by Lou Anders
Thianna placed the horn to her lips and blew.
Karn was surprised when no sound came. He and Thianna were both surprised when all three wyverns grimaced and howled and plunged their heads to the ground at their own feet. The three women could barely control their mounts.
“I thought it didn’t work,” said Thianna.
“Too high-pitched a sound for us. Not for them.”
Thianna nodded.
“Not too high-pitched for the mountain either, I’m hoping.”
“The mountain?” asked Thianna.
The snow directly below them creaked; then a chunk of the mountainside came loose.
Karn’s grip on Thianna’s arm tightened and he hauled her backward.
“Upslope!” he yelled. “Move! Fast!”
They scrambled to get as far uphill as possible, while mere footsteps below them, the mountainside was erupting in churning powder.
Karn had a glimpse of the beasts and their riders as they were swept away in a surging current of white—and then he had his own problems. The ground under his feet was beginning to give way as well, sucked down by the shifting snow downslope.
While Sydia and her minions had no experience in snowy climes, every true son or daughter of the north knew what to do in an avalanche. Hanging on to each other tightly, Karn and Thianna struggled to make their way upslope and away from the center of the flow of snow. But fissures were running through the ice, huge sections tearing loose and shifting away. They had only gone a few paces when the ground under them gave out.
Karn’s grip on Thianna’s arm was torn loose as his legs flew out from under him. He landed on his back, but immediately flipped himself over onto his stomach. He drove his fists into the snow, trying to anchor himself, but everything under him was moving.
Karn fought hard, swimming as if he were in the sea, trying to stay atop the crest of the wave of snow. To stay atop was to stay alive.
He couldn’t see a thing—there was almost as much powder in the air as there was beneath him—and then the light diffused further as he went under.
Frantically, he thrust his arms out, punching his way to the surface and air, sliding like a human sled down the slope. The bulk of the avalanche had been below, but he was still in danger. He swam again, fighting to stay afloat.
He felt the snow start to slow down. Finally, he came to a rest. He lay still, trying not to disturb the snow around him while he caught his breath, and was totally unprepared when a huge wave crashed over him.
Karn struggled to curl up into a ball around his own arms, an effort to make as big an air pocket as he could. He was encased in a soft, white glow. Buried alive.
The Cliff
“Get up, Karn.”
Karn gasped with relief as the snow above him was shoveled away. He looked up into Thianna’s big face as the giantess scooped up handfuls of powder in her bare hands.
“This is the second time I’ve rescued you. I’m going to have to start charging.”
“You rescued me?” said Karn indignantly. He sat up. “I seem to recall you being menaced by three angry lizards and their riders.”
“Yeah, well, get on up. We can argue about who rescued who later.”
Karn grabbed Thianna’s arm and allowed her to haul him out of the snow.
“You weren’t buried?” he asked the girl as he clambered to his feet.
“I’m a frost giant,” she replied in a way that said she thought he was being an idiot. “We bodysurf in this stuff. For fun.”
Karn grunted and looked around.
“Where’s Sydia and her lackeys?”
“Somewhere in that.” Thianna pointed downslope at the newly settled mounds of snow. There was no sign of anyone.
“Think they made it?”
“I’m not waiting around to find out.”
“Agreed.”
They made their way carefully out of the bowl, heading sideways, not down. If angry wyverns were going to be bursting up from the powder shortly, they’d rather be elsewhere. The sun had set enough now that night was rapidly coming on. Soon Karn and Thianna wouldn’t be able to see anything downslope, but they would be hidden in its shadows. For the moment, they were safe.
After a short night and a long day of hiking south and east, Karn and Thianna were once again below the tree line. Where exactly they were below the tree line, though, was another matter.
“We’re lost,” said Karn.
“We’re not lost,” grumbled Thianna.
“So where are we?”
“Downhill from where we were.”
“That’s all you got?”
“What else do you need to know?” She turned around and pointed. “Sun’s over your left shoulder. Keep it there; you’ll be good.”
