into him and began the fall.
She landed with a splash and was struck with the overwhelming sensation of icy water. Submerged and disoriented, she panicked, until she broke through to the surface.
The newcomer's thoughts were strange, but as she had used the stone so few times, she had little to compare them to. Stupid! I should have tried this thing out earlier. She drifted for a moment, feeling the tow of the powerful waves.
They are speaking. She squinted and tried to decipher the voices of the waves, but the whispers and murmurs were unintelligible. The few words she could make out meant nothing to her, as if in another language.
She could feel his muted emotions pulling at her from all sides, but there were no clear ideas to seize upon, and nothing that would reveal the stranger's intent. Amazing. My mind is locked doors and ordered boxes—and his? It was wild, free, without boundary and untamed. She had never felt anything like it.
Vaguely, she was aware of Alsvior. Not skilled enough yet to fully divide her consciousness, she maintained a slim line to him, an anchor that she trusted to pull her back out of the stone's influence in the event that something went wrong. She knew that if the stranger shifted so much as an inch, Alsvior would find a way to get through to her, even at the cost of his own life.
But there was nothing for her here. Still swimming, she clenched her hands into fists. It was time to leave.
She called on the stone, but her only reward was a feeling of lifeless, empty void. She felt deeper within herself, sinking further, but the threads that had once guided her down refused to lead her back up. As she dived into the freezing blackness, the murmurs grew louder, until she touched bottom.
I am a prisoner.
She floated through the dark water, stuck, for what felt like ages. At times, she lost consciousness, and the ocean claimed her body, enveloping it with hunger. Over and over, she awoke and paddled to the top, reaching for the thread to Alsvior and his quiet comfort, but he didn’t seem to notice her trouble. She slipped away again, a sleeping form that somehow did not drown, until she awoke in front of the iceberg.
Massive, it sparkled with an internal light.
Was this what she had come for?
She paused, suddenly unsure of herself, but she knew the water held no answers. She struck out with bold, resolute strokes, ripping through to the floating giant. When she came to it, she paused again, tentative. Finally, she reached out, her hand shaking.
Under her fingers, the ice was solid and reassuring—and warm. Desperate to shake the chill that had saturated her body, she clamped her hands on its surface and pulled.
As soon as she had cleared the water, the murmur of the thoughts grew louder. Encouraged, she hauled herself to her feet.
Multiple voices suddenly assaulted her in a blistering cacophony, but only one of them was clear enough to decipher.
You have to—
The ocean bucked wildly, and she fell. A swell of water splashed into her and the thoughts quieted, only to return as the wetness dripped off of her. She stumbled again to her feet and tried to listen, the iceberg shook with another wave, and then another, the voices disappearing with each splash.
Go , she heard. It was the stranger's voice.
She tried again to listen to his thoughts.
GO !
And suddenly, the iceberg, the ocean, all of it fell away as she tunneled up toward the surface.
* * *
"You're not a demon," said De la Roca, snapping out of her trance. It was one of the only pieces of information she had been able to gather from her journey, and she pounced on it fiercely.
"Not exactly." The newcomer grinned. "But close enough."
From the brief flash of his consciousness she experienced, she had teased out two names—Laufeyson, and the "wolf-man". She imagined that Laufeyson was the
She landed with a splash and was struck with the overwhelming sensation of icy water. Submerged and disoriented, she panicked, until she broke through to the surface.
The newcomer's thoughts were strange, but as she had used the stone so few times, she had little to compare them to. Stupid! I should have tried this thing out earlier. She drifted for a moment, feeling the tow of the powerful waves.
They are speaking. She squinted and tried to decipher the voices of the waves, but the whispers and murmurs were unintelligible. The few words she could make out meant nothing to her, as if in another language.
She could feel his muted emotions pulling at her from all sides, but there were no clear ideas to seize upon, and nothing that would reveal the stranger's intent. Amazing. My mind is locked doors and ordered boxes—and his? It was wild, free, without boundary and untamed. She had never felt anything like it.
Vaguely, she was aware of Alsvior. Not skilled enough yet to fully divide her consciousness, she maintained a slim line to him, an anchor that she trusted to pull her back out of the stone's influence in the event that something went wrong. She knew that if the stranger shifted so much as an inch, Alsvior would find a way to get through to her, even at the cost of his own life.
But there was nothing for her here. Still swimming, she clenched her hands into fists. It was time to leave.
She called on the stone, but her only reward was a feeling of lifeless, empty void. She felt deeper within herself, sinking further, but the threads that had once guided her down refused to lead her back up. As she dived into the freezing blackness, the murmurs grew louder, until she touched bottom.
I am a prisoner.
She floated through the dark water, stuck, for what felt like ages. At times, she lost consciousness, and the ocean claimed her body, enveloping it with hunger. Over and over, she awoke and paddled to the top, reaching for the thread to Alsvior and his quiet comfort, but he didn’t seem to notice her trouble. She slipped away again, a sleeping form that somehow did not drown, until she awoke in front of the iceberg.
Massive, it sparkled with an internal light.
Was this what she had come for?
She paused, suddenly unsure of herself, but she knew the water held no answers. She struck out with bold, resolute strokes, ripping through to the floating giant. When she came to it, she paused again, tentative. Finally, she reached out, her hand shaking.
Under her fingers, the ice was solid and reassuring—and warm. Desperate to shake the chill that had saturated her body, she clamped her hands on its surface and pulled.
As soon as she had cleared the water, the murmur of the thoughts grew louder. Encouraged, she hauled herself to her feet.
Multiple voices suddenly assaulted her in a blistering cacophony, but only one of them was clear enough to decipher.
You have to—
The ocean bucked wildly, and she fell. A swell of water splashed into her and the thoughts quieted, only to return as the wetness dripped off of her. She stumbled again to her feet and tried to listen, the iceberg shook with another wave, and then another, the voices disappearing with each splash.
Go , she heard. It was the stranger's voice.
She tried again to listen to his thoughts.
GO !
And suddenly, the iceberg, the ocean, all of it fell away as she tunneled up toward the surface.
* * *
"You're not a demon," said De la Roca, snapping out of her trance. It was one of the only pieces of information she had been able to gather from her journey, and she pounced on it fiercely.
"Not exactly." The newcomer grinned. "But close enough."
From the brief flash of his consciousness she experienced, she had teased out two names—Laufeyson, and the "wolf-man". She imagined that Laufeyson was the
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