by Lou Anders
“It’s been fun, kid,” said Snorgil. “See you around.”
“I—I don’t have a weapon,” said Ori, looking for any excuse. “He took my sword. I can’t fight you without a sword.”
“Not to worry,” replied Helltoppr. “I’m sure we can find you one inside. Now come along. I’m anxious to get on with positioning your runestone while the moons are still up.”
Ori cried out then and tried to run, but the three draug clamped bony hands on him and shoved him below the earth.
Karn shuddered. It was a horrible fate, even if it was one that was utterly deserved. He left the barrow quickly, heading back toward Dragon’s Dance. His own fate awaited him there, along with his father.
In the skies between one place and another, Thianna drove her mount in pursuit of Sydia. She knew that the woman could not be allowed to escape. Not at any cost.
What Sydia carried was a clue to Thianna’s own past, a past she cared fiercely about now, after having avoided it for so long. The world was a far larger place than she had ever suspected. Gunnlod’s Plateau might be the top of the world, but the top was only a tiny corner. Ignorance of her roots had cost her her home. It had almost cost the lives of her dearest family. She knew now that who she wanted to be could not be separated from who she was.
The Horn of Osius was a powerful tool of oppression. That made Sydia and her kind bullies. Worse than bullies. Thianna had no patience for bullies of any size, from any land. She wasn’t sure how Sydia’s people used this horn, but if her mother had abandoned her life to free it from their clutches, that was reason enough to prevent its return.
The cold air whipped around her. Beneath, a landscape of snow gave way to alpine trees as mountains dwindled to foothills and canyon walls.
They were heading south and east, flying in mere moments over land that had taken Thianna and Karn many days to cross. Heading along roughly the same course.
One thing struck Thianna as odd.
“Why doesn’t she use the horn herself?” she asked. “Couldn’t she use it to stop us?”
Not without hurting her own mount, the wyvern replied. Also, she lacks the skill.
“There’s a skill? But how did I—?”
You are your mother’s child. Not that your inane pipings were in any way harmonious.
“Again with the insults. Are all wyvern as obnoxious as you?”
I’m one of the nicer ones.
“I admit, I’ve tangled with reptiles worse than you.”
The wyvern sent back a wave of indignation, but even as she chuckled at it, Thianna thought about a particularly nasty reptile and the direction they were currently headed.
She looked at the beast under her, saw its life of subjugation.
“I don’t like bullies,” she said through clenched teeth.
What’s that?
“I have an idea. Head that way.” Thianna indicated a direction at a tangent to Sydia’s course.
She’s not heading that way, the beast complained.
“Trust me. We’re cutting her off. I need to drive her just a touch north.”
Thianna found she could think of a direction and the wyvern understood. There was no need to point or speak. Working together, they began to harry Sydia and her mount, forcing tiny course corrections in their flight path. By staying just south of Sydia’s position, they drove the soldier north.
Thianna smiled when the ruins of Sardeth came into sight.
“Orm!” she called, yelling with her mind as well as her voice. Hopefully the magic of the horn was still in effect. “Orm, I’ve kept my promise.”
The piles of crumbled stone stretched beneath them, still and dead as they had lain these thousand years and more. Something stirred.
Orm Hinn Langi rose from the ruins of the coliseum. Even prepared for it, Thianna gasped at the great linnorm’s enormous size. She wished she could have seen Sydia’s face, but from the suddenly convulsive flapping of her mount’s wings, she could imagine it.
Sydia’s wyvern hung in the air, uncertain where to turn. The hesitation was the opportunity Thianna needed.
“Quickly. Pour it on.”
You want me to go closer? To that thing? The consternation in her wyvern’s mind was tangible. As was the fear.
“Trust me.”
It’s huge.
“Just get us closer to Sydia. Quickly.”
To its credit, the wyvern beat its wings furiously, closing the distance.
You return, rumbled Orm in a voice like thunder in the sky. And you bring the hateful thing.
“Got your sword too,” said Thianna. “Just give me a minute.”
She pulled her feet from the stirrups, stood on the saddle.
