Winterfire

Chapter Forty-three

Lucan

Garm’s oversized foot caught me in the chest, knocking the air from my lungs. I tumbled over the rocks and would have fallen all the way down had my foot not become wedged between two boulders, arresting my fall. I hit my head on a rock and twisted my ankle, but other than that, I was all right. I clawed back over the boulders and through the mud. I dragged my sleeve across my eyes, wiping the blood from the cut and popped my head up several paces to the left of Lif. One look at Garm’s yellow eyes and I knew he meant to kill her before dealing with me; Garm would not be distracted. If I could get close enough to use Tyrfing— even if just to jab at the dog—Garm might react for a second or two. He might step away, giving Lif room to draw the hammer back and throw it.

I tightened my grip on Tyrfing and tensed my legs to leap. Then I watched, dumbfounded, as Breyta slipped from Lif’s hand, Garm’s fangs a hair’s breadth from her face. Why had she not struck? The dog was too close for her to throw the hammer, but she could have hit him with it. Garm’s head jerked up. He put his paw tentatively into the spot Lif had been crouched, instead of where she actually was. He took a step backward, his head twitching this way and that, searching. I could see the glint of Breyta’s blade on the ground. I saw Lif reach down and grasp the hammer.

I didn’t have time to wonder why Garm didn’t attack Lif because the dog shifted his attention back to me. I leapt over the boulders and landed hard on my sore ankle, forcing me to drop down on one knee, right below the dog. Garm’s belly was above me, so I thrust Tyrfing into the dog.  At the same moment, Lif rose, now behind Garm, and buried Breyta’s blade in his neck.

Garm whipped his head around and snapped at Lif. She managed to jerk back just far enough to avoid his teeth, but the giant dog swatted at her with his paw, catching the side of her head.  Before Lif even hit the ground, I yanked Tyrfing from the hound's gut and hacked off one of his back legs. His body shuddered. He staggered and looked back at his severed leg. Then collapsed on me, knocking the air out of me for the second time that night. I felt him draw his last breath. I watched his eyes glaze over as he stared at Lif.

Lif's head was bleeding, but she hadn't been knocked out. She crawled over to me and pressed her forehead against mine. We lay still for several minutes. “Are you all right?” I said.

She nodded. “Apparently, we don't die easily, ” she said. She took hold of my arms and heaved me from beneath Garm’s body before she pulled Breyta from the dog’s neck. Then she collapsed beside me. I wiggled my legs and feet. Nothing seemed to be broken.

“What just happened?” I asked. “Why did Garm turn away from you?”

Lif smiled down at me. “I forgot to tell you about one of my special talents. For just a few moments, I can disappear.”

“Disappear? I saw Garm snarling in your face. I saw you drop Breyta. Then I watched, as Garm seemed to lose sight of you somehow. I saw you pick up Breyta, and then Garm came for me.”

“Urd, one of the Norns, showed me that I have the ability to disappear. It only lasts for a few minutes, and it doesn’t work on everybody. When Urd suggested I’d probably been doing it my whole life, I realized I had, but I knew it had never worked on you. I was so terrified when Garm was growling in my face that I couldn’t think what to do. I knew if I hit him at such close range, it would only serve to anger him. I knew you were too far away to help me. Then I remembered I could disappear, and so I did. I rolled away from the spot I’d been crouched in and got behind him. That’s why Garm couldn’t touch me. I don’t actually disappear, you know. My image does. If I’d stayed still, he would have put his massive paw on my head, and we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”

I pulled up my shirttail and wiped the blood from my eyes. In the waning light, I couldn’t tell if it was my blood or Garm’s.

“You’re losing a lot of blood,” Lif said. “We don’t have far to go now, at least, if the tower is our destination. But we’d better take a minute to patch you up.” Lif cut off a piece of her skirt with Breyta and wiped my forehead. The wound still oozed blood. She reached into her pocket and took out the bag of runes. She emptied the runes back into her pocket and cut another piece of her skirt. She wrapped the rune bag with a piece of cloth and placed it firmly atop the gash. She wrapped the fabric around it several times, tucking it in to hold it in place. “Try not to shake your head around too much,” she warned me. “This binding will come loose.”

“I’ll try,” I smiled. “I twisted my ankle, but I can still walk.” I hopped a few steps to prove it.

“You’ll have to lean on me,” said Lif.

We scuttled along as best we could, but our best was frustratingly slow. It was my fault; I was clumsy as I hobbled along , stiff-legged, with Tyrfing in one hand and the other arm around Lif.  Solid, cold air pressed down upon me, its icy fingers clawed the back of my neck. My ankle was swollen and useless. My head throbbed and blood tricked into my eyes. The colorless world spun around me. Every step I took felt as though I were dragging my legs through deep mud. My clothes were damp and muddy from crawling on the ground, and I began to shiver. I had no idea where Hodmimir's Holt was; we'd decided to make for the tower because we didn't know what else to do. I was cold, exhausted, and I had less hope than even when I’d fallen into the sea.

“Lif,” I said.  “Surely, this is the night of which the Norns have spoken, the night I will die. And worst of all, I’ll not die in a vicious fight with some horrible foe; I haven’t saved you, the most precious thing in the Nine Worlds. I’m going to freeze to death on this stark hillside, alone and far from the battleground. I lack even the strength to grip my sword.”

Lif stopped walking and looked down at my word hand. She squeezed my hand around the hilt and held it there. I felt heat travelling up my arm, and I remembered who I was: I was Lifthrasir. Tyrfing chose me. I remembered Cormack’s admonition: a man does not carry Tyrfing half-heartedly. I still carried Tyrfing. I stood straighter, wiped the blood from my eyes, squeezed Lif’s hand and limped faster.