Chapter 20 #2
But Kritka shot out, teeth sinking deep into a joint in the spider’s foreleg. The enormous wolfspider gave a shriek so earsplitting, Hekla’s vision warped. Kritka’s attack was enough to give Eyvind the time he needed to dart back to their group.
“Shore up, Kritka!” bellowed Rey. But when the stubborn beast did not relent—not even when the spider lifted its foreleg into the air and shook it roughly—Rey swore. “We rush the spider on the count of three.”
Hekla reached for her sword, then cursed. It lay in the grass, near the spider’s opposite foreleg. She drew her hevrít instead.
Rey counted them down, and they rushed as a unit. Hekla hacked into the carapace joints in the spider’s foreleg, trying not to vomit as black blood coated her blade. Rey bellowed commands, urging the warriors to aim for the spider’s underbelly, where its armor was not so thick.
The spider scuttled back, its voice rattling inside Hekla’s skull. Meddlesome little pests. Gjalla will string you up one by one. Savor your lifeblood over many long days.
But their group was relentless, chasing the spider to the edge of the glade. Gunnar’s sword sliced clean through a thick, hairy foreleg. Black ichor poured from the wound, and the spider gave one last furious shriek before crashing through the underbrush and into the greater forest.
Chest heaving, Hekla turned in a full circle. The scent of rot lingered in the air, but the crash of bodies through the greater forest was growing fainter. She blinked at the realization that the mist and its army were retreating.
Victory swelled in her chest, but it faded a touch as she took in the silent carnage in the clearing.
Countless Turned creatures. Sigrún, bandaging her arm.
Eyvind, kneeling over a pair of corpses—both warriors from his retinue.
Shame filled Hekla as she retrieved her sword.
How could she have allowed herself to falter in the middle of such a battle?
But before she could dwell too long on her failure, Kritka—in squirrel form—clambered up Hekla’s body and settled on her shoulder. “I told you to warn me before doing that, you tree demon,” she bit out. But her anger soon shifted to worry as he flopped on his belly and lay still. “Are you hurt?”
Only tired, he said. Our wolf form takes much strength. When Mistress is fully restored—
At the thought of his mistress, Hekla whirled toward the tree.
The tiny woman sat in the tree’s hollow, grassy wisps of her hair swaying as she blinked at the scene before her.
Hekla rushed forward, dropping to her knees before the Forest Maiden.
Carefully, she pulled Kritka from her shoulder and lay him gently on the ground.
The antlered woman pushed to her feet, her foxlike tail twitching behind her. She looked from Hekla to Kritka with dark, verdant eyes.
“Who is this?” she asked, her voice reedy and thin, like wind whistling through a forest.
Kritka lifted his weary head. “Kritka has brought to you the Protector, Mistress. It took much convincing and proving of trust, but—”
“This is not the Protector!” The small woman’s voice grew thunderous, echoing off the trees in the clearing. Hekla sensed the warriors gathering behind her, tension stirring in the glade. The Forest Maiden sniffed the air. “You have…bonded to this human, Kritka?”
Hekla’s brows drew together. Not the Protector? After weeks of the squirrel telling her she was, she’d rather gotten used to the name. “I’m Hekla,” she said, frowning. “I woke you—”
With a harrumph, the Maiden strode toward Hekla. Putting tiny hands on tiny hips, she scowled in disapproval.
Kritka’s tail twitched nervously, and he finally pushed to his feet.
“But Kritka did as you said, Mistress. We went south and searched for many long moons. In the strange, twisting woods, at last we found the Protector. But Protector was surrounded by predators. Kritka killed them all, but when we turned back, Protector had fled.”
The Forest Maiden massaged her temples in a surprisingly human-like gesture. “You lost the Protector, Kritka?”
Hekla felt a pang of sympathy for the exhausted squirrel.
“Kritka searched for many long moons, Mistress, never giving up. We traveled very far north. And one day, we found the scent once more—the Protector had found Mistress’s markings and followed them to your grove!”
Hekla puzzled over Kritka’s strange story, trying to understand.