You can’t be serious, her mount said.
“Watch me.”
Die well, it replied with a note of cold approval.
Thianna leapt, launching herself through the air.
For an instant, she hung in the sky.
Then she crashed into Sydia, almost knocking the woman from her perch.
The soldier recovered quickly. She shoved her elbow back, connecting painfully with Thianna’s jaw.
Thianna butted her forehead into Sydia’s skull in response.
The wyvern bucked, still terrified of the dragon.
Sydia tried to draw her sword, but Thianna clamped a hand on the hilt. The soldier drove her elbow back again and again, savage blows slamming into Thianna’s jaw and torso.
Thianna laughed in her ear.
“Even Thrudgey hits harder than that,” she said.
Thianna grabbed at the horn, yanking it so hard its strap broke. At the feel of the horn coming loose, Sydia gave up her efforts to draw her sword and twisted in the saddle. She grabbed the horn with both hands.
They fought over it in a tug-of-war while struggling to remain on the wyvern. Before them, the furious visage of Orm took up half the sky. Thianna felt the great dragon’s eyes upon her. She hoped it would wait one more moment. She could feel Orm’s hot breath cutting through the cold air, didn’t dare risk a glance at his huge mouth, his spear-sized teeth.
Get ready, she thought, to both Orm and her mount.
“Skapa kaldr skapa kaldr skapa kaldr,” she chanted. The horn in her hands suddenly crackled with hoarfrost. Sydia screamed and let it go. Burning cold was hard for the foreigner to take, but nothing to the frost giant’s daughter.
With a shriek of triumph, Thianna threw the horn as hard as she could. Sydia screamed, her eyes riveted on the instrument as it tumbled in the air.
Thianna leapt from the back of the wyvern even as Sydia directed the creature into a dive.
For a third time in her life, she tumbled in open air. She watched as Sydia drove her mount after the horn, snatching it in triumph. Then the soldier’s expression turned to horror as the dragon’s teeth closed around her. Soldier and mount disappeared inside of Orm’s mouth.
The wyvern’s claws caught Thianna under the armpits and hauled her up from her deadly plunge. She hung suspended in the air, dangling before Orm’s great head as the dragon chewed and swallowed. It ran an immense tongue over its lips, considering her.
“I got your sword here too, if you want it back,” Thianna said, drawing the blade from its sheath. “You remember it was a loaner, right?”
Orm opened his mouth again, but not to eat. To laugh.
“Keep it,” the dragon rumbled. “A gift in return for destroying the hateful thing. And for providing the best diversion I’ve had in centuries. Go, Thianna, as few have, with your life and my gratitude. But I will sleep now and digest this unexpected meal. So go.”
Dangling in the air, Thianna chuckled. Did the dragon actually think she wanted to hang around?
The Parting of the Ways
Her room seemed strangely small to her. Everything on the plateau felt small. It was odd, for a village of giants to feel small.
Thianna gazed at her bed of ice. A cold bed in a small room. Or so it seemed after so many da
ys under the open skies, so many nights sleeping under the canopy of stars.
The giants’ world, she realized, was bound in by more than the cliff and the rocks, buried by more than snow and ice.
She sighed deeply. Today was as good a day for it as any other.
Softly, she made her way into the hall and to her father’s workshop. She tiptoed, without shame that she could, and paused in the doorway. She watched him at work without interrupting. His large hands could be so gentle, so clever. He was the best father in the world, not just at the top of it. Finally, she cleared her throat and spoke.
“I’m going out.”
“When will you be back?” her father said.
“I don’t know.” She was speaking truthfully.
Magnilmir paused in his carving and set down his tools. Finally, he spoke.
“From the first time I laid eyes on you. From the moment you were born. Always, always I knew this day would come.”
“I need answers,” Thianna said simply.
“Beyond the ones that I can give,” her father said. It was a statement, not a question. She nodded.
