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She stood, staring at shaking hands as the warriors around her descended upon the Snow Wyrm. She heard the sound of slashing as the combined forces of Ūtharan and Hagragng made certain the foul creature was dead. But, Únik could not move. Only stare at her own hands, even as Barsa circled her legs, looking up towards her, his tail wagging.

A hand rested upon her shoulder and Únik turned her head to see Ylthara looking at her with new respect. Everything had happened so fast. So many people had died in such a short time that Únik could not resolve her feelings about it all. Her eyes returned to her trembling hands and she tightened her fingers into fists.

"That was a shot guided by the Patrons!" Ylthara's hand squeezed Únik's shoulder. "I appreciate it. You could have run, we were almost safe. But ... you have my thanks."

Únik looked towards the corpse of the Snow Wyrm, a more fearsome creature she had never seen. The body had coiled across the path created by Ylthara's little whirlwinds, her spear protruding from its elongated, flat body. The other warriors had added several dozen more cuts and wounds to the creature, but she knew her spear had dealt the killing blow.

Bohyiris, the healer, sat upon the ground, staring up at the dead creature, still drawing in fast, frantic breaths. The warrior he had tried to help had toppled to the side, dead. With slow, jerking movements, as though hesitant to take his eyes from the beast, Bohyiris turned his head back towards Únik. She could see the fright in his remaining eye, his face contorted even more, straining the scars upon his face and neck.

"I don't think the shot was my doing." Her eyes flickered away from that of Bohyiris, uncomfortable with the attention. "Like you said. Magic, perhaps."

"Yours was the hand that launched it. You were the only one to stand and fight." Her hand slipping from Únik's shoulder, fingers trailing down the arm, Ylthara turned her head towards the scarred healer. "And don't believe for a minute that Bohyiris will ever forget what you did."

Without a word, Únik turned away, tapping her thigh for Barsa to follow. She had no need. The hound moved at her side as though attached by string, almost leaning against her as they walked. She continued back up the new path towards the thinner stretch of snow. She needed to get as far away from the Snow Wyrm and the eyes of Ylthara and Bohyiris.

Finding a clutch of rocks, she sat down upon one, spinning her bag around to her front. Taking out her water skin, shaking fingers removed the stopper and she took several great gulps. Taking Barsa's chin in her hand, she poured water into her hound's mouth, his tongue lapping out to catch the stream.

Replacing the stopper, she returned the water skin to her bag, shifting the bag around to her back, and bowed her head. It appeared that regardless of who she travelled with, danger and death followed in her wake. She wasn't foolish enough to believe it her fault, despite her Uriok superstitions screaming so, but it felt as though she had experienced more than her fair share of it now.

Barsa's dark eyes looked up at her as he panted. He cocked his head to the side, making a half-shuffle forward, one ear lolling against his head. She couldn't help but smile at the dog, even though she felt no happiness. Patting her knees, she allowed Barsa to pounce upwards, resting his paws upon her shoulders, slathering her face with his tongue.

A movement caught Barsa's attention. He dropped down, placing himself between Únik and the one who approached. He didn't growl, however. Únik did not look up until she saw the butt of her black-shafted spear pierce the snow beside her. After a second, swallowing a sigh, she looked up into the scarred features of Bohyiris.

Saying nothing, Bohyiris looked down towards her, scowling, before pushing the spear towards her. She didn't want to take it. The spear felt like a sign of everything that she now considered wrong about this whole journey. Yet, she reached out, taking it from the man's good hand. He nodded. She nodded. Bohyiris turned away, as silent as he had arrived.

Ice-Bound Promise [Wattys 2023 Shortlister]Where stories live. Discover now