South. Twisting woods. Surrounded by predators.
“Do you mean the Twisted Pinewoods?” she asked, realization beginning to dawn.
“That was you in the Twisted Pinewoods, Kritka?” Hekla dragged a hand down her face.
“Silla fled through those woods. She told me that members of a warband had stolen her belongings—that a grimwolf had killed them all and she managed to escape.” A caustic laugh fell from her lips.
“She said it made no sense, but I’m beginning to understand. Silla is the Protector.”
Crouching beside her, Rey cursed. Kritka bounded a few cautious steps toward him. “But this one also carries the Protector’s scent.” The squirrel’s nose twitched as he scented Rey. “Why does he also smell of the Protector?”
“They carry the scent,” said the Forest Maiden, “because they’ve been in contact with the Protector. You must fetch the true Protector. My woods are under assault, and the leech has grown too strong.”
“Leech,” Hekla repeated. “Do you mean the mist? What can you tell us about it?”
Tiny tail tucked up, the woman leveled her with a stern look. “It lives, yet it does not breathe. It is vast, yet small to the eye. It is the un-maker. It takes that which is natural and makes it…other.”
“Chaos,” said Rey.
The Maiden cocked her head to the side. “Unraveling of natural order. The corruption of bonds. The ruination of my forest. It is why I have called upon the Protector for help.”
“Are you saying,” said Thrand Long Sword, scratching his beard, “that the leech is Myrkur?”
The tiny woman’s glare was fierce enough that Thrand retreated a step. “No, you fool. The leech is Myrkur’s progeny. And thus the magic they carry is similar.”
Rey’s jaw hardened. “Chaos magic. This…leech has seeped into your forest from Myrkur’s realm.”
“The heartwood,” murmured the Maiden. “It is the name of a grove of ancient trees in the Western Woods. Here the roots of the elder trees grow the deepest…this is where the leech climbed into this world.”
“Elder trees. Do you mean the hjarta trees?” Rey’s gaze grew distant. “They are blessed by Sunnvald.”
The Maiden began pacing on the soft, verdant grass.
“Yes, the Sun God’s ashes fell upon these trees.
The hjarta trees are the beating heart of the woods.
Like mothers, they nurture those all around them through a lattice of threads beneath the soil.
When the leech took the largest of the hjarta trees, it gained control of this webwork, pulling the life force from the trees and plants all around it.
“I tried to heal the hjarta tree, but it was too late. It is no longer as nature intended. Where once sweet, nurturing sap flowed is now thick, black ichor. Great burls grow and burst. The tree’s sturdy wood is fortified by things I do not understand, all of it protecting the leech.
Only the Protector can undo this great wrong. ”
“How does this tree tie into the mist?” Hekla asked.
“Mist!” spat the forest spirit. “Mist is the essence of the forest. That is not mist. It is the leech’s progeny, seeking new hosts.”
“Hosts,” Rey repeated. “Are you saying…the leech lives in the Turned creatures?”
“It pulls the life force from the forest. Channels it into that deviant tree. And then it sends out seeds of destruction. When these seeds plant themselves, they grow and spread and seize control.”
Hekla glanced at Rey. “If the leech controls the draugur, could Myrkur do so, too? Is it He who has instructed them to travel to Rokksgarde?”
Rey’s gaze grew distant as he rubbed his beard. “If so, then our need to destroy the hjarta tree is even greater than we thought. We must stop the leech from spreading its poison and Turning the good people of íseldur to Myrkur’s cause.”
“The leech must have a weakness,” said Eyvind. He turned to the Forest Maiden. “Fire?”
“An axe,” suggested Thrand.
Poison, signed Sigrún.
The tiny winged woman pursed her lips in distaste. “The tree the leech inhabits is impenetrable. All I know is that I was once warned by Sunnvald to call upon the Protector should seeds of chaos ever be sown in my forest.”
“I can fetch the Protector,” said Rey cautiously, “although she cannot come straightaway.”
