Frostborn

by Lou Anders

  “How should I know? I was with you, not him.” Karn looked up, but there was no sign of Orm in the sky. “Maybe he hopped the wall and he’s waiting for us to exit so he can pounce on us.”

  “He could be just above us,” said Thianna. “In the seats, I mean.”

  There was no way they could see the tiers above them unless they walked out of the shelter of the archway and turned around, and then, if Orm really was above them, it would be too late. Orm could gobble them up before they even had time to yell, let alone race back inside.

  “We can’t risk going out,” he said. “Not when we don’t know where he is. We’ll have to find a way down inside.”

  They picked their way on through the corridor, passing more boxes and side chambers. The dragon’s continued silence was unnerving. Karn wondered if Orm had grown tired of them and wandered off. He knew that that was too much to hope for, but then how to explain the creature’s disappearance?

  Finally, they came to a staircase leading down. If Karn had mapped their location correctly in his mind, then the level below them should be ground level. There would be exits to the street outside as well as a few passages to the hypogeum below. Either avenue would get them out of the coliseum and lead them to places where they could hide from the colossal linnorm.

  They were halfway down the stairs before they saw it. The sunlight was fading, and the lower levels naturally got more shadow than the upper tiers. But the ground beyond the steps wasn’t ground. It was scales. Karn’s heart sank.

  Orm had squeezed his long, snakelike bulk into the corridor. Filling it with his body.

  They ran back up, not bothering with silence. The dragon was so large; it seemed impossible that he could fit inside the coliseum. Unfortunately, he was long, not broad.

  A quarter of the way around the amphitheater they came to another stairway. And the linnorm’s body lay at the foot of it too.

  “He’s coiled around the entire level,” said Karn. “He’s circled the whole stupid arena. We can’t go down anywhere. He has us trapped.”

  A chuckling sound came up from the level below. From everywhere below. As of course it would. The dragon was laughing down its entire long, coiled length.

  “I did give you two lambs ample opportunity to get away,” Orm said. “I waited and waited before I sprang my trap. It was more than a reasonable chance, I’m sure you will agree.”

  “Is that how you deal with all the heroes who come here looking for you, Orm?” Karn called out. He was frustrated at the unfairness of it all. “With dirty tricks?”

  “Come now,” said the dragon. “Outflanking can hardly be called a dirty trick.”

  “But you do what it takes, don’t you?”

  “Naturally.”

  “Just like those Gordion legions you ate?”

  “A history buff, are you, boy?”

  “Something like that.”

  Something was working in the back of Karn’s mind. “Outflanking” had made him think of military tactics and the Gordion legions Orm had attacked when he first came to Sardeth. The Gordion legions brought to mind the wall map, which showed the empire and the place where Thianna’s people hailed from. And Thianna’s people made him think of the horn. Yoked to the wyverns. Reptiles. They weren’t linnorms, but they were at least distant cousins. Could the magic of the horn be used to annoy linnorms as well as wyverns? Or to control them?

  “Keep him talking,” he said to Thianna. “I need time to think.”

  “Keep him talking?” said Thianna. “Everything I’ve ever heard about dragons says you do not want them talking to you.”

  “You think them eating you is better? Keep him talking.”

  “What if he charms me or mesmerizes me or something?”

  “Please. I really doubt he could.” If Karn knew anything about Thianna, it was that nothing so impressed her as herself.

  “Um, hello, Mr. Dragon,” Thianna called out uncertainly.

  “The mouse wants to talk?” laughed Orm. “You realize you’ve lost and want to give yourself up?”

  “What do you want with us anyway?” she called.

  “What do I want with you?” He sounded incredulous. “You treasure seekers come here, invading my home and my slumber, looking to steal from my hoard. That you end up as my sport instead is fair play.”

  “We didn’t come here on purpose,” Thianna said. Naturally, the dragon replied that he didn’t believe her.

