurt you?” Tessa asked.

Estrid dropped her hand to let Hilda duck beneath her arm, and Tessa fought not to recoil from the ruin of her eye. “No,” she said. “Just – sore.”

Bjorn sent a party of men back down the tunnels to secure them and ensure no more Sels lurked in any of the storage chambers or baths. Revna, red-eyed but dry-faced, squared her shoulders, wiped her sword clean on her cloak, sheathed it, and led them back toward the great hall.

Bjorn’s eyes popped wide when he spotted Tessa. “And what areyoudoing down here scrapping with the wolves, Little Drake?”

Estrid barked a short, harsh laugh as they helped her along. “The stubborn fool wouldn’t be left behind.”

“Youwere the one who handed me a sword,” Tessa reminded, sourly, and Estrid laughed again.

Tessa wanted to laugh, too. Nerves, she supposed; she felt giddy inside, like when she’d drunk too much champagne at the Hope Hall winter ball, bubbly and euphoric. She realized she was grinning, and tried to tamp it down.

Bjorn laid one of his huge hands on her shoulder and squeezed. “It’s only natural,” he said, as if reading her thoughts. “You lived. Grief comes later, but for now, it’s enough to be on your feet.”

She sent him a grateful look.

They reached the hall, and ahead of them, Revna cursed.

“Shit,” Estrid echoed, when they drew up alongside her.

A boulder the size of a pony had cracked a trestle table in two. The other tables were littered with debris: stone and timber rubble, a thick coating of pale dust. Where the grand double doors had once stood, a gaping hole allowed in a blast of cold wind, and offered a view of the bailey, its catapults, and milling soldiers – and another hole, this one wider, in the outer wall.

Estrid walked forward with renewed strength, towing Tessa along, and Tessa went willingly, drawn helplessly toward the strange, refracted light in the wall’s void. It glittered, and sparkled, and the view of the field beyond was all in fractured panes, like stained glass, it was…

She gasped.

Revna said, “Gods, that’sice.”

And it was. The hole in the wall was filled up with ice. And set within it, like insects preserved in amber, were gold-armored Sels, caught mid-motion.

“What in the fuck did that?” Bjorn asked, as stunned as the rest of them.

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