Hekla’s gaze snapped to him, but his expression was unreadable. Axe Eyes was beyond an asset to this mission. He was a fount of knowledge on monsters and battle tactics; a leader whom all looked up to. Was he truly suggesting he might not see this through?
But as a groove formed between his black brows, Hekla guessed he was thinking about the weight on Silla’s shoulders—the bargain living in her blood, and her need to unite the jarls of the north.
Sympathy twinged in Hekla’s chest, and she was mildly disappointed that she was not, in fact, the Protector—that she could not take some of the burden from Silla.
“I will bring her,” said Rey. The confidence in his voice told Hekla a decision had been made.
She glanced about to see if the others felt the same trepidation she did, but they did not seem to be fazed in the least. “But,” Rey continued, “how, precisely, is she to defeat this foe? She shows Ashbringer intuition—”
The Forest Maiden lifted a hand. “I know nothing but that the Sun God granted the Protector some weapon. A thing to wield against His trickster brother.” She closed her eyes, growing silent for a long moment.
“I have few eyes left in these woods, but some of the trees still heed my call. They tell me of a great gathering in the heartwood. There the leech assembles a vast army of the un-made. In order to reach the tree, we will have to battle through thousands of its soldiers.”
Kritka let out a strange, squirrelly howl.
“Thousands?” muttered Thrand, putting a hand to his forehead.
“The trees have shown me the breadth of the leech’s army, and I tell you this, mortals.” The winged woman looked about. “Your numbers are not great enough to stand a fighting chance. You’ll need more—many more able-bodied warriors.”
Silence stretched out in the wake of her words until Rey cleared his throat. “I will return to Kopa to fetch the Protector,” he said. “And while I am there, I will muster more warriors.”
“Talk to Atli,” suggested Eyvind. “He’ll be able to help.”
The groove between Rey’s brows was back, his lips pulling into a look of distaste.
But before Hekla could ponder it, Rey’s axe eyes had landed on her.
“It is clear to me,” he said slowly, “there is one more suited to leading the task in the woods than I. This duty and great honor I pass to you, Rib Smasher.”
Hekla stared at him, doubt brewing inside her.
Had he not just seen her cower before the great spider?
She’d faltered when these warriors had needed leadership the most. Hekla glanced around, trying to read the group’s reaction.
But rather than apprehension or doubt, they seemed in agreement of this plan.
As she met Eyvind’s gaze, lit with pride, determination sparked to life deep inside her.
This was her chance to see this job through.
To prove to men like Loftur what she could truly accomplish.
Hekla squared her shoulders. “Are you all on board?” She examined all those standing in the glade—Gunnar and Sigrún, Thrand and the rest of the warriors from Kopa. As the chorus of ayes filled the glade, her determination only grew.
“Then it is settled,” said the Forest Maiden to Hekla. “You, the one to whom my foot soldier has bound himself. You will bring me to the southwestern reaches of the woods, to the place where the other fragment of my being lies dormant.”
Hekla’s chest clenched as she saw íseldur’s map in her mind. It was as far away as one could get in the Western Woods. “Southwestern…but that is an impossible distance.”
“Not with my magic,” said the Forest Maiden.
“Once I am fully restored, then I’ll be able to call to my children—those forest creatures who escaped the boundaries of the woods before the leech could claim them—and awaken the forest spirits.
We will gather an army of our own. And then we will meet the Protector in the heartwood and do battle with the corrupted. ”
The Maiden glanced at the skies. “The leech is weakened by the light of the moons. It would be to our advantage to do battle when Marra is next at her fullest.”
“But that is…” Rey thought for a moment. “Just over three weeks from now. And factoring in travel…” He paused. “That leaves me a fortnight to muster an army.”
“Yes,” said the Maiden, unconcerned. “And the longer we wait, the stronger the leech grows. It will create more un-made. Venture farther from the woods. Its hunger will never be satisfied—it will feast and feast until all plants and creatures in this realm have succumbed to it. We must act quickly.”
Kritka’s eager howl filled the woods, and it was infectious. Despite the impossibility of the task before them, Hekla’s spirits lifted.
At last, they had a plan.