Curse of the Ice Dragon

by Tara West

  He watched as Ura tied one end of her spear to a long, thin string before anchoring it to a spike in the ice. Then she lifted the spear and clumsily heaved it at a fish. Markus grimaced as he watched her throw again and again, putting so much of her shoulder into the throw that he feared she would injure herself.

  “Stupid fish!” She stomped her foot as she pulled the spear out of the water.

  Markus repressed a grimace as he watched Ura trip clumsily over the spear before casting it to the ground.

  “It isn’t the fish—it’s the way you throw.”

  Ura reached for the weapon and thrust it into his hands. “Here, you try if you think you can do better.”

  Markus looked down at the spear in his hand, before his gaze shot to the soaring creatures. Then he shut his eyes, envisioning the speed of the fish and the trajectory of his weapon. In his mind’s eye he could see his arm release the spear and pierce the shimmery scales. Grasping the line, he jerked the rod back into his grip with the fish locked onto the barbed end.

  This was what made Markus a mighty hunter: his ability to envision the kill before he released his weapon, for his kills always happened exactly as they had played in his mind.

  Markus’s hands began to tremble as he fought the urge to hurl the spear at a fish. How he longed to hunt again. But this longing was quickly replaced by regret as the image of his mother’s bloody innards flashed in his memory. No, he would not kill. He would not lose Alec too.

  Markus released a slow and shaky breath. “I cannot kill, but I can do better. Here, let me show you.”

  Turning, he hurled the spear into a wall. It lodged in the ice with a loud, snapping sound. He then unsheathed his knife and began digging the spear out of the ice.

  Ura came up beside Markus while he worked. “My brother told me they called you The Mighty Hunter up above.”

  When her cool fingers brushed against his hunter’s mark, he instinctively jerked away.

  “I’m sorry,” Ura said, before stepping back. “Does your scar pain you?”

  Markus lowered his knife and turned to her. “I don’t feel it, Ura. It’s just that your touch startled me.”

  His scar shamed him. It was funny how he had always been proud of the mark. The villagers often pointed to it whenever they lavished him with praise, but now it only served as a reminder of how he had abused his blessing, which was now no more than a curse.

  “Your scar looks like a bow waiting to be drawn. Is it true, then?” she prodded. “Were you a mighty hunter?”

  “Aye,” Markus mumbled.

  “Show me,” she said, before pulling out her boning knife and carving a circle into the ice wall. “Go, stand back there.” She pointed to a small mound of crushed ice at least forty paces away and tapped the circle with her knife. “Let’s see if you can hit the target.”

  Markus finally dislodged the spear and grumbled as he trudged away. Upon reaching the mound, he turned and raised the spear, noting its heavy weight and determining how much thrust he would need to hit his target. Markus aimed the spear at the ice; the vision of him penetrating the target quickly worked itself in his mind.

  “You might want to move,” he called to Ura, more out of courtesy as he would never really hit her. Once she had stepped away from the target, Markus pulled back, aimed, and threw.

  URA RACED TOWARD THE lodged spear and let out a low whistle. She couldn’t help but gawk at Markus as he walked toward her. Physically, he had changed dramatically since falling into her kingdom. Markus was much leaner now, and his dark hair and eyes were just a few shades darker than her own. But, despite his new outward appearance, Ura had to remind herself that she knew little about him.

  “How did you do it?” she asked.

  He turned down his gaze as his pale cheeks took on a rosy hue. “My aim always strikes true, Ura.” He turned his back to her and began cutting away the spear.

  “Amazing,” she breathed the word at his back. “You are truly gifted, Markus.”

  When he turned to face her, there was no mistaking the flash of pain in his eyes. “Nay, I am cursed. If I hadn’t been born with this gift, I wouldn’t be here now.”

  Ura stepped around him and placed a gentle hand on his forearm. She gasped at how the slightest caress of her skin against his sent a jolt down her spine. “Would it be selfish of me to say I’m glad you’re here?”

  Markus slowly pulled his arm away as the rosiness in his cheeks spread across his face and neck.

