Chapter Twenty-One:
The Witching Hour
There's a moment in every archer's life when they realize that their chosen weapon has a fatal flaw. As a horde of goblins came down upon me, I finally reached that moment.
Skadi gave me extra arrows after I'd slain the Draugr. But even with thirty-some arrows in my quiver, there were fifteen goblins not including Lydian, and in the havoc my odds were pretty dim.
The bow was a hunter's weapon; used on animals, not for melee combat. I was understanding more and more why Soren carried a knife and two swords along with his bow and quiver. The stiletto was strapped to my side and the short, slender blade would be my only defense from a close attack.
Smoke from the fire burned my eyes as the wind whisked it up into the air. Inhaling, I tasted iron and copper on my tongue. The billowing darkness around me would've made a lesser hunter blind, but not me. Behind me, the sound of Soren and Lydian's fighting dwindled into the distance as their battle brought them farther and farther away.
When the first goblin descended upon me, I shot an arrow through him before he got close enough to strike. Whipping around, I let the arrows fly, two in one go, then three, using the maneuvers my father taught me long ago and Soren perfected.
Soren and Lydian disappeared in the blinding smoke. My eyes were streaming with tears but there was no time to wipe them away. Somewhere in this kilometer, Lydian and Soren were fighting. Somewhere in this kilometer was the Stag.
The sky would fall before I let Lydian get to it first.
Blood splashed on the back of my neck and I turned, arrow nocked to see a goblin with a blade sticking through its mouth. From behind the long staff, Seppo smiled grimly. "It seems like my plan isn't going to work very well."
I laughed, surprising myself. "It's about time these crazy plans caught up to us! We'll figure it out," I said, aiming above his head at a goblin in the trees.
Another goblin swung at him, but he caught his blade with the metal shaft of his staff. The air stirred around me and I turned, ducking just in time before another goblin sliced my neck open.
The fight was almost like a dance. I wasn't as in sync as I'd been with Soren, but we were good enough. He slaughtered the goblins close enough to use their short-range weapons and I picked off the ones who stayed behind, one by one, until they were falling out of the trees.
We stood back-to-back, the sharpness of his bones pressing into my skin, as we fought off the every-growing horde.
"I thought he only had fifteen men left!" I shouted and cringed as a goblin's sword swiped at my side, tearing apart my tunic and leaving the skin beneath it warm and bloody. Before the man could do any worse, Seppo's blade was in his chest and the man's body was flung into the distance.
"I thought so too!" Seppo shouted. I aimed another arrow over his head just as one of the creatures jumped down from a tree.
Deep in the forest, a shriek pierced the dawn. Following that was a large crash and the sounds of power twisting and rebelling. The shriek, though I'd never heard such a thing before, could only be Soren's.
"I have to find him!" I eyed the remaining goblins. Dead bodies littered the ground, some full of puncture marks and deep gashes were Seppo'd disemboweled them, some riddled with arrows from the shots I took. Blood was sticky underneath my feet and the air was tinged with the scent of copper and iron, both burned my lungs just as much as the smoke. There were still eyes everywhere, peering from the trees and the bushes, from the harsh starkness on the other side of the boundary. If I left Seppo, he'd have to fight them all.
We locked eyes. "I can do it," he said. "I'll hold them off. You need to find Soren and the Stag." The howling wind blew his voice away and stung like lashes on my face. Embers floated through the air and burned my skin. The pain could've been a pinprick for all I felt.
My heart beat wildly; I needed to get out of here, save Soren, save the Stag. Dread churned inside me as I reached for the power in the air; Soren's was gone. Worse, so was the Stag's.
Seppo twirled his staff, carving a path for me out of the bodies in my wake. "Janneke," he called, "be careful."
We shared once last glance and friendship and worry sparkled in his dark blue eyes. I knew my own eyes sent the same message to him. Whatever happened tonight, Seppo would always be my ally, my friend.
The goblins that hadn't been fatally injured were regrouping. Without another word I shot westward past the wounded horde and down the border of the Permafrost.
Beneath my feet the soil was pulsing with the power of the ancient land, the boundary between the worlds precariously hanging on a thread. Blood rushed in my ears as I expanded my sense to find Soren. He had to be on the boundary, that could be the only place Lydian would make him fight. That way the Stag would be forced there too.
Still, the thrumming rhythm of the Stag's hooves evaded me; they'd been inside my head ever since the dream of the Burnt Land where he showed me the seeds that burned in my pocket even now. I tried to feel it, his regal, beautiful air, the ancient wisdom that pulsed from him like lifeblood. But there was nothing in the wind; just like in the dream the creature was silent as it ran.
But the battle wasn't and I raced toward the sounds of breaking trees and animalistic shrieks, ignoring my burning, oxygen starved muscles. I was all too well aware the beating my body took in the past few days and the fact that the fire was stealing what little energy that remained.