  Meanwhile, Karn thought about the horn. A blast from it had driven the wyverns crazy. Even though it made no sound that humans—or giants—could hear, it was obviously earsplittingly painful to the reptiles. But was that its only use? The wall map had shown the wyverns yoked to the horn, as if they were being driven and controlled by it. So why hadn’t it worked like that when Thianna blew it?

  “You stupid, fat worm!” the frost giantess was shouting. “If you weren’t so big, I’d roast you on a spit and feed you to my …”

  Of course. Thianna blew the horn like she did everything else. Loud, brash, with all the force of her personality. Whatever sound was coming out the other end was sure to be painful. What if she tried a lighter, softer touch?

  “Thianna,” he called. She was still yelling at the dragon. “Thianna!” he shouted louder until she shut up. “Use your horn, but this time don’t blow so hard on it. Try and … try and play music.”

  “Try and what?”

  “Play music.”

  “I don’t know how to play any music.”

  “Well, at least blow softer.”

  “Softer?”

  “Trust me on this. I think I know how it works.”

  Thianna looked at him askance. But she pulled the horn from her satchel. “Whatever you say, Norrønboy.”

  Thianna placed the horn to her lips. She drew in a huge breath. Karn raised a warning finger. She took the horn away from her mouth and exhaled half the breath, giving him an annoyed look as she did so. Then she placed the horn to her lips again.

  “Softly,” Karn admonished her.

  She scowled but nodded. And blew a gentler breath.

  As before, the horn made no sound that Karn or Thianna could hear. But the linnorm was strangely silent.

  “Again,” said Karn.

  Thianna blew another quiet note, then another.

  And then she heard it. A voice so faint that it sounded like one of her own thoughts, except that it was no thought that she would ever have.

  What is this? the voice said. What presence is this in my mind?

  “Who are you?” Thianna whispered back.

  “Who is who?” Karn said, thinking that she spoke to him.

  “Shhh,” she replied.

  Mouse? asked the voice. Is that you? How did you get in here? Thianna was suddenly aware of a wave of irritation, so powerful it made her sway on her feet. You have no right to be here!

  “Here?” asked Thianna. “You mean, in your mind?”

  “Who are you talking to?” asked Karn. “Are you talking to it?”

  Get out! Orm roared in her head. How dare such a tiny, ephemeral little thing as you invade the greatness of my mind? You live and you die in the batting of my eyes. You cast a wavering shadow on the snow for a day. I cast my shadow over empires across eons.

  The force of Orm’s scorn hit Thianna like the trunk of an oak swung by a giant. She was knocked off her feet, crashed into the wall of the corridor. Karn ran to her. She waved him away even as he helped her to her feet.

  Thianna gritted her teeth. She was tired of big things pushing her around. What was so special about dragons and trolls and even giants? Bullies. Braggarts. She’d taken Thrudgey down with her brains. She’d taken the trolls down the same way. And in here, in her mind, size didn’t matter. She drew in a deep breath.

  “Not so big,” Karn warned, but she shook her head to silence him. She wanted the dragon’s attention.

  She blew as hard as she ever had.

  Orm roared. The coliseum shook. The gro
und quaked, tossing Thianna and Karn off their feet. Dust and loose stones fell from the ceiling.

  “Stop that!” bellowed the dragon, no longer talking in her mind but shrieking his words loud and clear. His voice echoed throughout the coliseum.

  Thianna blew again, as hard and strong as the first.

  More stones crashed to the ground as Orm thrashed his body violently in the tight corridors.

  “He’ll bring this whole thing down on our heads!” Karn shouted.

  “No, he won’t!” Thianna shouted, loud enough for the dragon to hear. “He’s lived here over a thousand years, haven’t you, big guy? It’s the only place in these ruins large enough for him. The only place within a thousand miles, I bet. He’s not going to ruin his home over a little earache caused by a mouse.”

  “I wouldn’t bet on it,” growled the dragon.

  “Well, I would,” said Thianna. “Especially since there’s a much better alternative.”

  She blew the horn again, but softly.

  What is it? What gives you access to the innermost chambers of my mind?