He stood, head bowed. Thianna heard a small noise, like the sound of fragile glass cracking. It came from the floor at Magnilmir’s feet. She averted her eyes as the next tiny icicle crashed to the stone floor of the cavern and burst. She would not embarrass her father by watching as his frozen tears broke upon the ground. But she did go to him and hug him. They stayed like that awhile, father and daughter.
In the frozen caverns of the Hall of the Fallen, she said a wordless goodbye to her mother. Then she left the halls beneath the mountain and stood in the wind upon the plateau.
Eggthoda was there, waiting for her. The gruff giantess passed her a newly outfitted pack.
“I’ve stowed some things you may need,” Eggthoda said. “Supplies, gear, and such. There are coins in there for you as well.”
“Thank you,” Thianna said, because saying more was painful. And then, because Eggthoda was studying her strangely, she added, “What?”
“It’s nothing. Only that you seem taller.”
Thianna laughed at that. Eggthoda ran a finger down Thianna’s arm.
“Goose bumps,” the giant marveled. “Don’t tell me you feel cold?”
Thianna didn’t answer, but she surprised Eggthoda by throwing herself into the giantess’s arms.
Then she walked away to where the wyvern pawed at the snow. It had hung around after bringing her home. She thought maybe because it sensed she had wanted it to.
“One last ride?” she asked. The reptile inclined its head.
She climbed into its saddle and took to the sky.
They met Karn atop an insignificant hill between places that had real names. He stood apart while Thianna said goodbye to the wyvern. She felt the urge to pet its muzzle like she might a horse. She resisted. The wyvern was too intelligent and too haughty for such treatment.
“Thank you,” she said. “What happens now?”
The spell that binds my kind grows weaker every year. Without the horn, we will soon throw off our yokes.
“I mean, to you?”
I have had enough of humans and their struggles. I will go away, somewhere I cannot be found or followed.
“Well, thank you.”
And my thanks to you. As a parting gift, I will share this information with you, though I urge you not to make use of it. Your mother’s land. It is called Thica.
Thianna gasped. Thica. She had never heard of such a place, but then, she knew little beyond Ymiria. Still, it was a start.
The wyvern flexed its wings, forcing her to step back. Then it rose into the sky.
Thianna watched as it rose into the skies, then turned to join Karn.
After the battle, they had swapped stories, so she knew what had become of Karn’s uncle and he had learned of Sydia’s fate. But he wanted news of the plateau, and she of the farm.
“Thrudgelmir has been banished,” she said. “Gunnlod kicked him and his friends out. Thrudgelmir says they want to start their own village farther north. Keep to the old ways, rebuild the lost glory of the giants and all that nonsense.”
“Good luck with that.” Karn snickered. “I can’t imagine Thrudgelmir being much good as a village leader.”
“How about you? What about all those people released from the runestones?”
“Some of them have gone back to their families. But others, well, they were stone for a long time. A really long time. Korlundr is finding work on the farm for those who want it. He’s also freed the new slaves that Ori bought.”
“He seems like a good man, your father.”
“Yours too.”
“Oh, speaking of,” said Thianna, pulling a package from her satchel. “He made you this.” She passed Karn the bundle. “Open it.”
Karn’s eyes lit up when the contents were revealed.
“It’s a new Thrones and Bones set!” he exclaimed.
“Magnilmir carved it himself. To replace the one you lost. I hope it’s all right. The bone is mastodon tusk, not whalebone, and there’s no silver inlay.”
“It’s magnificent,” said Karn. “Thank him for me. Though I’ll thank him myself at Dragon’s Dance next spring.”
“About that,” said Thianna, eyes downcast. She hunched her shoulders for the first time in Karn’s experience. “I won’t be there.”
Karn nodded. He had suspected as much.
“Come with me?” she asked.
Karn smiled sadly.
“You always wanted to see the world,” she reminded him.
“And you never did.”
“Yeah, well, things change.”
“They do,” said Karn. “I never realized how much strategy and planning goes into running the farm. It’s like a great game that never ends. And it’s important. My father needs me. More than I realized. And I need him.”
