Page 44
The tension and adrenaline had assuaged the sharp stabbing pain, but it was a constant dull throbbing that wouldn’t go away that easily, and all the distractions couldn’t hide her discomfort. Kolfinna kept imagining herself unraveling at the seams, her blood and flesh slipping off her frame. It was a gruesome imagery, but the culmination of wounds made her feel that way.
Kolfinna shrugged but winced when her shoulder stung. “It’s all right,” she settled with. Blár was still behind her and could probably hear every word. “And you? How are your wounds?”
“Oh, I’m doing all right.” Eyfura placed a hand on her cheek. “Anytime I feel down, I just think of Captain Asulf’s face, and all my negative feelings disappear!”
Kolfinna raised an eyebrow. “I thought you wouldn’t pine after a married man?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me!” Eyfura sighed. “If I can get cheered up by thinking of his handsome, regal face, then I will! Come on, tell me you didn’t once think he was incredibly gorgeous? The red hair, the silver eyes, that pretty physique—ugh, I swoon every time!”
“I’m not interested.”
“So you say.” Eyfura giggled, leaning closer as if sharing a secret. “But, you know,allthe single Royal Guard ladies have a little crush on him. Sadly, I’m not the president of the unofficial fan club, but I wasthisclose”—she pinched her fingers together—“to becoming vice president.”
Kolfinna couldn’t help the wry smile forming on her face. She couldn’t imagine all the uptight Royal Guard women swooning over the captain in such a way, or having a fan club. Before she joined this mission, she was under the impression that all Royal Guards had a stick up their asses. “I had no idea there was such a thing.”
“Oh, there is! After this mission, we could totally go to one of the meetings together!”
“Um, no, thanks.”
“What, he’s not your type?” Eyfura elbowed her in the abdomen softly. “You into the tall, dark, and handsome kind?”
The only tall, dark, and handsome guy who came to mind was Blár Vilulf. But he just happened to be rude, sinister, and villainous. “Hell no,” Kolfinna said sharply, all too aware that Blár was behind them.
Eyfura’s laughter tinkered over the group, but despite her bubbliness, Kolfinna noticed the tension stretching the skin around her eyes. And then it hit Kolfinna what Eyfura was doing: lightening the mood. Before talking to Kolfinna, she had been huddled between soldiers, chatting airily and giggling about something.
“Can you two get serious for once?” Truda snapped from behind and rolled her eyes. “My ears will bleed listening to your stupid ramblings.”
Eyfura’s gaze darted between Kolfinna, Truda, and Blár. She winked at Truda. “Oh, Truda,” she said in a singsong voice. “Don’t get jealous because we’ve got a hunk for a captain. I’m sorry your commanding officer is an old guy in his forties.”
“I literally do not care,” Truda huffed.
Eyfura’s voice dropped to a whisper, “Don’t think I don’t notice you staring at Blár. He’s your type, isn’t he?”
Truda’s cheeks instantly fired up. “I donotlike him. I used to before he opened his mouth and I realized how much of an asshole he is.”
Kolfinna stifled a laugh; at least there was one thing they could agree on.
Eyfura didn’t have time to reply because their party came to a screeching halt. They were at the fork, where the staircase split into two directions. Both staircases ended with the same thing: darkness. Even if she squinted, she couldn’t imagine what was beyond them. There was only one way to find out.
Mímir paused for a moment, contemplating, and then motioned to the right. They all followed behind him, but just as they started climbing up the stairway, Kolfinna sensed a surge of magic behind her. She spun around to find two demonic dog-like creatures dashing down the opposite staircase, froth flicking from their open mouths. Razor claws tore the carpet beneath their feet as they ran. Now she understood what had contributed to the torn carpet on the stairs. Black, leathered skin covered their entire body, but what was the most terrifying was their wrinkled, squished faces with protruding teeth.
Shards of ice slammed into the dog-monsters’ faces and pinned them to the floor. The ice spears stuck out of the corpses. Blue blood and pieces of flesh splattered the staircase and the walls. Kolfinna flinched at the impact, her breath caught in her throat. Blár was unfazed, his expression schooled to boredom as he brushed off flecks of ice from his fingers.
Eyfura whistled before whispering, “He’s annoying, I’ll admit. But damn.”
Blár, who had been inspecting his work, glanced over at her sharply and scowled.
“You think he heard me?” she whispered again.
“Come on, everyone. Let’s keep moving!” Mímir called. “Blár, I’ll leave the rearguard to you.”
Blár frowned, looking none too pleased with that, but he didn’t say anything.
They continued up the stairs into a spacious, empty hallway. Tall arched double doors stood at the end of it. The off-white floor tiles were cracked and smeared with dirt and dried, brown blood. There was a dent on one side of the wall. A fight had ensued at some point, but who knew how long ago that fight was? Hundreds of years? Or maybe within the past two years?