  “Something that my mother stole, long ago, from far away. Her people have come here, looking for it now. I don’t understand much of it, but I don’t think she liked what they used it for. I think she was trying to keep it away from them. I think that’s why she left home. They chased her. Now they are chasing me. I told you we didn’t come to Sardeth on purpose. We are trying to keep the horn away from them. Believe me, whatever they want it for, it can’t be good for your kind.”

  Thianna felt the dragon’s immense mind sifting through hers, running over her thoughts. But softly.

  I believe you, Mouse. But I can’t let a treasure seeker leave here unmolested. After all, I have my reputation to think of.

  “I told you, we aren’t treasure seekers.”

  No? And what of that sword at your side? Don’t tell me you had that when you came.

  Thianna glanced down at the Gordion spatha. She had taken it, but she hadn’t known it belonged to the dragon. And hadn’t he stolen it first? She didn’t think either argument would get her very far with him. But she had another idea.

  “Call it a loaner,” she said. Next to her, Karn listened intently, trying to piece together what was happening from just one side of a conversation.

  A what?

  “A loaner. I’m not stealing it. You are loaning it to me. I’ll bring it back one day.”

  You’ll return it? And when will you do this?

  “You count the days in eons. I’m half-giant. We measure it in centuries. Plenty of time to keep my promise.”

  And the horn, will you destroy it?

  Thianna hesitated. That was harder to promise The horn was her only connection to her mother.

  “I can’t.”

  It is a hateful thing.

  “When I’m done with it. When I know what it has to teach me about my mother.”

  Again she felt the dragon’s thoughts slide across her own.

  I could swallow it now, and you with it. I could bring the stones of this place down on you.

  “I could blow it again.”

  She felt the dragon’s anger wash over her like a wave. But it was a wave that broke and dissipated. Then she felt something else. Amusement.

  “You offer me something new,” Orm spoke aloud. “In fifteen hundred years, I have never loaned anyone anything. I have taken, and I have eaten. Once or twice, I have even given advice to jarls and wizards who came seeking it. But to loan something—I admit, I am curious to see if you will keep your promise. The novelty is worth a single sword.” Orm paused, and Thianna felt a twitch of irritation from the linnorm. “I believe the proper response is ‘Thank you.’ ”

  “Thank you,” she said, and meant it. They found a gap in the walls and saw the dragon sliding from the corridor and into the arena, but he didn’t stay in the open. He slithered into the shadows of the hypogeum and disappeared from sight.

  “Go now,” he said aloud. “Go now before I change my mind. And never blow that hateful thing in my presence again, or I swear by my sacred fire that I will swallow it and its bearer whole.”

  They didn’t have to be told twice. As night fell, Karn and Thianna raced from the coliseum, into the streets of the Blasted City, and away from the might of Orm.

  The Return

  Miles away at Dragon’s Dance, Karn’s uncle slid gratefully out of the wyvern’s saddle. Ori was glad to have solid ground under his feet again after a harrowing ride spent clinging to the back of one of Sydia’s soldiers. Though he would not show it to the foreigners, he had been afraid to be so high in the air. And these scaly creatures made him nervous. He had never been very fond of animals—a drawback, admittedly, for one born to work a farm—and the wyvern seemed strangely intelligent for a dumb beast. It didn’t bother to hide its dislike of him.

  “My leader waits at the top of the hill,” the soldier said. But she didn’t move to accompany him. Ori walked up the slope to the crest alone. At night, when the camp was empty of all the boisterous Norrønir, it was an eerie place. The crossed poles with their stone dragon heads cast odd shadows. Like he was in a graveyard. Not that he had anything to fear from barrows.

  A light burned in one of the wattle-and-daub cabins at the summit. “Leave it to these foreigners not to know how to pitch a proper tent,” he scoffed.

  He raised his fist to knock.

  A wyvern thrust its head from around the corner of the cabin. It hissed at him. Ori jumped. But he recovered in time to sneer back at the thing.

  The cabin door opened before he could knock again.

  Sydia stepped out. Neth’s sweet sake, did the woman sleep in her armor?