  Ura cursed herself for being a fool. He recoiled from her touch and did not show her the same interest. Besides, what right had she to flirt with this land dweller when she had seen her fate in the mists—the avalanche that would crush her bones and rob her of breath? He would leave her soon anyway, and most likely never return. Ura knew the witch would not forgive Markus, but that mattered little when he lacked the skills for climbing ice.

  Ura turned her back and wiped the moisture from her eyes. Odu had told her that Markus was sent to her for a reason. While she had no idea what that might be, Ura knew she should make sure the short time he spent with her was not wasted on futile fantasy.

  “It’s funny how you throw the spear with such ease, yet you scale ice so clumsily,” she remarked.

  “I don’t think it’s funny at all,” Markus grumbled behind her.

  Ura turned back to him at the popping sound of the spear breaking free of the ice, and she nodded toward it. “Perhaps you could apply the same principal to climbing as you do to hunting.”

  Markus arched a pale brow. “How so?”

  “If your aim always strikes true, why can’t you envision yourself as the spear and the peak of the tusk the target?”

  Markus looked down at the weapon in his hand as if he were seeing it for the first time. “I’ve never thought of it that way.”

  Ura inwardly smiled, hoping her advice had helped him in some way. “Try it the next time my brother takes you climbing.”

  A wide grin split his face. “I will.”

  Her heart skipped a beat at Markus’s smile. Odd, but she could not recall him smiling until now.

  “Good,” she replied. Turning on her heel, she marched back toward the edge of the river. “Let’s go catch some fish.”

  Ura pulled a heavy net out of her satchel. “This is what we use to catch slogs before they extinguish all of our light crystals.” She tied the net to the end of her spear. With the wide, bone hoop, she aimed to net one or two large perch.

  Markus walked up beside her and leveled her with a sideways grin. “That’s cheating.”

  Ura flashed her best mocking smile. “Would you prefer some more dragon weed for your luncheon?” She couldn’t help but laugh as Markus’s features twisted. “I thought so.”

  She wasted no time when she spotted a fish flying her way. She scooped it into the net and quickly flung it to shore. Holding the net face down, she watched as the creature flapped against its confines.

  Tar dropped his serpent fin and bounded up to Ura, barking at her and the fish.

  While she had caught the perch this way many times before, Ura always marveled at its strength. She knelt on the spear and held down either side with her palms, but it still wasn’t enough to quell the fighting fish.

  “Markus, help me!” she cried.

  “I can’t!” he called back, a high-pitched note of despair in his voice.

  No matter how firmly Ura held the spear, the fish bucked toward the water, dragging her with it. Just as they neared the water’s edge and she thought all hope was lost, Tar bounded on top of the net and chomped down on the fish. The creature went limp as blood seeped out of the dog’s sharp fangs.

  “Drop the fish, Tar,” Ura instructed.

  The dog merely whimpered as it held its catch tightly in its jowls.

  “The fish is dead, Markus. Can you help me now?”

  “Aye.” He let out a sharp whistle while clapping his hands. “Come here, Tar.”

  The dog backed up, draggin
g the fish, net and spear along with him.

  Markus followed while continuing to clap. “Come, boy.”

  Tar whimpered and backed up again. Then he turned on his heels and ran for the tunnel.

  “Stop him!” Ura shrieked. She didn’t know whether to be angry or amused.

  The dog sped off with her kill, the spear clanking noisily behind him as he vanished into the darkness. Markus lagged behind while dragging his wounded leg.

  Ura chased after Markus, watching as he made several futile attempts to grab the end of the spear.

  “Give it back, you mangy thief!” Markus hollered before he was finally able to grab hold of the weapon.

  Tar stopped and turned, still clutching the fish and net in his jaw. Ura hoped the dog hadn’t done too much damage to her net. It had taken her weeks to weave it.

  “Drop it, Tar. Drop the fish!” Markus bellowed.

  After the dog flashed them with pleading grey eyes, Ura finally gave in. “Oh, let him have it. Just get my net back.”

  Markus rolled his eyes while yanking on the spear. “How do I explain to this stupid mutt that he may keep the fish, but surrender the net?”

  Finally, after a long, tense standoff, Tar dropped both objects. He whimpered while licking fish blood off his lips.