They kept on like that for a while, until they came to a cliff’s edge. Far below them, they could see sluggish, ice-choked waters flowing through a steep-sided valley.
“I think if we follow this, it will connect to the Argandfjord,” said Thianna. She was speaking of the glacier-carved inlet that marked the easternmost border of Norrøngard. The Argandfjord was the greatest of the fjords and separated both of their homelands from the vast and inhospitable Plains of the Mastodons to the east.
“You’ve been to the fjord?”
She shook her head.
“Magnilmir told me stories about mastodon hunts when he was young.”
Karn whistled. He couldn’t imagine anyone actually attacking one of the enormous creatures. But then, Thianna’s father was three times his size. He looked to the south.
“Hard to believe that we’ve come so far.”
“That’s usually what happens when you start walking in a direction and you don’t stop for days. You get somewhere.”
At Karn’s glare, she gave him an apologetic smile.
“Anyway,” he said, “this is way past the farthest I’ve ever been from home.”
“Yeah, I’m right with you there, Norrønboy,” Thianna said. “This is new territory for me too.”
They stood awhile atop the cliff, looking down at the breathtaking view. “You think the southlands have anything this grand?” he asked.
“How could they?” she replied.
Several days’ journey southward would lead them out of Norrøngard and into Araland, a land Karn only knew from tales of druids and warrior women. Rather than think about the adventures ahead, he found himself absorbing every detail of the walk, memorizing the features of his homeland for what was probably the last time.
At one point, they spotted a herd of reindeer drinking from the cold water. They would have welcomed the meat, but there was no easy way down to the valley below. Besides, they had no spears or bows, and swords would be useless for hunting the animals.
The temperature warmed as they progressed. Now the ice in the river thinned and the water swelled and picked up speed. The air was cold but clear and the sun shone bright above. Karn soon felt hot inside his clothes even as the exposed skin of his face froze. He saw that the frost giantess was sweating. She caught him staring and tossed her head.
“I’m fine,” she said. “Just takes getting used to, is all.”
It was as if there were two sides to Thianna, her giant side and her human side. Karn wondered if that was like playing a Thrones and Bones game against yourself. Being both winner and loser.
“It would be better if we could find a way down,” he said. The valley could offer them shelter and concealment, but so far the cliffs had been too sheer for them to risk the descent.
Picking up on his concern, Thianna said, “Still, we haven’t seen any sign of pursuit in a while.”
“You think maybe the avalanche …?”
“Maybe,” Thianna said. “Or maybe we just lost them.”
Karn was just opening his mouth to tell her not to jinx them when they heard the screech.
The blast of flame from the fire lance came right on their heels.
Karn threw himself aside, strikin
g the ground and rolling over. This was no warning shot. The rider had meant to kill.
The wyvern descended but didn’t land. It hovered over their heads, out of their reach. Rider and beast had survived the avalanche and learned to be wary of their quarry. Karn had a sword, for all the good it did him, but no bow, spear, or throwing ax. He remembered the artifact Thianna carried, and the seemingly painful effect it had on the creatures.
“Your horn!” he cried to Thianna. “Use your horn.”
The giantess fumbled at her pouch, but a second blast from the flame lance sent her leaping out of the way.
Even as Karn’s heart beat, his head cleared. Only one rider and mount. Had the others perished in the avalanche? He didn’t think so. The shot aimed at Karn had meant to blast him from the earth, but the ones fired at Thianna were meant to keep her from using her horn. So this rider was still under orders to capture Thianna alive. Perhaps scouting ahead while her boss was going back for reinforcements, or had they all split up to cover more territory? It didn’t matter. Karn suddenly felt far less hopeless than he had before. He understood his opponent. So he could predict her moves.
“Thianna!” he shouted. “Stand your ground!”
“What?” The snow around her had been burned away, the rock underneath scorched. The ground around the girl was a muddy mess. Her usual catlike grace was useless in the slippery melt. But it just confirmed Karn’s suspicions.