  “You wanted to talk,” he said, hating how his words gave her the upper hand. “It’s not easy sneaking away from a longhouse unnoticed in the middle of the night.”

  “You were well paid for your information,” Sydia replied scornfully “What’s a little inconvenience now that you are hauld of your brother’s farm?”

  “Yes, well, thanks for that,” said Ori, wondering how he could turn this summons to his advantage. “But money only goes so far. Not all the freemen were happy about the change in leadership. I had to let a few of them go and replace them with slaves. More compliant, you understand They don’t have to be paid, true, but they still have to be fed.”

  Sydia narrowed her eyes.

  “Don’t think you can worm more gold out of me, northerner. It is because of your kind’s interference that I am still in this gods-forsaken ice hole you call a land.”

  “Interference?” said Ori, his hackles rising at the foreigner’s tone.

  “Your nephew, the one called Karn.”

  “What of him?” snapped Ori. But inwardly he felt a sinking feeling. Karn should be long gone. Disposed of by Helltoppr’s minions or the harsh elements. He might play a mean game of Thrones and Bones, but his nephew was hardly the rugged survivalist type.

  “He and Thianna are traveling together. Aiding each other.”

  “They are what?” shouted Ori.

  “Somehow the two young fools are managing to elude my soldiers.”

  “How do you know they haven’t just left Norrøngard altogether?” Or been killed by draug, he thought.

  Sydia glowered.

  “They’ve been spotted. Almost captured a time or two.”

  Now it was Ori’s turn to scowl. So those incompetent After Walkers hadn’t done their job. Maybe there was something of his brother’s fire in Karn after all. Either way, this wouldn’t do.

  “And so you’ve come to me to …” He let the question hang open in the air.

  “I’m trying a new tactic,” Sydia replied. She gestured to the three large standing stones at the hill’s summit.

  The stones were in shadow but … were there forms huddled at their bases? Large forms? Ori raised an eyebrow.

  “Insurance,” Sydia went on. “Something to pluck the girl’s heartstrings. Karn also must have
someone on the farm he would hate to see hurt.”

  Ori didn’t like where this was going. His sister-in-law was still grieving over the news of Korlundr’s and Karn’s deaths. It had been easy to blame the attack on trolls. And she was a strong Norrønur woman, brought up in the harsh realities of a cold and unforgiving land. She would come around to accepting the new order. As for Karn’s sister Nyra, parting with her wouldn’t be so bad.

  “It would be hard to sell another story about a third disappearance so soon after the last two. Trolls can only eat so much. Whereas slaves, slaves eat every day.…”

  Sydia spat into the ground.

  “Is gold the only thing you care about?”

  “Gold and what it buys me.” Ori smiled his most charming smile.

  “Help me with your bothersome nephew,” Sydia replied, “and we’ll talk about more gold.”

  Now the upper hand was his, and Ori knew how he could strengthen his grip. He glanced at the hissing wyvern beside the cabin. Maybe it was his turn to startle the foreigners.

  “Deal,” he said. “But before we plot any further, take a walk with me.”

  Without waiting for a response, he started down the hill, heading in the direction of the barrows.

  “Where are you going?” the woman called after him.

  “It isn’t far,” Ori replied. “There’s someone I think you should meet.”

  The lands south of Sardeth were hilly, but nothing like the Ymirian range. The going had been easy the last few days. Physically easy, at least. Now that the excitement of the dragon was behind them, Karn kept thinking of the Thrones and Bones game with Thianna. When the Black Draug piece was captured, all his minions were “released.” Could that really mean that if Helltoppr were somehow defeated, his father could be restored? But how could Karn defeat Helltoppr? Even with a sword like Whitestorm, he was useless at blade work.

  Every step south took him farther and farther from his father. Karn stopped short.

  “I have to go back,” he said.

  “What? Are you crazy? We just got away from Orm!”

  Thianna was looking at him aghast.

  “Not to Sardeth,” he explained. “To Norrøngard. To the barrow. I have to rescue my father.”