There was another thunderlike sound…and a wind that rushed around us, under the tent, and then we were under open sky.
Judging by the commotion – and a few screams – we were not the only ones.
“Who did that?”
“I don’t know,” I admitted. I was not going to let him kill me. And the tent being gone meant we were surrounded by a ring of blades.
They could easily keep Mike and Thruor from interfering.
I was outnumbered, outgunned, and absolutely certain my opponent could not be killed. “Nice wards, by the way.”
He smiled. “And I left no loophole in mine for your father to exploit.”
“There’s always a loophole.”
“Also, your father is not here.”
“Don’t count on that.” Okay.
Loophole. Other than the sword Thruor had mentioned, that we did not have.
What would Surtur or his witches not have thought of? What would not have occurred to them?
Frigg had forgotten about mistletoe. Surtur would have remembered that. Something from Jotunheim? No, because they fought at the borders and passes all the time.
What would Surtur consider harmless? Or had he…no.
If he had, then I was dead, and I was not accepting that, not yet.
Mike had already died.
I had a horrible thought, then I pushed it out of my mind. She was safe. She was with my mother.
“Surrender, Siglaugr,” he said, sadly.
“Never.” If all else failed, I could force him to kill me, and that might break the cycle.
“So be it.”
He drew his blade. “This time I will not hold back.”
Then I was dead. I did not want to accept it. I hoped Mike and Thruor would run. I hoped this would work.
I lifted my blade to defend myself, but I hoped that something would happen.
Where was my father?