“Stand still. She won’t shoot you.”
“Are you crazy, Norrønboy? Shooting me is exactly what she’s doing!”
“You stubborn girl. Trust me. Stand still and use your—”
The rider yanked her reins and twisted her mount around to face Karn. She leveled the lance, a snarl forming on her face as she thumbed the trigger.
He flung himself at the only safe place on the mountain—Thianna. The rider jerked the lance up, the flame going over their heads.
Karn gripped Thianna’s arms above the elbows, steadying himself and keeping them close.
“She’ll shoot me. I’m not who they’re after. But she won’t shoot you. Or it.” He indicated the contents of her satchel. “Use it now.” Thianna pulled the horn out.
“Don’t be stupid, girl,” said the woman. “Just give me that and you can go home.”
“What about Karn?” Thianna said, draping an arm over the boy’s shoulder.
The woman’s eyes narrowed. Karn saw how badly she wanted to burn someone. But she shrugged.
“Who cares about him? Just give me the horn. Then you can both go.”
Thianna nodded, like she was mulling it over. The wyvern, beating its wings to stay aloft, glared hatred at both of them. Or was the hatred really for them? Its eyes were full of anger, but just who was the target?
Thianna glanced over the cliff’s edge to the river below. The ice was mostly gone here and the water ran deep and swift.
“Only thing is,” said Thianna, “we’ve been through this before. I don’t like you very much, and I still don’t trust you. So you want the horn, here it is.”
She lifted the horn up to her lips and blew. Again, it made no sound. And again, the wyvern snarled and flung its head down as if it was in pain. Its rider was nearly flung out of the saddle and over its neck, but she hung on.
“Forget you,” the woman spat. “If the horn melts, I don’t care.”
Flame shot again from her lance, but she was having trouble aiming with the wyvern wincing and bucking under her. Heat flared above their heads. At the same time, Thianna’s left arm clamped Karn about the waist.
“Hang on,” the frost giant said. Then Karn was off his feet, snatched like a rag doll, a yell building as Thianna leapt off the cliff’s edge and into the sky.
Cold winds whipped past them, and then they were tumbling and spiraling in the air. Karn saw the face of the mountain flying past, saw the rushing water rising up to meet him. He opened his mouth to yell.
And then they hit. The breath was knocked out of him by the impact. The shock of the cold was almost as bad. Karn tumbled in the strong current of the river, dazed and numb. Then he was fighting for the surface. His woolen clothes, weighed down by water, seemed like they were full of stones. His father’s sword dragged at his waist. His boots were heavy, making his feet almost useless.
Karn reached the surface and gasped for air, only to be plunged under again and tumbled head over heels. He couldn’t see Thianna—or anything else but the white foam of the waters. The cold was horrendous. It was a struggle for each breath. He kicked and paddled and tried to make the bank, but the current swept him onward, over rapids and small falls. His feet struck rocks on the riverbed. If his ankles became stuck in a rock and the current dragged him on and over, he could be trapped under water by the force of the river. He would drown in an instant.
He pulled his feet in, but that resulted in more tumbling. Flipping onto his back, he tried to point his feet downstream, not to fight the current, but to let it carry him. This seemed to work better. He shot like a little longboat down the rapids. But he was still freezing.
No longer struggling, he took in more of his surroundings. He heard someone hollering. Craning his neck, he saw Thianna a little ways upstream, spitting and gagging and invoking all manner of troll dung as she cursed the water. He almost laughed.
“Don’t fight it,” he said. “Aim your feet and ride it out.”
“What?”
“Aim your feet downstream!”
She must have heard him because the yelling subsided. Glancing overhead, Karn was relieved to see no sign of the wyvern. The river was carrying them so fast they would be far from the spot where they had jumped. But they would need to get out soon or he would freeze. He would have to wait for a break in the current and then make for the bank. The Norrønir had a saying: “If a man’s time has not come, something will save him.” But rushing down the freezing rapids, he thought of a more ironic saying: Out of the cooking pot, and into the fire. Fire, he thought as his limbs went numb. If only.