Karn lowered his eyes after his display of emotion. “Anyway, Ori had just about run the farm into the ground. I don’t want to be like him. Ever. And my folks and I, my sisters—it’ll take a lot of work to straighten it out. But we can do it. I can do it. Now I know that this is where I want to be.”
“Look at you,” she said. “You’ll make a great hauld one day.”
Karn didn’t answer, because he knew it was true.
“I wish you weren’t leaving,” he said instead.
“I know. But it’s time I made a name for myself.”
“Hmmm,” said Karn.
“What?”
“Well, I remember Magnilmir said giants don’t have last names the way we do. You’ll need a last name if you’re to travel among us humans. You need to pick something.”
“What sort of name?”
“Something to hint at the great deeds you’ve done. Like Thianna Dragon’s Bane or Thianna Worm Rider or something. Thianna Hornblower.”
“Those are dreadful.” She laughed.
“Well, how about something so you’ll remember? Where you come from, I mean.”
“Like what?”
Karn stared at the strange girl who had become his best friend.
“I know,” he said with a smile. “Frostborn. That way, no matter how far you go, you’ll always remember your first home.”
“Frostborn,” she repeated, rolling the word around in her mouth. “I like it.”
She embraced him, a long tight hug that said more than words.
“Be healthy, Karn Korlundsson,” she said at last.
“Be healthy, Thianna Frostborn, giant of a friend. I’ll never forget you.”
They walked away from each other then, parting for good.
Or so they thought.
Araland (AR-uh-lund): A neighboring country to Norrøngard. Once upon a time the Norrønir raided the Aralish heavily, but now they are strong trading partners. Most Aralish have distinctive orange hair. Their men often wear dresses that they call kilts but Norrønir call dresses.
Argandfjord (AR-gand-fee-yord): T
he greatest of fjords, the Argandfjord marks the easternmost border of Norrøngard and separates Norrøngard and its neighbor Ymiria from the vast and inhospitable Plains of the Mastodons, where big, furry creatures dwell. And a good thing too.
Bandulfr (BEHN-dull-fur): A fisherman in the city of Bense. Despite the way he looks—and smells—he’s always good for a game of Thrones and Bones.
barrow: A mound of earth over a stone burial chamber. Barrows are often full of treasure and sealed with a “corpse door” to make sure the dead stay dead. Don’t go in, and hope nothing comes out.
Bense (BEN-suh): A coastal city that has become one of the main centers of trade between Norrøngard and its neighboring countries. Rowdy, smelly, dangerous, and dirty, Bense is a fine example of the best of Norrønir culture. Wearing a helmet to the dinner table is advised.
Beysa (BAY-suh): The Norrønir goddess of summer.
Bork (rhymes with “pork”): A giant, and Thianna’s teammate in games of Knattleikr.
drakkar (DRACK-car): Meaning “dragonship” in the Norrønian language, drakkar are long, narrow wooden longboats. They have a shallow draft hull and can be rowed or sailed. Dragonships are built for speed, not comfort. The raiding captain of a dragonship is called a seawolf, but Norrønir don’t raid anymore. Honest.
draug (drowg; the “au” sound is pronounced as in the word “sauerkraut”): An undead grave dweller who guards the wealth he or she amassed in life. Draug are vindictive and dangerous. They like nothing better than making life miserable for the living. Avoid at all costs.
Dvergrian (deh-VER-gree-un) Mountains: A mountain range in northern Araland. Many dwarves live there now. They say it’s nice.
Eggthoda (egg-THOH-duh): A gruff giantess who helps Magnilmir and Thianna. Her hard exterior covers a hard interior. But there’s a soft spot in there.
fjord (fee-yord): A long, narrow inlet of the sea formed long ago by glacial erosion. Fjords typically have steep slopes or cliffs on either side.
Franna (FRAH-nuh): Karn’s mother, a strong Norrønur woman. Korlundr’s Farm would fall apart without her. And don’t you forget it.
freeman: A former slave who has been freed by his owner. Many freemen find work on farms.
Gindri (GHIN-dree): A dwarf, a traveling tinker and tradesman. Everybody knows him. He seems to get around. He’s probably up to something.