Warrior of the Wild

by Tricia Levenseller

  Instead, I turn my thoughts to Iric. My friend. I’m doing this for him. He deserves to go home to his family, and we can make that happen.

  If we don’t die first.

  Soren reaches his spear but has to untangle it from some thick grasses. Iric is next to him, helping.

  The hyggja disappeared in a direction over Soren’s and Iric’s heads, and I watch that spot with a critical eye, my lungs starting to grow uncomfortable.

  I’m struck with a thought all of a sudden. The need to turn around and look over my shoulder becomes so strong, I can’t help but listen.

  And when I spin, it’s to find jaws open wide, only feet from my head.

  I throw my spear up on instinct—not horizontal as if aiming before a throw, but vertical to get it between those jaws—and thrust upward with as much strength as I can muster while underwater. Teeth barrel into me. There’s a quick sting in my arm as I lurch backward, the force of the beast’s swimming propelling me through the water. Something strikes me from behind, and I think I might have slammed into one of the boys, but I can’t be certain. The beast still pushes me through the water.

  Eventually the hyggja changes directions, and the stinging in my arm heightens before I feel teeth dislodging. I tumble backward in a reverse somersault through the water, and a noise comes out of me as my head cracks on the rocky bottom. I don’t see stars, which must be a good sign. There’s only pain in the back of my skull.

  But then I feel the hyggja’s fins skimming over my stomach.

  I scramble, my eyes closing momentarily as mud and plant refuse are churned up by the beast skimming the lake floor.

  I claw my way to the surface. A small burst of red adds to the water as I go, and I look down at my arm. There’s a thin but deep gash, made from a line of teeth, just above my elbow on my forearm.

  Below me, Soren and Iric are both spinning to the side as if they’d been knocked askew. But Soren has his spear unstuck, and he manages to get the rope over one of his shoulders.

  My head finally clears the water, and I take several deep breaths before plunging back into the fray.

  The hyggja is shaking its head from side to side fiercely. Its body spins around, and I get another good look at those teeth. It manages to chomp down on the spear, but instead of breaking the weapon, it sends it all the way through the roof of its mouth, the rope still attached to the tip and now stringing through a hole in the beast’s flesh.

  Brown-black blood clouds into the water around the hyggja, and the beast tries to swim off, probably in an attempt to sneak up on us again. All that does is pull my spear taut lengthwise against the top of the hyggja’s snout. And with my rope still wrapped around my shoulders, it pulls me with it.

  Feeling the rope through its skin, the beast becomes distracted and changes plans, now trying to free itself.

  Soren and Iric take full advantage of that.

  They swim right up to the beast, plant their feet firmly on the ground, and thrust with their spears. The hyggja shrieks, turning over, trying to get away, but all it does is tangle itself in the thick ropes, providing more leverage for Soren and Iric, who hold on to their ropes with all their might.

  The water fills with mud and blood as the beast turns up the lake’s bottom. It becomes impossible for me to see anything.

  I take another break for air, dropping my coil of rope from my shoulders in my haste.

  I breathe deeply, yet rapidly, a few times before submerging myself once more, frantically searching for the boys.

  After swimming lower, I find Iric trying to direct the hyggja toward the shore, a task which he’s having little success with. He’s embedded his spear deeply into the beast’s stomach, pulling with all his might.

  Soren is nowhere to be seen, so I think he’s likely gone for air.

  Why hasn’t Iric done the same?

  The hyggja still squirms, but its movements have slowed. I manage to grab Iric by the arm and pull. At first, he’s reluctant, shrugging out of my grip, but the second time I reach for him, I think he finally takes stock of the air left in his lungs.

  He hands me his rope and propels himself to the surface; the hyggja drags me every which way, rolling, turning, scraping against the bottom. After another tumble, its front fins are sufficiently pinned under layers and layers of rope, and it begins to rely solely on its tail for movement.

  Soren shortly joins me, finding the end of one of the other ropes and holding fast.