  Markus lifted the net off the mangled fish and then handed the spear to Ura.

  Tar danced around, eagerly eyeing the prize.

  Markus’s shoulders fell and he shook his head. “Eat it, Tar.”

  The dog yipped once before pouncing on the fish.

  Ura examined her net, which was, surprisingly, only ripped in a few places. “I can mend this when I return home. The rips are not very large. I still think I can catch another perch.”

  “Let us go then while the mutt is eating,” Markus grumbled.

  Ura edged closer to him and, against her better judgment, she tentatively laid a hand upon his arm. “That was very nice of you, letting Tar have the fish.”

  “You told me to let him have it. If it were up to me, I would’ve given the perch to the kraehn as the meat was ruined anyway.” Markus scowled at Tar before turning his dark gaze back to her.

  Though Ura knew Markus pretended indifference, she could not mistake the longing in his eyes. She took a chance and squeezed his arm, and when he did not pull away, she leaned in closer. He smelled of rich scents, mayhap the spices he used to cure meat. “It was still kind of you to give it to him,” she breathed.

  Markus’s eyes darkened and Ura knew that longing had been replaced by need. Her spear fell to the floor with a loud clank before he pulled her against his chest. Ura knew it was wrong. They were not destined to be together, but she couldn’t deny the wild beating of her heart as she tilted her lips toward his.

  His mouth had barely brushed hers before he pulled back. “This is wrong, Ura. I must leave soon and I will not be the one to break your heart.”

  She clutched his shoulders as tears formed at the rims of her eyes. “It is too late, Markus.”

  MARKUS STRUGGLED TO find the will to let go of the beautiful girl. He was a cursed boy. He knew he did not deserve to be holding her in such a way, and yet, he could not deny the ache in his heart at the thought of letting her go. And now, as her eyes pooled over with tears, Markus hated himself for surrendering to his foolish impulse.

  At the sound of Tar’s menacing growl behind them, Markus released Ura and spun around.

  Bane and his brothers emerged from the shadows, each looking like they wanted nothing more than to thrust one of their spears through his chest.

  Bane raised an arm and pointed a finger at Markus while continuing his rapid stride. “Keep your hands off my girl!”

  Tar jumped in front of Bane, the fur on his back standing on end, and the boy halted his advance. His two younger brothers and another beefy-looking boy stopped behind him.

  “Call off your brother’s mutt, Ura,” Bane hissed, “before he meets the pointy end of my spear.”

  Ura gasped before whistling to Tar. The dog held his ground, blocking Bane’s path while snarling like a rabid animal. Bane lifted his spear and thrust it into Tar.

  As the dog howled in pain, Markus raced toward Bane and slammed his fist into his chest. The force of the blow knocked the spear out of the boy’s grasp and sent him crashing to the ground. Not until Bane had skidded across the slick ice and into a darkened corner did Markus hear the bubbling frenzy.

  Kraehn!

  Markus raced after Bane and dove to the ground, latching onto his leg just as the wisps of the boy’s pale hair were shredded by the demonic fish.

  Bane screamed as a Kraehn jumped up from the pit and bit his ear. Markus pulled him away and then spun around on the ice, kicking the voracious predator back into its hole.

  Markus was vaguely aware of a sharp pain shooting up his side and into his broken arm. His skull felt foggy, and he realized he must have hit his head when he dove for Bane. Somewhere in the distance, he thought he heard Ura crying.

  Bane’s brothers had swarmed around them. The beefy boy stood over Markus, glaring down at him with beady eyes similar to Bane’s. Markus clutched his side and watched while Bane was lifted to his feet.

  “Land dweller,” Bane growled while clutching his bloody ear, “meet my cousin, Ven.” The cousins exchanged knowing grins before Bane added, “Ven, meet the land dweller.”

  With that, Ven swung his foot toward Markus’s broken arm. Markus jerked back as the spiked heel of a boot cut across the bandages protecting his arm. He howled as his flesh ripped open. His brain slipped further into a fog and his vision blurred. Somewhere in the distance, Tar whimpered and Ura cried louder. Why were they crying? What had happened?

