Page 9 of A Curse Carved in Bone
Tora thrashed, lost in fear and trying to get away. I clung to her like a barnacle, fingers latched around her chest and my legs around her waist.
Unable to swim, we sank beneath the surface.
Desperate to breathe, I caught hold of her face and met her eyes. Willed her to understand what was happening as we slipped deeper.
Fins and bubbles roared around us. But Tora was a warrior and before my eyes, she mastered her fear and nodded once.
I released my legs from around her waist, and holding hands to keep my magic in place, we kicked our way to the surface.
To discover we’d been pushed even farther from the shore.
“They’re going to drown us,” Tora gasped, flinching as another whale attempted to close its jaws around my legs only to be cast aside, waves surging. “We have to kill them!”
“No!” I choked on a mouthful of water. “It’s not their fault! He’s making them do this!”
“Then we’re going to die!”
Tora jerked her hand free, and the glow of my magic disappeared. I grabbed her shoulder, and in a heartbeat she was once again aglow. She pressed her palms together and then cursed. “I need your magic off my hands!”
I shook my head. “You can’t. You can’t kill them.”
“We’ve no choice!”
She was right. It was the whales’ lives or ours.
Tears ran down my cheeks, and knowing I’d never forgive myself for this moment, I withdrew my magic from Tora’s hands.
The pod of orcas closed in, drawn by the magic of Njord’s blood.
“Freya!” I screamed, but a hand closed on the back of my tunic, preventing me from swimming to her.
I shoved Harald away, but he lunged at me again. “Look!” he shouted. “Look!”
A familiar silver glow flared as Freya caught hold of Tora’s still form and covered her with magic just before one of the whales struck. My heart stuttered with certainty they were both lost, then the whale flipped through the air. The rest of the pod closed in, but the glow didn’t diminish. I couldn’t see her through the spray of water and flash of fins, but with each passing second, she drifted farther out to sea. And the whales would continue attacking until she was drowned. Not because they wanted to but because the child of Njord bid them.
Fury boiled in my chest, and I turned to look past the battle on the beach to the two men standing behind the line of driftwood. One had copper hair and a beard that stretched nearly down to his large belly. The other was as tall as me and uglier than a cat’s arsehole. Bothunfated. Both pointing at Freya and Tora, and I saw the words their mouths formed.
Shield maiden.
The child of Njord nodded and lifted his hands, his long beard blowing on the wind. His gaze focused on Freya and he drove the whales at her again. Willing to harm as many of the creatures as necessary to see her dead, because even in Islund, they knew of my mother’s prophecy.
“You are going to die,” I whispered. “And die badly.”
I swam for the beach, the waves flinging me toward shore as though Njord himself saw fit to end the abuse of the creatures of the sea. Skade lay still on the sand with Steinunn next to her, trying to rouse her. I ignored both and raced up the beach, picking up a fallen shield as I ran.
The roar of the sea mixed with the clash of steel and cries of warriors locked in merciless combat. The beach stretched wide before me, the sands slick with blood from the dead and dying. An Islunder swung an axe at me, but I only blocked it and ran on, weaving between comrades and foes caught in a deadly dance, my eyes on the child of Njord.
He paid me no mind, focused on the whales while Arkyn called lightning down upon those still in the water, both secure behind their guard of warriors. They believed me in Skaland, which meant they thought Skade and Tora the only weapons in Harald’s war band who could stand against their magic.
They thought wrong.
“Tyr.” I leaped over a still body, its guts mixing with the drying seaweed. The warriors guarding the pair finally took notice of me, but it was too late. “Grant me your flame.”
My axe manifested in my hand. It was cool to my flesh, but I did not miss the way the Islunders recoiled from the heat. Or the way their eyes widened, lips parting to shout, “The Firehand!”
I attacked, screams filling my ears even as the sizzle of burning blood attacked my nose. I hated the smell. It haunted my dreams, a nightmare I couldn’t escape, but in this moment, I relished it. Warriors fellbeneath my blows, clutching severed limbs that did not bleed, the stink of charred flesh intensifying.
Arkyn lifted his hands and lightning crackled between them. The bolt lanced out and exploded against my axe, god against god. The impact drove me a step back, the noise deafening. The glare so brilliant it left spots in my eyes.