  The hyggja starts to turn toward him, finally getting the sense to go after him instead of keeping at its futile attempts to free itself from all the rope.

  I don’t think so.

  Hand over hand I pull myself along the rope as quickly as I can until I reach where it connects with the hyggja’s body. I wrap my legs against its body, and inch upward, closer and closer to the head.

  More and more blood seeps from the creature, slowing its movements even more. It’s the only reason I’m able to reach those jaws, to wrap my arms around the snout and pin it firmly closed.

  Where the hell is Iric?

  My question is answered a moment later, when Iric appears back in the water, holding yet another length of rope. It’s the one he attached to the tree along the lake’s edge. He swims right up to the beast—you’d think he’d never shown any fear about it earlier—and ties the end of the rope around several layers of the coils already pinning the hyggja’s fins down.

  With that done, he kicks for the surface once more. I motion Soren after him.

  It will take two of them to hoist Iric’s prize toward the lake’s edge.

  CHAPTER

  16

  The boys groan from the weight of the hyggja, but I can barely hear it over the sounds of my own breathing. That last round in the water had to have been at least a couple minutes. Either my eyes are watering or the lake water runs down from my hair.

  The beast is only halfway out of the water, its right side exposed to the air, while the left is buried in the lake. Without the buoyancy of the water aiding us, the hyggja becomes far too heavy to manage.

  I turn my body around, holding the jaw closed while getting my feet on the ground in front of it and pushing.

  But it doesn’t make a difference. The hyggja isn’t going anywhere.

  The beast tries to wriggle from side to side. I don’t let go. If the snout gets free, it will still be lethal.

  Iric and Soren stare at me.

  “Do something!” I snap.

  An airy growl spits out between the hyggja’s nostrils, and I look pointedly at Iric.

  He retrieves his ax from the cliff, where he left it with his armor, hoists it over one shoulder, and treads for the hyggja. With Soren at the tail and me at the head, we attempt to hold the beast steady as Iric’s ax hovers over the beast’s neck.

  He swings.

  The neck is so thick, it takes him three tries to cut through the width of it. Each swing sends red-brown water flying through the air, drenching me all over again.

  But I’m finally able to let go. I sprawl onto the ground and just breathe. Nothing else in the world is so important as breathing. Though my limbs are exhausted, triumph pulses under the surface, and I relish the feeling.

  Iric did it.

  And so did I.

  I’m that much closer to defeating Peruxolo.

  I let out a scream of victory, and Soren joins me, the two of us whooping into the air. When Iric doesn’t join us, we go silent, eyes fixed on him.

  “What the hell was that, Soren?” he demands.

  “What?” Soren asks.

  “What was the one rule? Do not go in the water. Soren! I thought you were dead!”

  So quiet, I can barely hear it, Soren says, “You said not to let go. I listened.”

  “I didn’t mean to let yourself get dragged into the water! Why would you do that?”

  “I owed you. I got you banished. I hoped I could help make things right between us again.”

  “You didn’t need
to put yourself in danger for that. Soren—” His voice drops. “Rasmira was right all along. You were not to blame for my banishment. I was, and I knew it. It was so much easier to be angry with you rather than myself, but I’ve already forgiven you.” Iric reaches over and puts a hand on Soren’s shoulder. “You didn’t need to prove yourself to me or make up for anything that happened in the past. We’re good, brother. We’re good.”

  By the look on Soren’s face, I think he might be ready to cry. Instead he coughs. “Thank you.”

  “So don’t do anything that stupid again or else I’ll take off your head just as I did that beast’s!” Iric says.

  “Do me a favor and manage it in one swing, won’t you?”

  “I’d like to see you hack through that mass in one swing!”

  Soren grins, and the boys fall silent, too exhausted for words again.

  I bask in the feeling of utter exhaustion, yet utter triumph. I wonder what my father would think if he saw me now. If he saw how I pointed these boys in the right direction, encouraged them to complete their mattugrs, and even helped to take out the fearsome hyggja.