When I saw them, I swore my heart stopped. Fear trickled down my spine like a stream; I froze, unable to do anything but watch. Both barely looked like men. Their bodies were hunched over, their hands and feet stretched out like the paws of a large animal, fangs glistened at their lips, and the sounds they uttered were anything but human. Spines protruded from their back and their bones stuck out at gross angles; their hair tumbling down like a waterfall of blood.
A flash of green and gold caught my eye as the Lydian-creature saw me in the trees, but before he could attack, the Soren-creature lunged at him, his jaws snapping at his rival's neck. All I could do was stand staring, paralyzed by fear. Every instinct told me to run and get away from these creatures as fast as possible. My body screamed as it took in the carnage and the creature that was Soren, rejecting it fiercely. He couldn't be that hideous, he couldn't be that cruel, with blood dripping from his nails and his teeth bared in a wicked snarl. But deep inside I knew this was his truest form. I'd come to terms with what he was long ago. Whatever state he was in now, somehow, I had to believe he wouldn't hurt me.
So I forced my frozen muscles to run toward the fighting goblins, my eyes open for the Stag as I did. Soren was trying to push Lydian out of the edge of the Permafrost, back into the human world, but Lydian swung at him and sent him soaring back into the trunk of a skeleton tree. With a sickening crack, the tree split open.
He raced forward to land another blow at the same time I crashed into him, sending him tumbling away from Soren's still body.
Lydian hissed and the sound sent shivers down my spine. We grappled in the dirt until he was over me. I spit in his face and drove my knee into his crotch, but all he did was extend his claws and reach for my heart.
They never got a chance to pierce my flesh. Soren slammed into Lydian and both of them rolled far away from where I lay. I stood and backed up, body quivering. Whatever strength Lydian had before, it was tenfold now.
Soren's eyes locked onto mine, his gaze wide with surprise. Even though every inch of him was monstrous, his eyes were the same shade of lilac. Lydian swiped at him, bringing his attention back to his enemy. Soren snarled and dove in, and they wrestled like cats on the ground.
It was impossible to help Soren. But I had to do something. If Seppo was dealing with the rest of the horde by himself, then there must've been something I could do.
You need to find the Stag, a voice said in my mind. You need to find the Stag.
When I extended my power there was still no heartbeat, but a tugging in my gut told me the animal was close. Find him, the voice said. Find him. I raced through the trees again, down the boundary line. It took everything in me to tear myself away from Soren and Lydian and leave them to their fate. I was never meant for that fight. Now my feet followed a path both unfamiliar, yet called to me like I'd ran it a hundred times before. The voice in my head grew louder, calling my name, shouting for me to spring across the blazing landscape, jump higher over the burning branches, ignore the pain, ignore the tiredness, ignore everything but the voice and the calling and the path it set my feet upon.
I stumbled as I got nearer to the fire's edge, the smoke filling my lungs forcing me to the ground so I could crawl and suck in the sweet oxygen that remained. One of my hands rested on the freezing soil of the Permafrost, the other on the crisp grass and leaf mold of the living world. I dragged myself, blood smearing from a wound I hadn't known I had, through the burning forest, seeking the voice. Seek air, seek shelter, seek warmth, seek blood. It chanted inside of me to a rhythm similar to a hunting song. Seek water, seek fire, seek darkness, seek light. Seek past, seek present, seek future, seek fate. I will await you. Not much further, now.
I rolled over as a large branch blazing with the iron fire fell to the ground. My lungs were crying out for air and my muscles burned with every move I made, the mud and ice from the ground stung in wounds I was finally starting to feel. Something inside me broke but whether it was mind or body, it didn't matter. All that mattered was the path and the glowing silver light crowding my vision. It pulsed as it glowed, sending out thicker and thicker beams of stunning white light. At each pulse, the voice called for me.
My heart sunk deep into my chest as I finally viewed the Stag. His body was lying limp on the border of the Permafrost and his fur, once pure white, was matted with the blackish blood of goblins and the red blood of living things. His chest rose and fell, each breath faint and weak, and his massive head rose until he could look me in the eyes.
Despite his wounded body and his troubled breathing, his dark brown eyes were clear as day. I crawled over to him, ignoring the sting of the smoke in my eyes. The fire was so close that the heat seared my skin; the multi-colored flames dancing before my eyes like starlight. I coughed, blood splattering against the forest floor. Above me, the sky lightened and the dusky grey became a calm blue. The Witching Hour was almost over.
I stumbled to the Stag and pressed my hand against the wound in his flank. The knife that caused it was still driven deep into the flesh. I yanked it out and cringed at the blood-covered blade. It was Lydian's. Blood spurted from the wound and I put pressure against it with my hands.
"Don't die." I wondered if the Stag could understand me or hear the desperation in my voice. "Please don't die, not here!" I took the giant animal by the antlers and prayed I could pull it over to one side of the border. If it died on one side only, Lydian would still be the Erlking, but the Stag wouldn't die and Lydian wouldn't reign forever.
The animal made a pained sound in the back of his throat and I let go, apologizing. Fingers with talons for nails dug at my ankles, pulling me back and away from the Stag with a grip so strong that a steady stream of blood started to flow from newly made cuts. I thrashed as Lydian pulled me back. Gone was the hunched over body, and the almost cat-like prowl that accented his every move. Gone were the hands and feet like an animal's paws. But even without those things, he was still as much of a monster as before. And he was growling at delight as he pulled me close.