The Blasted City
Karn and Thianna lay on the bank, recovering their breath. The river had broadened as the mountains gave way to a wide valley, the water slowing enough for them to swim to shore.
Thianna pushed herself up onto her elbows and knees on the rocky bank and looked around. They were a long way south from where they had leapt from the cliff, but where they were, she couldn’t say.
She stood, shaking water from her hair. Her clothing was heavy with water as well. It was uncomfortable, true, but she could handle it. Karn would be worse. She’d need to get him somewhere warm so he could dry off, or he would freeze again. She hadn’t realized how fragile it was being human.
“Karn?” she said.
“A minute,” he gasped, huddled on the ground and hugging himself. So she took the minute to examine their surroundings further. The river had carried them to a strange location. The valley before them was barren. It was not what she expected this far south, where the trees should be plentiful. Blackened trunks dotted the landscape, burnt to cinders as if they had been charred in a great fire. Beyond their dead trunks, she could see what looked like a vast wasteland of crumbling stone.
Thianna had never seen any settlement but Gunnlod’s Plateau and the camp of Dragon’s Dance. Thus it took her a while to realize that she was gazing at the remains of a dead city, long since toppled into decay. She knew that the people of Norrøngard built their towns and homesteads primarily out of wood. Whoever built this city had quarried stone. That meant it wasn’t Norrønir. She had a sinking feeling that she knew where they were. They should leave immediately. If Karn didn’t need shelter, if their pursuers hadn’t found them …
She looked upstream, back toward the mountains, and she thought she saw a dark speck whirling in the sky. A speck that was growing larger as she watched. Then it didn’t matter where they were. They had more pressing concerns.
“We need to hide,” she said. When Karn didn’t answer immediately, she
grabbed him by the arm and hauled him to his feet. “We need to hide now.” Then she pointed. “She’s still following us. We need to get out of the open.”
Karn nodded. His teeth were chattering. “Wh-wh-where?” he stammered.
Thianna gestured toward the ruins in the blackened valley ahead. Karn’s eyes bulged.
“I-is that what I th-think it is?” asked Karn.
“Yes,” said Thianna. “It is.”
“S-S-Sardeth,” he stuttered.
“The one and only, Norrønboy. Welcome to the Blasted City.”
Nothing moved in the dead forest but a chill wind. Thianna helped a shivering Karn between rows of blackened trunks without seeing so much as a bird or squirrel. The ground underfoot was ashy, soft, like fresh powdered snow, but there was nothing natural or wholesome about it. She felt she trod in the dust of a dead past.
The trees gave way to mounds of weathered, gray stone. Here and there a tall, fluted column still stood, or a partial wall. Thianna wanted somewhere they could hide, a house that hadn’t collapsed. She needed a roof to shield them from the sky.
The eerie quiet reminded her of the barrow mounds. Only this dead city was far larger. If ever a place were haunted …
As they drew nearer the center of the city, the buildings appeared more intact. Here two walls and a partial roof, there an entire portico—though the dwelling behind it had collapsed. They passed statues standing solitary in what must once have been public squares. Many of the walls and arches were covered in elaborate carvings.
She saw statues of a woman with a lion-drawn chariot. A man with crescentlike horns protruding from his shoulders. A figure riding a horse bareback and wielding a staff. A creature with the upper body of a woman but the lower body of a fish. Bulls, lions, images of the sun and moons. The images made no sense to her. They weren’t of any god, giant, or hero that she knew.
If anything like this city existed in the wider world, and still stood, the world was a much bigger and stranger place than it had ever looked from her mountaintop. It made her feel small. Thianna hated to feel small.
“The Gordion Empire,” said Karn.
“Hey, aren’t you freezing to death?”