18. Bryn
Bryn
Henrik and I scrambled down the metallic mound, boots clattering against all manner of treasure and accoutrement.
Of course we ran into a worst-case scenario. Or almost worst-case scenario. The worst would be to end up dead.
As we reached the bottom of the pile, I grabbed a platter, spun, and threw it like a disc at Hrim.
The metal clinked against his broad chest, chipping the tiniest shard off him.
His eyes narrowed toward me, and my gut sank as another piece of metal hurtled through the cave and crashed against his shoulder.
The beast slowly turned his anger toward one of the sailors as more treasure flew at him.
Distraction.
Perfect.
Time to move.
I ran around to the far side of the cave. Darkness crept out of the far corners, cloaking me in an appreciated layer of shadows. A smile tilted my lips. Hrim wasn’t paying attention back here. His focus was on the sailors on his flanks and the onslaught of shiny detritus.
“Careful not to disturb the main mound too much!” Henrik commanded. “We don’t know what’s underneath!”
My stomach plummeted. I hadn’t even thought about that. Usually I was so aware of all my variables—exits, pitfalls, obstacles—but I hadn’t even considered something lying in wait beneath the treasure. Ancestors, please let it just be gold.
The sailors worked together in perfect synchrony, crafting waves of water that gathered up lumps of gold and metallic debris around the edge of the cavern and blasted it toward the giant.
Hrim bellowed and swatted aside the assault.
I ducked beneath another wave of treasure, narrowly missing being clobbered by a Viking helmet. The barrage knocked Hrim aside, giving me the opening I needed to sprint and climb. Gold glinted at my feet and my heart hammered like an ancient drumbeat. One step. Another. Another again.
Something smashed against the mound and frost burst across every surface. My boots slipped, knees crashing against metal, and I scrambled for purchase against a bronze shield. My fingers and legs smarted from the cold impact, nails raking and cracking as I tried, desperately, to hold on…
It was useless.
Staring up at the glass box I’d been aiming for, I slid down the mound like an abandoned sack of old potatoes.
Hrim crawled up to the top of his little mountain once more, prowling like a wolf protecting its den.
Damn. There was no way for any of us to get closer to the box. Then again, perhaps he thought we were here to steal from him…
“We need to regroup,” I muttered.
“Retreat!” Henrik yelled from beside me.
Had he been there the entire time? I clearly needed to focus on my surroundings more.
We sprinted back toward the entrance where Laknar and his guards waited like stone statues. Meanwhile, Hrim slunk back, assessing his disturbed trove—a menace waiting and preparing for the next attack.
“Anyone injured?” Henrik surveyed the gathered group. “No one missing?”
With a shake of my head, I panted and looked around the group. We were all still alive, thank the ancestors, but several sailors had amassed some scrapes, and I could feel a tingling sensation across my knees and fingers that usually meant I’d broken the skin.
“We have to find a better way,” one sailor said.
“Can we not throw the pendant at him?” another added on a ragged breath.
All eyes swung to me, and my shoulders tensed.
I’d thought of that. Strongly considered it as soon as I saw the frost giant, but my gut had screamed at me.
And while I’d made considerably unconsidered choices in the past, I always, without fail, listened to my gut.
It had kept me alive this long and my coffers filled with treasure.
There was a delicateness to the necklace.
While it was sturdy in some ways, I got the sense that it would shatter if it landed a certain direction.
Perhaps it was the thinness around the edges, the way it tapered to a point at the bottom, or the clarity within the stone itself?
No, if this landed and shattered, we’d all be dead.
The object in question pulsed in my pouch as if it could hear my thoughts and wanted to be protected.
Henrik nudged my elbow with his own. “Bryn?”
I shook myself from my thoughts. “Protect my back. Let me get to that crystal box on top of the mound. It needs to be put back where I found it.”
Nods intermingled with a whispered, “How in the ancestors’ names did she get it in the first place?”
Henrik’s eyes narrowed, silencing the speaker.
A grinding noise turned our attention back to the center of the room.
Hrim stepped off the mound, opened his arms wide, tilted his head back, and roared.
The entire cave shook, shards of ice falling from the ceiling and clattering against the mound of treasure in the room.
I raised my arms on instinct, shielding my head from any debris—grateful that none came.
“You heard the woman,” Henrik said, that commanding tone back in his voice, “protect her back at all costs. That’s an order.”
“Aye, Captain!”