I grabbed the stiletto from where it sat pinned between the ground and my body and shoved it at his side but he caught the blade before it could pierce his skin and with a newly-bloodied hand tore it out of my grip and into the fire.
"What?" he laughed. "Did you think you could save it? Did you think I would let you have any chance? That I'd be so sloppy?"
I bared my teeth, struggling underneath his body. My body crawled with disgust at the touch of his skin on mine. He caught my chin and cheek with the palm of his hand, his thumb slowly going over my skin. As it did, the nail grew longer, carving a line of blood across my face. When his thumb reached my lips I didn't hesitate before biting down hard enough to hear a crack. Dark, putrid blood pooled in my mouth and I spat out it along with Lydian's thumb. A shard of white bone poked through the crooked finger.
The goblin grimaced in pain before striking me so hard my vision went black.
"Don't you realize that this is over?" His voice was high and manic and little laughs burst from his chest. "It's over. It's finally over. Do you know how long I've been waiting for this? Ever since I saw that brat in his mother's womb, I knew. But it's over. He's not coming back!"
The refusal to believe was stronger than adrenaline and I kicked Lydian back, breathing heavily.
"Soren is—" I barely got the sentence out before Lydian lunged at me again, the force of his body rolling us forward in the dirt. Like before, he came up on top of me.
"Don't you get it?" he snarled, his canines were as long as dog fangs and both dripped blood. "He's dead, you idiot! And soon the Stag will be too and I'll have fixed everything. You could've lived too, you stupid little girl. Escaped fate. You could've lived and none of this would be your problem. You could've defied nature and lived. You stupid, stupid little girl."
Soren was dead. Soren was dead. Those words rung in my ears, repeating like an endless mantra. Soren is dead. Soren is dead. Soren is dead. But it wasn't possible; I'd know. I would know.
Lydian grinned at the panic on my face. Numbness spread through my body and I went limp underneath him. For a long second there was nothing besides despair, pain, and the hollowness in my chest. Then the rage kicked in and I lashed out, my fist flying straight into Lydian's nose. There was another sickening crunch as black blood poured from the break. Soren was dead. Okay. I would mourn him, but now was not the time. Now was the time to make sure that Lydian would never wield the power of the Stag and if I failed, now was the time to ensure he would never take me alive.
The mountains would burn before I let him.
Lydian clutched his nose and I wriggled out from under him back toward the Stag. But no sooner than I'd escaped, he grabbed me again and yanked me back, pinning me with his knees.
"Don't you get it, girl?" he snarled, his crazed green eyes cloudy. "It's over. He's gone. That repulsive brat will never ru—"
He stopped abruptly, eyes widened in surprise as he looked down at his chest. There was a gurgle, then a stomach churning as Lydian fell always. His mouth was open as he gasped for breath, blood pouring from the hole in his chest.
Soren stood above me, Lydian's still beating heart gripped in his hand. He dropped it and then fell to his knees. I smelled the injuries on him, the burns, too many to name. His waist-length hair was all but burnt away, now only brushing up against his shoulders. His clothes were tarnished, ruined and ripped, full of blackened blood. The same blood oozed from a million small cuts, a thousand sores, and a hundred deep gashes.
Lydian looked down to the hole in chest and then at me. His mouth opened and he grabbed my leg. A chill crept through my body at the words that entered uninvited in my head. What happens when the serpent stops eating his tail? In his last second, his eyes grew clear. "What happens?" he mouthed and then grew still.
"You always talked too much." Soren collapsed, fighting for his breath. The sky was alight now with streaks of dawn and the fire burned low to the ground. From behind me someone shouted our names but I didn't listen. All I could think about was the Stag lying on the border dying by Lydian's blow—Lydian, who was now dead. The voice came again, the bright blinding light and I forced myself to ignore Soren and crawl toward the dying Stag. It didn't matter that Lydian was dead; he'd gotten the Stag on the border. The mantle of the Erlking couldn't pass on, not even to Soren—now the rightful ruler. The Stag would die his final death and with it so would any chance of a normal world.
It flashed before my eyes. Summers where black snow littered the ground, winters where the ice was red and hot to touch. Humans born with horns and svartelves with the skin still attached to their back; goblins perishing with nothing left to contain their power. The water from the sea rose into the sky, the mountains crumbled to the grounds, and the dying cries of wolves, and Folk, and men echoed across the land like the songs of the damned. A ship made of human nails broke from it's harbor and a snake ate his tail on and on in an endless cycle. What happens when the serpent stops eating his tail? The taunting voice of Lydian haunted me even in his death, infusing me with one last mad riddle that only I would know.
I dragged myself over to the Stag and his eyes met mine. They were young and ancient and everything in between. His voice called to me, deep and comforting inside of my head, and without hesitation I covered his body with my own as a blinding silver light flooded the border of the world.