  And what would my fellow trainees think?

  I’m surprised by the sudden desire I have to see them. Those who don’t openly hate me still kept their distance from the girl who would lead them one day. They barely tolerated me.

  But I’ve learned so much, and this feeling I have right now, of accomplishment, of reveling in another’s success, I want to experience it again with the men back home. I want to be this kind of leader for them.

  I want to go home and make things right.

  After several minutes, my skin grows itchy from drying in the sun. I roll over and find Iric staring confusedly at the severed head.

  “You did it,” I say. “You can go home. Why do you look so troubled?”

  “It doesn’t feel any different,” Iric says.

  “You just did something amazing,” I say. “You made these weapons and came up with this plan. You dealt the killing blow. You earned this. You don’t feel accomplished?”

  “It’s not that,” he says. “I am proud of what I did and so grateful to you two for helping me achieve it. But I thought I would feel different. I lost my honor, my place in Rexasena’s Paradise the day I was banished. And the only way I could reclaim it was to kill the hyggja or die trying.

  “But it doesn’t make any sense. Nothing about me has changed. I’m the same person I was an hour ago. All I did was kill this thing. How does that act suddenly redeem me?”

  “But—I thought you didn’t believe in the goddess,” I say.

  “It’s easier to choose unbelief when the alternative is eternal damnation.”

  Soren offers, “You failed your warrior’s test. You had to prove yourself as a warrior. You have done that now. You’ve proven your skill and redeemed yourself.”

  “But that test was against ziken,” Iric says. “I’m still not very skilled at defeating them. I killed an underwater beast. The two aren’t even related. How is this the goddess’s will? The mattugr was given by men. How do they know her will? Shouldn’t I feel redeemed if this is what she wanted of me?” Then quietly, “Maybe she truly doesn’t exist.”

  Iric’s words are troubling. Is this how I will feel if I kill the god? Will I have done nothing?

  “I think you’ll feel differently,” Soren says, “once you walk back into Restin and see the faces of your mother and father.”

  “Perhaps,” Iric says. He rolls onto his feet. “But I’ll have to wait to find that out. First, I have some armor to make.”

  Iric holds out a hand to me. I take it, and he helps me to my feet.

  “Let’s go get cleaned up. We all stink.”

  * * *

  THE WASHING POOLS ARE our first destination. Once done, we return to the tree house and change into dry clothes, hanging up our now clean ones to dry. Iric bandages the bite above my elbow before walking off with the hyggja’s head in a leather sack slung over his shoulder. He mutters something about finding a way to keep it preserved until returning to the village. Leaving him to it, Soren and I get started on supper.

  I feel as though I haven’t eaten in days after all the toiling in the water.

  My stomach groans as I add more kindling to my growing fire. Meanwhile, Soren prepares the valder meat for the spit. He keeps pausing in his work and looking over at me, as though he has something he wants to say. In the end, he keeps looking away and focusing on his task.

  I think to call him out on it, but then I wonder if I don’t want to hear whatever it is.

  As Soren sets the spit over the fire, he finally speaks. “I can’t thank you enough for what you’ve done for Iric. You did for him what I could not. He wouldn’t let me teach him to swim. Wouldn’t hear anything I had to say about our quests. And honestly, we couldn’t have killed the hyggja with only two people. We needed a third.

  “Iric’s banishment has weighed on me for a year. It’s all I could think about. That guilt was never-ending, and now…” He looks at me, and though our eyes have met many times in all the while we’ve known each other, this time is different. My stomach tightens, heats, and I feel as though we’re saying things just by holding each other’s stare.

  “Thank you,” he says. “You didn’t just save Iric. You saved me. In more ways than one.” And before I know what’s happening, he leans down and leaves a kiss on my cheek. He pulls back and stares down at my mouth, then at my eyes.