“U-Um, I-I can’t go back—” Torsten pointed to the staircase they had come from. His hand trembled and he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat.
Mímir tilted his head. “Excuse me?”
Kolfinna shrugged but winced when her shoulder stung. “It’s all right,” she settled with. Blár was still behind her and could probably hear every word. “And you? How are your wounds?”
“Oh, I’m doing all right.” Eyfura placed a hand on her cheek. “Anytime I feel down, I just think of Captain Asulf’s face, and all my negative feelings disappear!”
Kolfinna raised an eyebrow. “I thought you wouldn’t pine after a married man?”
“Ugh, don’t remind me!” Eyfura sighed. “If I can get cheered up by thinking of his handsome, regal face, then I will! Come on, tell me you didn’t once think he was incredibly gorgeous? The red hair, the silver eyes, that pretty physique—ugh, I swoon every time!”
“I’m not interested.”
“So you say.” Eyfura giggled, leaning closer as if sharing a secret. “But, you know,allthe single Royal Guard ladies have a little crush on him. Sadly, I’m not the president of the unofficial fan club, but I wasthisclose”—she pinched her fingers together—“to becoming vice president.”
Kolfinna couldn’t help the wry smile forming on her face. She couldn’t imagine all the uptight Royal Guard women swooning over the captain in such a way, or having a fan club. Before she joined this mission, she was under the impression that all Royal Guards had a stick up their asses. “I had no idea there was such a thing.”
“Oh, there is! After this mission, we could totally go to one of the meetings together!”
“Um, no, thanks.”
“What, he’s not your type?” Eyfura elbowed her in the abdomen softly. “You into the tall, dark, and handsome kind?”
The only tall, dark, and handsome guy who came to mind was Blár Vilulf. But he just happened to be rude, sinister, and villainous. “Hell no,” Kolfinna said sharply, all too aware that Blár was behind them.
Eyfura’s laughter tinkered over the group, but despite her bubbliness, Kolfinna noticed the tension stretching the skin around her eyes. And then it hit Kolfinna what Eyfura was doing: lightening the mood. Before talking to Kolfinna, she had been huddled between soldiers, chatting airily and giggling about something.
“Can you two get serious for once?” Truda snapped from behind and rolled her eyes. “My ears will bleed listening to your stupid ramblings.”
Eyfura’s gaze darted between Kolfinna, Truda, and Blár. She winked at Truda. “Oh, Truda,” she said in a singsong voice. “Don’t get jealous because we’ve got a hunk for a captain. I’m sorry your commanding officer is an old guy in his forties.”
“I literally do not care,” Truda huffed.
Eyfura’s voice dropped to a whisper, “Don’t think I don’t notice you staring at Blár. He’s your type, isn’t he?”
Truda’s cheeks instantly fired up. “I donotlike him. I used to before he opened his mouth and I realized how much of an asshole he is.”
Kolfinna stifled a laugh; at least there was one thing they could agree on.
Eyfura didn’t have time to reply because their party came to a screeching halt. They were at the fork, where the staircase split into two directions. Both staircases ended with the same thing: darkness. Even if she squinted, she couldn’t imagine what was beyond them. There was only one way to find out.
Mímir paused for a moment, contemplating, and then motioned to the right. They all followed behind him, but just as they started climbing up the stairway, Kolfinna sensed a surge of magic behind her. She spun around to find two demonic dog-like creatures dashing down the opposite staircase, froth flicking from their open mouths. Razor claws tore the carpet beneath their feet as they ran. Now she understood what had contributed to the torn carpet on the stairs. Black, leathered skin covered their entire body, but what was the most terrifying was their wrinkled, squished faces with protruding teeth.
Shards of ice slammed into the dog-monsters’ faces and pinned them to the floor. The ice spears stuck out of the corpses. Blue blood and pieces of flesh splattered the staircase and the walls. Kolfinna flinched at the impact, her breath caught in her throat. Blár was unfazed, his expression schooled to boredom as he brushed off flecks of ice from his fingers.
Eyfura whistled before whispering, “He’s annoying, I’ll admit. But damn.”
Blár, who had been inspecting his work, glanced over at her sharply and scowled.
“You think he heard me?” she whispered again.
“Come on, everyone. Let’s keep moving!” Mímir called. “Blár, I’ll leave the rearguard to you.”
Blár frowned, looking none too pleased with that, but he didn’t say anything.
They continued up the stairs into a spacious, empty hallway. Tall arched double doors stood at the end of it. The off-white floor tiles were cracked and smeared with dirt and dried, brown blood. There was a dent on one side of the wall. A fight had ensued at some point, but who knew how long ago that fight was? Hundreds of years? Or maybe within the past two years?
“U-Um, I-I can’t go back—” Torsten pointed to the staircase they had come from. His hand trembled and he swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down his throat.
Mímir tilted his head. “Excuse me?”
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