“Aye,” I whispered on a trembling breath.
Henrik turned to me, gentle fingers touching my elbow. “You can do this, Bryn.”
I stared up into that handsome and considerate face.
“We’re here to protect you.”
My body shuddered in time with the quaking ground. I’d never heard those words before. Never felt the truth of that sentiment. Not until now. Not until him.
Cracks rent the air, and I peered up just in time to see icy stalactites breaking from the ceiling.
The large icicles crashed to the floor, sending shards and sailors flying away from the points of impact.
The sight turned my stomach and worsened when five of the icy mounds continued moving, shifting, morphing.
“Shite.”
“Run, now.” Henrik nudged me into the open.
Skeletal arms protruded and grew from the piles of ice and snow, molding into the monsters that had attacked us on the ship.
“Attack!”
“Move!”
“Full force, crew!”
Everything and everyone moved, myself included. I sprung from my spot, dagger raised, and launched toward the closest ice monster. Those pale eyes swung to me as I made contact with its extended arm.
It hissed, but my blade merely clattered off him.
Stumbling back, I pulled on my power and heated up my dagger with a swarm of boiling water.
Slashing my way through the melee, I moved like the tide, retreating and advancing, knocking down as many foes as I could.
My shoulders ached with every hit, but an energy hummed through my veins.
Monsters melted at my touch, steam rising from their gaping wounds.
One of the ice monsters speared a talon through a sailor’s arm, unleashing a crimson fountain and a wail of pain. He’d left his flank open and vulnerable…
I barreled toward the duo, slid onto my thigh across the floor, and swiped my legs against those of the ice monster. Agony seared my shins as the being tilted and toppled. He crashed to the ground, and I righted myself, chest heaving.
“Finish him,” I ordered and spun, keeping my target—the glass box—in sight.
“Yes, ma’am.”
I didn’t have time to dwell on the novelty of being called that. There was too much water, ice, and debris flying around.
Grabbing a discarded shield, I hoisted it up as spears of ice flew toward my head. They shattered against the metal, reverberations trembling through my forearm and rattling my teeth. That was far too close.
I leaped over a large candelabra, ran around an overturned chest, and narrowly avoided tripping on a rusty anchor. The mound was right there. A few more steps and—
Something cold latched around my free wrist and I spun.
A blank face, ice filling the eye sockets, a frosty chill that clawed its way up my captured arm.
My stomach sank, and I lashed out at the ice monster with the shield and clobbered it across the head, losing the defensive armor in the process as well as its frigid fingers.
Oh, well. At least I was free of the monster.
Turning back to my task, I screeched to a halt as the air around me grew colder.
Hrim loomed toward me. Piercing eyes, broad chest, and feet the size of boulders. There was no way I could easily get around him and onto the mound. He’d swat or pluck me into the air.
Ancestors save me.
I’d have to run between his legs.
Before I could move, Hrim lashed out, swiping his taloned hand in my direction.
In a blink, a shadow of darkness and navy leaped in front of me.
I gasped. Henrik. Ice met flesh and the man went flying through the air.
Horror filled my veins as his body crashed against the cavern wall with a sickening thwack.
Blood.
Both of them were now covered in blood.
Blood on ice.
Blood on blue.
My stomach inverted and my vision narrowed for a split second before a new instinct kicked in and I ran away from the treasure and toward Henrik.
Crashing to my knees beside him, I holstered my blade and assessed his wounds. His jacket and shirt were torn across the middle, blood staining the material. His eyes fluttered open.
“You’re not following orders,” I said and checked the back of his head for more blood.
“And… What… Might… That… Be?” he croaked.
My hand came back clean. Thank the ancestors. “Not dying.”
“Still… Breathing.”
Based on the darkening patch on his abdomen, that might not be the case for much longer.
Shouts and clattering drew my attention briefly over my shoulder. The sailors were fighting off the frost giant, trying to keep him corralled into a corner on the opposite side of the entrance near us. That wouldn’t last long either. We had to get rid of this necklace and retreat.
“I will tend to him,” a frail voice said, and Laknar appeared at our side.
My eyes went wide. Seeing the old man out here, in the fray, so far from the ship was jarring. “You shouldn’t be here. It’s not safe.”
“Then that is exactly where I should be, young miss.”
“He…” Henrik croaked.
“Stop talking.”
“Captain is trying to inform you that I have far more battle experience than my frail form would imply.”