  Torrin’s face flashes across my vision. How long ago was it when he kissed my cheek rather than my lips as I so desperately wanted? I’ve decided that I won’t let him win anymore, but that doesn’t mean I can suddenly control when he enters my thoughts.

  And though I’ve decided Soren can be my friend, I haven’t had a chance to think of him as being anything else.

  So I don’t encourage him. I look away and step back. “You’re welcome, Soren. I did what any friend would.”

  Perhaps saying that word was a bit much, but Soren gets the hint. “I’m going to check on Iric. See if he found something to do with that head for safekeeping.”

  He bolts down the trapdoor faster than a hare running from a fox.

  I let out a held breath as I think of Soren. Soren and his nice lips. Once, all I wanted was to know what it felt like to be kissed. And now the thought of kissing brings a bitter taste to my mouth.

  I hate that. I want to think of Soren that way. I want to wonder why he wants to kiss me. If it’s because he still thinks of me as his savior, or if he really sees me, beyond the warrior. I want to puzzle through our time together, want to figure out the moment when maybe things started to change for us.

  But I can’t.

  The more I try, the more his face mottles into Torrin’s. I see Torrin holding that ziken head with my blood smeared across its teeth. I see the smile he had at my expense when he succeeded in his plan. I see him by Havard’s side, the two of them relishing the moment as the venom takes hold of me and sends me sprawling on the ground.

  Silent tears fall from my eyes. I wipe them away hurriedly.

  Girls cry. Warriors don’t cry.

  Dammit, Father. I’m a person. I have feelings. I was so screwed over, and if I want to cry, I’m allowed to.

  Once I give myself permission, a weight seems to grow light and float away from me.

  I don’t care what my father thinks of me anymore. I loved him, and he abandoned me the moment I didn’t suit his purposes.

  No one commands me out in the wild. I will behave the way I want to. I will be who I am, and I won’t hate myself for it.

  I was taught to be respectful to my parents, because it was part of Rexasena’s teachings. It is one of the many things we must do to gain access into her Paradise. But will she forgive me if I don’t believe everything my parents have said or done to me?

  Instantly, warmth floods through me. I feel light as air, capable of doing anything, and most importantly, loved. Whether it’s my own imaginings
or the goddess herself strengthening me, I don’t care.

  “Thank you, goddess,” I whisper, grateful for the comfort, wherever it comes from.

  * * *

  OVER OUR WELL-DESERVED hot meal, I ask Iric, “What did you decide to do with the head?”

  He swallows the bite of meat he’d been chewing. “I buried it in enough salt for it to keep until I’m ready to head back to Restin.”

  “And when will that be?” I ask.

  “I haven’t forgotten our deal, Raz. Besides, I’m not heading home until Soren gets that damn feather.”

  Soren’s body stills, his cup of water suspended over his lips. After a moment, he lowers his hand to the table. “You would … wait for me?”

  “We’re all going home. That was the deal. And I think I know the best way to do it.”

  “Do share,” I say, my stomach now full of warm food. I feel ready to sleep a week, but we should discuss our next plan.

  “It’s safe to say that I would be useless climbing the mountain with Soren,” Iric starts. “My skill doesn’t lie in fighting, but in building.” He turns his next words to Soren. “You and Raz should climb the mountain together. Meanwhile, I’ll stay here and build that armor I promised Rasmira. It makes sense for us to do Rasmira’s task last when there’s so much we have to prepare for it. But you, Soren? You can battle a bird.”

  “We don’t even know if the otti exists,” Soren says.

  “All the more reason for you to take Raz up there to check it out.”

  “Rasmira has no obligation to climb the mountain with me,” Soren says. “You two had a bargain. Swimming lessons for armor. I can’t offer her anything in return for her help.”

  I’m about to silence Soren’s reasoning. I don’t need anything in return for helping him climb the mountain.

  But then I slam my mouth shut. I would never have even thought of offering my help a few weeks ago. I have my own task to tackle. Why would I risk my place in the goddess’s paradise if Soren’s not giving me anything in return?