  Then two hands hooked beneath his armpits and dragged him across the ice. Somewhere behind him, a strange mixture of sounds grew louder, like a thousand snapping turtles in boiling water.

  Then someone bellowed in the distance. “What is the meaning of this?!”

  Markus shook his head at the sound of Ryne’s booming tenor. He’d angered him on many occasions, but never had he heard such a volatile edge to his voice. He struggled to sit up, despite his dizzying skull, and the pain shooting up his side and arm. Ryne was standing just a few paces away, clutching a spear with whitened knuckles.

  Bane stepped backward and pointed at Markus. “This land dweller was pawing at your sister. We meant to teach him a lesson.”

  “By feeding him to the kraehn?” Ryne demanded, before pointing to the whimpering dog lying on his side. “And what happened to Tar?”

  Bane’s brothers shifted from one foot to the other while their gazes darted about the room. Ura was hovering over Tar, having already wrapped a makeshift bandage around the wound in his shoulder.

  Bane turned toward Tar and sneered. “Your dog tried to attack us while I was saving your sister.”

  Ryne’s jaw fell open. “What?”

  “That’s a lie!” Ura cried. “We kissed, Ryne, nothing more.”

  Her brother turned a scowl on Markus. The look in his hooded eyes was one that promised retribution. “You kissed my sister?”

  Markus nodded as a knot of regret seized his chest.

  Ryne pointed his spear at him. “You, I will deal with later.”

  Then Ryne turned toward Bane before throwing his spear to the ground. “You,” he bellowed, “I warned you what would happen if you hurt my dog.” He pushed up the sleeves on his cloak and bared his fists. “Throw down your spear and fight me like a man.”

  “Ven,” Bane cried as his beady eyes shifted toward his cousin.

  Ryne laughed as Ven stepped forward. “I knew you’d never be man enough to marry my sister, Bane Eryll. I will pummel you after I’m finished with your cousin.”

  Markus struggled to his feet. Though injured, he would try his best to help. He stifled a nervous laugh for he knew that once Ryne was through with Bane and Ven, he would be next.

  He didn’t know whether it was the foul smell that coiled
around his senses or Tar’s sudden shift in movement that alerted him, but when the hairs on the back of his nape stood on end, his hunter’s sixth sense told him something was amiss.

  As a deep, menacing rumble sounded behind Ura and Tar, Ryne and Ven turned while gripping their spears.

  Bane’s mouth fell open. “Gnull!” he shouted. He raced behind Ryne and Ven before disappearing down the tunnel in the opposite direction.

  Tar staggered to his feet, growling, while Ura scooted against the tunnel wall. Bane’s brothers stood rooted to the spot, both staring toward the mouth of the tunnel with their mouths agape.

  Two enormous tusks emerged from the shadows, followed by the most menacing beast Markus had ever seen. Covered in pale, fine fur, the creature was at least thrice the size of a snow bear. Large folds of heavy skin hung over its four, fin-like feet. As the beast slowly advanced toward them, the ground shook as his flesh smacked the floor. But the tusks were the most daunting aspect; long enough to drag the ground as its head scraped the top of the tunnel.

  Ryne and Ven aimed their spears at the gnull while rushing forward and yelling. The creature answered with a roar that shook the icy walls and rocked Markus to his core. Tar jumped in front of Ryne, heedless of his own injury as he risked his life to protect his master. All the while, Markus stood helpless, knowing he could do nothing to help Ryne and hating himself for it.

  One of Bane’s brothers broke to the left, crouching against the wall beside Ura. The other brother dropped his spear and continued to gape at the beast, despite Ryne and Ven yelling at him to flee.

  Markus fought the urge to turn away as the gnull reared back and came crashing down on the boy, snapping him in half with his massive jowls. The boy’s legs fell to the ground as the creature swallowed his torso in one gulp.

  An enraged cry broke from the other boy as he picked up his spear and threw it at the gnull. It bounced off one tusk before falling to the ground. As the beast swung his head, the boy screamed and threw himself against the wall, coming within a hair’s breadth of being swept away by a tusk.

  “Stay down, Gunther!” Ven yelled.