Chapter 21
Crackling fire. Heavy grunts. The clatter of what sounded like…
Bones.
Long, thick bones surrounded me, tied together to form a sort of makeshift cage. They were just close enough together that I couldn’t fit through the cracks, but far enough apart that I could see the rest of the camp. The bear roasted over the fire, turned every now and then by the smallest of the jōt. The high walls of the rocky den bore down, glistening in places where falling water had frozen. Sunset was fast approaching. The sky, or what little I could see of it, glowed a dark orange, offering only minimal light here on the floor of the den.
I shifted my weight, causing a raucous crunch of bones beneath me. A handful of eyes turned sharply in my direction – each one the same slate grey of the stone. One of the giants, the female who had first spotted me, stood and lumbered over, reaching out a hand to shake the cage. I froze, terrified into silence as the bones rattled in warning. Her sheer height looming over me, so close and monstrous, brought tears to my eyes. When she was satisfied that I would make no more noise, she returned to the others.
I sat perfectly still, terror prickling my skin.
This was it. I was living one of the worst possible scenarios I’d imagined, one of the many ways to die here in the mountains. This was just like what had happened to Stína’s grandfather, although I wouldn’t likely end up so well. He’d got free in a stroke of luck, whereas I… Well, there wasn’t much hope of that.
My throat tightened and my eyes burned. I stared into the flames, imagining I was back in the village at one of the bonfires, listening to a story about a dragon made of ice or invisible house elves who would come in with snowstorms to keep the fires going. I might tell one, too, about the stars, or an adventure finding a cave with Ivar.
Ivar.
His face filled my vision, disorderly tawny hair and eyes that could smile even when his mouth didn’t. I stared at him in my mind, holding the gaze of those sea-storm-blue eyes for as long as I could until the vision began to fade. The thought of never seeing that face again, never again seeing the way he looked at me, like he truly saw me and everything that I was and wanted to be, was a kind of pain I wasn’t built to bear.
I’d tried, and at least I could die with that certainty. I’d left the village to get help, knowing the risks. Knowing what could happen. Perhaps, though hope was small, someone else from the village would try. Perhaps Ivar would follow me to the mountains and finish what I wasn’t able to. Perhaps someone else would save Skane. This treacherous and wonderful island would mean enough to someone to risk everything they had to save it.
The evening grew ever darker. I strained to look up and see my stars, but they were blotted out by the walls of the den and the smoke from the fire. Even without being able to see them, I kept staring. They were up there, somewhere, and somehow just knowing that helped to instil a peace in my heart that made thoughts of my forthcoming death a little easier to deal with.
In the distance, a wolf let out a long, lonely howl. The sound and the ensuing echoes made my skin prickle, but the giants didn’t seem to take notice. Their lack of interest in such a frightening sound only worked to remind me that they were the ones to be feared, here in the mountains. I was a captive of the highest in command, of the creatures at the pinnacle of the predator chain.
At length, one of the giants deemed the bear to be finished, and they removed it from the spit. Their eating of it did not seem to be governed by any sort of order. They pulled and tore and argued until there was nothing left but bloodied bones. I forced my eyes away, nauseated by the carnage that to them was no more than a standard meal. Even without looking, the sounds were inescapable as they picked away at every last bit of meat. It took them only minutes to finish the thing, and afterwards, it was obvious that the bear hadn’t been enough. They poked around at the pile of bones, grunted every now and then, and one even made a show of rubbing its belly.
If the jōt were still hungry, and the bear was gone…
I swallowed, almost forgetting how to breathe.
One of the giants turned to stare at me, a knowing gleam in its large eye. No. Not me. It stood and moved towards me, grunting to the others who nodded enthusiastically, rising and tripping over the bear’s carcass as they made their way towards my cage. I shrank away as far from them as I could go, my back pressed against the bony confines made from the skeleton of the Goddess knows what.
“No,” I said aloud, shaking my head as though it would make any difference to them. “No, no, no.”
One of the giants licked their lips, and in one far too easy motion, broke apart my cage. It splintered into a hundred pieces, shards raining down on to the ground. On an impulse, I leaped up and made to run under their legs. Perhaps if I was small enough and fast enough I could outsmart and outrun them, then disappear into the night and hide in a tree until morning. I saw all of it in a flash, all of the possibilities of surviving tonight, of making it out of this damned den alive.
But a large, roughened hand closed around me before I’d made it more than a few metres. I fought against it, kicking and pushing and screaming to get free, but it was far too strong and I was far too small. I shrank into a ball and shut my eyes as the world spun around me, the fire coming ever closer.
This was how it would end. After seventeen years of daily reminders of my failures, of scorn and aversion for having inadvertently ended the life of my mother, I would die failing to save my village. Sobs shook my body and I covered my face with my arms. I didn’t want to see the flames. Didn’t want to see my death. If this was how it would come, let it come while I closed my eyes and thought of those I’d left behind.
Something cold brushed against my arm on the way up to my face. I sat upright in the giant’s hand, as they seemed to be deliberating over something through the use of grunts and hand motions. My knife. They’d forgotten to remove my knife: it offered just enough of a distraction for me to escape.
In a swift motion, I pulled the knife from my belt and plunged it into the giant’s hand. It roared in surprise and pain, and dropped me. The world blurred and spun as I fell, and when I hit the ground, all the air burst from my lungs. I fought to take in a breath, but it was as if my body had forgotten how to work. Odd gasping sounds came from my throat as I forced small bits of air back into my desperate lungs.
Overhead, silhouetted against the glow of the large bonfire, the giant whom I’d injured raised a great fist that would, any second now, come crashing down. I couldn’t yet breathe enough to even roll away, so I closed my eyes so I wouldn’t see the motion that would end my life. In the midst of my panic, I again thought of Ivar’s face, let it hang in my mind so it would be the last thing I’d remember. The last thing I’d see. Something about seeing his face this time – the last time – awoke in me an emotion I’d never felt. A feeling I didn’t recognize. Unfamiliar as it was, it flooded me with a warmth that made these last few seconds just a bit more bearable.
Silence.
All sound in the den had ceased. I opened my eyes to find the giant still standing there, fist raised to crush me, but it was looking away into the night. I could feel it listening, ears straining.
Song notes rose in the darkness, frightening and enchanting all at once.
I’d heard those notes before, while walking through the forest with Ri. It was much closer this time, hovering somewhere just outside the den. Although … I realized all at once that it wasn’t just one voice. There were several joining together, surrounding the den. The giants began to draw nearer to one another, almost as if they were…
Frightened.
What would frighten the jōt?
Something white shot out of the dark and wrapped itself around the giant’s fist. It roared in anger and clawed at the stuff, but it wouldn’t move. The others began to run around frantically, covering their heads and howling so deeply it shook the earth. For a moment, I was stunned into quiet stillness. None of the events going on around me seemed to make sense, and yet, in the background of my shock, I knew I didn’t have the time to understand it. I leaped to my feet and searched for the exit to the den.
The notes had stopped, but without waiting to see if the giants were collecting themselves, I bolted for the opening. Thundering footsteps followed me, but I didn’t turn to look. I willed my legs to move faster than they’d ever moved before. I ran and ran and ran, yet the footsteps behind me only grew closer and louder. If I could just get into those trees and surround myself with darkness, I could disappear.
So close. So close.
Something yanked my arm, pulling me sideways into a snowbank.
Then all was silent.